Road Rage

The rotten stinking website, tortured into submission by me, and which looked all peachy, doesn't look so peachy, it turns out, in wretched internet explorer. Ok, on the one hand, I don't know anyone who uses ie except at work, but still, piece of garbage.

Deep breath.

The weather was true perfection today, like the impossible meringue. Light and crisp. Outside the trees are, in every sense, hopping with birds, Juncos, Warblers, Brown Creepers, Downy Woodpeckers and Flickers and of course the ubiquitous chickadee.

Yesterday I indulged in a spot of road rage and ...it felt good.
You know my opinion of the standard of driving in Richmond, there is none, it is mostly machine operation.
I know you all think the driving in Britain is rubbish, but I challenge anyone to come here and drive, then go back home and you will think the driving there as choreographed, balletic.

I was turning left on a green light, so the equivalent of turning right in Britain. I was perfectly positioned to turn - a concept unknown in Richmond, road positioning? What's that?
Sadly, here, the pedestrian lights are green at the same time, but I waited while the HUMAN BEINGS crossed the road. Clearly this wasn't good enough. A testosterone-poisoned prat in an oversized truck, pulls up beside me and starts shouting at me, although since both our windows were up, I couldn't hear the abuse, just see the rage and venom. But I gave back. I simply vented all my spleen noiselessly on him. Even had he had his window open he wouldn't have heard since he had his bluetooth headset on. But I don't think he expected a woman to mouth off back at him and he stopped and drove off.
Pedestrians one, stupid prat, nil.

Felt good, felt damned good. But I bet he wouldn't have shouted at a man.