Last Sunday, 4 am….the phone rings. Never a good thing. It was the Davis Police Department. Our little Subaru had been parked outside our mechanic’s, and had been rear ended,and totaled, by a hit and run driver. Well, the driver part isn’t clear, but there is an investigation, so we’ll leave it at that.
I didn’t love the car, and the truth is, we don’t really need three cars. I have a car replacement plan in place that includes a sunroof, so no worries. But still. Kind of a violent end for an unassuming little car that did its job around town. Steve went to meet the police and had the presence of mind to retrieve the peace sign from the back window for me. Right now it’s on my kitchen window sill, waiting for a proper home. I kind of love the metaphor of a torn up peace sign.
On our way to the beach, we stopped to take pictures and collect what was left. A CD, a few buttons of Kate’s, an amber bracelet I bought on the street in Mexico, and of course, the Parking Spot Goddess. Hopefully, her magic, along with ongoing shopping line karma (you know, letting the person behind you with only one item, go ahead of you), will work in the next car.
Weekend is here….wine with a friend this afternoon, Indian food with our neighbors tonight, Alex’s yearbook pix tomorrow, a neighborhood party Sunday. Peace out (no pun intended…well, maybe just a smudge of a pun intended).