Grandma Rocks

You're going to have to imagine that there are pictures here for the next few days...maybe weeks. Our digital camera went "belly up" in a bathroom in Wales this December. We have been snapping it back together several times a day since then, until we finally pushed it to its limit.
It now belongs to the kids who think they might be able to coax a few more pictures out of it. In the meantime we have quite a list of supplies to gather that take precedence over a new camera. It is coming....so let's be patient. This exercise will do us all some good.

So here is a story to "view" in your mind:
Friday evening we had just finished with our meetings for the day in San Diego. Since we were alone (the kids had flown to Oregon earlier in the week) we took a drive through Downtown and Shelter Island.
Out of nowhere something hit the hood and windshield of the car we had borrowed, I got out to see what we had hit..or...what had hit us, and was attacked by a drunk. I knocked them away and only engaged them when they tried to climb through the open window of our car...Ann was still inside.
Reacting like I was trained....within a few moments the "attacker" was on the ground screaming, and I was still standing. No, I didn't cause any undue (i.e. "undeserved" )pain...it was just a "reflex".
Three SDPD units arrived and we discovered that our hostile friend had just left a local gin joint and had been throwing rocks at passing cars. Ours was a direct hit. The rock had left a several inch scratch all the way to the metal in our hood. We were free to go and She....(yes, "SHE" a 50'ish older woman went for a ride to detox). We declined to press charges.
This story would have made for better telling if I had embellished the gender and size of the Nut, and I realize that those of you who live sheltered lives are astonished that your sensitive and caring author would ever resort to physical force.
First of all...we are all products of our environment and respond as we have been trained, reflexes happen, actions have conseqences, and bad people go down.
Second, those of us who have had experience with big, vicious, and angry gangsters in dark alleys realize that those same dark alleys look pretty good compared to angry, drunk old ladies.

I don't make this stuff up....I just write it as I live it.

Got the picture?