I went out to take pictures of rain and figured out, all by myself, that the background has be darker than the color of water. (Loved that book The Color of Water by the way. Title comes from mixed-race children asking Mom what color God is.) I got pictures of water dripping off the house.

I'm working on three socks and the little sweater. Someone really mentally sick was telling me how she hates her job, loves to shop with her dd because her dd is so smart she makes male salespersons look dumb, she hates some of her co-workers because they're bossy, prissy, attractive (guys are always hanging around her instead of working), etc. I was knitting knitting knitting a sock when this other woman came in and teased me about making a pair for her. Conversation went like this:

Nice Woman: Will you be able to finish my socks by Christmas?

Mean Woman: She'll charge you.

NW: That's ok. I'll pay.

MW: Do you want a pair like those? (ones I was working on.)

NW: That would be good. Anything she'd make, I'd want.

MW: They don't appeal to me.

It's really hard to let this kind of this roll off. Grrr.