Oh, Boy.

The more details I hear, the more amazing it is that both my son and his housemate walked away from it.

When he first told me I thought I knew where it happened on the exit ramp - at the curve coming from the OTHER direction, where a fairly tight turn takes you over the interstate. That would be logical, right? Nope, it happened right as he entered the OTHER ramp, on the flat straight side, and it happened right after leaving the highway, at the point where they were still slowing from highway speed. The wild ass guess armchair accident reconstructionist analysis is that a tire blew - two tires are flat on the driver's side, but we don't know when that happened, if it was the cause of the crash or happened during the crash. It was instantaneous, they were suddenly upside down. There was no "Oh shit!" moment when he realized they were about to crash, they just flipped over.

The Prelude is smashed - bent frame, caved-in roof, broken windshield, broken windows. His friend said he was amazed at how fast my son was out of the vehicle and around to the other side, checking on him - he was still buckled in his seatbelt, hanging upside down. The passenger side door was jammed, so he had to unbuckle and crawl across, out the driver's side window. His friend had barely a scratch, my son was pretty banged up - he's telling mom little by little, I think, so I don't freak out, but it's nothing serious, all things considered. He has some cuts on his face and a good patch of road rash on his arm - which amazes both of us. It was a warm night and they had the windows down and the sunroof open, and my son drives with his left arm resting on the door when the window's down - right where it's all torn up from hitting the pavement. How did he not break, or even LOSE, his arm when the car rolled over on that side? Thank GOD for fast 24 year old reflexes, somehow he managed to pull himself in and duck and roll.

He said that when he saw the car many hours after the accident at the towing lot he began to catalogue all the ways they should have been killed or maimed - and yet, his housemate has only the most minor bumps and scratches, and my son's injuries are superficial, though he says his shirt was soaked in blood from the cut on his face. I think he's also feeling like he used up 8 of his 9 lives on this - he's Indiana Jones, he's had his share of adventures like busting a foot in the Mexican jungle on an archaeological outing, but this was a real near death thing.

I'll be breaking out the Nice 'n Easy to touch up my hair later - never mind gray hair, after 2003 my hair started coming in not just gray, but snow white in places. White hair does not run in my family, especially in one's 40s, we go gray gently and subtly. So I saw the news story about stress causing premature ageing and just hooted, "DUUUUH!" My eyesight changed dramatically for the worse, my hair color changed, I'm glad my skin has remained relatively unwrinkled and everything else seems to be intact, but my hair honestly did go gray practically overnight while my husband was dying, and I think my son's adventure probably sprouted dozens of new white hairs. Maybe I should just give in and do the Emmylou Harris thing. Naaah. It's just not me.

Yes, this is a knitting blog. Yes, I did knit - I think this week I've done maybe 5 rows on the top-down cardigan and a total of 8 rows on the sock. Life has not been about knitting lately, and that's okay.