...when the rest had moved to the garage, Winnifred moved with surprising urgency to get to the driver's seat.  Blessed with the kind of body that makes her look like she has to lean up to see over the steering wheel, she wordlessly took that position unless someone really wanted to get physical with a lady that had a hammer in her lap as she drove.

Her reasoning was simple and explained to the others regardless if they asked why: she whipped out her wallet and slid out her [i]Oregon[/i]-issued driver's license, with the inset photo showing a younger Ms. Pylypyshyn who had just a little more spark in her eyes.  Not too much, though.

"...in my experience, anywhere ever," she clicked her seatbelt in as anyone interested gawked at her wallet and its contents, "police are less kind to out-of-state drivers.  Try to sound less European if they talk to you."