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Frosty Windshield

This morning I climbed into the car and started him up. His name is Frodo, a name which came with him when we bought him five years ago. But the windshield was frosty and it was hard to see through it. I yanked on the emergency brake, and reached in the back for the scraper. I tried to rub off the film of white, and was partially successful. Benjamin asked what I was doing, since he hasn't seen much ice in the last nine months.

"Trying to clear the windshield so I can see," I grunted.
I tossed the scraper in the back seat and put the car in reverse. By the time I had rounded the first corner I tried squirting the window washer, since the air was only barely freezing. Bad idea. Now it was as opaque as the frosted glass in a shower door. I pulled over to the side of the road and scraped again. 
I drove slowly, and noticed that when I focused on the ice it was nearly impossible to see the road. If I focused on the road, the streaks of ice were less obscuring. It is an interesting phenomenon, this ability of our eyes to zero in on one spot. Even cameras and IPhones can do it now, but eyeballs invented it.
Since my son went to college for videography I have begun paying attention to the way movies will use focus to swivel my attention from a person to the action behind them. Fuzzy and sharp take turns.
The other day a friend was complaining to me about her husband. He does not put his keys where she wants him to. She seemed to be bidding for confirmation from me that this was indeed annoying but I kept my cards close to my chest. I was, frankly, more annoyed at her. 
Now it is not as if I am innocent. I have wasted precious mental energy on the same triviality. I gathered evidence to prove that John refuses to close cupboards as if there were a stenographer following in my steps to build a court case.
"Your Honor, the defendant, John Llewellyn Odhner left forty three out of fifty nine cupboards open after removing a dish over the last twenty four days. I submit this to the bench as exhibit A that Mr. Odhner is incompetent at finishing tasks."
But I am learning. The trouble with focusing on my husband's mistakes, is that it hijacks my attention from his goodness.