Once upon a time, a grumpy middle-aged woman (me, actually) was driving home. Everything that happened that day only added to the grumpiness.

On the side of the road, near the turnoff for her street, was a perfect scoopful of black asphalt. Just sitting there. For months. With nobody doing anything to use or remove it. It was there so long that it had hardened into a mini mountain. Litter. Left probably because someone was too cheap to throw it away properly.

This black mound with no purpose infuriated her. So much so that she mentioned it to neighbors when she could, to see if it bothered them, too. They laughed and admitted they noticed it, but they all had minds too full of their own worries to be bothered by it. Perhaps it was just her that was irked every time she drove by.

Since she was a grown woman with a considerable amount of emotional maturity, she already knew that it needn’t matter why it triggered her feelings of anger but, rather, that she could and ought to control the way she reacted to it.

On a particularly grumpy drive home, she saw the lump of lameness and had an idea. She decided to beautify it. Make it into something that would make her smile every time she drove by.

Two pair of gigantic plastic googly

eyes later, she giggled to herself over her clever idea. On July 3, she glued eyes on each side of the mound so it could stare out from both sides. Three of the eyes popped off within a couple of days (was it the wind?). But then, other passersby decided to get in on the fun. And just as she’d planned, other people made it better and better.

Just look at the pile today: a painted Zia and peace symbol, lips, hair, legs and shoes! She wants to thank everyone who has participated and enjoyed this bit of flair along Old Las Vegas Highway that was once a litter bug’s easy out. Thank you all for the smiles!

Victoria Brown has lived in Santa Fe for 11 years and owns a micro-business of art vending machines in the Santa Fe/Albuquerque area. This is written in response to Priscilla Dakin’s letter (“Dirty humor,” Letters to the Editor, Sept. 23).