Here it is on Amtrak, going from the Baltimore Airport to Union Station in DC.
And here it is in back of the White House. I shook my fist at the current occupant, but not in view of the police officer on the horse, who is behind the sock.
Here's the sock by the Cascade outside the National Gallery, where mom, our friend Jean and I saw the Hopper and Turner exhibits. I was far more impressed with Hopper that I was with Turner. I had no idea Hopper painted so many architectural pieces. I had associated him only with the city scapes that are his best known pieces.
Here's the sock on the deck at Jean's house, overlooking the Potomac River. This is where I sat to knit most days. It's the most peaceful place you could imagine. At one point, I felt like I was being watched, and I turned around to see two deer studying me.