I am a bright star in the creative firmament.

I had a lovely, lovely talk with Anna tonight. She is such a sparkly bit of crunchy goodness. She told me that I am a bright star in the creative firmament. This might possibly be the nicest thing anybody ever said about me, and I am going to tell myself this over and over until it sticks.

I AM A BRIGHT STAR IN THE CREATIVE FIRMAMENT!

I want to paint it on my ceiling in cursive handwriting so that when I wake up in the godforsaken-bad breath-alarm clock morning, that pleasant thought will be the first thing I see.

I
Am
A
Bright
Star
In
The
Creative
Firmament.

It's just delicious, isn't it? You can be a bright star in the creative firmament, too. There's lots of room on the creative firmament.

What else? What else?

I called and complained about my Hagen Daz last week because it had been melted and refrozen and was not enjoyable. They sent me a replacement coupon, and this evening, after a comforting dinner of vegetable soup, bisquits and baby carrots, the girls and I kissed Peach goodbye, and went for a walk into the dark, coupon in hand, toward Hagen Daz.

It was about a mile to the drugstore, and we crossed busy streets, playing the magic streetlight game, chanting,"ONE! TWO! THREE! TURN GREEN!" which, everyone knows, forces the light to change. The evening was pleasant and warm. A fancy restaurant is being deconstructed on the corner, revealing a huge USED CAR SHOWROOM sign under several onion skin layers of siding. We peered into the dark windows and investigated the building permit, but found no clues as to what the renovations will unveil. A dentist? A petting zoo? A monastary? We just don't know.

A walk is a very good time to talk with one's children. I heard about who is a snotty friend and who is a nice one. Who's parents volunteer at the school and who's middle name actually is Peekaboo, after the skier. I learned that Peach is a very nice step-dad but he has a particular way of sighing that makes anyone, even a child, want to strangle him. We all agreed on this point, but also mutually decided that this flaw, for now, would be forgiven.

We walked by daycares, pizzarias, bathroom fixture emporiums and a huge empty space where a hardware store once was. We passed a man hanging christmas lights. Or maybe Thanksgiving lights. Not sure. We decided that neighborhoods are vastly improved by trees, and a good neighborhood became a bad neighborhood after the trees were removed.

We got our Hagan Daz for nothing, and hurried up hill to get home to our spoons. We argued the question of whether every walk could end in icecream. We decided we would walk even without it. I felt grateful for my family.

My day was generally bad, but my walk was good.