We went to the farmers market.

We went to the art show, which was filled with wonderful stuff at reasonable prices. There was one particular artist, Judd Mann, from whom I’d like to buy Christmas presents for everyone I know. I gathered up everyone’s cards, so that I can approach them later about their websites if my Big Client leaves room in my calendar.

We talked with old friends and had fun. 8



8 Later, we went to the mall in the Next County. I drove there, and didn’t die.

#2 son came with us, too.

This mall is designed to look like a town. It is in the middle of nowhere, but they are building around it so fast that at some point in the future, it will actually be part of a town.

We wandered around and did some shopping and compared the place unfavorably with our own town, which is better than any of the neighboring towns, but suffers from a bad case of smug as a result.

#2 son suggested that we make a sign welcoming people to our town with the words, “It’s hard to be humble when you’re perfect.”

8 There was something going on called UR Vote Counts.

I liked their sign.

At various times in the journey, I used the phrase, “I should get points for that.”

For driving on the freeway. For continuing to drive in spite of the great desire I felt to stop the car and abandon it on the freeway. For going into stores. Lots of stores. For trying on blouses. For actually buying a blouse.

“These points of yours,” said #2 son. “What do they go toward?”

I had to laugh.

He continued. “I have a sneaking suspicion that you don’t even keep track of them.”

I’ts true.

8 In the food court of this mall, they have these translucent balls. There are lights inside that change colors.

They look like frogs’ eggs, don’t they? Or some organ, maybe.

Rather late in the afternoon I learned that I am supposed to sing something with #2 daughter this morning. It’s by Ed Harris. It’s very beautiful. It has all these accidentals and things. I’d never seen it before, nor heard it.

There is some suspense about whether or not I’ll be able to learn it in time.

She’s trying not to be cross with me about being so lame at reading music, and I’m trying not to be cross about her expecting me to be able to read music, when she knows that I can’t. I’ll let you know how that goes.