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YESTERDAY I GOT A CALL from a decorating store in the city: We have your name and number written down here. You were interested in carpet samples, and we have some we're discarding.

Hmm. It took me a minute to recall, but yes, I'd been in the store a few months ago and admired the stack of carpet samples. When I asked what becomes of them when the store gets new designs, the salesperson had said, "Oh, we just throw them away. You want them?" Well, I didn't know exactly what I'd do with them, but I found them irresistibly appealing (which means, of course, that I answered in the affirmative), and thus got this phone call.

So I told the woman I'd pick up the samples today. And I thought, "Ah, ha, I will also visit the jewelry store that is just up the block."

Now the reason for the stop-off at the jewelry store is another story altogether (oh, don't worry, Dear Reader, it's a short one): With all this recent talk of diamonds, the elderly aunt of my yard man (who happens to live next door) had something to show me one day. "This is a pin that my father bought," she said, "when he was a young man and traveled out west." She held the piece of jewelry up to the light so that the stone in the middle sparkled. "I've always wondered if this could be a diamond," she said.

I had the pin with me today on my trip to the city. The expansive and very old farmer's market is open every Tuesday, so the city was bustling with shoppers and tourists. I was making a big circle of the downtown area, looking for a parking place. Stopped at a traffic light, watching the heat waves shimmer off the pavement, whom should I suddenly see--crossing the street right before my very eyes--but the Little Actor!

Now, like any other huge fan of a celebrity, I went a little nuts--blowing the horn, waving my arms. I frantically searched for a spot to pull my car off the street, and rushed to see him up close! As luck would have it--wow--not only did he pause to greet me, but he and his mother were free for lunch! How could I turn down this opportunity to dine with the Little Star--those groupies of other celebs would be shrieking and crying over fantastic fortune of this sort!

And since I got to dine with the Little Star, I can give you this exclusive footage:

Life Gives the Little Star a Lemon!




And He Makes Lemonade!

Then, just as he's getting tired of lemonade, and becoming a fussy patron, entertainment arrives!





By the time I bid farewell to the Little Actor, the afternoon is waning and the temperature still rising. I trot over to the jewelry store, where it's mighty nice and cool inside. It takes some time for the woman with the truth-seeking equipment to make a determination as to the dreams-come-true quality of the stone in the pin, during which I daydream about the sit-down-Ann-I've-got-some-awesome-news-for-you! nature of the message I'm going to deliver. But, wouldn't you know--the news that I get is nothing but a fat slice of lemon.

Ah, well. I can't make lemonade, but I know that a slice of lemon can be a thing of beauty, too. There would even be instances, I know, where its value would outweigh a diamond... (Surely you can think of some, Dear Reader. If not, I sincerely hope you are never marooned on a desert island with scurvy setting in. Or mixing up Aunt Ruby's Pink Lemonade with Vodka at the county fair competition, working to win the grand prize, and one lemon short. Or...[never mind, you get the juice, I mean, the gist.])

And now I've stopped by the decorating shop and I'm off for home; I'm a regular carpetbagger. It's temping to look at my samples, and show them to you, but it'll have to wait. (Hope that news is not too much of a lemon for you, Reader Dear!)


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