ABOUT AS HAPPY AS YOU MAKE UP YOUR MIND TO BE*
Black black skies with white white stars. Orion is tilted drunkenly to the left, leaning over our driveway. The big dipper lies lopsided across the other side of the sky, a big ol’ bowl of stars above my head. Our 5-day dog’s back end wags to and fro, tail in counterpoint. Her surprisingly small feet make swishy prints in the sparkley snow powder. I huff above the edge of the scarf wrapped over my head and around my neck: dragonbreath blooms and my glasses fog. I’m making messes of one-dish wonders for lunch lately; I’m sick of salads. Rice or...