I ate the last fortune cookie last night and that was my fortune, verbatim. It's an excellent fortune, but I keep expecting to read "ugh" like some Hollywood Indian wrote it or Tarzan's reading it. Why are we so amused by bad English? Semi-bad English drives me nuts but horrible translations in instructions or things like this fortune amuse me no end. I got all the dirty dishes washed and dishwashered long before bedtime, and I even carried up a laundry basket so I can easily get all the special dishes back downstairs. I think I've got an empty bin down there that will hold all of it so next year I don't have to search here and there for the pieces and parts of Chinese New Year. We enjoyed patting ourselves on the back last night that it all came off well. Everyone seemed to have a good time. This morning I'm taking my car in to get its brain fixed so it stops tooting at random times and maybe the key fobs will work on the lock. I thought it might be foolish to spend that much money on a 2004 car but it runs well and doesn't have that many miles, barely over 100k. Although I did spot a red Honda HHR on the used car lot over on the corner. The sign said $9999, I mentioned it to Durwood and he wondered how much I can get for my car, but we need new gutters with leaf covers and there's a big crack in the foundation so those are two things we're better off fixing in the long run. Dang it. Maybe when we get that stuff fixed there'll still be a bit of $ left for that red car. *sigh* Such is life. And it's snowing. Not a lot, just enough to be annoying, but still, snowing on Monday? Really?
January 29--Peru, Figure Bottle. When I got back into my hotel room, after I took a cooling shower and put on fresh clothes, I took my little bottle out of the box. I sat looking into his wide black eyes ringed with red tears and I felt his sadness. I felt the fear that drew him into a ball and the sorrow that coursed through him. The Europeans had come and his people were dying. The diseases that they brought and the weapons that they carried were killing too many of his people. The ravens had flown away and taken the life-giving rain. The figure bore the sorrow of the Nazca like one of those chosen to the task by the gods. Pictures of the hardships brought by a combination of drought and the invasion of the Europeans into the mountains of Peru raced like a movie through my head as I sat with the figure. It was as if I had a psychic connection to the long-dead, man/boy whose image I held in my hand.
And on that creepy note I'm going to go read the paper, finish my coffee, eat cheerios with lots of fruit and go drop off my car. Durwood will take me to work and strand me there until 6 PM when he'll come and rescue me. My hero!