Is That Sleet or Snow?

It can't seem to make up its mind out there. I'm underwhelmed with either one. So far I haven't won the lottery or made a magic wand so I'm off to work again today. I had a few customers yesterday so I didn't die of boredom and I finished updating one supplier's prices in the computer. Today I get to re-sticker a crapload of inventory. Good thing I don't dress up all fancy for work because I'll be crawling around repricing things. I think I'll wear my Copper Harbor hoodie and copper earrings, and pretend I just got back from the UP. Somedays pretending is all I have to keep me sane. My friend Cookie talked to a woman in an occult store in Milwaukee earlier this month and the woman suggested that she get out a notebook and Tarot card deck and choose a card when she awakes each morning. She's supposed to write down what card it is in the notebook and get on with her day, then at the end of the day she's supposed to look up the meaning of the card and write down how her day merged or didn't with the chosen card. Cookie said that lately the card's been spot on. I reminded her that she's got a deck of Archetype cards from my writing friend, Roi, that she could do the same with. (I am totally in love with the art on the cards. They are absolutely gorgeous and so very inspirational. That Roi's a genius.) I might just play along come next Sunday when the whole new unspoiled year begins. That'd be a good way to start, don't you think? (Oh, hell, it's time to get ready for work. I have to stop lolling in bed until nearly 8 o'clock.)

December 28--China, Square Tray with Two Boys. A and B loved to play in the garden when it was nice outside. A was the musical one. He had a small drum with a mallet. He'd march down the lawn or dance through the shadows depending on his mood. B always rode his hobby horse. He fought imaginary battles or rode out to explore foreign lands. They were happy little boys.

Camilla hated that damned Ming tray. Her mother-in-law had cursed her with it as a first Christmas gift and there was no way she could get ride of it. God knows she'd tried. Mac, her spineless worm of a husband refused to even suggest to his harpy of a mother that the fragile thing might just be an albatross to them. The tray never fitted their casual decor or lifestyle. It was too fragile to have a hot teapot or a cold glass on it. The thing was supposed to be over five hundred years old. What good was it if you can't use it, Camilla wondered. She had been sure that Mac had a backbone when they were dating but he'd lost it once the "I do's" were said.

As you can see I switched horses in midstream. Eh.
--Barbara