the Mammal Chronicles: January 2010

when it comes right down to it, ya lactate or ya don't.

Friday, January 15, 2010

The Egg Woman...

I love divination. Love it. I wrote a book on it. Over the course of my life, I've had friends do tarot readings for me, read them for myself, and yes, paid for the occasional tarot reader or psychic. The most accurate readings are generally my own, and usually I ignore what I see and do whatever the hell I want. I can't say I've ever been to a reader who gave me a reading about the future that, in retrospect, seemed particularly accurate. I do believe it's possible that some people have a gift for picking up on our unconscious emanations (which may be why I can sometimes successfully read -- and ignore -- my own). I just don't think I've ever met one. Nonetheless, I continue to hope.

So when my administrative coordinator mentioned that her mom did eerily accurate egg divination each New Year's Day, I was immediately intrigued. I'd never heard of reading an egg, for one (though every time I mentioned it to a friend, they immediately said something like "Oh sure, egg reading." I was baffled until I realized I was talking only to Latinas; must be a cultural thing. Still, I grew up in a heavily Latino area and live in a predominantly Latino area. On top of that I'm a folklorist for goshsakes. How did I miss this?). I was yet more intrigued when she began chronicling all her mother's predictions. They were so accurate that she now refused to let her mother read for her. She just didn't want to know.

But I did! "See if your mother has to do it on New Year's Day," I asked her, because clearly I'd missed that boat. So she called, and her mother not only could do it on another day, but would. Then she conveyed her mother's instructions: "At midnight the night before, fill a clear glass -- it shouldn't have any patterns on it -- with water, then crack an egg in it. Leave it there overnight and don't touch it." While my staffer didn't want to be there -- she wasn't sure she wanted to know that much about her boss' life -- she volunteered to drive her mother over to my house the next day because someone needed to translate for her.

And so it was that I had an egg, an employee, and her little Spanish-speaking mother sitting in my kitchen one Saturday evening. She had with her a deck of Mexican playing cards, which interestingly still had the same suits as Tarot cards: Cups, Wands, Swords and Coins. She held up the glass with the egg in it and said (in Spanish), "It looks bad." But, in the end, despite my staff member's furrowed brow, it turned out not to be so bad. Here, for posterity, were her insights and predictions:

  • Our home had low energy
  • I had low energy and I needed to fix that to be strong enough for the year ahead
  • We had money troubles but they would soon be over
  • I would, in fact, receive really good news 3 times this year
  • I would also have legal problems
  • And someone would die this year
  • But the divorce would not be contentious
  • I would travel and the results of that travel would be very good

Really, there were more details than that and it wasn't as vague or lame as it sounds. I asked how I could improve my energy. Her daughter said she didn't know how to do that, but she seemed to understand what I said and told her daughter she did too know how. She then proceeded to tell me to give her a small jar and the petals of the rose on the table. She'd do something to them, then return them to me so I could take a bath in it for two successive friday nights. After that was completed, I was to take nine lemons, cut a cross into them, soak them in water in a small bucket and leave it in the closet overnight. I should then put it all in a bag, take it to a crossroads and throw it over my shoulder without looking back.

The day after the reading, before we'd even signed with our realtor, another realtor slipped a note through our mail slot to let us know her client wanted to buy our house and only our house, citing a price that was $25,000 above our planned asking price and $50,000 over what we paid for it.

And, while we've had some tense, awful moments, when my husband and I went to the divorce and custody mediator for the first time a week later, she told us that compared to most couples we were incredibly calm and cooperative.

So far so good. I think I'll take that bath now.

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Sunday, January 10, 2010

A Quote

From Still Life With Woodpecker, by Tom Robbins

Albert Camus wrote that the only serious question is whether to kill yourself or not.

Tom Robbins wrote that the only serious question is whether time has a beginning and an end.

Camus clearly got up on the wrong side of the bed, and Robbins must have forgotten to set the alarm.

There is only one serious question. And that is:

Who knows how to make love stay?

Answer me that and I will tell you whether or not to kill yourself.

Answer me that and I will ease your mind about the beginning and the end of time.

Answer me that and I will reveal to your the purpose of the moon.



And that borrowed statement is all I have to share for today. Oh, someday I may write about the Egg Man (Or rather, more accurately, the Egg Woman. But not the Walrus. Sorry Walrus). I may not. Certainly I will write at length, at some point, about the complete absence of Trader Joe's in all of Colorado. But for now, ladies and gentlemen, that is all.

Goo-Goo G'joob.

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Tuesday, January 05, 2010

A conversation in the car with my 4 year old daughter...

Her: (observing my new watch) Mama, I thought you didn't like shiny watches
Me: I like them shiny, silver and simple.
Her: What's simple?
Me: It means "not fancy" -- it doesn't have a lot of decorations.
Her: I like watches that are pink and purple and brown.
Me: Like your shoes; they are pink and blue and brown.
Her: I don't like blue.
Me: Why not?
Her: Blue is a boy color.
Me: What about Green?
Her: Green is a boy color.
Me: What about Orange.
Her: Orange is a boy color.
Me: What about Black?
Her: White is a girl color, Black is a boy color.
Me: Why are they boy colors?
Her: Hmm.. Let me think... (tapping her cheek with her finger) Well (Way-yull), boy colors are awesome and girl colors are fablious.

Can't argue with that.

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