Good Fortune

I love a good fortune -- you know, something about the future and not one of those wise sayings like you are full of integrity and joy, a pleasure to behold. I got the above one in my fortune cookie last night, so I'm waiting here for any day. I sure hope the thirteen separate notices of action that I got yesterday from Medi-Cal, denying all the components of Sophie's wheelchair (and each notice of action was accompanied by a State Hearing Request Form in a separate envelope and each envelope had a $.44 stamp on it, which means there were 26 sheets of paper, thirteen envelopes and $5.72 of postage) won't become my "good news," when we finally get that wheelchair (and we will get it in this lifetime, I imagine). I'd prefer a book deal, a windfall or instant fitness.

It actually rained here a bit this morning as I was driving home in the wee hours from Henry's school. The drops were plops, really -- the fall more pathetic than robust, but, hell, it's a start! Good fortune for the earth in southern California.

Good fortune to you today, too!

My Good Fortune

That's the view from my little tree-top apartment in Victoria, British Columbia and where I arrived last night and was escorted by the wonderful poet Heather McHugh. It would seem that my good fortune knows no bounds, as they say. The weather here is cloudy and I woke last night to the pitter patter of rain, but I slept naked (can I say that, here?) and woke to Canadian birdsong and green treetops. I've made myself coffee and two slices of toast. I've unpacked my suitcase and piled my books on the table beside the bed where I think I'll climb soon. Maybe later I will go for a walk, either to the right and see the town or to the left and see the ocean. Good fortune can come and go, has come and gone and come again.