Wednesday, April 04, 2007

Writing is not always the same as saying something


Above: left to right - Tiger's Eye, Pietersite, and Dichroic Glass WINNINGS.

I am a winner. A winner! I love how they call me that at eBay as I drain my bank account of grocery money. I will eat the word for breakfast and lunch until payday while I pray that the various mail systems from the USA to China to Canada do not screw my winnerdom up by losing my treasures.

I write the maker of the dichroic glass cab on the right. I tell her that I am slightly embarrassed to have paid as little as I did for such a fabulous piece. And it was nice to hear back that she loved the piece and had a hard time putting it up for auction. I will send her a photo of the finished work for her soon-to-be website and credit her when I finish my soon-to-be-masterpiece using the cabochon. Sometimes I love the craft biz. Love how generous and supportive artisans can be with each other.

I'm having a Dixie Chick day, other than that. A little sour, a wrong note pinging the eardrums, a who-cares (I do, actually) kind of dispirited day. As an Aquarius, I am supposed to love humanity and I do. It has often been pointed out, however, that Aquarians do not so much love the individual components that make up humanity. I have those days. And don't forget, I am one of the components.

Ruler of Aquarius, Uranus (the old god Ouranos) mated with Gaia & then, picky, high & mighty sky god that he was, he imprisoned his children. He was a swell guy. Finally, one of his kids, the Titan Chronos (Saturn) chopped his dad's manly parts off and cast them into the sea - where they begot the Furies and Aphrodite.

And so I am a cranky person with occasional charm because of having this astrological mythology as my heritage. That's my story and I'm sticking to it for now.

Tomorrow, I am about to meet an old friend of Marko's for a drink - and dump some of this fabulous wealth of astrological knowledge into his head. At his request, can you imagine...

Meanwhile, I will try to defeat the Dixie Chick impulse to not make nice and gloat over my winnings.

What? You thought this was about something?