Fortuneless Fortune Cookie

Buck and I had a super busy day, and decided to run up to the Nine Mile and Pine Forest intersection to the new Teriyaki Cafe for a take-out supper. I fixed a pot of Gun Powder green tea to go with.

My expectations weren't very high, but the hot and sour soup was great.

Only one "uh oh." There was no fortune in my fortune cookie.  Dum de dum dum, dum! Not to worry. I ain't scared. I've pretty much always believed in paddling my own damn canoe, anyway, and a few silly words printed on a slip of paper mechanically inserted into a fold of baked sugar and flour loosely called a cookie isn't likely to have any effect on a doubting, analytical old head like mine.

Now, if I read a fortune cookie with this message, "Pray to God, but row toward shore,"  I would be impressed.

What do I believe in?

Love, baby. I believe in love.

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I found this bit of love and sweetness while I was shuffling through old stacks of pre-digital era photos, wanting to wave a magic wand so they would all be scanned onto the computer hard drive instantaneously. It's me, at age 42, holding my step-grandaughter, Andie, now a statuesque, gifted young writer, a senior in high school. I wouldn't give anything for these photos and the life stories cradled therein.

 

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