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Could this be my lucky day?
A spider crawled across my back.
My good luck coins, they jingle in my pocket.
A bee has flown into my house. Prepare for the visitor. I feel volatile. I cannot kill the bee. At last it flies out on it’s own accord.
I saw that she had laid her hat upon the bed…
Thirsty, I leaned against the screen door of the back porch, trying to fit into the little spot of shade. Work, a little work, there was still a little work to be had, and I leveled the weeds on the northern bank of the Bartleson house, fifteen minutes it took me, maybe twenty, but it was plenty hot in the unprotected sun.
Will Work For Water.
And I get so lucky July twelve, Misses Bartleson, she gives me a case, and dried fruit as well.
The old man’s passed on and she’s ready to move on out herself, just hadn’t had the energy to make the effort.
There's an old saying that you teach what you need to learn. Good fortune comes to those who ask for it by name. | 
