Fortune Hunting

Tarot, quarter fortune teller, new adventures, and bad scares

Last week, my strategy for keeping my head up, pointing as much skyward as possible, was to have a diversion every day, which my friends were absolutely clutch for. Ride or dies Kami and Sam sent me to a day spa. Sam Fore fed me preview snacks for her amazing new Tuk Tuk Snack Shop. I went with my friend Alison (who writes at

La Vie en Prose

) for an incredible sushi dinner and to see our other friend Sam in his first stage production, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow (fabulous). To quote Angela Chase, we had a time, and afterward had to get out the Mini’s manual and figure out the lights.

Saturday was a packing day for C, so I endeavored to be out on the town. I went by the Vintage Fair, but didn’t find much. And then I volunteered to take

The Mischief Maker

* (*I have three subscriptions to give away to her substack, so read to the end) to finish setting up a display for a small one of her iconic cakes in Bloomfield, our goddess friend Lissa — who you might remember from the healing hike — joining. The Mini makes me want to drive anywhere, everywhere. Road trip!

As I walked home while they were getting ready, I passed this sign outside one of our two excellent local witchy emporiums, Creatures of Whim.

And thought…why not? There are a lot of questions at a time like this, and I’m open to any and all guidance.

I had to wait for the reader to become available, so I browsed and bought a few things, thought of what question I should have in my mind.

The reader came in with a bouncy kindness and warmth. We chatted for a moment, and it turned out she has a relative with the last name Bond in the county next to where I’m from. We’re probably distantly related. I told her about my Granny Bond, who always scrutinized the bottom of the tea cup for hidden meanings, believed in ghosts and witchcraft wholeheartedly, and told the best stories about both. Now, I’m not new here to planet earth. So I told her I’d recently discovered I’d be getting a surprise divorce, but was making peace with it. I didn’t want a B A D reading, though I didn’t say that. I figured it was a given. She took it in stride and gave me the deck to cut several times, and then encouraged me to choose cards that spoke to me. Then rearranged them based on my tapping the backs to select the ones we kept.

She turned over the first spread and the bounciness disappeared.

Like I said, I’m not new here. When the tarot reader is disconcerted, that is not a great feeling. And, sure enough, I’d chosen a spread of very serious cards. A reversed Tower (“anything not built on a solid foundation will eventually crumble”), a Wheel of Fortune, one with knives stabbing everywhere, you get the gist.

We talked through these, about needing to protect myself, and to be on guard against chaotic energy. She thought perhaps some of the things had already happened or would be over soon. She had me pull five more advice cards, also at random. These did not ease the vibe. Again, the lean of concern happened. Lots of caution — look at routines, hold onto resolve, protection, throw out anything that doesn’t feel right (ha). She emphasized that no card in and of itself is negative, which, again, only added to the dire vibes.

Let’s pull some cards for the future, she said. I think we were both nervous by this point. I selected them carefully at random from the deck.

FINALLY, the sun, several cards with brighter meanings. One that she said usually indicates a strengthening of intuition (perhaps I am becoming a MUTANT AT LAST). A creativity card, that I would make something out of all this. I had not mentioned I was.a writer. Then I got to pull two Oracle cards and these were much more settling. Confirming that it will be all about routines and priorities and defining what’s important to me.

An aside—I do feel I’ve lost a bit of myself in the past few years. Not pointing any fingers, but I do know who I am, and that perhaps became a bit lost under a sense of obligation instead of responsibility, duty rather than joy. I’m not meaning in terms of any one thing, but in most things. And I can feel those things shifting. The tectonic plates of my soul, building some new continents to explore. (Sixth grade science me is so proud of that sentence.)

Armed with the story of my tarot reading, I went to pick up Alex and Lissa and we set out to one of the world’s most perfect small towns, Bloomfield, carefully curated by novelist Linda Bruckheimer (also married to bang bang explosions! Jerry Bruckheimer). This is where I remind you that I have three PAID subscriptions to give away to

The Mischief Maker

and the first three paid subscribers here who comment will win them.

What Alex does is like no one else, and she’s also using her substack to teach us all how to make cocktails and desserts, in addition to her sculpting process.

Stunning, right? The tea room was like something out of Barbie world. Since I’m in my icon behavior only era, I suggested we take a photo. Alex volunteered to do it. Lissa said she was going to channel Keith Richards. Welcome to our album cover.

We shopped for a bit and meandered over to a perfect pub with a bowling alley and a fortune telling machine. We ordered tater tots and Manhattans, which: also iconic. And I revealed I’d never had ketchup before (it’s another story). They asked if I wanted to so: go watch my ketchup journey after you read this. Look at me out here trying new things.

But, then, THEN, it was time for more fortunes. I wanted to try out this machine.

We got change for a dollar from the ice cream counter, and I attempted to feed it a quarter, which went into one of those little slots that you then press in. It wouldn’t take it from me. Lissa came over and slammed in the quarter with aplomb and force and… No fortune. We decided to try again. Lissa did it again and, this time, it worked. Alex came back and was standing in front of the animatronic madame and so we decided this card was her fortune.

It fit perfectly.

Next, Lissa stood in front of Madame while she moved her head to and fro and released another fortune. This one resonated with Lissa. Finally, it was my turn…

(Photo taken the next day.)

The thing is, I’m supposed to be in Budapest right now. I have been offered by so many generous people guest rooms and getaways, and I’m saying to all of them, I’m staying put right now, but next year, maybe. Next year. The rest, who can say. But there were four quarters and only three fortunes. And each of us felt them as true in some way in our bones. Magic, for only a quarter and one extra. I keep wondering who the fourth fortune is for, and if they’ll slide their fingers in and find it. If they already have.

Bloomfield magic. The rest of the night held a speakeasy and a long backyard conversation. The following day, yoga brunch. Surrounded by community.

This was supposed to be some meditation on fortunes and looking for them, and maybe it’s the getting on with living while you ask the universe to keep telling you what you’re supposed to do. Actually, maybe it’s still about that.

I’m writing this, instead of on the porch, in the hospital next to my mom. Let me tell you about a phone call you never want to get — it’s that your mother is in the emergency department because she was found unconscious in her car, not far from your home, and she doesn’t remember anything about how she got where she is. Only the eye appointment beforehand. Last night, was a scary night. Tests to rule out strokes and seizures (thankfully they did).

This morning, we have some answers. A very bad UTI, bacteremia, sepsis, all of which can cause what happened. She’s quite ill, but she will get better. We’re still hopeful for spine surgery in the coming months, after which she will eventually feel better than she has in a long time. This year has tested me in all the ways. But I’m still here. Perhaps the cards were just alerting me that a bad night was ahead. I’m sure there will be several more of those.

But I’m equally sure there will be more fortune hunting. More adventures. More laughter. More ketchup. And I’m grateful for everyone who is continuing to reach out, check in, assist with diversions. To my editors, for rearranging my schedule so I can breathe into this moment and recover and then get back to work.

Big changes. New foundations. Or unearthing the foundation that was here all along, and rebuilding on top of it. My two constant refrains right now are a light-hearted “this is my new soulmate” (so far, the Mini, the grilled cheese at Tuk Tuk, Omakase) and “it’s a metaphor” (the vulture eating roadkill, random toilets set out for the trash, basically anything dust-covered or overgrown).

And, last but not least, happy first birthday yesterday to Woofie, the man of the house. He’s a cuddler.

Don’t forget to comment with either your best fortune teller story OR if you want to claim a FREE month paid subscription to The Mischief Maker (you do! you really do!). More soon. Thanks so much to everyone.

Gwenda