Luck be a lady

I'm pretty sure I've mentioned somewhere on here before that I think the 5th of the month is generally my lucky day. If anything, it's something to look forward to every month, and maybe if something outright serendipitous doesn't happen on (or around, I accept that fate is not a science) that day, it's a good time to reflect on why, in the grand scheme of things, I think I'm a lucky girl.

I woke up this Monday morning, and as I am apt to do lately I checked myself for itchy spots. I never used to feel strongly about any particular day of the week, but I now hate Mondays because Mondays are meetings days. So every Sunday before I go to bed I pray that I will wake up with Chicken Pox. Since I had Chicken Pox when I was a kid, it would be nothing short of a miracle to get them again. On a Monday, no less. No such luck today. Maybe next week.

On the fortunate side though, one of my meetings was cancelled and another one cut short.

Vince checked in on me this afternoon to see how my luck was going. I didn't have much to report, which was disappointing because I am sure he thinks this whole idea is just crazy talk, but he's nice enough to humour me.

I tried to make the early bus home today, but again, no such luck.

When I did get home, I checked my mailbox (the one outside my door, not the one online) and laughed. I got a take-out menu for Lucky Kai Chinese Food. There was also something for the previous owner from National Geographic, and what I presumed to be my property tax bill.

I opened the bill. First I thought I owed some exorbitant amount, but then I read more and learned that my taxes are actually going down this year by $10/month. Yay! Lucky me!

I barbecued tuna steaks for my dinner and tomorrow's lunch. I had frozen tuna (because that's what we eat here at The Little House on The Prairie, dear friends on the west coast). I had never cooked tuna before so I looked for some advice on the Internet. One site (and honestly the only site I really consulted) told me to sear both sides for a minute on a really hot grill. So that's what I did. The inside was pretty much uncooked, which I know is how it comes out on the plate at a restaurant, but I wasn't so sure that was a good thing for a previously frozen piece of seafood that had just spent the last hour thawing on my counter. But I ate it anyway, and lucky me, I'm still alive and not suffering from any kind of terrible stomach rebellion.

I was able to watch some TV tonight. Fortunately, after a three-week, hockey-induced hiatus, The Hour was back on with a new episode (unfortunately for George, his favourite team, the Habs, were eliminated from the play offs this weekend).

My dad came over and while I washed dishes and tidied my house, he raked my back yard. I know, that's not lucky so much as spoiled, but I do feel very fortunate to have a good relationship with my father and a nice, clean back yard as a result of it.

While cleaning, the phone rang. It was my sister calling to say that she put an offer in on a house today and was accepted. I feel that some of my luck was transferred to her, and I am okay with that. I asked her what she ended up paying.

"One eighty-one," she said.

"Ah, lucky number," I said, smiling. '81 was the year I was born.

"Did you tell mom and dad yet?"

"No, you were the first person I called."

I can't say that I cried, but I nearly did. I wanted to. I was touched. I'm lucky to have her for a sister. We're good together.

Tonight, because it was Monday, and because I was not suffering from Chicken Pox nor food poisoning, was The Hills night. After she got off work, Tracy came by to watch the show with me and to celebrate. I had a bottle of red wine waiting. The appropriateness of the label didn't even register with me right away.

"Bin 555," I said. "How perfect."

At the end of the night, Tracy some how knocked her glass off the table. It fell to the floor and bounced. Not a crack or a chip. A Cinco de Mayo miracle.