The Star of Riches

Last time we went grocery shopping, I picked up a bag of fortune cookies, because who doesn’t love fortune cookies, right?  We had them for dessert on Saturday night.  Davey’s said something like You will work hard and help a needy child.   “Figures,” he said.  “I always have to work hard.”  Curse of Adam and all that.  Mine read The star of riches is shining on you this month. The next day, I sold my cow, after weeks of fielding phone calls that went nowhere.  “You should buy a lottery ticket,” Davey said.

Actually, what I really needed to do was fill out a pile of paperwork and find all my scattered receipts, because the great state of Kentucky, apparently, has a program in which they invest in farmers by reimbursing them for certain project costs they may have incurred during the year in the course of improving their business.  In our county, you can receive up to $2000 in up to three project areas.  We had a lot of projects this year, and I thought to myself, the worst they can do is say no.  But if they say yes, that’ll pay for a lot of a fencing project we’ve got going.

They’ll say yes, of course, because the star of riches is shining on me.

“You should still go buy a lottery ticket,” Davey said.

Now I don’t really put much stock in fortune cookies.  I told God the other day that the star of riches is indeed shining on me.  I have everything I could possibly need.  I’m blessed with such beautiful children, whose numbers He has seen fit to increase by one.  I am happily married after quite a few years of sadness and pain.  I really couldn’t be any wealthier.

I don’t expect we’ll ever have a lot of money, and as my friend Anne-Marie pointed out the other day, when you do happen to come into some extra money, something happens that costs the exact amount you just got.  One could reason that too much money causes crises.  Winning the lottery should cause quite a lot of crises, and really, who needs that?

I was on my way out the door this morning to take Brenna to her second-to-last orthodontist visit.  “Buy five dollars worth of quick-pick tickets while you’re out!” Davey called behind me.

I sighed, but we stopped by the grocery store and picked up some Powerball tickets.  The jackpot is only $50 million, so after taxes and splitting it with other winners, we should only come away with a modest amount.  How much trouble could that cause?  We’re already planning our trip on Thursday to pick up our winnings, for the star of riches is shining on me.

Still, I think we’ll pack lunch.