Last night I dined with my favorite author friend (apart from you, Bev) Sandra Gulland at La Brasserie (apologies to Valeria if I butchered the restaurant name - I know no French). Her book, my book - so much to catch up on! Sandra summers in Canada and I haven't seen her since last May. The latest draft of her latest book is in to her editor - whew! I told her about my ankle being pinched by Who Knows Who With What Message. She agrees it's a good topic to pursue.
Today a spa client say, Oh, you were grabbed on your heel. Heal?
Another spa client told about visiting a shaman near Cuernavaca some 20 years ago for the "chicken treatment." I've heard of curanderos using eggs and fire and gladiolas but not live chickens. This New York gal says she was having trouble with a "friend" who owed her money. So another American friend in Cuernevaca took her to see Don Lucio who had her stand over a burning something and let the smoke go up her skirt. Then Don Lucio and the friend, who in fact was apprenticing with the Don, beat her lightly with live chickens. Then the chickens were sacrificed and thrown off the mountain. Ya. Then leaving the mountain the friend's car broke down and the friend accused her of causing the disrepair with the release of all her bad energy.
Were things fixed with your friend at home? I asked.
Not really, the client said. But I had been out of work for quite some time and I DID get a job immediately upon my return to New York.