From the Desk of Madame Zuchini

Wars and Rumors of Wars

2012 is an especially intransigent year, what with the Mayan calendar predicting human extinction and all. The fear of oblivion is pervasive; almost subliminal. No one likes change.  Madame predicts the year will end not with a Bang, (as Madame has bought enough Chateau Cardboard to last two years,  should it become necessary to seek refuge in Mr. Pickleman’s  bomb shelter.)  but with a microscopic atom sized ball of glue, which will bounce off me and stick to you! Ha, ha, who says Madame doesn’t have a sense of humor?  But I digress.

Madame predicts that some of you will run into a man wearing an ugly tie, or a Thai woman with an ugly man, or perhaps a group of small children running about with kerosine soaked rags and torches.  Sometime in October you may sneeze without having any Kleenex, or speak with co-workers with chocolate on your chin, or popcorn kernals stuck in your teeth. In any event I see public humiliation in your future come winter.

But take heart, in December there will be an abundance of knick knacks and towels, and yet still, somehow you remain in the hole, financially, and, if the Mayans are right, (which they aren’t), in the metaphoric hole as well.  Come December for some servile addiction to social convention, it will be your duty to make small children happy by introducing them to conspicuous consumption. So Madame advises breaking off all relationships that involve children around September, later than that and it will look obvious. Beware of the letters T, D and double I’s, especially if you are playing Scrabble on the computer with random strangers.

Well, dear friends, despite the gloom and stench of an election year, this will be a hearty soup of a time, filled with moments of  happiness peppered with sorrow and an abundance of  gas at a smart dinner party. Go to them , have them, think about them or lie about  it – smart dinner parties I mean.

Now Madame will celebrate the conclusion of this new prediction with old wine. Madame Out.

Word of the day: Harbinger. . As in: Last year Madame gave out hard boiled eggs for Halloween, which turned out to be the harbinger of getting non-boiled eggs thrown at Madame’s car.