Telling the story backward, here is the outcome, followed by the events which led to it.
During my years of network television employment, Let's Make A Deal was taped in the studio building across from my office. People dressed as servings of french fries lined up with the hope of getting to choose among doors 1, 2 or 3. Because I've learned that most days tell me what they will become, I remain watchful, alert, to the way one plan quickly reconfigures as another. I pick the first door and the third one opens and there you have it.
The early morning - by my definition, 7 is early - text from the bank warned me of something stupid and messy. In preparation for our government's potential abdication of all fiscal responsibility - the threat of unpaid military salaries, Social Security benefits and the like - our apartment manager had deposited the rent check with horrifying swiftness and our already iffy house of cards had become a vortex of slippage.
To entertain and perhaps calm my mental/emotional turmoil as the bank debated whether or not to pay outstanding debits before funds arrived on Wednesday, I thought of my childhood model of financial abundance, Scrooge McDuck. Diving into his pile of money, he could headline my carping blog post. Through Google I found an image which, when I clicked on it, took me, with awareness that providence had stepped in, to artist Lori Nix, who constructs miniature dioramas for the purpose of photographing them. As she explains in this link, the photographs, the two-dimensional pieces, are the art; the dioramas are the vehicles which carry her there.
Lori Nix saved me from whining. She and her recreated scenes of Kansas disasters from her childhood restored me to center. Whatever the actual cause of what seemed like the ill wind of August, it no longer mattered. It will either be resolved in my favor or it won't. Irene at the bank was kind and helpful.
Here is what I know right now: all is not as it feels, appears or claims to be. The layers of possibility have been patiently and skillfully applied. Don't be fooled by the obvious. What is real is as subtle as the wafted hint of night-blooming jasmine. I thought the plant had died, yet there was its gift as the thinning fog drifted in. We stumble on in the midst of magic. Stardust, indeed.