I’m not a Fortune Teller. At least not the classic image of one.
You know, the Gypsy born outside of town, in a tent, camper or shack, down by the river. I wasn’t born one, a Fortune Teller, or a Gypsy. And I am not a Gypsy Fortune Teller! Or am I? As I reflect on my childhood, perhaps I was a Gypsy? I had lived in 3 different countries, separated by 17,000 miles of oceans, by the age of 8.