Busy days here at The Soup Peddler. Nothing we can't handle, mind you. An auspicious 1066 quarts of soup sold last week. Is it folly to ignore the numerical cues that hint of links between the hidden and the seen? The cat leaves six pieces of dry food in his bowl, scratches his cheek twenty-four times with his back foot, turns around eleven times before settling into a cozy spot (your black coat--upon which he deposits exactly thirty-one individual white hairs). After forty minutes he meows forty-five times at the door, and those six numbers hit on the powerball the following day. But what do we do with 1066? Invading a small island nation is out of the question. Massacre a scapegoated ethnic minority? Not in this day and age! Hire a guy named Norman? Perhaps. We'll keep our eyes open for opportunities.