Lizzie Hopkins

Today's arithmantic forecast is a thirty-six nine, one of the most even and fortuitous days of them all, which is why I wonder how this...
They say that arithmantic forecast is relative, and I suppose I find that to be true today.

Emma -- I told you to carry your journal and I hope that you are -- if you're reading or you read this later, I don't think it's very nice of you to skive off a date with your boyfriend. Michael actually came here to find you, and he's too nice a boy to leave behind.

Well. If anyone's seen her or does see her do tell her to come home because a pretty little blonde in the sort of clothing she chooses to wear in the summer could have any number of things happen to her when she wanders off alone, it wouldn't be the first time and we are very, very worried.


Wayne is choosing tonight to be fussy, I wish he wouldn't.

Today's arithmantic forecast is a natural one, which has imposed itself upon our lives as such already. For the sake of brevity and privacy I'll spare you from the details of that, but things are fine for me. I suggest that people spend time with their friends and family today, a family dinner, or at least to be certain not to be alone. Yes, you, Victor.

Wayne is doing well, he's very clever and personable, even if he doesn't like to see me leave for work. May On top of everything, though, he really wants to see his darling cousins. Including the wedding, which just promises to be lovely, absolutely lovely. If only Jo would stop fussing over the dress.

I was thinking we could have a nice birthday dinner for Wayne, on the third -- it's a Tuesday, but it doesn't have to be long, I just really would like to see any of you that might be able to come. I miss everyone.

It's hard to believe that in less than two weeks, Wayne will be one year old. In a month, Jo will be married, and in only a few months, Joe will be a father, Clive will be a seventh year, and Victor in his last year of Auror training. After everyt I feel like this last year just got away from me. I haven't forgotten a thing, but I look back at it and wonder where it went.

I'm very excited to see the last half of 1981. I have the sincerest feeling that things are set to improve.

( Private: Stantons/Joe Wadcock/Sam Frobisher )

Today's arithmantic forecast is a solitary two from a twenty-nine. This indicates several contradictions and many complications. A nine shows completion while a two shows separation, and a solitary two is a combination of singular forces into duality -- altogether I'm not sure what it indicates in particular, but it'll become clear enough tomorrow. It always does.

I suggest people consider leaving any adventure or plans for tomorrow. Tomorrow is a natural three, solid and simple and completely lacking in complexity. Choose your days wisely, I always do.

Not much to say, it's a holiday and so we're celebrating, I hope everyone else will as well.

Today's arithmantic forecast is a twenty-three five, which indicates a contradiction. A two indicates separation and balance and a three indicates unity and a lack of focus. Twenty-three fives, because of the inherent contradiction, tend to either be the culmination of problems that will later reveal themselves, or they are the aftermath of the problems of the previous day.

My own day was not very eventful, besides the arrival of an invitation to a one-on-one business dinner on Friday with Augustus Rookwood, head of the Department of Mysteries. I haven't decided if I'm going to accept yet, but this isn't exactly a new offer.

I'll think about it. It's very tempting, but I like Transport well enough. Despite my susp

Wayne is doing well even if. I'm not as thin as I used to be, but I suppose that's what happens when you become a mother. I'll lose all that weight when he starts to walk, I'm sure.

It's just been a long day. Wayne just went down and I think I should sleep soon as well.

Today's arithmantic forecast, like the last, is a natural one. I would like to hear from everyone today, because natural ones rarely bode well, pointing towards isolation and the imposition of selfish agendas. I'm just grateful that Emma and Clive are safe at Hogwarts again, though I miss them both terribly. Christmas holidays are too short.

I suppose today has already proved itself to fit its arithmantic forecast, a natural one, an isolation, because I have

There are no words, no numbers, there is no way to communicate the ... feeling one has when their six-month-old son is having his eyesight checked, his hearing, his developmental milestones, his nervous system. I have no way of explaining this, the feeling or why it happened, there is no explanation, there is nothing. There is nothing to be said or done for it, to justify it or to make me feel any better for it.

In ten years, the three month developmental delay likely will mean nothing. His eyesight's probably been compromised; he might need glasses. There's no shame in that. He might have trouble in his hearing. But for now, there's no telling, there's no knowing, there are no promises and no certainties.

There are mysteries great and small and my little Wayne is one of the smallest, but no matter how ... inexplicably terrified I am, I'm entirely certain of my gratitude. No matter what happens, I've been blessed.

1981 is a troublesome arithmantic year. A book by an AJ Irwin from the SAI has a notable chapter that ignores the questions of the day and purely mathematically considers the nature of the many arithmantic cues of the various calendars, and the results are nothing short of puzzling. This year is sort of an arithmantic ... chasm, I think, is the best word.

I hope everyone's all right.

Today's arithmantic forecast is a natural one. I hope to hear from everyone today because natural ones rarely bode well, so if you can spare the time, just please drop a line to tell me that everything's fine. It may be a difficult day for some, as it can isolate, and I hope everyone is faring well.

More recent experiments have included toying with Cabbalistic Gematria and Chinese numerology. The best books on any sort of comparative Arithmancy come from the States, and there are some interesting theories, but I'm still looking to find some sort of unified theory -- and if I could only get my thoughts down on paper more formally than this, more clearly than this, I would make an attempt.

But at this point I'm a Transport Arithmancer with a four-month-old son, so perhaps reconciling the theological questions of the Gematria with the revelations of Chinese numerology should be left until later.

Wayne is home, happy, and thankfully eating a bit less. He's starting to try to talk, which is encouraging; he's always been a bit quieter than some babies I've been around (Clive, for example, woke us up almost every night), and he's due for a checkup tomorrow at St Mungo's, so we'll look into that. It's nervewracking having a premature child, I won't lie. Every little thing could be something gone wrong, so you always have to check.

Victor's fine, or at least he's recovering. I knew this was going to happen to him. I'm bringing Wayne up to see him when we're both there tomorrow. I don't think Victor's seen Wayne for a good long while now. Lisa, please know that if you want a warm meal, my kitchen is always open. Alex, I hope you're faring well after everything, and you can feel free to come over as well. Wayne took quite well to you the last time he saw you. And Mary, how is Leah?

Jo, Clive, you two are notoriously silent. I expect to hear something, especially about how everyone is getting along now.

I think that's everyone I explicitly have to address. How is everyone?

Today's arithmantic forecast is a thirty-three six, a very fortuitous day, and I couldn't be happier.

Wayne is home. The nursery is so darling and it's even better with him in it. It's been a week and even though he's woken us up more often than not, it's not so bad since I've been waiting so long just to have him here. We still have to take him in to see the Healer once every few weeks, but we don't mind, really, not with the wonderful treatment we got.

I almost felt at first like we'd been robbed of something with how early he had been born, that I had missed something important. That I was a bad mother. But I have him back and I can hold him whenever I want, so everything is fine. I almost want to stay home with him.

The usual projects continue at work, rather fun projects really, and I feel privileged to take part though I th don't even think it.

Emma, I hope you're behaving yourself. You too, Clive. Maddie, I know you are. All three of you had best be studying, of course. Victor, I expect to see you within the week, you're out of school so you can't hide from me now.

And Jo, I am doing my best to come to your first match, but we'll have to see.

( And for those of you who haven't come to see him, Wayne and his teddy bear. )

That's all.

Oh, I particularly like today's date.

1+9+0+8 = 10+8 = 18 = 1+8 =9
1+9+8+0 = 10+8 = 18 = 1+8 =9
9+9 = 18 = 1+8 = 9

Dates like that don't come along very often, though we'll have another within a month, each sequence is different in a way that would take longer that I mean to write in here to describe.

Today's arithmantic forecast is an eighteen-nine and it shows in the newspaper, as business is doing well. I appear to be making entries on many business-oriented days, but I suppose that's me going about my business as I've been industriously Hufflepuff and write only when I have a moment to myself.

Wayne's smiling now. He smiles and it's the sweetest thing you'll ever see. I really must take pictures at my next visit. Only one month until he's here -- he arrives home, ironically, on Victor's birthday, the seventeenth. I do hope that I get at least a few family members here, and that not all of them are busy drinking and celebrating at the Birthday.

I'm also so pleased to hear about Bridget and Miles getting engaged, I'm so happy for you two. Congratulations again.

Although I feel silly asking since I've not seen her for longer than two hours before dinner for weeks now, does anyone know where Emma is? If she's in London, I would just like to know, though Birmingham has seen a few Dementors in the past weeks itself. Harborne's been lucky, but Quinton saw one or two, which I only knew because I've been keeping my eye on the Muggle news.

There's much more complexity to the recent arithmantic forecasting than I could possibly explain, with details on astronomical calendars, the calendars of various faiths and places, of Arabic translation and I'm not sure I can explain it well in words, but there's something going on. My last great project for Arithmancy before I left school was an arithmantic breakdown of the meaning of divination through Tarot cards, and one of the most fascinating results was the breakdown of the meaning, use, probability, and number shift in the use of the Wheel of Fortune.

The numbers are shifting. That's all.

Today's arithmantic forecast is a twenty-six eight, which is a good day for investment and business if you're willing to risk it all. Both two and six promise strict duality, so there's no promise as to which way your luck will fall.

Wayne is one month old now and he's doing fine. They say he should be all right to leave within six weeks if things keep going as well as they are, and he's doing well enough now that we can go to St Mungo's every day and spend some time with him -- even hold him for longer than a bit.

We continue our pilgrimage into London every day, work or not, despite all the obstacles, because there is nothing anyone can send against me that'll keep me away from my son, dementors, vampires, giants, I'll find a way back here. At any rate, there have been dementors in Birmingham, so there is at least a choice in where we might cower in fear.

Work goes well. Even if I've a few questions for my sup I still get letters from Mysteries requesting their consideration, but I think I prefer a more practical bent to my maths.

I don't understand why Victor's numbers are always wrong.
My family seems well, if quiet, which I would normally consider a sign of foreboding. Am I missing something?

I wish Emma would sit still for longer than ten minutes. I dreamt she was snatched by a dementor three days ago
How is everyone? I've been between my house, the Ministry and St Mungo's more than I've talked to anyone besides my brothers and sister -- and even then barely -- Frobishers, Ollertons, any good news to share?

Forgive my handwriting and any mistakes I make because I actually had Jo sneak my journal out of my purse so I could write this because I'm sure the Healers wouldn't approve.

Our son, Wayne Hopkins, was born at 2:15 AM on 3 June 1980, a few hours ago, and three months early. He weighs two and a half pounds and is 12 inches long. I am going to be in St Mungo's for the next two days for my own treatment and then staying here as much as I can of course to attend to Wayne.

They say I can see him and maybe even hold him later today. But he is as tiny as he sounds, my little boy.

I just want to hold him. I want to hold him now.
I think I'm going to ask again, though. It has to help him, at least a little bit. Oh. And I'm fine, in case anyone was wondering.

Today's arithmantic forecast is a one from a nineteen-ten, a day regarding personal achievement and completion by the individual. It's a good day for my son to be born. He will do great things.

Oh no I haven't even told them I'm not coming into work today. Oh no. Oh well.

Today's arithmantic forecast was a six from a thirty-three, a day regarding family and set aside by a thirty-three, which is significant when it arises -- as we all know, dual threes are more potent than a single three but naturally less potent than a triple.

Of course, in the matter of the arithmantic forecast of things small, such as a date, very rarely result in a triple of anything, due to practical reasons which anyone can discern.

Suffice to say I was expecting news, but it still surprised me when the news arrived.

Oh, well. I suppose it wasn't important enough to mention until now, when he was forced -- my brother is enlisting as an Auror and forgot to tell me for the past two months.

Would it be out of line for me to ask who knew before I did, or may I just presume that Victor chose not to mention it to his FRAGILE PREGNANT SISTER to keep her calm and NOT BRING UP THE PRACTICAL POINTS INVOLVED?

I am not feeling labour pains. They can't be labour pains. I'm barely in my third trimester. Calm down, Lizzie.
The due date is a two. A bad two. A two from two ones, a solitary two, I don't like it
I don't like 1980 at all. Eights are unpredictable.

I'm fine. Feel free to ignore me. After all, that seems to be a common practise.