Ivo, you broke my heart. All that fame and fortune were fleeting. Here I went and tied up fifty cents this morning thinking I was about to make a killing, and you had to bring me back down to earth. Ah well, at least I can thank you for the translation. By the way, there is kind of a funny story behind my non-Harrach souvenir drinking glass.
Yesterday I saw the glass sitting on the back of a shelf at an estate sale, looked at it, and thought, no, it can't be, and passed it up. Then, as typical in such situations, the darn thing nagged at me all night long. First thing this morning, I'm back down to the estate sale thinking all the while, someone has probably beat me to it. Pitty they didn't.
If there is any lesson to be learned, its to trust my first instinct. The glass was only 50 cents, but it undoubtedly cost me at least $5.00 for the gas to run back and forth.