If I were a short story writer, I would have at least two story germs from today's drive home. One concerns a nice little pond in someone's side yard that had one white goose near the floating corpse of another white goose. I can't remember if geese mate for life. So, what had happened? Was the dead one a he or a she?
The other concerns several trailer homes along a stretch of country road. The homes look remarkably alike. Are they family? What are these people like? What are their dramas? "I want you to listen to what I have to say!" yelled into a cell phone by a thin and acne-scarred young woman. (Which I heard at the Goodwill this afternoon.)
One thing that is, I guess, too common to provoke outrage anymore, is the run down house where the husband is a drug addict and his three kids sleep on mats on the floor. They just put up one of those giant inflatable snow globes in what passes for their front yard that cost $50. On clearance.
My little rant: This is what keeps poor people poor; spending lavishly on spur of the moment, throw-away items from the WalMart.. Buy more cheap plastic crap that will break next week. Then go to the food pantry to feed the young-uns.
Maybe stuff like this. (Which I stole from Sweetie's side of the Mac. I have no attribution.)
Although Sweetie is working for his new employers, the shiny-new and better insurance is still in the works. He was instructed to go ahead and fill prescriptions and he would be reimbursed. So, today at Butt Drugs the refill for our combined Happy Pills cost the better part of $400. For one month.
I had decided to take WalMart up on their $4 drugs for the two things they cover at that price. So that was nice and everything. As they have anticipated, I shopped for awhile and spent sixty bucks on kitty litter, booze and make up. Yeah, figgered I need to try to look presentable at least sometimes. When I leave the house. If that doesn't work, then I can try the makeup. (That's a jo-, I say, that's a joke, son.)
The Big Deal today was Rex the Mailman bringing me a package from The Insubordiknit. She had put out an APB for hand-painted (or otherwise, I guessed,) clothes for her kids' Christmas presents. I had tie-dyed onesies and painted youth size Tshirts left over from my bricks and mortar store and figured, What the heck? Pass them along.
So, today I got a package from Jacey with a cake of hand painted sock yarn and a 110 yard skein of handspun that she said was "too daffy to sell." Wonderful! (Even if I have failed to capture the wonderfulness in this shot.)
