Murphy's Law dictated that my car turn on every possible trouble light the week that there was no extra anything around my place. It can be disheartening.
Sometimes, when things seem bleak, expenses high, and income low, I cast my mind to the reminiscences of dear Oline. 93 years old, Oline lived through the dirty 30's but assured me the worst times were in the 40's. She said there was no work to be had anywhere. She left her baby with her mother and took her older son, as her husband loaded up their elderly truck and went looking for work down-Island.
The little family found a sweet wooded spot along the Gorge and pitched their tent.
The husband found a job on the waterfront directing traffic. Unfortunately, after only a week on the job, his leg was run over by one of the machines. He hitched a ride from the hospital to the Gorge, only to find a Policeman waiting.
"You are on private property. You'll have to move on."
The little family folded their tent, packed their possessions, and drove back to where they had started. They pitched that tent on Mom's property, but of course she made them come inside even though she only had 4 rooms.
Eventually things leveled out for them and work was found.
I have a home. I have a steady job. I have food in my cupboard.
Not even close.