Momma, Dad Josephine and Jake were there for the "dirty thirties", but I was but a mere gleam in my Daddy's eye at the time. I think they were called that because the wind blew and there was no vegetation to hold the soil. I could be wrong, but I think that, "therefore it is!" And we do all live by what we believe to be true, don't we?
I do know that I used to have a bunch of ration stamps. I think I sold them on ebay because every time I looked at them, it made me sad. There is just something about poverty that seems to eat at my very soul. I am not poor and I am not rich by any means, but I am "secure" and that is what I have clawed and scratched my whole life to attain. I guess I may fall in the category of the "working poor."
Poverty seems to have a hold that goes to the bottom of my soul. I have my house, car, savings and am secure, but I still have little habits that irritate even me. I have all kinds of things I do to make a few extra dollars. I am a seamstress and the money I make from that goes into my third bank account which is known as "my third bank account." That money is designed for things I need and want as opposed to my first bank account which is for my retirement check which supports the house and feeds me. I also have a savings account with a minimal balance in case the other two dry up. To say I live from hand to mouth would be a good way to describe it. But be aware that I do this not because I am dirt poor, but because the memory of when I was dirt poor is ingrained into my very being to the bottom of my soul. It is an empty part in me that can never be filled. It is what guides every thing I do from the time I get up until I go to bed at night.
First, I am a hoarder. My closet is filled with clothes I have never worn and will never wear, but still I keep every stitch. I went yesterday to buy new panties and bras. I came home with 3 bras and forgot the panties. I went through my old bras and did not throw any away. The new ones are in the back for a "special occasion" and I want to ask you just what in the hell that means? I can not foresee every wearing them until all the straps and fastners fall off the old ones and can not be stitched back on! When I put a pair of underwear on and they slide down before I can get my jeans on, out they go.
It does not stop there! I eat alone most of the time. I do cook and I try to cook for one, but that does not happen. I was trained in "institutional cooking", which means every meal is built with an army in mind. this means that if I cook a pot of beans, I will eat on that pot until it is gone or until it grows a soft, green mold across its top whilst setting in the refrigerator waiting to be "warmed up one more time".
I am looking at plastic tubs in the middle of my front room full of yarn. I love yarn and am now in the process of crocheting "market bags" since I hear plastic bags are going to be discontinued at the end of the year. Sadly, most of my yarn is polyester or some such synthetic that for some reason I can not bring myself to use on my "recycle bags." You do notice that the beginning of this paragraph uses the word "tubs" with an "s"?
It does not stop there. Every scrap of paper must be used on both sides. Any container with a lid can be used for storage of something that should have, no doubt, been thrown out long ago. I have probably 6,000 yards of fabric down stairs that I will use "some day". When I do make a quilt I go buy "new fabric" just for that purpose.
I have 2 heavy duty mixers and one Kitchen Aid. Also have an assortment of ladles, mixing spoons, measuring cups and spoons, cutting boards, knives of every size and shape for chopping or cutting anything that does or does not move. I have five different sizes of roasters! One for a very small piece of meat all the way up to a 20 pound turkey and beyond.
My mother is the one who pointed out to me that I was a hoarder and why. Kenny's mother used to wrap up a tablespoon of leftovers and put it in the freezer for "later".
We save containers. We save boxes. We save change. Nothing is save from us and everything that crosses my path has more than one use. It is sad, but you know what is sadder? That our society is not geared to people like me. Drink a pop, throw away the can. Eat a half of a sandwich, throw the other half in the trash. Thirsty? Spend $1.50 on a bottle of water and drink half of it and throw the rest in the trash. I wonder how many tons of trash are generated every day on this poor planet?
The longer I live the more thankful I am that this world is not my home, I'm only passing through! click here to play
People who forget the past tend to repeat it! Just something to think about!
