(One of many tunnels on the Blue Ridge Parkway we went through yesterday)
As I wrote in a post here, I love reading (in my stats) the search terms that bring people to my blog. A few days ago, I found this one: “being broke empty nest job sucks blues.” Now I’m not sure which of my previous posts brought that person’s search to my blog, but let me say to them, “My friend…I feel your pain.” Except in our case, I’d replace the “job sucks blues” part with “no job blues.”
Yep, we’ve been without a job for seven months. But not for lack of trying. Lord knows, our job hunting has been almost a full-time occupation in itself. And, without a doubt, being fifty (and over) makes it far more difficult to find work. Apparently, youth trumps experience. But that’s for another post.
So we’ve been a mite discouraged and disheartened when weeks have gone by without so much as an interview, not to mention being a little stressed at seven months without a paycheck. But the good news is: Blue Ridge Blue Collar Man has a job. The bad news is: It’s temporary. But the good news is: it has a good chance of becoming permanent. But the bad news is: It only pays $12.17 an hour. But the good news is: we are really, really good at being frugal. As they say, we squeeze those pennies ‘til Abe Lincoln hollers.
Not only that, but Blue Ridge Blue Collar Man has rebuilt the collapsed closet bemoaned in my last post with shelves made from salvaged wood and a clothes rod made from the top rail of a chain link fence. Those shelves could hold a tractor engine. I’ll never have to worry about closet collapse catastrophes in our bedroom again. Then my intrepid and clever handyman took the back off our broken television, removed the stuck videotape, tinkered around, and got our TV working again. In addition, he jacked up my Camry and poked and prodded until he figured out what was making the strange noise when I turned the wheel. He made a few adjustments and now she’s purring like a kitten.
So there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, and we can breathe again. Sure, gas is still almost four dollars a gallon, but at least we have a job to drive to. And, sure, George W. Bush is still in office, but it’s only a few months longer. Praise be. We live in one of the most beautiful places on earth, we have a front porch to dream on, and we have a garden with flowers for the soul and food for the body. How can I not feel hopeful? How can I keep from singing?