Back from Yarmouth

I'm sure you're amused at the idea that I think I can actually write a blog entry every day. Well, you can wipe that smile off your face! It's going to happen! 

 I have just returned to my little Limerick (Maine) farm from Yarmouth (Maine), after two days performing butler duties for Walter, a chocolate lab, and Greta, a one-eyed Jack Russell terrier. Yarmouth is much further from Limerick than the 46-odd miles that separate them. Try light years. As I told Rex tonight (Rex is my husband, not a dog), I just do not belong there. 

It's very upscale in Yarmouth. The smell of money even overpowers the scent of the sea. I look around at shoppers at Hannaford and wonder where the poor people are. In this day and economy, the only poor people in Yarmouth are those whose homes have been foreclosed on, and since they can't afford housing anywhere else in town, they have to move away. So I'm assuming that Yarmouth's poor now are ... hmmm, Limerick's poor? 

Could be. 

 It feels good to be back in Limerick, where poverty, starting with mine, is in-your-face. We don't pull any punches here. We all hit the swap shop at the dump on Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday. The one thing I have refused to do is apply to the Lions Club for help with the cost of eye care and spectacles. I know those people! I don't want them discussing my finances, such as they are! 

 Whoever you are, rich or poor, male or female, old or young, regular or irregular, welcome to my new blog. For more Deb writings, check out my old blog, mylittlefarm.blogspot.com, on which I would still be writing if the blogspot high mucky-mucks would let me sign into it.