Normally I drive straight home from the cubicle job as usually my DD25 is visiting with Lil Moomette and Slugger waiting for me at my house. I enjoy their visit for an hour or so before DD leaves to go back home.
Today though, I detoured and took the opportunity to purchase some much-needed tops for the office. Although I’m on a diet (officially), last years’ tops don’t seem to fit like they used to (perhaps they shrunk in the wash?)
I posted the above picture for Wordless Wednesday several weeks ago, which I think (still) aptly reflects what can (or is) happening in this country. Although I wasn’t around for the Great Depression that took place in the 1930s, I’ve heard plenty about it from my Grandmother (who lived to be 101), my late mother and my late mother-in-law. It wasn’t pretty.
On the corner at the traffic light was a man holding a corrugated cardboard sign, that said something along the lines of “Out of Work Father, Stranded…”. This man was just standing there quietly, not waiving or doing anything in particular.
Most people are sceptical of scenes such as this, and think that although panhandling (which is to my knowledge, against the law), that any “contributions” are normally used for alcohol, cigarettes or whatever ~ and actually never for food, clothing or housing.
Looking in my rear view mirror, I saw that the man was called over to a car two cars behind me, and accepted a “donation.”
Then the lighted changed to Green, and I was on my way. I had been thinking about stopping to get my usual cup of coffee to-go at the drive-through coffee shop that’s on every corner around here, so I could relax and enjoy it when I got home from a hard day at the office.
But I drove right past the coffee shop, and back home to my nice house and family.
I’ll be watching the Debate tonight, but my mind’s already made up and nothing that’s said tonight is going to persuade me otherwise.
There, but for the Grace of God, Go I.
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