When I left the house this morning, Sarah stood at the hearth, stirring our stew pot. There was nothing in it but water and a few turnips. Six hours later, I return home to find my wife stirring the same pot. Judging by the complete lack of cooking aromas, I’m pretty sure my wife forgot to add anything to the pot. In fact, she may be stirring an empty cauldron, for all I know.
When the court confiscated three acres of my wife’s meadow to pay the bills her first husband left, the loss of potential income destroyed my plans for an easy life. I went back to my previous occupation and did jobs for local farmers. But I’m not as agile as I once was, and farmers only hire me to fix fences or mow meadows in the hot sun.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish
Comment on this Bubble
Your comment and a link to this bubble will also appear in your Facebook feed.