Picking - Up or The Work of Life

Mom always says that the work of life can largely be boiled down to moving objects from one place to another, often destined to repeat the process is the reverse order again, and then again, and again.

D is picking-up right now. The process of picking-up in our house has recently transformed from simply re-placing objects to doing puzzles, re-assembling this and that and, well, just looking…looking for places for those reassembled these and thats. Constant strategizing and negotiation of all that we have. It’s amusing to watch a quickly aging man (a-hem) sit down to an ABC puzzle. Size 12 shoes tucked underneath crossed-legs, bottom on the living room floor, head scratching “H follows G…, Where the hell is the K? and why is it always the damned K that is missing??”

Always pondering the big questions, we are.

As an aside, there's a woman that stops by our house every now and again asking if we'd like the sidewalk in front of our house swept (which it ALWAYS needs). We are, therefore, thankful to see her and she seems pleased with our compensation. Anyway, long story short, she dropped by last night at 10:30, said she needed to buy baby formula and could we give her some money to that end and she'd return tomorrow to do the sweeping. I'm wondering if she really needed to buy formula or whether she needed drugs and does that difference really matter all that much anyway. I guess that's an entirely different discussion. Anyway, I've been wondering what constitutes poverty in the minds of bureaucracies because that definition is the one that would dis/allow financial help for this woman (if she wanted it which is, again, another subject all together)...

So, here you go:

Global Poverty

And in the US

Happy New Year all.