…truly the mother of invention. A bum barn door that threatens to flatten me like Wile E. Coyote every time it jumps its track fixed by switching doors around instead of spending money now on proper replacements before the winter.
Sweaters, flannel shirts and blankets save on oil. Less but longer shop shifts take advantage of the slowly built-up heat. All that squash baked and frozen into chocolate breakfast breads. Ten gallons of red ruby wine from grapes.
A turkey from the freezer, pie fillings from the stash of better times, and all we need this Thanksgiving are the other friends who have no place to go.
The necessity is the gratefulness we feel when what we have becomes enough to share.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology