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View from a window
by Judith Bakkensen
When I was a young woman, I lived in a hippie
commune. I remember the time I was panicked about making my rent of
$45.00. My old man and I were unemployed at the time and very broke.
I sat in the backyard and wondered how to make the money materialize.
Asking my folks was out of the question. They didn't approve of my
lifestyle. Since I was in a rural setting I decided to ride my bike
around to see if any work was available picking crops. I found a bean
field two miles from the commune. I worked for a week and made enough
for rent and then some. I used to pick beans for summer money when I was
a kid. Strange how it all came back so quickly.
Now I am an old woman. My old man really is old. We
live in a nice rambler in a community with other oldsters like us. I'm
looking out my window and wondering how to make ends meet. Our health
insurance has gone up $185.00 per month. Our electrity and gas is so
high, we take sponge baths and hang our clothes over chair backs to dry.
My old man needs a prescription we can't afford. I can't ask my parents
for money. They are dead. They would not approve of my lifestyle
today either. They were prosperous. We are middle class poor.
Or maybe we are not middle class any more. I'm not sure. We
are in our eighties. We may have to start going to the food bank or get
food stamps. We used to donate to the food bank in our younger years.
Well, what I really need is a bean field to work in.
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