All I ever wanted is my own little cottage and a wee bit of land to go with it. A little bit to keep sheep in and a few chickens and a garden. Once I left home, or it left me, I lived in apartments. I even tried to live as cheaply as possible, in cabins without plumbing, in a 17 ft. trailer, in a barn with rats - to try to save money to buy something, but it didn’t happen. So I went back to school to try to get a better job, more stability, to be able to buy a homestead. In fact, It did buy a house. I had it until I lost my good paying job.Now I just have an enormous debt I can't pay and I'm 66 and living in a trailer park. But that's a long story.
I moved south hoping the lower cost of living and the milder winters would make things easier. I guess it has. But I’m starting to get depressed. It doesn’t look like I will ever get that little cottage again. I've given up everything that I loved - playing music, art, weaving, sheepdog trials - I don’t know what I’m even living for. Thank heavens I have my two dogs. I have to take care of them. Without them, there would be nothing.