Ghosts in The Attic

I feel like I’m pretty poor. In the scheme of the world I’m wealthy. In the scheme of Americans, I’m pretty damn poor. I don’t even have a house. Still living with my parents and I’m almost 40. It feels… pathetic really.

It feels like any bit of money I get means nothing, but a paltry amount could be life changing to me. Winning the lottery would put me in a position to take care of my family.

If I were to win the lottery and it were a significant amount, I would take it in one lump sum. I can’t guarantee that the lottery department would be around long enough to pay me for life.

I would move to to a rural plot of land around the Alps. I would create a garden retreat to invite people to come stay at. They would be able to learn about sustainability and farm to table while taking in the views.

I would love to be given the opportunity to revitalize interest in sustainability and self sufficiency. We owe it to ourselves to preserve the ways of the past and to be good stewards.

I would love to be able to do something like that here, but with the current goings of the U.S. I am ashamed of my country and being a part of it.