Fruits of my labour?
Well George, it was my dream years ago to to gather up the fruits of my own labour and bring them to market and earn a fair and honest wage.
Hmmmmm … Never happened George … Trees were too high I guess. Stepladder? Well I did have one once. Somebody borrowed it … Well actually I took it to them … Did some volunteer work for them and the ladder is still there … Well I’d need a truck to pick it up … Won’t fit into my wee vehicle. Just one more round-tuit in my life. No George, they didn’t offer to return it. Besides I’m getting a bit too old to be climbing those trees.
I digress … There I was intending to tell you what I’d do with the proceeds of my long long life … That is if I had ever managed to exchange the fruits of my labour for a decent wage. Yes yes George I know … Nobody wants to hear a sob story.
Well it used to be that I tried to be prepared for the day my ship would finally come in … Sigh … I’d read all these long notices and collect the best advice on what to do with my money, how to invest it, what charities and foundations I would support, how I would …
Yes George I guessed you might say that.
Well I admit it George … I still find it tempting to peruse the odd bit of writing that might have been useful had my dreams been realized.
Here is the sort of thing I am talking about George: