So, while I was contemplating the pleasures of making rat/raccoon/mice stew (we woodsmen eat whatever meat we trap), I got to thinking.

Now, I ain’t much of a thinker, to be honest.

I flunked out of 13th grade and had to start over at another one of them institutes of higher learning.

Not like I can’t solve world hunger if’n I put my mind to it, though.

Of course, I ain’t got no mind but I got a mind to tell you what I was thinking.

See here, it’s like this.

We got this global employment imbalance, that’s what I’m saying.

It don’t take no rocket scientist to see why.

Why, I ask, why?

Well, if them experts is right, we have just about as many female breadwinners as men.

And, on top of that, many of them is single mothers trying to feed their babies.

I’m all for women’s librarians, what they like to call themselves “Women’s Lib.”  We should’ve taught them lady friends how to read a long time ago.  The more they can read, the more they can follow instructions and become real good at their jobs — don’t matter to me none if they’s a baggin’ groceries or rocketin’ toward the Moon.

What I want to know, though, is if a family run by a woman is spending as much of her money in the consumer economy as a family run by a man.

That there might explain why we have such a global employment imbalance and might even explain the income inequality problems we’s a facing in these here troubled economic times.

I’m just an old country boy trying to survive.

I scrape ticks off my body every day.  I swat at mosquitoes without knowing they’re there.  I scratch at my poison ivy boils like clockwork.  Red ants think my ankles is a biting post.

I shake my fist at varmints eating my figs and mulberries.  They done broke my persimmon tree in half.

I ain’t much but I’m something.

My house is so chewed-up and broken down, you can’t tell it from the rusted truck and old jalopy with flat tires hiding in the weeds.

You women-folk has got to do your part, if’n you’s gonna claim you’re just as good as us men were when we ruled the roost and had the economy running full steam under the moonshine still — you better get them rich folks and their corporationalisms to open their rainy-day piggy banks and help you out of this pickle.

Otherwise, there’s a world of hurting about to hit us, if the creek don’t rise and the tornadoes don’t blow over the outhouse ’cause them foxes has done got into the henhouse and fertilized some eggs.