The other day I was thinking about a book I read

My son read the whole book and it was a hayride of a book not.  It turned him over in his mind to earlier days when farming on untouched land was possible in the Prairies of America and Canada.  A girl wrote the story about her fabled aunt's story of her life as a farming woman in early America, with no telephone, no gun if I remember rightly, furious neighbours who plagued her life with torment, fire, rocks to pick out of the land to clear the field for farming, drug deals nearly on the train on the way there if there had been such a thing in those days on trains and she was an honest-hearted upstanding citizen who would have none of the riff raff, and then she had no heat, no light, but fire and candles like everyone else then of course but she was alone and had to run a big farm by herself with no family around.  Boy, can I relate to her!  It sounds like my life except that I'm living in a city nowadays.  Police officers turning up over and over when I'm a very good person, taking me prisoner to the hospital for toxic injections, mental asylumming when I haven't even done anything to deserve such unwarranted torment, running out of food in some areas because of carelessness of others when I have earned the money for it but they have forgotten to pay me, at least that's the nicest way I can put it (stolen it from me is how some people might put it), babies being delivered overdue by who knows who because everybody seems to think I'm a nothing and so forth.  At least I got some Spring cleaning done!