We have these neighbors that shuck oysters for a living next door.

Each day I pass them back and forth shucking one pile of oysters after another.  There is especially this one old skinny woman who seems to never leave her post of sitting at the table bent over cracking open one shell after another.

The reality of the difficulty of their work really hit me the other night at dinner when we were served a platter of fried oysters, which were absolutely yummy (now what would not be yummy if deep friend in oil, extra crispy on the outside, juicy on the inside) But I had this realization how futile their work almost is from sun up to sun down when you realize they make about a dollar for the meal we had that night.



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