So what, exactly, does that mean to you? Well, it should alert you to fact that there are people out there who are doing it every day. Normal people like you and me.

It's a common myth that you need to be a superstar or rocket scientist to work at home. I'd venture a guess to say that majority of people out there working at home are neither. In fact, they are your normal, average, everyday type of people.

You see, what matters most is not that you are super intelligent. It's more important to develop a system and follow that system day in and day out. If you think that you can't create a system, you're welcome to follow on footsteps of thousands who have gone before you.

Allow me to explain. I pay for my family's daily rations of bread, water and occasional snow flake (when in season) by promoting my clients' sites, mostly to search engines. My clients don't live just down road from me. That's mostly because my clients are neither sheep nor cows, but also because they are comfortably settled in Australia, Britain, Florida, Midwest, California and other far-flung places.

Occasionally, one of them wants to know where in Canada my operations are located. It would sound most impressive to mumble something about a 32nd floor vista overlooking Toronto harbor, then hold phone out window to capture sound of honking horns and shouts of foul language below.

However, a more honest answer would be that I am overlooking snow, trees, and snow...and in distance I can see barn where sheep choir practices on summer afternoons.

I suppose I could fake it. The problem is that they don't sell CDs full of honking and swearing. And relaxation music probably won't impress many clients.

So I just tell truth. I live in middle of nowhere.

But where exactly is middle of nowhere? About a mile to east is Dunbar, a fourteen-home hamlet that boasts two churches, a community hall, a play park, a lube service for farm equipment, and tulip lady, whose yard is somewhat messy but looks like a festival every spring.

A mile to west is Elma, a hamlet that boasts a dozen houses and a truck.

We live in a nameless hamlet half-way between, but we do overlook Elma Public School, which must have immigrated during a slowdown in Elma economy (the truck driver went on vacation!).

Think I'm making this up because this is a humor column and I'm supposed to stretch truth to make it sound funny? Not this time. But wait – reality gets even funnier.