An inspiring article showed up on “In the Trenches” last week, and it got me thinking. We often beat ourselves up over lost opportunities or analyzing decisions to death. What 20 things can I do to make life better? With what I have on hand at this very moment?
1 Lose two pounds to start
2 Have a yard sale
3 Paint our bedroom closet
4 Re-veneer my desk top
5 Sand and paint our folding chairs
6 Repaint our bathroom a better color
7 Try a new recipe for bread
8 Finish Isaac’s quilt
9 Put the back on Ron’s needlepoint pillow
10 Start saving for a visit to Italy
11 Listen to music
12 Study my Italian CD’s
13 Do one thing each day just because it’s fun
14 Wake up to see a sunrise
15 Give the kids hugs
16 Give Art hugs
17 Memorize one really good Bible section
18 Throw pennies from the coin jar onto the sidewalk, and watch who picks them up
19 Soak in the tub with bubbles for an hour
20 Write a real letter to a friend
Friday, August 27, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Too Much Stuff
Reduce the complexity of life by eliminating the needless wants of life, and the labors of life reduce themselves.
- Edwin Way Teale
Having stuff is like having a cat. You think you own it, but it actually owns you. It’s amazing how much you accumulate over time. I’m convinced it breeds secretly in dark corners. Hence the phrase, “Where did this come from?”
Right now our living room is slowly losing that “disaster area” feel as I price things for next week’s yard sale and stash them in the garage. It should be a doozey. At least five neighbors are participating at their respective homes. We hope to have a really good turnout. The Foxes are no slouches either. Isaac went though another growth spurt and we’re trying to cut our losses on the clothes front. Then there’s furniture, books, and many items from my abortive attempt at the antiques and collectable business a couple years back.
Just where are those Life Laundry people when you need them?
Maybe we should follow Mom’s suggestion (she didn’t, by the way), to move every two years.
- Edwin Way Teale
Having stuff is like having a cat. You think you own it, but it actually owns you. It’s amazing how much you accumulate over time. I’m convinced it breeds secretly in dark corners. Hence the phrase, “Where did this come from?”
Right now our living room is slowly losing that “disaster area” feel as I price things for next week’s yard sale and stash them in the garage. It should be a doozey. At least five neighbors are participating at their respective homes. We hope to have a really good turnout. The Foxes are no slouches either. Isaac went though another growth spurt and we’re trying to cut our losses on the clothes front. Then there’s furniture, books, and many items from my abortive attempt at the antiques and collectable business a couple years back.
Just where are those Life Laundry people when you need them?
Maybe we should follow Mom’s suggestion (she didn’t, by the way), to move every two years.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Six Ways to Trick Yourself Into Saving
You don’t need smoke and mirrors to stash cash, you can do it. Just go for it.
Take the saying, “pay yourself first” to heart. What about an automatic deduction from your paycheck? Or put that bit of cash away in an account somewhere or under the mattress even, and plan your budget apart from it. You’ll never notice it’s missing.
Tuck away oddball business extras. You know, bonuses, overtime pay, tips, and put them in a different place. If it helps, buy a CD to keep yourself from temptation.
Live on last year’s earnings. Just pretend that inflation adjustment never came through. Don’t hyperventilate, you will be able to manage. Your savings will thank you.
Don’t laugh about this one, but do you remember keeping a penny jar in your room? Just dump each day's change into a clear sided jar and literally watch your savings grow.
Cash in your trash. If your state has a system for redeeming bottles and cans, go for it. If not, look into recycling centers near you. Aluminum cans in our area bring in a decent return.
Money making ventures like yard sales, credit card cash backs, rebates, and survey cash rewards add up. As soon as they come in hand, put them aside. Slow and steady wins the race on this one.
See, you’re that much richer, and it didn’t even hurt.
Take the saying, “pay yourself first” to heart. What about an automatic deduction from your paycheck? Or put that bit of cash away in an account somewhere or under the mattress even, and plan your budget apart from it. You’ll never notice it’s missing.
Tuck away oddball business extras. You know, bonuses, overtime pay, tips, and put them in a different place. If it helps, buy a CD to keep yourself from temptation.
Live on last year’s earnings. Just pretend that inflation adjustment never came through. Don’t hyperventilate, you will be able to manage. Your savings will thank you.
Don’t laugh about this one, but do you remember keeping a penny jar in your room? Just dump each day's change into a clear sided jar and literally watch your savings grow.
Cash in your trash. If your state has a system for redeeming bottles and cans, go for it. If not, look into recycling centers near you. Aluminum cans in our area bring in a decent return.
Money making ventures like yard sales, credit card cash backs, rebates, and survey cash rewards add up. As soon as they come in hand, put them aside. Slow and steady wins the race on this one.
See, you’re that much richer, and it didn’t even hurt.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Too Frugal
At what point does frugality become a moral issue? When is the line drawn by cultural norms, instead of actual “wrongness” or “rightness”?
I just had a rather interesting back and forth with a PF blogger. He thought cutting a dryer sheet in two or putting two good nylon legs from two pairs together when the other legs got runners to save money was "too frugal". I draw the line at “thou shalt not steal” This command actually covers a broad range, from doing your neighbor’s finances good, to seeking to better your own.
So if I ask for free samples only to receive something free, with no intention to consider purchase, that is harming my neighbor’s finances. If I put money in the bank to gain interest or use it to start a business or get an education, that is seeking my own financial benefit, but is not wrong.
Another is “thou shalt not murder” Any practice that shortens life, or decreases health is eliminated. So avoiding the dentist for 20 years or eating only jelly sandwiches to save money when you have the means, is out.
Current gray areas include dumpster diving, trash picking, gathering aluminum cans off the street. In these cases the command to “honor your mother and father” comes into play. It includes the rights of authorities to enact laws. So if a dumpster has a “keep out” sign, it’s locked, it’s on private property, or the local laws prohibit it, then don’t dive. In the realm of “equals” these practices become issues, if they cause a brother to stumble, encouraging him to sin against conscience. In those cases, don’t tell him, or do it in front of him.
To withhold what is due God is a moral issue. You shall have no other gods before Me. If in order to save money I don’t pay the tithe, that reveals a heart attitude. I am worshiping mammon and not God.
There’s a different set of constraints and freedoms if God’s law is used as a moral basis for frugality. A greater freedom to pick mulberries from a tree in a field to munch on, or take a needed chair from a pile on trash day.
One point. We may be able to say definitively something is morally wrong (any form of stealing or coveting) but there's a whole range of preferences. I know someone that "never bought anything at a yard sale" and never would. But if another mom didn't buy stuff at a yard sales/thrift shops her family would go without the basics. The one lady has the means to decide either way. The other doesn’t. This becomes an issue when it causes a brother to stumble, when we look down on the “poor” man as a moral failure or look up to the “rich” one as somehow morally superior. If someone wants to halve their dryer sheets or double up on nylons, why do I think it odd? We shouldn't make distinctions where Christ hasn't. And if we are aware of a situation, don't we have a greater obligation to share with those in need?
I just had a rather interesting back and forth with a PF blogger. He thought cutting a dryer sheet in two or putting two good nylon legs from two pairs together when the other legs got runners to save money was "too frugal". I draw the line at “thou shalt not steal” This command actually covers a broad range, from doing your neighbor’s finances good, to seeking to better your own.
So if I ask for free samples only to receive something free, with no intention to consider purchase, that is harming my neighbor’s finances. If I put money in the bank to gain interest or use it to start a business or get an education, that is seeking my own financial benefit, but is not wrong.
Another is “thou shalt not murder” Any practice that shortens life, or decreases health is eliminated. So avoiding the dentist for 20 years or eating only jelly sandwiches to save money when you have the means, is out.
Current gray areas include dumpster diving, trash picking, gathering aluminum cans off the street. In these cases the command to “honor your mother and father” comes into play. It includes the rights of authorities to enact laws. So if a dumpster has a “keep out” sign, it’s locked, it’s on private property, or the local laws prohibit it, then don’t dive. In the realm of “equals” these practices become issues, if they cause a brother to stumble, encouraging him to sin against conscience. In those cases, don’t tell him, or do it in front of him.
To withhold what is due God is a moral issue. You shall have no other gods before Me. If in order to save money I don’t pay the tithe, that reveals a heart attitude. I am worshiping mammon and not God.
There’s a different set of constraints and freedoms if God’s law is used as a moral basis for frugality. A greater freedom to pick mulberries from a tree in a field to munch on, or take a needed chair from a pile on trash day.
One point. We may be able to say definitively something is morally wrong (any form of stealing or coveting) but there's a whole range of preferences. I know someone that "never bought anything at a yard sale" and never would. But if another mom didn't buy stuff at a yard sales/thrift shops her family would go without the basics. The one lady has the means to decide either way. The other doesn’t. This becomes an issue when it causes a brother to stumble, when we look down on the “poor” man as a moral failure or look up to the “rich” one as somehow morally superior. If someone wants to halve their dryer sheets or double up on nylons, why do I think it odd? We shouldn't make distinctions where Christ hasn't. And if we are aware of a situation, don't we have a greater obligation to share with those in need?
Friday, July 16, 2010
Mr. Sirotkin Showed Me How
During my stint in college I lived in a fifth floor walk up, with a bunch of equally yoked roomies, barely within the boundaries of the East Village. Our landlords were a dear older couple, Mr. and Mrs. Sirotkin.
By the time we came on the scene the building was inhabited mostly by college and career types. Mrs. Sirotkin called us “her kids”. Except for older families who had lived there forever, all of us came by referral. There was an almost sacred trust to your word in that. You didn’t want to give the Sirotkins a bum deal with lousy tenants. She wouldn’t interview you exactly, but checked you out by having you over for tea.
There Mrs. Sirotkin told her story. How as a girl of sixteen she worked at the dry cleaners on the first floor and how her older employer (he was in his twenties) started to court her. She was shy at first, but he was a kind and good man, so won her heart, and they married. When they got wind the building was about to be sold out from under them, he entered the purchasing process. He had never intended to own a building. But as a family man, he had a wife to care for. It was scary at first with an additional 23 families, and a mortgage to cover. But he learned. They worked together. She handled the books, he made repairs. It became painfully obvious they couldn’t do it all, so he sold the dry cleaning business, and jumped feet first into the challenge.
While their children were still young he had a massive stroke. She said, “I cried for fifteen minutes, pulled myself together and said ‘they all need me now, I can’t let myself go’.” She arrived at the hospital to bleak news. She nursed him at home while her mother cared for the children. To everyone’s amazement, he survived, though with a good deal of paralysis. When we knew him, he walked with a decided limp and had difficulty speaking.
We offered to paint the apartment for them when we first moved in, and after Mr. Sirotkin literally dragged himself up the five sets of stairs to replace a light switch, I asked if I could watch. I would do it next time. He obliged. That short interaction boosted my confidence to later replace light switches, sockets, ceiling lights, and even rewire lamps. But their example of teamwork, mutual respect, love, and perseverance in the face of obstacles, taught me even more. What a good marriage looked like.
By the time we came on the scene the building was inhabited mostly by college and career types. Mrs. Sirotkin called us “her kids”. Except for older families who had lived there forever, all of us came by referral. There was an almost sacred trust to your word in that. You didn’t want to give the Sirotkins a bum deal with lousy tenants. She wouldn’t interview you exactly, but checked you out by having you over for tea.
There Mrs. Sirotkin told her story. How as a girl of sixteen she worked at the dry cleaners on the first floor and how her older employer (he was in his twenties) started to court her. She was shy at first, but he was a kind and good man, so won her heart, and they married. When they got wind the building was about to be sold out from under them, he entered the purchasing process. He had never intended to own a building. But as a family man, he had a wife to care for. It was scary at first with an additional 23 families, and a mortgage to cover. But he learned. They worked together. She handled the books, he made repairs. It became painfully obvious they couldn’t do it all, so he sold the dry cleaning business, and jumped feet first into the challenge.
While their children were still young he had a massive stroke. She said, “I cried for fifteen minutes, pulled myself together and said ‘they all need me now, I can’t let myself go’.” She arrived at the hospital to bleak news. She nursed him at home while her mother cared for the children. To everyone’s amazement, he survived, though with a good deal of paralysis. When we knew him, he walked with a decided limp and had difficulty speaking.
We offered to paint the apartment for them when we first moved in, and after Mr. Sirotkin literally dragged himself up the five sets of stairs to replace a light switch, I asked if I could watch. I would do it next time. He obliged. That short interaction boosted my confidence to later replace light switches, sockets, ceiling lights, and even rewire lamps. But their example of teamwork, mutual respect, love, and perseverance in the face of obstacles, taught me even more. What a good marriage looked like.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Outside the Box
He was dubbed “The Wizard of Weston” and enjoyed the allusion to Thomas Edison, “The Wizard of Menlo Park”. Stanley Mason may not be a household name, but his inventions are. It seems we’ve always lived with granola bars, microwave cookware and dental floss dispensers.
Let’s take a peek into how his mind worked. It was 1949. “My wife asked me to put the diaper on the baby. I held up the cloth diaper, and it was square. I looked at the baby, and it was round. I knew there was an engineering problem.” What resulted was a form fitting disposable diaper.
Mason taught innovative thinking at the University of Connecticut. He felt corporations squashed creativity and was fired several times for his unconventional solutions. In spite of bureaucratic lethargy, many big organizations turned to him for new product ideas through his eight man think tank, Simco.
When his daughter’s dorm room was burgled, he designed a doorknob mounted alarm system. He collaborated with a toilet manufacturer, an expert in ceramics, to develop microwaveable cookware. He’s the guy who invented the stringless Band aid package, plastic dental floss, baby wipes, a sonic method for sealing chip bags, Depends, and hundreds of other things.
So what does all this have to do with frugality? It’s seeing the need and figuring a way to solve it with what you have. It’s our brother in law Dave, who coming up north to face car inspections for the first time, rigged small Christmas lights over the dashboard to illuminate it. (Dave also “grilled” cheese sandwiches on his dashboard during a drive to California, but we won’t go there.)
So what are your needs? When tackling them, remember the Wizard of Weston.
Let’s take a peek into how his mind worked. It was 1949. “My wife asked me to put the diaper on the baby. I held up the cloth diaper, and it was square. I looked at the baby, and it was round. I knew there was an engineering problem.” What resulted was a form fitting disposable diaper.
Mason taught innovative thinking at the University of Connecticut. He felt corporations squashed creativity and was fired several times for his unconventional solutions. In spite of bureaucratic lethargy, many big organizations turned to him for new product ideas through his eight man think tank, Simco.
When his daughter’s dorm room was burgled, he designed a doorknob mounted alarm system. He collaborated with a toilet manufacturer, an expert in ceramics, to develop microwaveable cookware. He’s the guy who invented the stringless Band aid package, plastic dental floss, baby wipes, a sonic method for sealing chip bags, Depends, and hundreds of other things.
So what does all this have to do with frugality? It’s seeing the need and figuring a way to solve it with what you have. It’s our brother in law Dave, who coming up north to face car inspections for the first time, rigged small Christmas lights over the dashboard to illuminate it. (Dave also “grilled” cheese sandwiches on his dashboard during a drive to California, but we won’t go there.)
So what are your needs? When tackling them, remember the Wizard of Weston.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Being Different
I went to a funeral Wednesday morning and felt strangely apart from everyone there. Almost like an alien observer from another planet. The lady had worked for a florist almost 30 years. I was struck by the fact all the ladies attending worked outside the home even when their kids were young.
Art and I talked during our afternoon walk about the assumption I’d get a job. Again it revolved around easing our finances a bit. He asked, “Is Christ pleased with you?” I thought I could use my time better. He said, “The people who expect it don’t take into consideration my schedule. I like to know that everything is in order at home. That I can trust you to take care of things.”
This quote has been rattling around as well, “Adversity has the effect of eliciting talents which, in prosperous circumstances, would have lain dormant.”- Horace (65-8 BC) Roman Poet. Isaac observed that same truth several years ago. He said, “being poor” made me more creative. I would never in a million years have attempted a garden, or taught my self to cook and can, rewire lamps, repair furniture, mend socks, quilt, cut hair, keep a written budget, write articles, unless we were in this situation. I might have considered foraging, if only for the romance of it, but not in earnest. Even my mom, married to a sculptor, attempted very few of these things. “Adversity” pushed me into scary places. Past the “plant killer” stage. Past early canning failures. Past indestructible pie crust. To make do in oddball ways, by using things for unintended purposes.
Being different is lonely though. What do you talk about when there’s assumed equity? “What’s your cell phone number?” “I told my hairdresser I wanted a different color.” “This place has the best crab cakes.” “Where are you going for vacation?” “You’d really like this (cable) TV program.” How do you untangle that kind of presuppositionalism? You can’t. I’m tempted sometimes to talk about cooking burdock roots, gathering places for mulberries and wild raspberries, trash picked finds. Just to throw a wrench in. But it’s sort of like the Far Side cartoon of a dog cocktail party. First frame. One dog says to another as everyone is chatting away. “The doctor says I have worms.” Second frame. Silence.
Being the introspective type, I have to consciously pull away from self pity. To change context. This is not my home. This will not last. It finally revolves around Art’s question. “Is Christ pleased?”
Art and I talked during our afternoon walk about the assumption I’d get a job. Again it revolved around easing our finances a bit. He asked, “Is Christ pleased with you?” I thought I could use my time better. He said, “The people who expect it don’t take into consideration my schedule. I like to know that everything is in order at home. That I can trust you to take care of things.”
This quote has been rattling around as well, “Adversity has the effect of eliciting talents which, in prosperous circumstances, would have lain dormant.”- Horace (65-8 BC) Roman Poet. Isaac observed that same truth several years ago. He said, “being poor” made me more creative. I would never in a million years have attempted a garden, or taught my self to cook and can, rewire lamps, repair furniture, mend socks, quilt, cut hair, keep a written budget, write articles, unless we were in this situation. I might have considered foraging, if only for the romance of it, but not in earnest. Even my mom, married to a sculptor, attempted very few of these things. “Adversity” pushed me into scary places. Past the “plant killer” stage. Past early canning failures. Past indestructible pie crust. To make do in oddball ways, by using things for unintended purposes.
Being different is lonely though. What do you talk about when there’s assumed equity? “What’s your cell phone number?” “I told my hairdresser I wanted a different color.” “This place has the best crab cakes.” “Where are you going for vacation?” “You’d really like this (cable) TV program.” How do you untangle that kind of presuppositionalism? You can’t. I’m tempted sometimes to talk about cooking burdock roots, gathering places for mulberries and wild raspberries, trash picked finds. Just to throw a wrench in. But it’s sort of like the Far Side cartoon of a dog cocktail party. First frame. One dog says to another as everyone is chatting away. “The doctor says I have worms.” Second frame. Silence.
Being the introspective type, I have to consciously pull away from self pity. To change context. This is not my home. This will not last. It finally revolves around Art’s question. “Is Christ pleased?”
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