Clean sweep

Posted on by
1

The 12 days of Christmas ended a week ago today. I figure that means it is certainly time to pack ornaments and decorations and get the tree out of the living room. Holiday cheer was beginning to feel like a house guest who had overstayed his welcome.

While my daughter was at my parents’ house, I filled six bins with stockings, table runners, lights and much more. Packing, cleaning and rearranging furniture took most of the day.

I thought I would be sad to see Christmas and its tree go. Nothing like that cozy glow of holiday lights to warm both room and heart. Yet I was reminded of all the space I would gain when I put the tree out.

So I sent it packing. Goodbye, visiting tree, until next year when I will welcome your return.

Diane Breaks a Rule

Posted on by
1

Today I violated what I have long considered to be a cardinal rule: I bought cheap shoes. Boots, actually, which is even worse. Boots are an investment piece.

As long as I can remember, I have had this thing about shoes. I think it’s based on some Miss Diana Vreeland-based rule that one must wear expensive shoes and carry an expensive bag (it’s a cousin to the no white shoes after Labor Day rule).

Why Diana Vreeland’s opinion matters so much to me, I’m not certain. She was a strong, creative and outspoken woman – and I like that in a person. She wrote a classic autobiography and I like that, too. But I don’t live in Miss DV’s world. Anyway, I know that any of my “expensive” shoes would probably still seem cheap to her. It’s not like the shoes I buy are featured in Vogue (although in DV’s defense, she may have said to buy the most expensive shoes one could afford – but then she would also have been likely to be supportive of starving for fashion).

There’s definitely a part of me that understands starving for fashion’s sake. Then there’s the other part of me that gets excited about chickens and edible perennials. I think the chickens win out.

Methinks she is over-pondering the boots – but I’m thinking the cheap boots are a representation of a more mature lifestyle. Mature here means smart and responsible – not crow’s feet and a crepey neck. In the past I have justified these “investment pieces” by saying how long they will last me. For example, the last pair of boots I bought cost a few hundred dollars. But I bought them many years ago – maybe 10. I wore them a lot, they worked with pants and dresses, as work or casual-wear. They were very useful and I certainly got my money’s worth out of them. They are just too high-heeled for me these days. But what if I bought a pair of cheap – but well-made – boots and still wore them for 10 years! Then I could get even more of my money’s worth out of them. This is a revelation to me. And a few hundred dollars I can count towards saving 30 large.

Here I am, rocking my cheap – but well-made – boots:

20120110-233020.jpg

If you are very nice, maybe in 10 years I will let you see them from the side.

Road trip: Smart option or crazy undertaking?

Posted on by
2

I am a traveler. I’ve even dabbled in travel writing. I’ve backpacked, couch-surfed, lived overseas (on two different continents), stayed in some rather expensive accommodations and slept on the dirt at the edge of a fading fire. Without question, my most meaningful travel experiences have happened when I’ve travelled as many locals do – cheaply.

I think when I’m traveling with limited resources I’m freed to be open to all experiences. Whether that experience is of stormy seas on a four-hour ferry ride or a simple plate of food straight from a market stall. Money can provide better bathrooms, but it can also homogenize a place to the point where relying on it can get in the way of an authentic travel experience.

So given this history, imagine my shock when my DH (Dear Husband) made a proposal that made me challenge my self-image . . .

DH and I had planned on visiting family in South Texas for New Year’s Eve. When we went to book airline tickets, we discovered prices were more than double what they had been a few years ago when we last made the same trip. This time around we also had to book three tickets rather than two, since Clara no longer flies for free.

We used all our online booking tricks and sites. Nothing. We waited. Prices didn’t budge. We could find nothing in the reasonable range. And that is when it happened. DH suggested we drive to Texas. Trade wings for wheels. See more. Pay less. Take a three-year-old girl more than 1,000 miles within 16 hours to reach Austin, and another four or so to a South Texas ranch?

Now, I hate to admit this, that I, the great adventurer, balked at the idea. My first thoughts focused on the possible negatives: three-year-old, more time to be spent in car then on the ground. Three-year-old. We could be saddle sore before we even reached our destination. It seemed motherhood had nearly knocked the spirit of exploration out of me.

To complete such a Gainesville – South Texas round trip in eight days sounded like madness to me. But to pay all that money for airfare and a short three days at our final destination didn’t seem so wise either.

Road trip: Smart option or crazy undertaking?

Turns out – smart. The price of our eight days on the road was cheaper than the cost of three days, three plane tickets and a rental car would have been. And, as I realized while the miles rolled away beneath me, more days of traveling fun were actually priceless. We really experienced the trip. Okay, not at the wagon train level, but still we were in contact with the ground we were passing through. Clara learned about geography, at least the existence of a few states. She had a blast, and the family had uninterrupted bonding time with no fights or tantrums.

But what really sold me, reignited my zest for the open road, and sideswiped my fears was New Orleans. The Big Easy is right smack in the middle of the 16-hour stretch to Austin, making it a perfect spot for the first day’s layover.

Beignets!!

Okay, so as it turned out, no beignets. The line was too long for Café du Monde’s famous fried dough. Instead, we indulged in both raw and fried oysters, fried shrimp and some good beer at the Bourbon House; and late breakfast massive omelets at Camellia Grill’s bar counter in the French Quarter the next morning. All the while we were actually saving money verses flying.

When not eating we spent our time wandering the streets around Jackson Square. Always festive, the French Quarter’s residents had draped over-the-top Christmas decorations from their balconies and dangled them under eves.

The rest of the trip, our day and night in Austin, and even the time spent playing games and singing in the car, all affirmed we’d made the right call. Did I mention that packing a car (station wagon in this case) is a lot easier than packing for air travel? When in doubt, throw it in!

As with any successful road trip, ours was fun because we enjoyed the travel. Being at the ranch for our New Year’s celebration was the exclamation point to a special journey, rather than our only experience. Most travel these days is focused on getting there. Being there. On this 2,400-mile drive, we were there from the minute we left our driveway. 

 

The Road Taken

Posted on by
Reply

Today I did not write a summary judgment motion. I did not teach a college course. I did not give calm and kind counsel to ten women taking their first steps to extricate themselves from domestic violence.

What I did today was: make pomegranate jelly. It took the better part of the day – the most productive part of the day. And really, I should include the time to juice those suckers – so two hours of a previous day gets added in as well. And what I have to show for it is: 8 jars of jelly. It’s fairly tasty and the product of our backyard tree – genuine product of Nerdhaven Farms. But still . . . is this all there is?
20120106-225750.jpg

As I was . . . jelling (i.e., stirring, jell testing, failing jell test, stirring, repeat until loco), I thought of a friend of mine – a law school classmate. He was loving his work as a litigator, even starting his own firm. We had an ongoing conversation about work/life balance. Him having, um, none; and me desperately seeking more – litigation and marriage/parenting being diametrically opposing missions.

I remember him saying how it made no sense for him to do housework, cooking, errands, or whatever, because his time was better spent working, where he earned money to pay people to do those things for him and still came out with a sizable profit. I was repulsed when I tried to imagine living my life that way. I felt he was paying someone to live his life for him.

I wanted to be involved in my whole life – like putting my own damn laundry away. At least I would know where my clothes were and I wouldn’t put my sweater – the favorite one that my husband brought me back from Iceland – in the dryer (have I had experiences with house cleaners? Yes.) I wanted to approach my life from a participant’s standpoint, not from a supervisor’s standpoint. No surprise then that I left that firm and took a few years of Mom-time with my then toddler.

Now several years later, I chose the Mom road again and I am very pleased about it. I know what stuff I have and where it is (for the most part) and how to clean it. That’s not to say I don’t look back: let’s take a moment to acknowledge this housewife business can be totally tedious. But as I think about it, there is very little more tedious (sometimes) than lawyering.

What I am glad about now is I am dealing with the simple, daily consequences of my family’s life. We wear clothes. I wash them. We make messes. I clean them. We own things. I take care of them. We (well, one of us) eats a PBJ almost daily. I make pomegranate jelly. And, because I am my own damn supervisor, I also make chocolate chip cookies just cuz I feel like it:

20120106-225657.jpg

Power to the People

Posted on by
1

As we begin 2012, the Occupy Wall Street protests continue across the country, Greece and the rest of the EU teeter on the brink of something precipitous, and news outlets broadcast every sigh and gasp of various global stock exchanges, I, Denise, will attempt do something nearly as life changing for our family – begin to tame the household finances. Because, while the world around me seems to be, well, (depending on whether I’m in a half-full or half-empty mood), reforming or collapsing, our household budget is one bucking bronco I can control. With will, focus, a firm grip on the rope and, above all, balance, I can and will direct this family toward debt-free prosperity.

I should say that I have not always been in this relatively privileged position. In my previous life as a single person and owner of a small business start-up, I was once so broke that I was moonlighting as a waitress and even had to borrow money from my sister to cover my mortgage one dire month. Credit card debt piled up faster than discarded wrapping paper on Christmas morning.

As a single person I could scrimp and cut costs to nothing. Eat air and water. Now, married with a family the responsibilities are different. My husband and I agree we need to plan ahead. We have the power to do this. With the Warren book, we have a sensible guide that is designed to help “the little guy” like us make our way through a frenzied financial field that is not necessarily level.

We at NerdHaven Farms South have a few positives on our side: My husband, the breadwinner, is a tenured professor. Until the government does away with the tenure system (which could be soon), he has job security. (Buddha knows security is an illusion, but I want to help bolster any here-and-now “security” we appear to have with the application of moderation.)

Also in our favor is our location. North Florida has a relatively low cost of living as compared to say, Los Angeles. Our farmer’s market veggies are cheaper, our restaurants much less expensive (if also less varied and less bleeping* amazing). Entertainment costs are pennies on the dollar to LA’s.

Working against us is our age at the onset of this true experiment. My husband and I are in our 40s, leaving us precious little time to save for retirement, pay off mortgages and student loans, let alone save for our daughter’s education. Late bloomers are we, which is one reason why we have a (fabulous) three-year-old daughter, Clara, otherwise known as She-Who-Will-Have-Increasingly More-Expensive-Needs. I thought the cost of those biodegradable diapers was high – bring on the swim, ballet and gymnastic classes, etc. Phew. I can feel college looming on the horizon.

To survive it, my husband and I agree we must get our house in order now. I’m nearly finished reading All Your Worth. From it I have gleaned Warren’s plan to balance our budget. While I can’t go into specifics yet, from the book I have learned creating a budget is, contrary to what many of us have heard our entire lives, not about penny-pinching, rather it is about balance. Innocuous, powerful, central — balance. So for the next few days I’m going to crunch numbers until I can uncover how much we spend on each of Warren’s three categories: needs, wants and savings. Then I’m going to make a plan to make sure we spend no more than 50 percent of our after tax income on needs, 30 percent or less on wants, and 20 percent (which includes paying down debt) on savings. Wish me luck analyzing our budget. I will report back soon.