Coupons

I've always known I wanted to be a mother and a wife. There was never a doubt in my mind. As a young girl I embraced all things domestic. I remember convincing my brother it would be fun to clean and organize the laundry room for Mom one afternoon. I was eight. My brother was five. It would be a few more years before my brother wasn't such an easy sale, and I had to play "house-dork" alone.

I assumed I'd have two children, probably because that's what my family looked like. My childhood friend, Samantha Kelly, and I concluded that all little girls had a tiny baby in their stomachs, and when we grew-up, the baby would be ready to crawl out our belly buttons and join us in life. I don't recall which one of us initiated that theory or how we explained the arrival of subsequent children.

When I learned the truth, like many young girls, I was mortified. I decided I would get married, do what needed to be done to have two children, but only if I was completely sedated both times I had to do it.  [Funny. I have three children so I actually did it three times.]

Whether it was a college dorm room or an apartment, I liked my environment to be fresh, homey and organized. My roommate, Em, allowed me to grocery shop for us and knew I didn't mind cleaning and cooking. Some of it was my need to be in control and do things "right", but I also enjoyed it.

When Chris and I were first married, going to the grocery store was one of my favorite weekly chores. The Sunday paper was worth it's weight in gold because of all the coupons. I'm an ROI kind of gal, so the money I saved with coupons more than paid for our newspaper subscription.

I cut coupons, organized them by category and date, and used them faithfully. Basha's, a grocery story near our first apartment that I knew so well I was able to make my shopping list in the order of the aisles [some call it OCD, I call it efficiency], had a Bargain Booster program similar to the S&H Green Stamp program I grew up watching my mother participate in. When I noticed someone manhandling their stamps, I politely asked if I could have them. Some days, with a combination of coupons and filled Bargain Booster cards, I was practically paid to purchase an item.

Because money was tight, I often shopped on Thursday nights after work. Friday was payday, and twenty years ago, floating checks really worked. No instant electronic transfer, thankfully. 

Once or twice a month I treated myself to a magazine like Glamour or Allure, justifying the purchase with all the money I'd saved using coupons. I read every word of every article and advertisement. Several times. It was decadent to me.

The simple things in life truly made me happy.

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Sunday afternoon, as I schlepped around parking lots with dirty slush from melting snow and carts not placed in the cart returns, trying to find more room in the back of my car to unload yet another stop's purchases...I felt tired and burdened. Costco, the grocery store, PetSmart...then home to cook dinner. All after sledding with Chris and the boys earlier in the day. Chris had been out of town the week prior. We were all tired.

I don't cut coupons anymore. The payoff hasn't been worth the time it takes to sift through them...at least for grocery items. Occasionally I'll find coupons for a children's museum, a haircut, or other service. I like those.

I'm not as organized as I used to be. Or clean. 

In spite of the busy days, complicated schedules and routines, heavier housework, fatigue, and the words "wash me" on the back window of my car in one of my son's unmistakable handwriting, I have to remind myself to remember...this is what I've always wanted.

It's good, sincerely, but I'm not going to be sedated for a fourth time...unless Chris has a coupon.

Sun, Sun, Sun, Here It Comes...

Twenty ten has a nice ring to it. I've heard several people say, "This is MY year! Good things are going to happen in twenty ten!" The number is attractive to look at...2010...it rolls off the tongue...it's hopeful and happy like a sunny day.

I've had a hard time jumping into the new year. A mire of thoughts, goals and disappointments have temporarily bound me. But...Here comes the sun. Doot 'n doo doo. Here comes the sun. And I say...it's all right...

I'm choosing to focus on two very important "Ef" words this year.

[Photo courtesy of Google Images.]

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FRUGALITY

My grandmother died August 20, 2009. I continue to miss her. I periodically watch video just to hear her voice and experience her as fully as I can. There weren't many things left after Mamaw died. She had a desk and some bedroom furniture that fit nicely in her room at the assisted living facility. My dad said I was welcome to it.

The furniture wasn't valuable, but it was solid. I don't know the history behind the desk, other than she'd always had it. The bedroom furniture was purchased in 1939, the year my grandparents were married. They weren't rich people, but they had enough money to replace furniture if they needed to. Their belief: If something was functional and well-maintained, why would a person spend money to replace it? Wasteful!  Mamaw painted furniture, rearranged it, sewed curtains out of sheets, made new covers for throw pillows, and her home always looked up-to-date, pretty and clean. Papaw transplanted bushes, borrowed starts from neighbor's perennials and their landscapes were lovely.

Chris and I aren't flashy spenders and I don't think we're blatantly wasteful, but I wouldn't want the "Green Police" raiding our home and surveilling our spending habits.

A portion of "frugality" defined per Wikipedia:

Common strategies of frugality include the reduction of waste curbing costly habits, suppressing instant gratification by means of fiscal self-restraint, seeking efficiency, avoiding traps, defying expensive social norms, embracing cost-free options, using barter, and staying well-informed about local circumstances and both market and product/service realities.

We're not striving to be spokespeople for frugal living, but we both want to simplify without losing the spirit of generosity or the joy of occasional self-indulgence. We want to do better.

FRIENDSHIP

Relationships have been a big topic for me over the past few years. My desire to connect with people from my past, the confusion and disappointment I've experienced when someone has rejected me, the expectations I have of my family and friends, and the sadness and anger I feel as I try to understand that many people don't share my eagerness, or even worse...my memories. I assume I've made a person or two feel the same way, and if they were to ever reveal themselves to me, I would sincerely and humbly apologize and search for the memories that were important to them. If nothing else, I would listen and be thankful that I was a part of someone's recall...their personal tapestry.

My mother is in her 60s and has lost some dear friends over the past ten years. Until recently, I never really thought about how that would feel. I take for granted that T, Amy, Em and others will always be there when I call. I don't want to have regrets. 

Chris and the boys are my natural priority in life. This goes without saying for any partner or parent.  But the importance and value of friends...including the friends we're related to [my brother, my grandmother, my mother], and the friendships from our past, are at risk of slipping away due to busy, over-scheduled lives. There are new friendships waiting to be nurtured and discovered, and I sincerely want and need to tend to some of them.

I've learned the hard way [jumping in too fast, revealing too much too soon] that the kinds of friendships that are worthy of the following two quotes are rare [which is unfortunate, really], often take years to develop and/or fall into the category of crossing paths with a kindred spirit.

A friend is a person with whom I may be sincere. Before him, I may think aloud.

    - Ralph Waldo Emerson, in "Friendship" in Essays, First series (1841)

Your friend is your needs answered. He is your field which you sow with
love and reap with thanksgiving. And he is your board and your
fireside. For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for
peace.

    - Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet, 1923

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Twenty ten is here in all it's sunshiny glory. I'm finally ready to embrace it with a few personal goals, and intentions of improving frugality and friendships, inspired by a person who modeled both words for me, and managed to do so while smiling—displaying hope and happiness. [I'm blowing you a kiss, Mamaw.] 

I know she would sing this with me.

The Moose And The Fireman

The moose in the neighbor's yard this morning was a bit exciting and entertaining, I have to admit. I oohed and gasped and watched his every move...for TWO hours. I know. Get. A. Life. But, this IS my life, people.

I contemplated writing a lengthy story about the moose, chronicling every riveting detail of his arrival, the police surveillance, the gathering of neighbors, children and strangers in a kind woman's master bedroom and bathroom so we could all get a closer look, and the eventual tranquilization and removal of the large animal. But, after viewing the STUPID number of photographs I took and the nearly FIFTY minutes of Flip video, it's just not that riveting anymore.

Here's a quick photo recap...The moose! [I was outside on the sidewalk for this picture.]

 

The moose stared at us staring at him through the window. We all looked at each other for a very long time.  It was like being at the zoo. Like I said, riveting.

[Photo taken while in my neighbor's bedroom with several other people.]

 

Once the moose was tranquilized [a shooter hit him and the drug took effect exceptionally fast], they had to slide him onto a tarp so he could be transported across the snow to a trailer. 

 

Notice the cameraman from a local news station walking backwards as he films.

 

The sedated moose resting in the trailer. He was feeling no pain.

 

I wasn't going to blog about this, because...you know...boring. But in the final five minutes of the moose ordeal, a young fireman made my day with two surprisingly witty comments.

Witty Number One

As the curious, worried and adrenalin-fueled neighbor children gathered around the moose while it lay in the trailer, the helpful, young fireman cleared his throat and spoke to them...Now remember, kids. THIS is why we DON'T play with matches.

Witty Number Two

I took some final photos and noticed the moose was trembling. Oh, poor thing. He's shaking. The helpful, young fireman looked at me and said, "That's a goood shake. It's morphine."