Friday, January 29, 2010 by Hodding.

I finally got that damned pot clean–well, almost.  There’s still some rough, tenacious residue but considering the enamel on those much-vaunted Le Creuset pots and pans isn’t as durable as their price warrants, I’ve given up.   In other words, about a decade ago, I ruined one of those $200 pots by believing the hype.  It’d been a wedding present from my first, failed marriage so in a way, it was only fitting that it failed so miserably.

I’ve decided to start posting again for three reasons: 1)I missed it and more importantly, I missed the connection to my readers.  You guys were so supportive and involved and helpful.Of course, I’ve probably lost all of you during the hiatus but at least for a while I’ll be able to pretend you’re still out there. 2) Taking a break from blogging did NOT get me farther along with my book.  In fact, I sort of went backwards, deleting much of what I’d already written and replacing it with 20,000 words that I then deleted yesterday. 3) It turns out this blog was keeping me honest–providing a center from which I had the confidence and drive to keep on frugalin’.  Yes, since I no longer had the pressure to come up with yet another creative way to save money, I lost my way: Counting restaurant and store-made pizza, we’ve eaten out SEVEN times since my last post.  We’ve gone to the movies three times–and even bought popcorn and candy at the theater!  And we’ve used credit cards to buy groceries and presents.

I failed you all.

However, if America is the land of one thing above all others–above the land of freedom, the home of democracy, capitalist aggression, and even the American Dream–it is the land of second chances (Admittedly, I’m not the first to recognize this trait.  In his 2004 State of the Union Address, President L.G. (Little George) Bush told us that this is the “land of the second chance.”  While I don’t often find myself seeing eye-to-eye with the former president, he’s the perfect living testament to this statement’s veracity.) Not only does our society provide ample opportunities for second chances, but this provision, this empowering kick-in-the-pants, is the essence of all the good that we offer ourselves and the world.  At least, that’s the way George and I see things.

So, I’ve done it before and I see no reason to do otherwise now; I am going to take her up on the offer and begin again.

We will eat out no more forever.*

To be perfectly honest, though, that’s not entirely true, having learned a thing or two from recent experiences.  It’s time to strike a balance between some of our more extreme behavior of the past 16 months and our old spendthrift, unsustainable ways.   We will eat out again but infrequently–and only if we pay in cash and stay within our monthly budget.  Before we made an about-face in life and slashed our spending to next to nothing, dining out had become a humdrum, every-other-day affair (on average, Americans eat out roughly 4 times a week, when you include outings like grabbing a slice of pizza or a coffee/muffin combo ), not surprising considering it was more knee-jerk fallback than a planned, special event.

The inescapable feelings of delight and excitement we experienced during those first two meals in a restaurant were a wonderful surprise.  The kids behaved beyond our wildest dreams, every bite was divine (even the chewy calamari–inexcusable since any good cook should know that as long as you keep the cooking time under three minutes or over twenty, you’ll always have tender squid), and we held actual conversations: If there were a Star Wars VII, would Princess Lea learn to use the Force and would she and Hans Solo get married?  And, if Luke had kids, would one fall to the Dark Side and the other the Good?  By restaurant excursion number-seven, however, all had reverted to experiences similar to when our Dark Side reigned: the food was boring, the girls picked on each other while Angus cried and refused to eat, Lisa left the table (and the restaurant) to take care of some work, and VISA wouldn’t accept the charges (I still cringe when I picture Anabel’s face turning red with shame; luckily I had a check).

I’m not surprised that we so easily slipped into our former behavior.  Christmas has always been our weak point and using the eating-out as an excuse to cut loose, Lisa and I gladly overdid things.   Then, shopping over the last few weeks for both Anabel and Eliza’s 14th birthday and Angus’s 7th, which fall at the end of January, we felt we had to match the fervor of Christmas.  Right?

Like I said, though: no more.  Herewith, we return to the ranks of the Frugalista Revolution.  Long live Penny Pinching!

The astute reader, I hope, will at this point ask the obvious question: why?  It’s not because we’re broke.  That’s old hat and something we’ve grown accustomed to.  And it’s not because we overcharged on that credit card I mentioned earlier.  Being such reliable, long-term borrowers, we have credit cards coming out our behinds.

The reasons, actually, are quite simple.  We felt better about ourselves, and what we were teaching our children, when we spent only within our budget.  We missed the purpose that living so carefully brought to our every-day-lives.  Although we’re used to being broke, we do need to keep chipping away at our debt or we’ll lose our home.  And, mainly–the real reason, in fact–is because our Generation iApple-Everything offspring wanted us to.

PS–Some of you didn’t realize that I intentionally misspelled a number of words in my last post in a lame attempt to poke fun at both myself and my cyberspace editors.   Therefore, I spell-checked today’s offering.

*What famous Native American warrior am I borrowing from?

Posted in Frugal Dining, George Bush, Second Chances, Frugal writing, Extreme Frugality | 23 Comments »

Wednesday, December 9, 2009 by Hodding.

I wrote the following before I wrote yesterday’s short update:

I apologize–again, I think.  No, not for the typo’s.  I sort fo like those (yes, that was intentional but not so witty).  No, I’m apologizing again for not writing.  Truthfully, I can’t write every week–duh!–and don’t want any of you to think I’ll be doing so.  I’m trying to get a book finished (it’s due in January–did I already use this excuse?) and feel guilty even when using the bathroom, let alone writing something that is NOT my contracted book.  The book, however, is about being frugal, specifically my family’s fledgling attempts at being more like the Waltons and less like the Jetsons, and will be filled with recipes, anecdotes, facts, excitement, love, sadness and more.  It’ll be better than a blog.  Promise!  So, this will probably be my last posting for a while.

Let me rephrase that, more firmly: I WILL NOT BLOG AGAIN UNTIL MY BOOK IS DONE–but please come back at the beginning of February, ok?

Meanwhile, here’s a tip:

Don’t ever, ever leave a pot of apple chunks on a lit stove unattended for hours at a time when attempting to make applesauce, even if you have it set on medium.  Or even 1 hour at a time.  Or maybe even 30 minutes.  I’m not sure.  All I do know is that I presently have not 1, not 2 but 3 (THREE) of our largest pots sitting around useless with a few inches of old soaking water in them–hoping that by some miracle the scorched, blackened apple-residue will miraculously disappear.  You’d think I would’ve learned from the first pot, right?  Well, I filled the second with about 50 or so apples, just like I’d done with the first, and then put in twice as much water as the first time, 2-3 cups this time, roughly. It still didn’t do the trick and to this very morning I’m trying to get the pot clean.  The same thing happened the third time but at least all three failures are ample evidence that I’ve been working hard on my manuscript.  You know, I was madly typing away between applesauce stirrings and all that.

Except I wasn’t.  Each time, I was doing one of those projects that always beckons to me at inappropriate times, like when I should be watching my pot of soon-to-be applesauce or typing away at my computer keyboard.  The first time I was cleaning out the muck in the hen house.  Yes, it’s supposed to be the kids’ job, but it was the day before Thanksgiving and friends were coming over, not for dinner but to take care of our “farm” while we were away.  I couldn’t very well let them see how we really keep things, could I?  The second time I was out getting the previously mentioned black gold.   I still can’t get over that stuff, by the way, and there’s plenty more.   And the third time I ruined a pot (one of those fancy French enameled things, even) I have no earthly idea what I was doing–maybe marveling at our winter-mix lettuce.

Yes, you read correctly and that’s no tyop–for once.  We have mesclun, baby romaine and other edible greens, and it’s December in Maine. The salvaged French doors did the trick.  It really was the coolest thing yesterday morning when I had to brush the snow off the glass and then open the hinged door and then pluck enough salad for our entire family.  Yes, I really did scream out loud.  Danced a little jig. Etc.  It’s so great when these thrifty things pay off–even when we’re not being as perfectly miserly as before.

I’m admitting to some unfrugal Christmas shopping.  We made all kinds of low-cost presents for friends and family-that-are-not-our-kids.  HodsMead Batch #3, spruced up with many apples tossed in when boiling the must, is superb, if I say so myself.  Lisa jarred about a dozen crab-apple jellies and just as many crab-apple butters.  Between those two items and others that are not coming to mind, we’ve got more gifts to give away than many of our non-frugal years combined.  I’ve also vowed only to buy Lisa 1 present (it’ll be cheap, promise)–the rest of her gifts are homemade.  When it came to the kids, however, we got them a few things we couldn’t even think about buying the last 18 months or so.  We didn’t go Paris-Hilton wild but we did spend a bit more than planned (we’ll make up for it in January).  And, of course, there’s no telling what Santa might do.

There are so many things that we’ve been doing this past month I wish I had time to write about.  My favorite was collecting apples with our Reverse Johnny Appleseed friends.  They’re sort of reverse because instead of going around planting apple seeds, they knock on neighbors’, strangers’ and friends’ doors asking if they can pick their unharvested apples.  I do this on occasion myself but never to the extent that these two do it.  The day I spent picking with them we filled (literally) the entire back 2/3 of their 1990’s wagon.  A few days later, Lisa and the kids helped wash, cut and press these apple and more into cider.  They gave away dozens of gallons and our family still came home with 25 for ourselves.  Luckily we have a huge frezer.  I was off at an all-day meeting but everyone had a blast.  We’re trying only to drink a gallon every other week.  So far, we’ve failed miserably and are averaging a gallon every 10 days.  Even so, at that rate we’ll be drinking pure, unadulterated cider well into the spring.  For Free–except for the cost of running the freezer!

That’s it for now.  Sorry it wasn’t much of an entry.

I will return.

Posted in Frugal writing, Homemade cider, Frugal presents | 9 Comments »