Does everyone already know this? I only thought of this last summer.
Our first purchase in Paris (after some food, of course) will be BABY WIPES!
Carry a few in a ziplock to wipe your sweaty brow, the back of your neck, and--MY FAVORITE--your sweaty feet.
They are amazingly restorative.
And, from Mr FS, DUCT TAPE. This can be hard to find when you need it. This serves many purposes, of course. We are mainly taking it for SHOE EMERGENCIES. In Chicago many years ago, my sandals fell apart. Disaster! I didn't want to buy new shoes because I am a well-known cheapwad and hate emergency purchases. Besides, I have troublesome feet, so I can't buy just anything.
Eventually, we spied a store that stocked those cheap Chinese Mary Janes, which saved the day. Now I always carry extra emergency shoes on walks. But we also carry the beloved DUCT TAPE.
Mr FS wraps some around a pencil. What can I say? He is a genius.
Showing posts with label vacation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vacation. Show all posts
Monday, 29 June 2015
Friday, 3 October 2014
Tradesy, Ebay, Buffalo Exchange: Cash for Decluttering Report
So sad! Miss Em is back in Belgrade, for four months this time. While she was here, she spent a lot of time amassing items that were requested by friends. So much is unavailable there, or scarily expensive. Most US companies will not deliver to Serbia. Here's what she carried: a post-mastectomy bra and forms (unbelievable that these are not to be had there); melatonin, Opi nail polish, well, now I can't remember the other things. We live in such over-abundance.
I have lost my in-house beauty salon operator (thanks for the haircut) and--perhaps most needed--my personal declutter assistant.
Here are the final numbers for her 2 months back in the USA. She got to keep all the money (much-needed) and I got a little breathing space.
TRADESY: An astonishing $800!
Ebay: An astonishing $500plus, mostly for two Filson garments!
Buffalo Exchange: A pretty good $200.
Miss Em also picked up some cash by taking care of a kid for a weekend. She was able to spend the rest of her time planning for her return to Belgrade, getting her art website set up, and applying to a grad program.
If you want some glimpses of our trip to the Balkans, see her tumblr: she captured so much of what we did, especially some of the little moments that truly define a vacation.
I have lost my in-house beauty salon operator (thanks for the haircut) and--perhaps most needed--my personal declutter assistant.
Here are the final numbers for her 2 months back in the USA. She got to keep all the money (much-needed) and I got a little breathing space.
TRADESY: An astonishing $800!
Ebay: An astonishing $500plus, mostly for two Filson garments!
Buffalo Exchange: A pretty good $200.
Miss Em also picked up some cash by taking care of a kid for a weekend. She was able to spend the rest of her time planning for her return to Belgrade, getting her art website set up, and applying to a grad program.
If you want some glimpses of our trip to the Balkans, see her tumblr: she captured so much of what we did, especially some of the little moments that truly define a vacation.
Thursday, 7 August 2014
Remember my cookbook?
Back again from our final trip of the summer to the beautiful Berkshires where I reconnected with childhood places and happy memories of my now-gone relatives from Vienna. I continued some of the questioning I began in the Balkans and got more specifics on the dangerous journey undertaken by my grandparents, mother, and others as they escaped Vienna in the late 1930s. Truly, my very existence is a miracle.
I may depart from my blog's original purpose--to spread the gospel of frugality--and turn to more personal matters as I attempt to wrest information from the very few surviving relatives--who themselves remember very little and were greeted with silence about those terrible times.
For the moment though, I am back to frugality. After all, if we weren't frugal we couldn't go to the Balkans to ask questions of Ildi, my mother's cousin's widow. Since I am interested in a return visit, I am once again checking the food ads and making lists of necessary items to search for in thrift stores.
And it is time to make yet another pitch for the cookbook Frugal Son and i put together from Miss Em a few years ago, when she went off with a scholarship that provided a dorm room but not a board card. How to cook with limited resources, no car, a small fridge, and NO STOVE?
Thus was born our little cookbook. I have not really made an effort to market it, but copies sell now and again. And now--after all these years--a review! A good one!
Seriously, get your college student a rice cooker (very cheap), some rice (ditto) and a few other things. This will be a much-appreciated gift. I and my post-college kids (and their friends) use the book all the time. Not just for the stove-free.
I may depart from my blog's original purpose--to spread the gospel of frugality--and turn to more personal matters as I attempt to wrest information from the very few surviving relatives--who themselves remember very little and were greeted with silence about those terrible times.
For the moment though, I am back to frugality. After all, if we weren't frugal we couldn't go to the Balkans to ask questions of Ildi, my mother's cousin's widow. Since I am interested in a return visit, I am once again checking the food ads and making lists of necessary items to search for in thrift stores.
And it is time to make yet another pitch for the cookbook Frugal Son and i put together from Miss Em a few years ago, when she went off with a scholarship that provided a dorm room but not a board card. How to cook with limited resources, no car, a small fridge, and NO STOVE?
Thus was born our little cookbook. I have not really made an effort to market it, but copies sell now and again. And now--after all these years--a review! A good one!
Seriously, get your college student a rice cooker (very cheap), some rice (ditto) and a few other things. This will be a much-appreciated gift. I and my post-college kids (and their friends) use the book all the time. Not just for the stove-free.
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Sunday, 20 July 2014
In case anyone is wondering
I am back from a most amazing journey. Beginning in Brussels and Paris, then on to the Balkans: Serbia, Croatia, Bosnia. I can hardly begin to process what I experienced there.
And--while overcoming the jet lag from a 30 hour return trip--I finished the final volume of Proust. That too has been a journey--more than a year of reading, more than 4000 pages.
Thanks for commenting on the posts that appeared in my absence. Much appreciated, though I could only respond in my head.
One of the places we visited...
And--while overcoming the jet lag from a 30 hour return trip--I finished the final volume of Proust. That too has been a journey--more than a year of reading, more than 4000 pages.
Thanks for commenting on the posts that appeared in my absence. Much appreciated, though I could only respond in my head.
One of the places we visited...
Tuesday, 22 April 2014
The Best Deal in Chicago: Joining the Art Institute
Mr FS and I spent a bit of time in Chicago recently. We went to a conference and did some conference-like things. We spent a lot of time in Chicago in days of yore and did all the tourist must-dos. This time, we decided to go for broke in our out-of-conference activities. Craving beauty, we joined the Art Institute! For a year. For 5 days.
It costs $23 for a ticket to the Institute. The base membership costs $90 for an adult and GUEST. We also got a 10% discount for living far away. So for $81 we had 5 days of bliss (we went twice a day, since our hotel was a short walk away.)
We also got free admission to special exhibits (only one, as far as we could tell). A chic tote bag with a zipper. Early entry into the recently re-opened modern art galleries.
And--drumroll, please--entry into the Member's Lounge, which had comfy Eames and Barcelona chairs (and other iconic designs) and FREE COFFEE and TEA. Good coffee too--Illy. Mr FS and I joked that the coffee almost covered the membership. We also got to hear bits and pieces of very cultured conversations. Treats all around.
It costs $23 for a ticket to the Institute. The base membership costs $90 for an adult and GUEST. We also got a 10% discount for living far away. So for $81 we had 5 days of bliss (we went twice a day, since our hotel was a short walk away.)
We also got free admission to special exhibits (only one, as far as we could tell). A chic tote bag with a zipper. Early entry into the recently re-opened modern art galleries.
And--drumroll, please--entry into the Member's Lounge, which had comfy Eames and Barcelona chairs (and other iconic designs) and FREE COFFEE and TEA. Good coffee too--Illy. Mr FS and I joked that the coffee almost covered the membership. We also got to hear bits and pieces of very cultured conversations. Treats all around.
Tuesday, 23 July 2013
What I Bought in Europe: Souvenirs
Two large tubes of paprika paste: one regular, one hot.
It's not that I'm so virtuous. We had small suitcases, were traveling between cities, took subways and buses. Not to mention that we have an overstuffed house as it is.
If there's anything we want--haven't thought of it yet--we'll have to go back. Now there's an incentive.
On my first trip to Europe, I bought a skirt from Biba, a fisherman's sweater, a Spode plate for my mother, a pair of platform shoes, and that's what I can remember 30plus years on. Wish I still had the Biba skirt.
Has your travel-related buying changed?
It's not that I'm so virtuous. We had small suitcases, were traveling between cities, took subways and buses. Not to mention that we have an overstuffed house as it is.
If there's anything we want--haven't thought of it yet--we'll have to go back. Now there's an incentive.
On my first trip to Europe, I bought a skirt from Biba, a fisherman's sweater, a Spode plate for my mother, a pair of platform shoes, and that's what I can remember 30plus years on. Wish I still had the Biba skirt.
Has your travel-related buying changed?
Sunday, 21 July 2013
Paris, Budapest, Vienna, Prague: TBYM
We returned lat night from our longest trip ever, a dream trip of cities, three heretofore unvisited, including the city of my mother's birth. How did we pay for it? Being mere teachers and all. Who haven't had a raise in at least five years? The short answer is always the same: FRUGALITY. The longer answer is TBYM.
TBYM. That means TRAVEL BELOW YOUR MEANS. The term is adopted from the familiar LBYM, a cornerstone of frugal living, early retirement, and the like: LIVE BELOW YOUR MEANS. So when I hear about the snazzy lodgings and luxe restaurant meals of other tourists of my acquaintance, I'm not jealous for more than a few minutes. We are trading a long vacation for a shorter--and perhaps more intense--one.
The rough stats:
Airfare and inter-city transport: a bit under $3000. OUCH. I do envy people who can rack up big frequent flyer numbers through business cards and the like. I am not one of those people.
Lodging: Thank you internet for AirBandB and similar. We paid between $38 (Budapest) and $70 (Vienna) per night. Our apartment in Paris was teeny and probably below the acceptability level of many people reading this. We thought it was fine. These little apartments had washers and--most important--kitchens, so
Food: OK, my kids say we should go out more. Still, I LIKE cooking and I loved figuring out how to use the unfamiliar ingredients of Eastern Europe. So we ate chez nous mostly, just like at home. The best thing we ate: some strawberries in Prague.
Yeah, the numbers added up, but not as much as you would think. We're going to start saving for next year!
Do you TBYM?
TBYM. That means TRAVEL BELOW YOUR MEANS. The term is adopted from the familiar LBYM, a cornerstone of frugal living, early retirement, and the like: LIVE BELOW YOUR MEANS. So when I hear about the snazzy lodgings and luxe restaurant meals of other tourists of my acquaintance, I'm not jealous for more than a few minutes. We are trading a long vacation for a shorter--and perhaps more intense--one.
The rough stats:
Airfare and inter-city transport: a bit under $3000. OUCH. I do envy people who can rack up big frequent flyer numbers through business cards and the like. I am not one of those people.
Lodging: Thank you internet for AirBandB and similar. We paid between $38 (Budapest) and $70 (Vienna) per night. Our apartment in Paris was teeny and probably below the acceptability level of many people reading this. We thought it was fine. These little apartments had washers and--most important--kitchens, so
Food: OK, my kids say we should go out more. Still, I LIKE cooking and I loved figuring out how to use the unfamiliar ingredients of Eastern Europe. So we ate chez nous mostly, just like at home. The best thing we ate: some strawberries in Prague.
Yeah, the numbers added up, but not as much as you would think. We're going to start saving for next year!
Do you TBYM?
Thursday, 26 July 2012
Olive Oil and Salt Scrub: Dipping My Toes In
Ah, how to return to blogging after a long hiatus? Mr FS and I were in France for almost six weeks, three with Miss Em: perhaps details of our adventures will creep into posts now and again.
Anyone who knows me (either IRL or in the blog) knows I detest wasting things. One of my last activities in France involved a salt and olive oil scrub for my tired feet.
You see, we had a kitchen in several of our abodes, so I bought a liter of olive oil the first week and we schlepped it around in our rental car. We didn't use it up though.
There we were in our airport motel with my olive oil and some salt. I had been in misery over dry skin for a while, owing to time in the South of France (Nimes, Arles, Avignon, to name the most well-known spots). I was planning to leave my olive oil in a prominent position, in case the motel cleaners wanted it (doubtful). Then I remembered the salt scrub: mix oil with salt (or even sugar) and rub on your feet. Then wash it off or you might slip.
This was pure bliss: everyone knows that exfoliation is a good thing, right? Then I did it again in the morning, leaving the bottle of oil in a prominent spot as planned.
By the way, this activity was performed standing on one leg (with one foot in the sink) of a cheap motel. Imagine how luxe it would be sitting on the edge of a bonafide bathtub--of which we had only one in all six weeks.
Try this if you haven't yet. I'm sure everyone has dry skin from the hot summer.
Anyone who knows me (either IRL or in the blog) knows I detest wasting things. One of my last activities in France involved a salt and olive oil scrub for my tired feet.
You see, we had a kitchen in several of our abodes, so I bought a liter of olive oil the first week and we schlepped it around in our rental car. We didn't use it up though.
There we were in our airport motel with my olive oil and some salt. I had been in misery over dry skin for a while, owing to time in the South of France (Nimes, Arles, Avignon, to name the most well-known spots). I was planning to leave my olive oil in a prominent position, in case the motel cleaners wanted it (doubtful). Then I remembered the salt scrub: mix oil with salt (or even sugar) and rub on your feet. Then wash it off or you might slip.
This was pure bliss: everyone knows that exfoliation is a good thing, right? Then I did it again in the morning, leaving the bottle of oil in a prominent spot as planned.
By the way, this activity was performed standing on one leg (with one foot in the sink) of a cheap motel. Imagine how luxe it would be sitting on the edge of a bonafide bathtub--of which we had only one in all six weeks.
Try this if you haven't yet. I'm sure everyone has dry skin from the hot summer.
Tuesday, 26 June 2012
Friday, 6 April 2012
The NEW GIMMICKY Credit Union??
Many of the finance stories of the past few years present BIG BAD BANKS vs LITTLE VIRTUOUS CREDIT UNIONS. One area credit union even runs an ad saying, "People not profits." Yeah, I'm a fan.
But a recent experience makes me wonder if the credit unions are going the way of the big bad banks with confusing products, over-complexity, and incompetent reps.
Both my kids have checking/savings accounts at a credit union. I opened these to accommodate the dribs and drabs of money they occasionally received as gifts. I also appreciated the FREE CHECKING. So this is what they have.
Here is the latest missive. LACAP will no longer offer the FREE CHECKING. As of May 1, you will be automatically transferred to an XXX account. Checking will remain free if you have 10 NON-ATM Debit transactions per month or Direct Deposit. If you don't use your debit card enough, you will be charged $8.00/month.
Well, guess what? Frugal Son can't have his French salary direct-deposited! He needs the debit card for occasional cash withdrawals.
Miss Em doesn't have an income to be direct deposited. And she doesn't need the hassle of keeping count of her debit transactions.
So I called. The first rep suggested that I set up a Direct Deposit from MY checking account for them--say $5/month. Good idea! Of course, when I called back the next day, the new rep said that would not be permitted.
She referred me to their range of checking accounts. All were of the DO THIS AND YOU GET THIS, but if YOU DON'T DO THIS, YOU GET THIS (GREATER) PENALTY.
My head started spinning. This is a sign of over-complexity and deliberate efforts to confuse.
My favorite is their IRA. WITH A 7% RATE. The small print says the 7% rate is good till the end of 2012--so for 8 months. After that--still tiny print--it reverts to the regular rate of .5%. That's POINT 5, not 5.
P.S. Don't tell me I'm being a helicopter! Frugal Son is in France and can't deal with this. Miss Em is in Alabama and working hard. I'm hoping they will return the favor* when I'm too old to manage.
*Example of returning the favor: Frugal Son will be meeting his Grandma in the Vienna airport in a few days. They will be visiting the city of her birth. He has planned the whole trip, made all the reservations, and will be taking her around with his German friend Floh.
But a recent experience makes me wonder if the credit unions are going the way of the big bad banks with confusing products, over-complexity, and incompetent reps.
Both my kids have checking/savings accounts at a credit union. I opened these to accommodate the dribs and drabs of money they occasionally received as gifts. I also appreciated the FREE CHECKING. So this is what they have.
Here is the latest missive. LACAP will no longer offer the FREE CHECKING. As of May 1, you will be automatically transferred to an XXX account. Checking will remain free if you have 10 NON-ATM Debit transactions per month or Direct Deposit. If you don't use your debit card enough, you will be charged $8.00/month.
Well, guess what? Frugal Son can't have his French salary direct-deposited! He needs the debit card for occasional cash withdrawals.
Miss Em doesn't have an income to be direct deposited. And she doesn't need the hassle of keeping count of her debit transactions.
So I called. The first rep suggested that I set up a Direct Deposit from MY checking account for them--say $5/month. Good idea! Of course, when I called back the next day, the new rep said that would not be permitted.
She referred me to their range of checking accounts. All were of the DO THIS AND YOU GET THIS, but if YOU DON'T DO THIS, YOU GET THIS (GREATER) PENALTY.
My head started spinning. This is a sign of over-complexity and deliberate efforts to confuse.
My favorite is their IRA. WITH A 7% RATE. The small print says the 7% rate is good till the end of 2012--so for 8 months. After that--still tiny print--it reverts to the regular rate of .5%. That's POINT 5, not 5.
P.S. Don't tell me I'm being a helicopter! Frugal Son is in France and can't deal with this. Miss Em is in Alabama and working hard. I'm hoping they will return the favor* when I'm too old to manage.
*Example of returning the favor: Frugal Son will be meeting his Grandma in the Vienna airport in a few days. They will be visiting the city of her birth. He has planned the whole trip, made all the reservations, and will be taking her around with his German friend Floh.
Thursday, 5 April 2012
DESENCOMBRER: French Lessons and Memories
That's the word for declutter in French. Accent on first e. Sorry beloved French teachers of my past.
I wrote a post a few days ago on decluttering my inbox. Unsubscribing. Much to my dismay, I discovered I had written almost exactly the same post in 2009. Of course, I had no recollection. Obviously, the lesson did not stick, since my inbox has been gradually filling up again. UGH. Will I ever get this stuff under control?
French Lessons. In spite of the lack of graphics, I have been having a lot of fun with the FREEEE Foreign Service language lessons. I open two windows and have the text in one and the audio in the other. I actually have a good foundation in French and it's IN THERE SOMEWHERE. I don't know how the program would work for someone who is starting from scratch.
The best thing about it: it is fun when I am too tired even to read. I have been sick for over a week now and I am sooooo tired. And my accent--which I used to get so many compliments on--is so bad.
I'm hoping that I will be able to speak a bit more on my next trip to France. I only came up with one good sentence last summer. Apropos my organized daughter, I said Elle fait ce qu'on doit faire. (She does what she has to do/what needs to be done). My own jaw dropped when I said that.
Later, I realized why that excellent and idiomatic sentence emerged from the depths. In college, I took a very difficult course: French Romantic and Symbolist Poetry. With my favorite teacher (who no doubt has no recollection of me, his admiring student) M. Samuel Danon. Oh, the material was so hard.
In the little Apollinaire book we had for the class, I found a simple poem.
Avec ses quatre dromadaires
Don Pedro d'Alfaroubeira
courut le monde et l'admira
il fit ce que je voudrais faire
si j'avais quatre dromadaires
Guillaume Apollinaire
For some reason, I memorized it. If you take a look, you will see the template for my one good sentence of Summer 2011.
One thing about trying to resurrect my French: it's a no-clutter activity!
I wrote a post a few days ago on decluttering my inbox. Unsubscribing. Much to my dismay, I discovered I had written almost exactly the same post in 2009. Of course, I had no recollection. Obviously, the lesson did not stick, since my inbox has been gradually filling up again. UGH. Will I ever get this stuff under control?
French Lessons. In spite of the lack of graphics, I have been having a lot of fun with the FREEEE Foreign Service language lessons. I open two windows and have the text in one and the audio in the other. I actually have a good foundation in French and it's IN THERE SOMEWHERE. I don't know how the program would work for someone who is starting from scratch.
The best thing about it: it is fun when I am too tired even to read. I have been sick for over a week now and I am sooooo tired. And my accent--which I used to get so many compliments on--is so bad.
I'm hoping that I will be able to speak a bit more on my next trip to France. I only came up with one good sentence last summer. Apropos my organized daughter, I said Elle fait ce qu'on doit faire. (She does what she has to do/what needs to be done). My own jaw dropped when I said that.
Later, I realized why that excellent and idiomatic sentence emerged from the depths. In college, I took a very difficult course: French Romantic and Symbolist Poetry. With my favorite teacher (who no doubt has no recollection of me, his admiring student) M. Samuel Danon. Oh, the material was so hard.
In the little Apollinaire book we had for the class, I found a simple poem.
Avec ses quatre dromadaires
Don Pedro d'Alfaroubeira
courut le monde et l'admira
il fit ce que je voudrais faire
si j'avais quatre dromadaires
Guillaume Apollinaire
For some reason, I memorized it. If you take a look, you will see the template for my one good sentence of Summer 2011.
One thing about trying to resurrect my French: it's a no-clutter activity!
Tuesday, 3 April 2012
Learning Language with the Foreign Service: FREEEEEEEEEEEEE
My colleague Merton--a linguist and all-around frugal guy--told me a while ago that Rosetta Stone--the ubiquitous language learning program--is based on material in the public domain: the language learning programs developed by the Foreign Service. Merton even dug out his old copy (looked like the dittos of days of yore) that he got in his Peace Corps days in the 1960s.
I've been sitting on this for a while. I really should practice my French. It is lurking just below the surface of consciousness. Mr FS listens to French radio, but his French is a lot better than mine, having lived in France for several years in youth and young adulthood.
I found the site that has the Foreign Service lessons. It looks like an on-line ditto! You can look at the book and listen to the lessons.
Does anyone know how this compare to Rosetta Stone? I've never looked at their materials.
The left-hand column gives you quite the assortment of languages from which to choose. In the meantime: Asseyez-vous!
I've been sitting on this for a while. I really should practice my French. It is lurking just below the surface of consciousness. Mr FS listens to French radio, but his French is a lot better than mine, having lived in France for several years in youth and young adulthood.
I found the site that has the Foreign Service lessons. It looks like an on-line ditto! You can look at the book and listen to the lessons.
Does anyone know how this compare to Rosetta Stone? I've never looked at their materials.
The left-hand column gives you quite the assortment of languages from which to choose. In the meantime: Asseyez-vous!
Thursday, 12 January 2012
News from Nantes!
An email from the people whose home we stayed in last summer:
Où que vous soyez, nous vous envoyons nos meilleurs vœux pour l’année 2012.
Avez-vous des projets pour l’été ? Nous serons à Nantes, au moins jusqu’au 20 juillet car Laureline (la fille de Jacques, que vous connaissez) nous a annoncé à Noël qu’elle allait accoucher vers le 13 juillet !! Nous voilà donc bientôt grands-parents …
Mais si vous souhaitez revenir, vous êtes les bienvenus !
Amicalement
Yay! We can go back! Now we need to plan where else we will go.
Où que vous soyez, nous vous envoyons nos meilleurs vœux pour l’année 2012.
Avez-vous des projets pour l’été ? Nous serons à Nantes, au moins jusqu’au 20 juillet car Laureline (la fille de Jacques, que vous connaissez) nous a annoncé à Noël qu’elle allait accoucher vers le 13 juillet !! Nous voilà donc bientôt grands-parents …
Mais si vous souhaitez revenir, vous êtes les bienvenus !
Amicalement
Yay! We can go back! Now we need to plan where else we will go.
Friday, 6 January 2012
The Lure of Perfection and Making Do: My Mother's Scarves
Like many other bloggers, I sometimes have the urge to buy one perfect item--and be done with it. I first had a glimpse of this orientation many years ago, when I dined with a person who is somewhat famous: I'm sure she doesn't remember me and, in fact, took no notice of me at the dinner. All I recall, other than her indifference, was her pronouncement that for the past few years, she had bought a single Armani suit each year. And that was all. So impressive! Since she was pregnant when I met her, and wearing borrowed maternity clothing, I couldn't gauge the success of her choice.
But whenever I think this is the way to go, something happens to make me reconsider.
We recently took a family trip to Florida. We rendezvoused with Miss Em's friend Mr C in Pensacola, where he left his car and joined us for the journey. Miss Em put some of her stuff in the trunk of the car, so Mr C could bring it to school for her in January. A few days later, Mr C got a phone call: someone had thrown a rock through the window of his car! My first thought (after condolences to the car owner, of course): oh no! All of Miss Em's expensive new items are in her expensive new backpack!
As it happens, the vandal just wanted to make a mess and everything was safe in the trunk. And I also remembered that homeowner's insurance would cover any stolen items anyway.
Still, owning expensive items can be stressful. I loved the fact that if my young children spilled grape juice on their thrifted outfits, I could remain nonchalant about the whole thing. I know if I did buy that Hermes scarf (about to go up in price, by the way) I would worry about losing it, spilling something on it, etc etc.
My mother gave Miss Em and me a few pieces of jewelry that belonged to my grandmother and great-aunt. I asked my mother if she had any scarves she wanted to get rid of. As it happened, she had a whole pile of lovelies from the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. She bought them many years ago when she attended some lectures there. I don't think she's worn the scarves for 20 years. She was happy to give some to me. She may, in fact, have gotten the scarves at a discount, since my father's cousin does research at the museum.
So, my mother decluttered. Miss Em and I got some pretty scarves: ecological and economical at the same time.
And I can still save up for the perfect one.
Do you make do or go for perfection?
But whenever I think this is the way to go, something happens to make me reconsider.
We recently took a family trip to Florida. We rendezvoused with Miss Em's friend Mr C in Pensacola, where he left his car and joined us for the journey. Miss Em put some of her stuff in the trunk of the car, so Mr C could bring it to school for her in January. A few days later, Mr C got a phone call: someone had thrown a rock through the window of his car! My first thought (after condolences to the car owner, of course): oh no! All of Miss Em's expensive new items are in her expensive new backpack!
As it happens, the vandal just wanted to make a mess and everything was safe in the trunk. And I also remembered that homeowner's insurance would cover any stolen items anyway.
Still, owning expensive items can be stressful. I loved the fact that if my young children spilled grape juice on their thrifted outfits, I could remain nonchalant about the whole thing. I know if I did buy that Hermes scarf (about to go up in price, by the way) I would worry about losing it, spilling something on it, etc etc.
My mother gave Miss Em and me a few pieces of jewelry that belonged to my grandmother and great-aunt. I asked my mother if she had any scarves she wanted to get rid of. As it happened, she had a whole pile of lovelies from the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. She bought them many years ago when she attended some lectures there. I don't think she's worn the scarves for 20 years. She was happy to give some to me. She may, in fact, have gotten the scarves at a discount, since my father's cousin does research at the museum.
So, my mother decluttered. Miss Em and I got some pretty scarves: ecological and economical at the same time.
And I can still save up for the perfect one.
Do you make do or go for perfection?
Friday, 21 October 2011
Advice and Opinions Wanted: from Francophiles and Others
Soooo, we asked Frugal Son to keep a look-out for rentals in France, since our freebie of last year was probably a once-in-a-lifetime kind of event. Lo and behold: another Assistant would like to sublet her apartment in the old part of Le Mans for 500 euros a month.
Le Mans does not seem as chock full of stuff to do as Nantes, which was our nearest city last summer. Still, Le Mans is closer to Paris and the price seems quite good to us.
What do you think, dear Readers? Should we make arrangements or keep on looking?
Le Mans does not seem as chock full of stuff to do as Nantes, which was our nearest city last summer. Still, Le Mans is closer to Paris and the price seems quite good to us.
What do you think, dear Readers? Should we make arrangements or keep on looking?
Friday, 12 August 2011
Am I TOO Cheap? Airplane Food and Icelandic Wisdom
The above question sometimes worries me. I am frugal by upbringing (frugal parents), necessity (many years in school), and marriage (frugal husband--yay!). My frugal habits are so--well--habitual that it never would occur to me to buy food on an airplane. Do you indulge in such things?
To and from France, we flew Icelandic. The flight attendants wore snazzy outfits, the fleece blankies were cozy, the water bottles were stylish. BUT--even on a 3 hour leg and a 5 hour leg--no free food was served, except to first class and to all kids. (I thought long international flights served meals???)
I still have the brochure for MATUR & DRYKKUR: sandwich for 5 euros, cookie for 2 euros, pasta salad for 10 euros. Almost everyone bought food, as far as I could tell. That includes the family with a kid across the aisle. The kid rejected his free sandwich and ate only the free snacks. The parents tossed the sandwich and purchased two sandwiches for themselves. Am I the only one who thinks that is weird?
Anyway, Mr FS and I munched on food we brought from home. The Icelandic snacks looked good though!
Interestingly, the airport in Iceland offered free postcards with Icelandic sayings. I took the one with the frugal message: Everything is hay in hard times.
Do you buy food on the plane?
To and from France, we flew Icelandic. The flight attendants wore snazzy outfits, the fleece blankies were cozy, the water bottles were stylish. BUT--even on a 3 hour leg and a 5 hour leg--no free food was served, except to first class and to all kids. (I thought long international flights served meals???)
I still have the brochure for MATUR & DRYKKUR: sandwich for 5 euros, cookie for 2 euros, pasta salad for 10 euros. Almost everyone bought food, as far as I could tell. That includes the family with a kid across the aisle. The kid rejected his free sandwich and ate only the free snacks. The parents tossed the sandwich and purchased two sandwiches for themselves. Am I the only one who thinks that is weird?
Anyway, Mr FS and I munched on food we brought from home. The Icelandic snacks looked good though!
Interestingly, the airport in Iceland offered free postcards with Icelandic sayings. I took the one with the frugal message: Everything is hay in hard times.
Do you buy food on the plane?
Friday, 29 July 2011
A Simple Meal in France
A few days ago, I wrote about an elegant meal to which we were invited while we were in France. We also received an invitation to stay with Claire and Gerard in Brittany. It was a wonderful visit where we were once again treated to incredible hospitality.
While our first hosts, Francoise and Herve, were somewhat bourgeois, our second hosts exuded a more countercultural vibe. When we arrived, we met the hosts, their daughter, and her two children. Then it turned out that their son, his girlfriend, and two more people were set to arrive, making 11 people; 9 of us slept upstairs.
Claire was unfazed by all this. We arrived back from a day of exploring to find dinner already in process. We are having ratatouille, said Claire. In French, of course. I realized that the huge vat of ratatouille--which consisted of zucchini, onion, and tomato--no eggplant or peppers--had been made from the giant zucchini we saw Gerard cut from the plant earlier that morning. With that we had basmati rice. Bread, of course.
This was followed by some goat cheese from the area where Claire's mother lives.
For dessert we had small bowls of ice cream festooned with a half a peach and a dollop of home-made jam. It seems everyone makes jam in France.
This meal was extremely easy to produce and also quite inexpensive, proving that labor and expense are not necessary for wonderful dining and interesting conversation.
Unfortunately, my French was in a decline (though I did try), so I relaxed by talking to the grandchildren, who thought my French was just fine. The grumpy friend of our hosts' son who was silent for virtually the entire time surprised us by uttering a sentence in excellent English.
Mr FS was explaining that he first learned French when his father had a Fulbright in Paris in 1968. His family witnessed the famous student strike that spring--and lots of other strikes as well. When Mr. FS paused for a bit, Grumpy Friend said "Did you smoke weed in 1968?" That was the only sentence she said in our presence.
While our first hosts, Francoise and Herve, were somewhat bourgeois, our second hosts exuded a more countercultural vibe. When we arrived, we met the hosts, their daughter, and her two children. Then it turned out that their son, his girlfriend, and two more people were set to arrive, making 11 people; 9 of us slept upstairs.
Claire was unfazed by all this. We arrived back from a day of exploring to find dinner already in process. We are having ratatouille, said Claire. In French, of course. I realized that the huge vat of ratatouille--which consisted of zucchini, onion, and tomato--no eggplant or peppers--had been made from the giant zucchini we saw Gerard cut from the plant earlier that morning. With that we had basmati rice. Bread, of course.
This was followed by some goat cheese from the area where Claire's mother lives.
For dessert we had small bowls of ice cream festooned with a half a peach and a dollop of home-made jam. It seems everyone makes jam in France.
This meal was extremely easy to produce and also quite inexpensive, proving that labor and expense are not necessary for wonderful dining and interesting conversation.
Unfortunately, my French was in a decline (though I did try), so I relaxed by talking to the grandchildren, who thought my French was just fine. The grumpy friend of our hosts' son who was silent for virtually the entire time surprised us by uttering a sentence in excellent English.
Mr FS was explaining that he first learned French when his father had a Fulbright in Paris in 1968. His family witnessed the famous student strike that spring--and lots of other strikes as well. When Mr. FS paused for a bit, Grumpy Friend said "Did you smoke weed in 1968?" That was the only sentence she said in our presence.
Thursday, 28 July 2011
Julia Child was Frugal
In the waning days of my summer break, I'm reading As Always, Julia, a selection of letters between the great Julia Child and the also great Avis DeVoto, who was instrumental in the publication of Mastering the Art of French Cooking.
If you saw the film Julie and Julia--I fastforwarded through Julie and only saw Julia--you might recall a rather scandalous comment Julia made about a quenelle (I think it was). That comment was supposedly drawn from her letters to Avis DeVoto (who is represented in the film); however, it may not be included in the book.
I am always searching for Frugal Sisters, so I was delighted to discover that Julia, from an affluent Pasadena family, who brought to her marriage income from a trust fund, shares my sense of frugality. Note: I don't have a trust fund.
Here she is trying to talk Avis into accepting a plane ticket for a visit to Julia and Paul in Europe. I think Avis was widowed by this time.
Our finances are in a particularly lush state this year. We live on Paul's salary, and anything from my income is used for pure squandering. We have set aside a more than comfortable lump for our home leave next year, and for a new car . . . and the rest is gravy. The point of money, we think, after you have taken care of the minimum living essentials, is to spend it. We always live on a strict budget, and pile up as much as we can for squanderings. Please think it over and say yes . . What fun!
Aren't we lucky to have enough for the minimum and to have enough to save for a future squandering? And isn't Julia's generosity just incredible?
Naturally, my next squandering will be another trip to Europe. What is yours?
If you saw the film Julie and Julia--I fastforwarded through Julie and only saw Julia--you might recall a rather scandalous comment Julia made about a quenelle (I think it was). That comment was supposedly drawn from her letters to Avis DeVoto (who is represented in the film); however, it may not be included in the book.
I am always searching for Frugal Sisters, so I was delighted to discover that Julia, from an affluent Pasadena family, who brought to her marriage income from a trust fund, shares my sense of frugality. Note: I don't have a trust fund.
Here she is trying to talk Avis into accepting a plane ticket for a visit to Julia and Paul in Europe. I think Avis was widowed by this time.
Our finances are in a particularly lush state this year. We live on Paul's salary, and anything from my income is used for pure squandering. We have set aside a more than comfortable lump for our home leave next year, and for a new car . . . and the rest is gravy. The point of money, we think, after you have taken care of the minimum living essentials, is to spend it. We always live on a strict budget, and pile up as much as we can for squanderings. Please think it over and say yes . . What fun!
Aren't we lucky to have enough for the minimum and to have enough to save for a future squandering? And isn't Julia's generosity just incredible?
Naturally, my next squandering will be another trip to Europe. What is yours?
Monday, 25 July 2011
Frugal in France: Contrarianism and Macaroons
I am generally of a contrarian bent. Sometimes I think that is just a nice way to say hostile to forms of authority. I do think that contrarianism is conducive to frugality: every time someone says You must do/have this, the Contrarian says Why? or even No.
It is, as you might expect, often hard to be contrarian because people think you are weird. It can save a ton of money, however, as in, You must send your kids to private school because the public schools are terrible, You must send your kids on all of the overpriced Disney trips offered each year, and so on.
However, the Contrarian can miss out on things just because it becomes a habit to be contrary. I was thinking these thoughts recently as Mr. FS and I took a mercifully quick stroll down the Champs-Elysées. The street was still decorated for Bastille Day, very cool. It was fun (for a short while) to watch the hordes of people.
Two observations. There was a LINE OF PEOPLE AROUND THE BLOCK to get into the Louis Vuitton store. Almost everyone was carrying a small green bag from the Laduree Macaroon shop.
Needless to say, contrarian me would not stand on line to get into an LV shop. But I really should get over my contrarian ways and try at least one of those famous macaroons, which have become something of a cult item.
So the contrarianism that fuels my frugality--and enabled us to have a longish sojourn in France--may have kept us from braving the crowds (even at the other locations, I'm sure) and trying an iconic macaroon.
Here is a book I remember reading in my childhood. My father called me Contrary Woodrow for years. I'm sure he changed his ways by the end of the story.
So, readers, are you contrarian? Have you tried one of the famous macaroons?
It is, as you might expect, often hard to be contrarian because people think you are weird. It can save a ton of money, however, as in, You must send your kids to private school because the public schools are terrible, You must send your kids on all of the overpriced Disney trips offered each year, and so on.
However, the Contrarian can miss out on things just because it becomes a habit to be contrary. I was thinking these thoughts recently as Mr. FS and I took a mercifully quick stroll down the Champs-Elysées. The street was still decorated for Bastille Day, very cool. It was fun (for a short while) to watch the hordes of people.
Two observations. There was a LINE OF PEOPLE AROUND THE BLOCK to get into the Louis Vuitton store. Almost everyone was carrying a small green bag from the Laduree Macaroon shop.
Needless to say, contrarian me would not stand on line to get into an LV shop. But I really should get over my contrarian ways and try at least one of those famous macaroons, which have become something of a cult item.
So the contrarianism that fuels my frugality--and enabled us to have a longish sojourn in France--may have kept us from braving the crowds (even at the other locations, I'm sure) and trying an iconic macaroon.
Here is a book I remember reading in my childhood. My father called me Contrary Woodrow for years. I'm sure he changed his ways by the end of the story.
So, readers, are you contrarian? Have you tried one of the famous macaroons?
Friday, 22 July 2011
Frugal in France: Bank of France and Monoprix
Are you dying to know what I got at Monoprix? It's not very exciting. Mr. FS and I nipped into the one in Nantes to get a bakery item, when I noticed that they were having FINAL MARKDOWNS. I had been in earlier and looked around and walked out empty-handed, with my head held high.
Final Markdowns: I am not that strong. I tried on a ton of stuff and put most everything back, even though the prices were ridiculous. To wit: a tank top for 2 euros. Anyway, I bought a cotton jersey cardigan, black leggings, 2 crinkly scarves (one for a gift), and--the budget buster--9 pairs of men's sport socks.Budget buster is tongue in cheek: total bill was 23 euros.
Meanwhile, Mr FS was at the Bank of France, a scary place where he had to go through severla layers of security, show ID, be photographed, and more. His mission? To change an obsolete 100 franc note for euros. He did it in the nick of time: the window closes in 2012. His "take"? 15 euros.
Almost even. Any recent successes in avoiding the temptations all around us?
Final Markdowns: I am not that strong. I tried on a ton of stuff and put most everything back, even though the prices were ridiculous. To wit: a tank top for 2 euros. Anyway, I bought a cotton jersey cardigan, black leggings, 2 crinkly scarves (one for a gift), and--the budget buster--9 pairs of men's sport socks.Budget buster is tongue in cheek: total bill was 23 euros.
Meanwhile, Mr FS was at the Bank of France, a scary place where he had to go through severla layers of security, show ID, be photographed, and more. His mission? To change an obsolete 100 franc note for euros. He did it in the nick of time: the window closes in 2012. His "take"? 15 euros.
Almost even. Any recent successes in avoiding the temptations all around us?
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