Last week I was trying to decide which bulk toilet paper package would be the most economical, and posted my dilemma on my Facebook status.  A friend promptly suggested Amazon’s Subscribe & Save program (S&S).  So, I checked it out.  Since I make an effort to make conscious choices, my toilet paper brand of choice is Seventh Generation, and I was happy to find that many Seventh Generation products are offered as part of the S&S program.  And, I would get much more for my money that if I ordered through my current wholesale co-op.  Shipping and handling is free.

I love ordering bulk.  It makes me feel more secure, knowing that if Nate were to lose his job, or at the very least get sick and lose some days, that we’ve got plenty to last us through to the next month.  It also means less grocery trips AND I get to do what I love, which is online shop (actual, physical shopping of any kind if very draining for me).

I used to think that buying/ordering bulk was some sort of over-consumption gone wild.  This sort of obsession that one of something wasn’t enough, that the more the better.  My worst fears have not been realized, mostly because I strive to make conscious choices; to vote with my dollars, if you will.

I’m still checking out the S&S program, to see what it all offers.  Feel free to leave in the comments something you’re doing to save on everyday household purchases.

I’m a pack-rat by nature.  I’ll hold on to empty toilet paper rolls just because there’s a potential craft.  I have a hard time throwing out used envelopes (you never know when you’re going to need to make a list!).  I love books and magazines (although I find that the library helps a little bit with this, the exception being, of course, when it’s an obscure title).  I get distracted, a LOT.  And this was before-kid, so I can’t hide behind that reason (which, believe me, is a very, VERY viable one!).  I have several projects going, half of which I don’t even know I still have going.  I read somewhere that every knitter has about 8 knitting projects going – fortunately, I’m not quite the knitster that some are, and only have 6.

Right now, half of the dinner table is covered with paper stuff: mail, books, magazines, and god knows what else.  Two other shelves and the desk where I sit share a similar fate (also, Nate has a bit of an affinity for what I call dust-magnets or chotchskies).  Oh, and the top of the fridge.  So, I’m not totally rescued from clutter.  However, I’m not totally consumed by it, either.

I have found that the larger the space, I interpret it as a place to put “stuff”.  I’m not sure if this is because, growing up one of 8 children rendered me precious little of my own personal space, or some hereditary gene I inherited from my similarly sentimental pack-rat father (although he’s much more neat with his stuff!).  In any case, learning this about myself has really been illuminating.  I’ve decided that I really LOVE the 747 sq. ft that is our place, mostly because it’s given me a chance to achieve what before now was never possible: a (mostly) clutter-free environment.

Living on such a small, simple level has really allowed us to examine what is really important to us.  It’s not just a move toward economic or environmental conscientiousness.  It’s much more personal than that.  Almost spiritual in a way, as we seek to let go of our attachment to “stuff” and follow a less cluttered path to spiritual growth.

I’m pretty sure I blogged about this once before, in my “early” blogging days, but over the last year, I’ve learned just how vital a good community is!

Despite my extroverted manner, I am actually a bit shy (it’s more a worry that people won’t like me because I’m not smart or hip enough and when I do get talking, there’s definitely a foot in the mouth factor), and making truly good friends has been difficult for me in the past.  But I had resolved that I would make the best of our move last year and that I would find a community to be a part of.  This grew mostly out of the isolation I felt as a stay at home mother on a military base, which seemed amplified when Nate was deployed, as at times, he was my only lifeline.  I also think that there would be a lot less post-partum depression/psychosis if women had a supportive group of mothers surrounding them (or at the very least, someone to catch them on their way down the abyss).  So I formed a mother’s group last fall, and after a few fits and starts, it’s taking off really well.

Part of the goal of this group is to support each other through gifts of service (like child care), as well as bartering and sharing what other skills, talents and things we have.  I have particularly benefited from the child care as well as being the recipient of three pairs of pants, from a lovely friend who lost quite a bit of weight, and wanted to pass them on.  Since my wardrobe has been slowly declining – one pair of jeans has a rip, and the other a rather ill-fitting pair with an outdated pattern on one leg (at $6.99 who can complain?) – I welcomed this gift, wholeheartedly.  It made me think about donating things to Goodwill, which is nice, but then others have to pay for them.  Why not share with a friend?  Heck, give something away to a complete stranger, while we’re at it?!

And then, I can’t go without mentioning another sweet friend who has not only allowed me a plot in her garden, but willingly shared her seeds with me (as well as her knowledge of gardening), and is fine with me bringing my food scraps over to put in her compost (so long as I don’t dirty it up with bread, cheese and meat, :0 ).  So this year, I may not have a patio garden experiment (although I’d love to hear from those who do).

My friends’ acts of generosity really made me want to pay it forward.  It also made me realize that, right now, with what America is facing, community is really what is going to pull us through this mess, not millions of dollars of bailouts to car companies.  It is the encouragment of my friends when I tell them my goals of living a debt-free life, the excitement they share when I tell them how far we are, and sometimes the no-nonsense replies to my excuses for not exercising that allows me to focus on the positive instead of the negative, and when things are tough, help me through a rough spot.  This sense of community seems to be largely lost in a culture that is overly concerned with connection.  If this recession brings about anything positive, let us hope it’s community connections.

This past week, Nate finally paid off his last credit card.  What a relief!  We are now Credit Card-Free!  It’s almost been a year since I started blogging and getting our finances under control, and while it was my goal to start 2009 without any credit card debt, 3 months later isn’t too shabby.  I’ve been credit card free since November, myself.  I sort of feel like a member of “Credit Card Users Anonymous” (which, as far as I know doesn’t exist…but perhaps it should?!). Feel free to write/call me for support when you’re about to use it!  I’ll talk you down from that ledge! 

It’s so nice to have another box crossed out on our “Financial Freedom Plan.”  Next up?  Our car loan.  With less than $6,000 left, we should be able to get it paid off by the end of the year.  That’s my goal, in any case.  Of course I’ll keep you posted.

It can be done.

Although I strive to “never say never”, I feel that this may be one of those times.  I will never bemoan how “poor” we are again.  Today, I encountered yet another homeless vet on the on-ramp, and having only a mere $1 in my purse, I gave it to him (you have probably read about what a “sucker” I am in another post).  The ultimate irony is that I was on my way to pick $10/gallon raw milk.  The light was red, and he briefly shared his predicament with me.  From Alaska, so the cold nights were not too bad, so he said.  And he needed a kidney transplant.  I know a little how the VA system works, and knew he might die before he gets it.

Seth wanted to know who he was, why I was talking to him, and why I gave him money.  It was the perfect chance to teach him about compassion, although I have to say the experience left me learning more about gratitude than all of the 30 Thanksgiving Days of my life.  It helps that Seth asks a lot of “why?” questions.  “Why is he homeless?  Why doesn’t he have food?  Why can’t he work?”

And here I am, in my relatively new VW station wagon (a 2004), which we still owe roughly $6,000 on, giving him a mere dollar.  I almost went back to pick him up, and cook him a decent meal.  Less out of guilt, and more out of gratitude of what he taught me.  I am not poor.  I have never known what being poor is like.  Not really.  There was a period when I was 6 that we were “homeless” but we went and lived with my Dad’s family in California, still managing to attend a private religious school, and I vaguely remember a trip to a cabin in the mountains.  We always had nice clothes, even if they were handmedowns, we had toys, we had food, we had a roof over our heads.  We had shoes, we had coats.  I’ve only once slept outside and that was in college and by choice (and not very far from my dorm room, either!).  Of course, seeing these guys out there, always drives home the thin line that lies between where we are and where they are.  It’s a fine line for a lot of people these days.

As I was answering Seth’s questions, I said to him, “Wow, we’re really lucky, aren’t we?”  And it does come down to that, in these economic times.  There are people with multiple college degrees who can’t even get a job at the supermarket, and yet we’re sitting here, a decent job, a nice car, our little place, our pantry stocked, toys and books cluttering up every crook and cranny.  How in the world did we get so lucky?  The universe is truly smiling on us.

Yes, my dear Marianne, I’ve finally decided to tackle this challenge.  It definitely got my creative juices flowing.

Many of my friends have found themselves unemployed, saddled down with debt…if this is you, keep reading.  If it’s not…keep reading anyway, it’s very likely you know someone who is.

Here is the best of what I’ve got, it may seem cruel and heartless, but believe me, sometimes tough love is what is needed.

At this point, you may have to consider that you’re bloody poor.  Welfare poor.  Sign-me-up-for-WIC-poor and give-me-Food-Stamps poor (not that I recommend you do any of the above, you want to maintain your independence and WIC food is not quality).  At this point, you might have to throw “living well” out the window.  Or redefine what that means, in any case.

1. Lower your expenses until they can go no lower.  This may mean getting rid of an extra car (or go car-free, and get a bike).  Moving into a much smaller abode (and when I say much smaller, I’m talking the smallest you can get).  If you have pets, ask someone you know who loves pets to foster them for you while you pull yourself out of the hole you’re in.  Eat less meat, eat more beans, or eat one less meal a day.  Look into gleaning.  Cancel Netflix.  Cancel Internet – go to the library or roam for free WiFi.  Get the lowest phone plan possible.  Shop Goodwill or see if you have friends who would be willing to donate their old clothes.  Learn how to patch up old clothes, darn socks, etc.  Dumpster Dive, especially behind stores/malls – you’d be surprised what you’d find in there (you and some friends in similar straits can plan a “mission” once a week, might be kinda fun!).

2. As to employment.  There are jobs…craigslist seems to be full of them.  At this point, being picky is really not much of an option.  You might have to work at Starbucks.  Or walk dogs.  Or bath elderly people…all for the minimum wage.  It’s ok, you don’t have to do it forever.  It might feel like it, but there’s light at the end of the tunnel.  If you are a stay-at-home mom, who is a little creative and organized, consider doing child care.  Find odd jobs for skills you have.  Go to a temp agency.  Mow lawns.  Deliver newspapers.  Drive a school bus.  Play the piano for church services.  Babysit.  Seriously, this is not a time to be picky.

3. The debt.  First, know what the statute of limitations is on credit cards.  If you haven’t paid for a really long time (like 7-10 years) you may very well be in the clear.  You have to check what the law is for your state.  Second, take the smallest one that you intend to pay off and see if you can’t negotiate both a lower amount and a payment plan that you can manage.  Make a little chart, post it on the fridge, and keep track.  If you have a check coming from the IRS, use it to pay off debt, not to cover living expenses.

4.  Live communally.  Find another family or two, find a reasonably sized house, work out a reasonable food budget, get rid of all vehicles except for one that’s paid off (and get some bikes), and figure out how to put all your skills and knowledge to work for everyone.  I imagine that if another family of three rented a three bedroom house with us in this area (this area being the Portland metro area), we’d only be paying $500 for rent, which would be lower than the $735 we’re paying for our little one bedroom apartment, and it would have the perks of having a yard in which to grow vegetables and perhaps house some chickens.  Having lived in a large family myself (8 kids), I know that we could get by with just one car and a whole lot of bikes.

5.  Be honest with extended family members about what’s going on, tell them that should they give any gifts that do not meet the basic needs of the family, they will be returned or exchanged for ones that do (and when this happens, do it!).  Little Tommy will be better served by spending quality time having dinner at his Grandma and Grandpa’s than getting a new toy truck.

6. Finally, if all else fails, you may need to consider bankruptcy. Don’t worry about what other people think…if they cared so much about you declaring bankruptcy, they might have pitched in to help you before it got to that point.  And, aside from that, it’s probably more about how they feel (perhaps guilty for having it so good, perhaps afraid because it might mean that they are a few steps away from it themselves).  Don’t worry about your credit rating, at this point, it’s probably shot, and quite frankly, it doesn’t really mean anything (watch “Maxed Out” for more information about how credit ratings are determined).

Drastic times call for drastic measures.  This is the most drastic I could think of.  I would be interested in hearing what drastic measures others have taken.  (One frequent visitor/commenter on this blog has moved into an RV -please forgive me if your name escapes me at present).

Remember last summer when I embarked on a crusade to both eliminate the number of showers I took a week along with replacing shampoo with baking soda?

Well, I’ve pretty much decided, in the last month or so, that it isn’t working for me.  Partly because since November, I’ve decided not to shave my legs or armpits, which means that no matter how much deodorant I use, I’m stinky (actually, in truth, I’m a stinker even with cleanly shaven pits).  There’s nothing like snuggling up to the hubby and eliciting an “eeww” from him as I reach my arm around him and then a comment about whether I use deodorant or not.  This coming from someone with chronic halitosis, no less (which I accept for what it is, and kiss anyway!).

Not only that, I also started getting sores on my head when I started using baking soda, and since I know they were never a problem when I used shampoo, I can only assume that the baking soda is irritating my scalp in a way that shampoo doesn’t.  So, I’m shampooing again.  And showering every other day.  Long hot showers, because it’s bloody cold in our apartment – a word to the wise: bottom floor apts are cold, don’t waste your electricity bill on heat that rises to the neighbors!

I’m sharing shampoo with Nate; his pick after I informed him of parabens and laureth whatevers: ShiKai (they don’t test on non-human animals, yay!).  The sores seem to be abating.  I smell nicer, ish.

I’d been giving myself a hard time about giving up the baking soda; I so wanted to be the frugalista (or as one of my friends refers to me as – “the frugal genius” which I might point out I’m work in progress on that front, and don’t feel in any way particularly genius).  But, as always, I’m really just experimenting with what it means to meet tightwadness with living well, and in this case, I just wasn’t feeling the living well part of the deal.

So…I’m shampooing.

I found this book by Michael Fogler at the library, apparently much read, as the pages were very dogeared.  It was an easy read, a rather short little book that encourages the questions of why we work, whether or not we have to work, and how working impacts our lives, our environment, and our economy.

Much of it, I have already contemplated or learned about (like the fact that the law to legalize income tax was not fully ratified and therefore…well, I’ll let you draw your own conclusions).  What was new and what I really liked was the “The Green Triangle”, first introduced by author Ernest Callenbach.  Quoting Fogler:

“The three points of the triangle are called MONEY, HEALTH, and ENVIRONMENT…  Any time you do something beneficial for one of the points of the triangle, you will almost invariably do something beneficial for the other two…  The converse  of the above is also true.  Any time you do something that adversely effects one of the points of the triangle, it is very likely that the other two points will be adversely effected also.”

He goes on to suggest that a fourth point be added, COMMUNITY, and I would agree, since the reality is that community is much more important for our individual surviaval than our “American rugged individualism” point of view lends us to believe.

Fogler tackles the idea of Higher Income vs. Lower Expenses, which leads to the idea that if you have lower expenses, you don’t have to work as much (or at all, depending on your current financial situation).  This is very much the approach that I’ve tried to take with our expenses (although the food budget does need some attention!).

Nate and I have been talking a lot about his working less.  He’s practically a stranger to Seth now – just the other day I returned from the library to a very distraught Seth who had just woken up from his nap with Mommy nowhere to be found, and refusing the comfort of Daddy’s arms (fortunately, I arrived just in time because, in Nate’s words, “it was about to get ugly”).  So, I’ve decided (although I’ve not told Nate yet) to tweak the budget as far as it can get tweaked, while he suggests to his boss that he can do the same amount of work in 5-6 hours a day, instead of 8.

The main theme, I think, is that everyone benefits when they put their hands to something in their heart.  In other words, do what they love.  When I think about getting a job (because I occasionally freak out about how much debt we have and want to make it go away), I become stressed out.  Lately, I’ve been looking for something that would make me want to stay for longer than a month (after being in the Navy and not being able to quit, I take my ability to quit anything I don’t like VERY seriously).  I refuse to spend my energy doing something I don’t like and that doesn’t match my values (I will never work at Starbucks again!).  Some people might point out that I “have the most important job in the world” – that being a mother – but I wouldn’t insult myself and mothers around the world by using the word “job” to define what we do.  It’s work, meaningful, valuable work, and I don’t mind doing it for free.

Of course, one has to eat, be clothed, and sheltered.  Fogler gives examples of individuals (including himself) who have figured out a way to do what they love without jobs, and have all their needs fulfilled.

If anything, “Un-jobbing” does give you plenty to think about – how to cut expenses, how to live your values, how to find something you really love.  As Gandhi said, “Be the change you want to see in the world.”

In a conversation with some girlfriends, I was talking about how 95% of the food we buy is organic.  I haven’t been as fastidious with keeping up with how much we actually spend lately, so they were pretty astonished when I gave them the ballpark number of $400-$500/month.  I know that I could do better, and probably give them hope that they too, on their meager budgets, can also eat all organic.

One friend said that she’d rather save on food and use the extra money to pay off debt.  I get that.  But it also got me to thinking about the true cost of things.

There are a few reasons why I don’t budge on the organic issue (or for that matter shopping at New Seasons Market, a locally owned grocery store that sells mostly organic food, and is probably the only grocery store where one can find mostly grass-fed beef, without buying 1/2 a cow).  I know that my support of the organic food industry is vital to supporting other causes I also support – like local farmers, and sustainable, environmentally friendly practices.  I also know that the toxic load in human beings is substantial and want to limit that, keeping in mind that my health and well-being is my responsibility, not my HMO’s.  (Actually, we don’t have any health insurance right now, but you get the point).

My understanding of why our economy has taken the turn it has – a strange practice of infinite production with unlimited resources coupled with the continual printing of money then being loaned to the gov’t at a high interest rate, low wages/high cost of living, and corporate greed – makes me wonder if the price I’m paying for organics is what I’d actually be paying if we lived in a society that valued sustainable practices.

When I think about why something is cheaper at another place, I ask myself, “Why?”  The answer is as simple as thinking about charging someone for a sweater I’ve knitted myself vs. how much one might cost at Target.  Sometimes, the yarn alone costs $30-$60.  Then, if I were to charge minimum wage for hourly work, the cost of my time might be $50-$100, depending on who fast I could knit.  So, if I wanted to actually make a living knitting sweaters, I would have to charge over $160.  If you can get one at Target for $20, are you going buy mine?  Probably not.

But what is the future cost of producing a $20 sweater vs. a $160 one?  If you think of the origin of the materials, the tools used, the environmental impact alone should be enough to make you pause at the check out. What is the cost to one’s conscience?  I’m forever seeking balance, trying to appease my conscience, but at the same time, remain practical, since, money doesn’t grow on trees (no matter how much money the Fed prints).

It is true, I’m rather an idealist and purist.  I know that I’m not any more likely to stop factory farming, pesticide use, and slave wages any more than a vegetarian is going to stop animal cruelty by simply not eating meat.  But at the same time, I can hope that I’m one of many, and that perhaps together, we can.

I’ve been feeling rather guilty about the fact that I’ve written very little over the past few months.

Without going into the hoary details, I really need to allow myself not to write for a while, until inspiration returns (”Oh, wherefore art thou?”).

Until then, please feel free to peruse past articles…there’s not many, but enough to keep you occupied for a little while…