This week I submitted posts to only two carnivals: Best of Money and Money Stories. Didn’t make it in to the elite ten at BoM, but Green Panda Treehouse kindly included “Other People’s Pets” in this week’s Money Stories Carnival.
A bunch of good stories surfaced this week. Among them:
• Free Money Finance’s story of his (former, I hope) maniac boss • Money Smart Life is fighting a telephone prankster and figures the war will cost some money. • My Dollar Plan’s guest author Todd Campanella describes the benefits of delayed consumption.
Today MSN Smart Spending also featured a version of the other people’s pets story, where it stirred up some skeptical commentary. Thanks again, Karen!
And also today, It’s Frugal Being Green ran Funny’s guest post, an update on the food futures project.
Funny will host the Carnival of Money stories on August 3. Remember to send your posts to the carnival’s submissions page before then!
Does anyone know how to get liquid Ivory dish detergent off the floor? If so, will you please give me a clue in the comments?
To save on the wasteful amounts of detergent those squirt caps that come on detergent bottles dispense, I pour my detergent into a squirt bottle. One small squirt goes a very long way and makes a bottle of the stuff last forever.
Well, this morning, just as I was about to run out the door, I spotted one of those ONE MORE JOBS that need to be done right this minute: wash out the blender jar before the remains of the breakfast blendie petrified to it. Picked up the squirt bottle, grabbed the handle, and the thing fell apart. Before I could catch it, the bottle of detergent, now lidless, bounced across the counter, flew into the air, and splatted down on the floor. About 14 ounces of liquid goop burbled out, all over the tiled kitchen floor.
I used a roll of paper towels trying to soak up as much as possible. Then hauled out the bucket and tried to wipe it up with water. Every squeeze of the sponge into the bucket results in a bucketful of suds. And adding water to the gunk on the floor creates a slippery patch of slime—so slippery that when I’m down on hands and knees my knees slide out from under me!
Lordie, what a mess! This is even worse than the time I knocked a quart of paint off a ladder onto the shag carpet! At least paint-soaked rugs aren’t a menace to life and limb. This stuff is right in front of the sink, and if I slip in it and fall, that tile is freaking hard!
I’ve got to go to work. Having done the best I can to soak and sponge it up, I’m going to toss a throw rug over it to keep from breaking my neck until such time as I can figure out what to do. One idea I had is to slop water on it and then suck it up with the shop vac…trouble is, the kickboard around the floor is made of the same wood as the cabinets. It’s already gotten soapy water in behind it, which surely won’t do it any good. I’m afraid if I get a lot more water on that, it’ll wreck the stuff.
Today we present another guest post by Stephen Taddie, managing partner of Stellar Capital Management, LLC, located in Phoenix Arizona. In this essay, a quarterly report to investors, Steve observes that although the economy appears, by some indicators, to be on the mend, we may be about to experience an inflationary experience, and he explains why. Two other possibilities present themselves, neither of which is an impossible scenario. Full disclosure: Stellar is my financial manager.
If you stepped into an episode of Rod Serling’s Twilight Zone last New Year’s Eve and were isolated from newspapers, television, the Internet, and the obsession with valuing the daily gyrations in the economy and markets and then emerged from that alternate reality on July 1, what would you find? The S&P 500 was up about 2 percent to 920, the 10-year treasury bond yield rose by about 50 percent to 3.5 percent, economic activity as measured by the gross domestic product (GDP) fell about 3 percent, and nonfarm jobs in the U.S. dropped by over 3 million taking the unemployment rate to near 10 percent. In sum, a rather flat stock market, much higher interest rates, and a worse economy.
In last quarter’s commentary, “Déjà Vu or Something New,” we drew parallels to 1938 and suggested that the combination of regulatory change and massive stimulus provided a catalyst for stability, and that the tide should turn. Since then, the tide has halted its relentless ebb and has risen a bit to cover up some of the jagged rocks and sunken ships in the harbor. The sea looks much calmer now, but backward-looking economic data will continue to serve as a reminder of the past carnage. We will likely see a few more ships running aground as they attempt to navigate the still treacherous harbor. The sea captains are still searching for the elusive catalyst for growth that will create a rising tide and make the harbor more navigable for commerce. The months of debate on this topic on news channels and in professional journals has yielded no real evidence of growth, and has caused the equity markets to stall. The question lingers: “How long will we wallow around in a less bad economy?”
In our investment meetings, where Dick, John, Phil and I delve into the details of the economy and markets, we have been discussing three major themes: geographic and industry growth centers, the U.S. dollar, and inflation. Looking at current and projected U.S. economic growth rates, it’s clear that less bad economic news is not a very clear path to growth. Comparatively, Asia seems better positioned for growth than America or—for that matter—many other regions. Even though we would like to believe that the sun rises and sets on the U.S. economy, consumerism, while still a significant part of the U.S. economy, is unlikely to be a growth engine for us or the rest of the world until we create more jobs.
The sheer size of the stimulus monies available puts much of the U.S. economy’s fate in the hands of our policymakers and their handling of the Fed’s balance sheet. Three mutually exclusive outcomes related to the management of the national balance sheet are 1) inflation, where the Federal Reserve (Fed) does not shrink its balance sheet fast enough and eventually monetizes the government deficit, flirting with an inflationary spiral; 2) Goldilocks II, where the Fed gets it right, shrinking its balance sheet while methodically avoiding a monetization of the deficit, and achieving growth without inflation; or 3) deflation, where the Fed shrinks its balance sheet too quickly, pulling the rug out from under the economy, worsening the recession and flirting with depression.
There is as much debate about inflation as there is about finding the elusive catalyst for growth. At times it has been a politically charged debate, with Republicans forecasting that the liberal Democrats’ runaway spending programs will cause inflation, while the Democrats blame the Republicans for getting us into this jam in the first place. Entertaining as those debates may be, it is hard for us to fathom that the U.S. economy can avoid an inflationary bias with the amount of stimulus monies currently circulating and three times that amount still ready to be pumped into the economy, plus the admitted bias of policymakers fearing deflation more than inflation.
The rational arguments for “no inflation” are mostly based on our economy having no upward wage pressure and plenty of spare industrial capacity…which are very good points. Our concerns, however, lie in the worth of the U.S. dollar versus the currencies of our trading partners, its effect on the interest rates U.S. debt issuers must pay to compensate investors for that weakness, the higher prices consumers might have to pay for the goods we import, and the additional cost that manufacturers might have to pay for raw and intermediate materials. This may not make headlines until later in the year, because the year-over-year comparisons for commodity prices still reflect the sky high levels of last summer and do not yet flash the warning signs of inflation. As we move into the fall and winter, the differences will narrow and, at current levels, will show price inflation by the turn of the year. The Bernanke Fed has proven its mettle, and policymakers as a whole have done a good job of coordinating efforts. We hope the policymakers “get it right,” but we are still looking for inflation to begin increasing in 2010, with the Fed following—rather than leading—the market with regard to increasing short-term interest rates. This should yield a scenario somewhere between inflation and Goldilocks II—call it “inflated Goldilocks.” We believe the U.S. economy will see a return to growth. It will not be a V-shaped “total recovery,” but instead will be a less leveraged, slower-growth version of its previous self, as those of us who weren’t fortunate enough to be in the Twilight Zone don’t have enough memories of the meltdown to last a lifetime.
The steep slide in the stock market that was reinitiated during the first quarter of this year was the straw that broke the back of both individual and institutional investors, keeping many on the sidelines, and it will have lasting emotional effects. The catalyst for stability in March spurred a combination of wishful thinking and less gloom and doom, and the resulting rally pushed the S&P 500 to a 35 percent advance from the market low in early March. To advance significantly past this point, some of these wishes will have to start coming true. Just as many did not see the depth of the downturn in the cards two years ago, many will also not see the potential for more a significant upturn either. The twist woven into this episode might be that the individual emerging from the Twilight Zone remains oblivious to the meltdown and the subsequent exuberance of the stock markets and, absent that emotional baggage, is able to better evaluate the economy for what it is.
Most frugalists and gardening enthusiasts seem to feel that growing vegetables in the backyard (or on your apartment balcony) is a good cost-saving strategy. But I wonder.
After having tried to grow vegetables, with moderate success, for the past three years, I’m beginning to think the cost of preparing not-very-fertile soil (or of buying big pots and filling them with commercial soil, or a combination of commercial soil, clayey dirt, and compost), fertilizing, composting, and watering outweighs—maybe even far outweighs—the cost of buying organic vegetables in an upscale grocery store.
Consider: before the great bee fiasco of aught-eight, I had a composter given to me some years ago by La Bethulia. The price of this doughty contraption at Gaiam, where she bought it, is around $200. You can get something very similar at Amazon.com for $123. This was what got me started trying to grow veggies in the backyard. I once had a very successful organic garden, back when I was a young thing. But that was in another time and another place.
Gifted with the Gaiam composter, I decided to try again. And again. And again.
A small, rocky flowerbed by the pool has served to grow a few hardy herbs, chard, some puny carrots and beets. Except for the thyme and the chard, few of the plants thrived. A previous owner filled the bed with gravel, which I shoveled out and carried away…but no amount of shoveling has ever gotten rid of all the stones. As the weeks pass, more pebbles work their way to the surface, so at no time is this old planting bed free of rocks. Digging compost and commercial soil into the dirt doesn’t help significantly. Tomatoes absolutely will not grow there. Nor will they grow in any of the other four flowerbeds in the backyard. Within weeks of being introduced to this spot, pea vines poked their little green heads out of the ground, looked around, and then keeled over and died. The chard, though, did very well.
So did the water company: $128 at this time last year; $108 last month; $80 bills during the (very wet!) winter.
Knowing this spot was too small for the butternut squash I’d decided to grow from seeds scavenged out of a grocery-store specimen, in the spring I bought a big plastic pot at Costco—price was $21.65, according to Quicken. At Home Depot, I spent $18.33 for another pot and dirt to accommodate some cantaloupe seeds. Couple weeks later, another $3.98 covered some hose connectors. I had fertilizer, hoses, and sprinklers on hand.
Not counting the last three items, we’re into the squash and cantaloupe for $43.96, plus the cost of the water, which I expect by now has come to around $30 or so. These plants have to be watered every. single. day if they are to survive 115-degree heat. Even if we figure a more conservative $20 for the water, the squash, the cantaloupe, and some nearby potted tomatoes (whose fruit fried on the vine), chives, onions (dead as onion-flavored doornails), parsley (gone to seed), and basil (the only plant that’s really thrived—also by dint of once- or twice-daily watering) have run up a bill of $63.96.
So far, the squash has set two infant fruits, one of which withered and died on a day when I didn’t get outside to water before noon. One five-inch-long butternut squash survives. The plant still makes big, nifty yellow flowers, but none of them come to anything. The cantaloupe has brought forth nary a melon. The tomatoes set some fruit, but they turned to tomato soup on the vine as soon as the weather heated up. I harvested two of these, neither of which was very good to eat. Onions cooked in the pot. Chives are hanging in there, just. The basil, as basil is wont to do here, has run amok, and that’s nice. But…uhm…how much basil, really, can you eat?
What we have here, folks, is a $64 butternut squash.
One, count it, one (1) squash
IMHO, you could buy a heckuva lot of fancy organic squash at Whole Foods for sixty-four buckolas.
Well, don’t take my word for it. Let’s examine the experience of more gifted gardeners living in a balmier climate. I recently came across The Boston Food Garden, the chronicle of a gardening couple who, by the looks of it, have had good success with their project.
By May 26, they’ve spent $208 on this summer’s garden. These are evidently experienced gardeners who probably have learned the most efficient ways to plant, likely already have prepared their own compost, and who probably own a collection of gardening tools. A little over a month later, on June 19, they harvest $25 worth of vegetables. They’re beautiful—nay, enviable veggies. They’re organic. They’re a real accomplishment. And it will take our couple 8.32 such harvests to recoup their $208.
Will they get eight and a third harvests during a Massachusetts growing season? Sure, if the garden yields about four harvests a month, assuming a New England September brings an end to veggie lifetimes. It might produce that much; maybe even more. But meanwhile, they’ve put in an enormous amount of work…and again, we don’t know what they’ll spend on water, fertilizer, composting, and various organic schemes to beat back marauding insects. Nor do we know how much time they will spend in the garden, or the potential earning value of that time. All those things will add significantly to the initial $208 investment.
Okay, okay! I concede that in addition to the satisfaction of growing your own (which is worth a lot) and the opportunity to grow some unusual and heirloom varieties unavailable at even the swellest of Whole Foods or farmer’s markets, the home gardener does her part to save the planet by cutting the amount of diesel and airline fuel needed to haul food to market. And that also is worth a great deal.
But still. From a purely selfish point of view—how much it costs you as an individual to buy food at a store vs. how much it costs to grow it in the backyard—you could buy an awful lot of organic butternut squash for $64, and an awful lot of fresh strawberries, peas, and greens for $208.
Proprietor Carrie atIt’s Frugal Being Green kindly invited me to contribute a guest post, to help fill in while she’s out of town. So I’ve offered an update on the “food futures” project. It should go up tomorrow, July 27. Be sure to visit, and while you’re there, don’t fail to explore the entire nicely organized and interesting site.
If you have a pool, by now you’ve probably figured out why people who live in houses with pools say the next house won’t have one. Maintenance is a day-to-day work in progress. A large work in progress. A lot of work… In progress, always.
One of the pool owner’s least favorite tasks is sweeping down the walls. Miss a few days, and you’re likely to get a fine green coating of algae, especially when the weather’s really warm. An even less beloved job is scrubbing the tilework around the water line.
The one on the left is best.
Here’s a strategy that eliminates brushes, wands, scouring pads, and sweat. Get yourself a squirt nozzle for the garden hose—the small, nonadjustable variety that does nothing but make a hard, sharp needle-like stream. The bigger ones that adjust from a fine spray to a sidewalk-washing squirt don’t work as effectively for this job.
Attach it to the hose and turn the water on full blast. First spray off the tiles. If it’s warm enough to get into the water, drag the hose in with you, and you can actually knock off a light calcium deposit by holding the nozzle a few inches from the tile and slowly working the spray back and forth.
Then you’ll find that lo! You can easily wash the dirt and settled leaves off the steps and seat. And if you hold the nozzle parallel to the pool’s wall and swing the hose back and forth, it will wash all the dust and algae right off the wall.
A hose and spray nozzle work better for this job than a pool brush on a wand, because you can get into curves, run along the joints between the steps and the floor, and wash off the brightwork around underwater lights and ladders, the joints around the outside of water valves, and those gadgets used to hold volleyball nets.
In the summertime, you need to add water to make up for evaporation, and so washing down the walls and tile with a hose and nozzle kills two birds with one stone: you can clean and refill the pool at once. This technique gets the pool walls very, very clean, and instead of being a tedious chore, it’s actually kinda fun.
Caveat: don’t let loose of the hose inside the pool while water is running. The hose and brass nozzle will snake back and forth; if the nozzle strikes the plaster, it could cause damage. And of course, you should never let a child do this unsupervised, even one who swims well.