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Frugality

Happy Hoarder’s Handyman Hint! Frugal Junk Use

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Make that “handyperson hint.” 😉 For the first time in recorded history, a piece of the junk that’s hoarded in the garage actually came in handy! It just became part of a hand-crafted fancy-Dan paper towel holder. A frugal fancy-Dan paper towel holder: today’s out-of-pocket was nothing.

Trying to find places to stash the Lifetime Supply of Costco Paper Towels, I had one roll left over and realized the hated plastic paper-towel holder over the washer area, installed and abandoned by Satan and Proserpine, was empty. Problem is, like all cheapie grocery-store plastic paper-towel holders, the thing won’t hold a roll of paper towels, especially if you have the temerity to try to tear a towel off the roll. Every time a roll of paper towels falls off, it tumbles into the utility sink below, which is often full of water. That’s why the thing has been empty for a long time.

OldPaperTowelHolder
True Junk

Out of the blue, a lightning bolt of inspiration: if a person had a pair of those wooden curtain rod hangers, the kind that come with 1970s- and 80s-style wooden dowel curtain rods, said person could attach them to the wall, cut a piece of curtain-rod doweling to fit, scoot it through the towels’ cardboard tube, and…well. You get the idea. Not to say voilà!

Interestingly, I happened to have a pair of pretty ugly wooden curtain rod holders, stashed inside a dusty shoebox under a hoard of old wooden curtain rings that somehow just never quite worked out.

Not only that, but an old wood-dowel curtain rod, part of the didn’t-work-out project, was collecting dust atop the garage cabinets. And I also happened to have a saw…

DustyCurtainRod

The holes that Satan drilled and countersank in the drywall were not far enough apart to accommodate a paper-towel roll between the inch-wide curtain rod holders. But there’s a lot of electric and plumbing where the plastic thing is hanging. So I decided to use the screw hole he’d put on the right side, which really is dangerously close to the pipes that go to the sink, and then drill new holes on the left, where I think (hope) there are fewer obstructions.

Attached the wooden hanger things to the wall, leaving plenty of room to hang the roll of paper towels.

Sawed off 20 inches of the doweling (could’ve made it shorter but am not going to do it over again right this minute). Drilled a hole in the center of the newly cut-off end. Removed the finial from rod’s long remainder and screwed it into the new hole. And…

WoodenPaperTowelRod

It works! The paper towel roll fits, exactly as promised, over the dowel. To reload, all you have to do is unscrew one of the finials, take off the empty cardboard tube, slide a new roll onto the dowel, and reattach the finial. Not bad for a garage, eh?

FinishedPaperTowelRod

Don’t ask about the wiring draped over the washer faucets! It’s better than the Romex Satan had draped back and forth across the garage door opener chain!

This was strictly a spur-of-the-moment job. If I were going to make a paper towel holder for the kitchen, I’d set the curtain-rod hangers closer together, so they’d just clear a standard roll. And then I’d cut the rod so that it would fit more snugly.

Sometimes I’ve wished I had a paper towel holder in the bathroom. It occurs to me that you could replace the metal hardware-store towel rods with lash-ups like this for your bath towels, and then add a matching paper towel holder. Depending on your decor, of course. And your ambition.

Revise That Budget!

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Summertime, and the living is…darned scary! With no real steady pay flowing from the community college into the money bin, I get nervous, even when I know very well that the vast emergency fund sitting in the credit union will cover a full year’s worth of expenses. To start with, I don’t want to use the emergency fund for day-to-day expenses, and to end with, I’d really like to stay within the $5,739 budget (Social Security + Fidelity drawdown + leftover money from the low-cost winter months) I figure will cover me during the long, hungry summer. To do that, I see I’m going to have to revise my budget…mightily downward.

There’s not a thing I can do about the $1,240/month nondiscretionary budget: the utility bills aren’t going away, and they can’t go unpaid. And while during the winter costs came in way under that budget because utilities were low, this summer they probably will bust the budget. The highest bills will hit in August, when payment for July water and electric use comes due; I expect those costs to exceed the $125 and $225 I’ve budgeted for them, respectively. Last August I had a $257 power bill, and the utility company is socking us with an 8%+ increase this year.

The only part of the budget with any give at all is for nondiscretionary spending: food, household expenses, clothing, vet bills, dental bills, gasoline, yard and house repairs, and everything else.

After I was laid off, I cut that budget from $1,500 to $800 a month. So far, so good: since Canning Day, I’ve managed to stay on track every month but May, when I had to pay for the glasses and the clothing extravaganza.

Now the plan is to cut discretionary spending from $800 to $500.

Fifty-seven hundred and thirty-nine dollars—the amount I have to see me through the summer—amounts to $1,830 a month when prorated over the whole summer. But $1,240 nondiscretionary costs plus $800 discretionary spending come to a total $2,040 in monthly spending: a $210/month shortfall.

So, I figure if I can cut $300 a month from the discretionary budget, there should be enough to get by until teaching income returns. Even if I don’t reach that goal—which I probably won’t, because it’s pretty extreme and because every time you’re short of money every damn thing in sight breaks and the dog gets sick—if I can come close, I’ll make it through the summer without eating very far into the emergency fund.

Wow! A $300-a-month budget cut! How do I plan to accomplish this?

• Cut back on food. The beans are already soaking in the slow cooker’s crock pot. I have some beef in the freezer, a fair amount of frozen fish and shellfish, a lifetime supply of pasta, a giant container of rice, and a stack of canned salmon in the pantry. I will need to buy some fresh produce and dairy, but otherwise I mostly can get by for a month or two by eating what’s on the shelves and in the freezer.

• Conserve gasoline. I’m trying not to use the car except on the once-weekly day I have to schlep to the campus to for a course preparation meeting. On that day, I’ll do grocery shopping and any other errands that are along the homeward trail.

• Buy nothing other than food unless it absolutely can’t be avoided. No clothes, no booze, no gardening stuff, no meals out, no electronic doodads, no movies, no nothin’.

• Find free ways to entertain myself. This includes hikes, long doggy walks, swimming, TV (broadcast, o’course) and freebie video downloads, and socializing with friends.

{sigh} It’ll be a challenge. That’s about the best I can say for it.

Beans-soaking

How a Frugal Find Helped End a Friendship

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Square-plates

LOL! That decorative arrangement with the black and green square plates shown in my last post reminds me of the episode that probably marked the beginning of the end of a very close friendship.

The woman who dubbed me “Funny about Money” (not knowing I could overhear her speaking into La Maya’s telephone answering machine) had wildly expensive tastes. One day she and I were cruising a wildly upscale shopping center when we came across a tony interior decor store that was going out of business. We each grabbed a bunch of stuff that, at “discounted” prices, still cost a great deal more than it was worth. She was taken by those stone fruits and bought three of them at near full price. I spotted a few that were chipped or unnoticeably cracked and talked the salesman into giving them to me for next to nothing—in fact, one of them, he gave to me for free.

My friend then found two square plates, one black and one green. They bore some “artist’s” signature on the back. Arranging the fake fruit atop the plates created a nice effect, and so she bought the damn things for an astonishing price. As I recall, she paid over 100 bucks apiece. These she took home and arranged atop her dining-room buffet, to handsome effect.

Well, I wanted something to put my fake fruits on, too.

I studied those plates and thought…hmh. They looked mighty familiar.

A day later I betook myself to Cost Plus/World Market, where what should I find—on sale!—but those two square plates you see up there. I got them for under five bucks apiece.

Reader, those two plates are identical to the unholy expensive square plates my friend bought at the upscale design store. The only difference is that mine are not signed on the bottom by someone nobody ever heard of.

Heeee! Was she peeved!

I never told her what I paid for them, but she did know I got them at the low-brow Cost Plus, home of the world’s largest collection of $8 table wines. Our relationship cooled into the frosty zone after that, and within a couple of months she cut me off without explanation. I assume it was because of the $5 plates, which in her mind would have hugely devalued the “art” she imagined she was buying. That, and having embarrassed herself with the “funny about money” remark.

😆

Kids & Costs: Another point of view

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Guest Post by Frugal Scholar

Since I took issue with Funny’s** premise—that having children is intrinsically and unavoidably expensive—and since I promised to write something for her, here is a short version of what I would say to prospective parents.  First of all, I’ve read Elizabeth Warren’s books and articles. She is truly a voice for the American middle-class. I love her. In one of her books, The Two-Income Trap,  she avers that American middle class folks are in a bind: they MUST buy houses in neighborhoods with good school districts. These houses are pricy and come with high property taxes. Hence, both parents must work. Hence if one parent loses his or her job: disaster! This book, by the way, was written before the bursting of the housing bubble, or, as Funny (or I) would put it, the Bush Economy. [uh-oh! Evan, hang onto your hat! 😉)

When I read Warren’s book, a library copy as befits a frugal type like myself, I found myself saying NO. It doesn’t have to be that way. I feel there is always a choice.

Before I moved into the pricey neighborhood, I would check out the schooling in less desirable areas. Often, the schools are better than one would think. Or there are enrichment programs. I am skeptical of school rankings, incidentally, since they seem to correlate with the wealth and education of the parents. So that is what you get in the “better” school districts.

If the schools are really unacceptable, I would consider homeschooling. Why not? The money you save by living in a cheaper house could obviate the need for one parent to work. I would hate to do this myself, but there are many passionate homeschoolers.

If you decide you MUST live in the great neighborhood, why not rent an apartment or buy a too-small house? As anyone with kids in college knows, the years fly by. A little discomfort in the service of a greater good is a fine lesson to be teaching your children.

As a person who is hardwired for frugality, I run through similar processes for almost every decision I make, from the trivial (which tomato sauce?) to the momentous (which college?). As a general rule, I run a value-test on everything: with two choices, test the cheaper one first. That is why my son did soccer locally and didn’t go for the expensive and time-consuming traveling team. Why? He wasn’t that interested or good. That is why my daughter took a very basic ballet class at the local YMCA rather than at the upscale studio. Why? Ditto. Yet when it came to the summer, we opted for an expensive sleep away camp for both. Why? Because as members of a minority religion, we felt it was important for the children to get a sense of their culture.

I hardly need to say that other families will make different decisions, owing to the different talents and interests of the kids. I also happen to believe that most children are over-scheduled these days. That belief fits into my  general laziness.

My happy memories are of trips to the Children’s Museum, Aquarium, and Audubon Zoo—we were members of all and went a lot. Doing art together (I splurged on top-quality materials). Cooking together. Taking walks. Reading. Going to FREE concerts. We spent a lot on trips to faraway grandparents. And, through the years, I kept waiting for my children to get expensive.

**OOPS—just noticed that the post to which I took issue is a GUEST POST. I don’t know what Funny thinks.

(LOL! Funny thinks kids cost even more than pets. And that’s a lot!)

Don’t miss these great posts from Frugal Scholar:

Paula Begoun’s Skincare Recommendations: Anti-aging et al
Kitchen Remodel on a Budget: Beginnings
The Parental Safety Net

Shopping in the Commissary: Would it save anything?

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A day or so ago, SDXB clued me that Luke Air Force Base has changed its rule about bringing guests into the commissary: your sidekick no longer has to be a certifiable family member. As we were discussing the coming tax on food, which, when it goes into effect on March 1, will hike my grocery costs by 2 percent, he suggested I drive out there with him to do my major shopping trips.

Sounds like a good deal, eh? Not only would I evade the regressive food tax, I’d also weasel out of the much higher 8.3 percent gouge charged on all other purchases made inside the Phoenix city limits. On the other hand, I’d have to drive all the way out to Sun City to meet SDXB. He would drive us to the base (since his car has the AF parking sticker), so that would save some gas…but still, according to Mapquest, SDXB lives 15.91 miles from my house.

Let’s think about that.

In a recent shopping trip to Costco, purveyor of the lion’s share of my food stockpile and household goods, I spent $38.26 on groceries and $109 on household goods, dog supplies, clothing, and the like.

Tax on the $109 came to $9.05. The proposed 2 percent tax on the groceries would add 77 cents to that, for a total tax bite of $9.82.

On a good day when prices are low, gasoline costs about $2.50 a gallon around here. My car makes about 18 miles per gallon. Thus a round trip to SDXB’s house will cost, optimistically, $4.45.

So, my net savings on the tax will be $9.82 – $4.45: a grandiose $5.37.

For that munificent amount, I will have spent at least half the day driving out to Sun City, riding from there to the base, waiting around while he enjoys himself shopping in the BX, the commissary, the Class 6, store, and getting a haircut. Somewhere along the line we’ll get hungry, and so will eat either at his house or at the relatively clean Burger King on the base. This will morph a 90-minute shopping trip (during which I would normally hit Target as well as Costco and Costco’s gas pumps) into a five-hour trek.

In other words, I would “earn” about $1.07 an hour in savings on the tax bill.

LOL! Well, shopping on the base might be worth it if you lived close enough that you didn’t have to burn much gas to get there. But unless you enjoy the serenade of F-16 afterburners (amazingly, some people do!), that’s not a very practical proposition.

Pour moi, it doesn’t look like it’s worth the effort.

We don’t need no steenking laundry detergent…

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Frugal Scholar, who must read everything of value on the entire Internet, stumbled upon an amazing remark in, of all places, the Wall Street Journal. In one article, Seventh Generation founder Jeffrey Hollender remarks that it’s surprising most people use laundry detergent at all: “You don’t even need soap to wash most loads,” he says. The truth is, it’s the action of the agitator, not the chemicals, that gets most clothes clean.

Uhmmm… Say what, my Captain of Industry?

Most of us have figured out that we need only a fraction of the amount we were brought up to pour into the washer, partly because newer detergents are far more efficient and partly because you don’t really need even the recommended amount. But…no detergent at all?

Well, of course, the gantlet was down.

Straightaway to the garage, stately home of the washer and dryer! Mustering all my nerve, I laundered two small loads with zero detergent, one of whites and one of coloreds. The whites load included a few pieces of underwear; the colored, a shirt I’d worn for a day of gardening.

The result? Pretty interesting.

Everything came out looking clean. Minor stains that I thought would come through unscathed actually washed out. This pair of fluffy cotton socks, which I wear around the house and patio as slippers, was pretty grimy when I put them in the washer. They came out looking exactly the same as they do when they’re washed with detergent.

These socks, which are three or four years old, always have a little gray on the bottom—no amount of detergent or bleach gets it out. If anything, they actually look a little better than the last time I ran them through the washer.

Peeking into the machine during the “wash” cycle, I found the water looked exactly as dirty as it does when I’ve added detergent, only without the suds:

The “rinse” cycle ran clear as tapwater.

The Sniff Test: By and large, all of the freshly washed clothing came out with an odor: it smelled of clean water! Because I didn’t want to heat-set any residual stains into the whites, I line-dried those; the coloreds went into the dryer. When fully dry, most of the pieces were fresh-smelling and free of either body odor or yukky commercial factory perfume. I use a perfume-free detergent, anyway, so there was no way the clothes would have retained any scent from previous launderings.

A couple of pairs of undies retained a very slight odor. I ran one of these through again with the colored clothing, and after a second drubbing in the washer, it came out completely odor-free.

Isn’t that something!

Conclusion: Because I’m not willing to consume the amount of water needed to run my underwear through the wash twice each week, I would put a small amount of detergent in with those. But apparently most outer clothes that have not absorbed much B.O. and that are not excessively dirty can indeed be washed in plain, clean water, without benefit of factory chemicals.