Coffee heat rising

“You Are How You Caffeinate”

Hurry! Buy me for Christmas!

Hang onto your hat, Frugal Scholar! 😀 Yesterday evening while perusing the Times, I was reminded of Frugal’s recent post on small recurring costs, in which she remarks with amazement on the recent coffee pod phenomenon. This increasingly popular method for preparing a cup of coffee—just one!—entails making room for a coffeemaker the size of an infant stegosaurus and feeding it expensively prepared, vacuum-sealed single-serving “K-cups” of coffee grounds. “Do these have any redeeming features?” wonders she.

What's not to love?

Hilariously, there are caffeine delivery systems that make the coffee pod look like the soul of common sense. Almost. NYT writer Frank Bruni’s column on the subject is one of the funniest damn things I’ve ever read. Shamed by foodie friends over his reliance on his trusty Mr. Coffee (to which he had recourse after a Chemex spat in his eye), Bruni goes in search of a tonier, less bourgeois method of brewing an acceptable cup of java. Working against him: a burning desire not to have to work very hard over his morning eye-opener.

Maybe better not to know...

Along the way, he discovers things that look like something from a chemistry lab (well—the Chemex looks a bit that way, but these contraptions are straight from Isaac Newton’s alchemy lab). He learns that hot water may not be dumped unceremoniously over one’s freshly ground, shade-grown, fair-traded coffee beans, but must be drizzled lovingly through the grounds, only after one has released their “bloom” with a delicate pre-pouring through a carefully rinsed and placed filter.

Poetry in glass, plastic, and stainless

He also learns that the French press, my preferred way to generate a decent cup, is teetering on the edge of obsolescence! Heaven help us.

All I want for Christmas is a lifetime supply of French press carafes. They can reside in the closet with my stashes of incandescent lightbulbs and dishwasher tabs that still wash dishes. A French press produces something akin to cowboy coffee: strong, thick, bracing, and richly flavored. It does not turn the brew to battery acid by holding the coffee over a hot plate for hours. Nor does it have to: believe me, coffee made this way will not sit around long enough to get cold.

After what must have been days of journalistic research, Bruni arrives at a conclusion that surely will warm the cockles of Frugal’s heart: “For me personally, was the pleasure of a higher grade of coffee worth the price? In this instance, couldn’t I depart from the orthodoxy (nay, tyranny) of the artisanal? . . . The current generation of automatic drip machines preserves the [Mr. Coffee] tradition while improving, I’m told, on the product. Gastronomic guilt be damned, I just may put one on my Christmas list.”

Get it here, without having to take out a loan!

The ultimate frugalist’s candle

Aren’t these cool?

FakeCandles

Literally! Those candles are burning with a flame that doesn’t melt wax. Real candles: fake flames.

I found a lifetime supply of LED-driven fake tea candles at Costco for about 18 bucks. Thought I could put them in the front windows to make some sorta low-key Christmas decorations, but they’re not tall enough to be seen from the outside.

Lurking in the back of a closet, though, were some old pillar candles burned about halfway down. Idea: set the fake tea candle down inside the hollow pillar candle and stepped back a ways.

As long as you’re not looking down into the candle from the top, this lash-up looks alarmingly like a real candle with a real flame flickering down inside it. Perfect for a mantel or maybe a bookshelf.

Intrigued by the possibilities, I put one in a glass Kosta Boda tea light holder. The LED is a little dim for authenticity, unless the room is completely dark. Then I came up with the idea of setting it in a short French canning jar. Because the jar’s thick, curvy walls distort light, the thing looks amazingly like a real tea candle sitting in there! Perfect for the table on the back porch:

FakeCandleInAJar

In the dark, the camera doesn’t do justice to the effect, I’m afraid…

FakeJarredCandleInTheDark

Is that or is that not silly? Since Costco peddles a lifetime supply not only of fake tea lights but also of fake tea light batteries, what you get for your 18 dollah is rescued pillar candles that will last forever, or nearly so. And enough fake votive lights to experiment with every crazy mood lighting scheme you can dream up.

CostcoFakeCandles

You can buy fake LED tea lights online at Amazon.com, but I’m not seeing any quite like Costco’s, though some are rechargeable. The Amazon specimens all have a little fake flame sticking up like a leprechaun’s finger in the middle. The Costco set has quite a few with a fake wick set down inside the plastic (but waxy-feeling!) fake candle, which looks surprisingly realistic from a distance, especially when it’s tucked down inside a container.

Amazon has some wonderfully tacky versions, though: serious kitsch! Take, for example (please!), these marvelous underwater colored fake candles:

Amazing, huh? One admiring customer reported, “The LED lights are awesome. We put them inside fish bowls filled with marbles and water and they lasted the whole night.”

Lucky goldfish!

😀 🙄 😀

Want to buy that car? Don’t test-drive it!

Our friend Cary Lockwood, the automotive guru and local radio show personality, was chatting over the phone the other day when I happened to mention that I might soon be in the market for a new (or less old) car. He made a startling—and IMHO startlingly brilliant—suggestion: once you’ve narrowed choices down to two or three cars that you could be serious about buying, don’t test-drive them. Instead, rent them.

He pointed out that, in the first place, a ten-minute spin around the block and up the freeway is no way to determine whether the car fits your needs or to become familiar with its handling characteristics. And second, it’s hard to evaluate a vehicle with a salesman hanging over your shoulder pitching the thing. The test drive is one of several tools car sellers use to pressure you into buying. Even when you know this, most people easily succumb to the emotional appeal of a shiny new vehicle.

Cary observes that today’s vehicles are built to run, relatively trouble-free, for ten years or more, if you take care of them. The smart frugalist figures that the longer you can drive a car, the less it costs over the long run. I, for one, plan to drive a car for ten years or until it falls apart, whichever comes last. Because it’s a big investment and you’ll have to live with it for a long time, doesn’t it make sense to invest a few extra dollars and some time to be sure you’re making the right decision?

Rental costs for a Prius run around $40 a day—maybe less with a coupon or corporate account. The New York Times calls hybrid rental prices “excessive,” but it’s hard to assess the truth of this. Car rental companies play coy about pricing; I haven’t found one that will quote a price unless you sign up to reserve a vehicle. A survey of various sites suggests rental rates in general run  from around $38 to $150 a day. Forty or fifty bucks for an entire day of test-driving time looks reasonable when you intend to hang onto a vehicle for upwards of a decade.

Cary suggests that you take plenty of time to test the air-conditioning, the seating capacity and comfort, the gasoline mileage, and the car’s handling characteristics. You might even consider renting it for a three-day weekend, giving time to drive it under different conditions and maybe take it on the open road for a day trip. Here are a few things to check out:

• How quickly and effectively does the air-conditioning cool the car?
• If you have kids, does the interior accommodate your car seats? Don’t guess: install the car seats and observe how they fit and how difficult it is to get the car seat and the child in and out of the vehicle.
• Does the trunk or storage area hold a week’s worth of groceries? How about your golf clubs or skis?
• Can all the drivers in your family see the speedometer and other dials clearly when the driver’s seat is adjusted to fit them?
• Get in and out of the drivers’ and the passengers’ seats several times. How easy (or difficult) is it to get in and out of the vehicle?
• How responsive is the steering?
• How well does the vehicle take curves?
• Does the car accelerate fast enough to enter a freeway safely?
• With the car moving at the legal speed limit, brake hard. Observe the time it takes to bring the car to a halt and the car’s performance during braking.
• Make a U-turn. How large is the vehicle’s turning radius?
• Find a bumpy stretch of road. How’s the comfort factor on a rough surface?
• If you decide to drive the car out of town, how does the comfort in the driver’s and the passengers’ seats hold up over the long haul?
• What, really, is the gasoline mileage?

While many of these tests can be done during a standard car dealer’s test drive, several require time and the absence of a pesky salesman. Renting the model you’d like to buy is a smart way to go.

The Fun of Thrift Stores

The following is a guest post by Crystal at Budgeting in the Fun Stuff. Her blog covers living expenses, saving for your future, and the fun stuff along the way.

I love shopping at Goodwill. I don’t shop for clothes often—once every year or so—but when I do, I go to Kohl’s, Dillard’s, and Goodwill.  Oh, and Shirt Woot, but that’s more for the humor than the shirts themselves.  🙂

Kohl’s has my favorite line of tops (Dana Blumenthal).  Dillard’s carries my favorite line of work slacks (Investments).  Goodwill is just for fun.

There’s just something about browsing rows and rows of clothing that I don’t have to feel guilty for wanting to buy.  I’ve only bought one t-shirt and four blouses over the past 3 years, but all of those are still my favorites and cost less than $25 altogether.  Two of the blouses make great work tops!

My first trip to those lovely aisles was with a friend about 3 years ago.  We had a ton of fun trying on 30 or 40 pieces each and coming out of the dressing area to get the thumbs up or down from each other.  It was also fun to think of the outfits we could easily put together for friends and family members that weren’t there—the tackier the better, lol.

I thought that Goodwill would have worn-out stuff that was all from before I was born, but I was pleasantly surprised.  Sure, there are some old styles, but there is also a lot of new stuff too.  Not all tops come with shoulder pads.  🙂

My favorite Goodwill blouse is easy to clean and fades from a tan to black from shoulder to stomach so it looks elegant and works great for a woman with a little fluff (like me).

For guys, the fashions don’t seem to change as much so there seems to be more general options.  My husband would be fine with almost any of it, but his wardrobe is complete for right now.

Have you ever shopped at Goodwill or a different thrift store? If you have, how did you like it?  If you haven’t, would you consider it?

Estate Sale Coup

Can you believe I found this at an estate sale?

La Maya and I were doing some recreational estate-saling the other day when we came across this throw at an otherwise unexceptional site.

Said she: “This looks hand-made.”

“Couldn’t be,” said I. “There’s another one over there, across the room, just like it. They must be convincing machine-made replicas from China.”

About then, along comes the lady who’s running the sale.

“The owner,” says she, “sits in front of the television and knits these as a hobby. She says it’s her ‘therapy.’ She just keeps making them, and she wants to get rid of them. She’s selling them for what the materials cost.” The price was $35.

On closer inspection, you could tell that $35 really was about her cost. The wool is very nice—extremely soft and warm. The throw above doesn’t appear to have been blocked, but it would be easy enough to do that yourself with a flat piece, and probably wouldn’t cost much to have it done professionally. The work is very nice…

There were four of them scattered around the house. I wish I’d bought more than one now, to give one as a gift. My mother used to knit and crochet—she was very good at it. And while buying the yarn was a lot cheaper than buying a hand-knit sweater at a shop, for sure good wool costs something.

At any rate, it’s going to be wonderful next winter, when the inside of the house gets chilly. I can’t wait to curl up on the sofa under it.

You, Too, Can Score This Loot!

Estate sales generally are better than yard sales. They happen when someone dies, moves, or just decides to clear out a lifetime’s collection of stuff that’s too good to give away for free. These days, foreclosures make for an ongoing bonanza. You can prospect online at this site: just click on your state and then your city for a list of upcoming sales. Estate sales are conducted by professionals who are in the business of organizing housefuls of junk and pricing the goods to sell. Often these outfits will post photos, so you get a good feel for whether a sale has anything to offer that interests you.

Just now I’m looking at one that pictures a practically new front-loading washer & dryer set, a high-end stainless-steel dishwasher, and a stainless-steel bottom-freezer fridge with French-style doors. These people are also selling what looks like an antique love seat upholstered in pristine gold brocade fabric, if that’s your taste.

Many of the dealers maintain e-mail lists. If you find a dealer that consistently has good sales and good prices, ask to be included on their list—they will send you notices of upcoming sales, often with photos. There’s an outfit here, for example, called Angels in the Attic. They must be somewhat selective about what jobs they’ll take on, because almost all their sales have at least some interesting items, and their prices are generally very reasonable.

Try it. You’ll like it!

🙂

When Is a Splurge a Good Thing?

Not, one could argue, when the Splurger is supposed to be pinching pennies to get through a ridiculously tight time.

That bit of logic notwithstanding, today I blew $400 out of my monthly diddle-it-away fund, reducing the balance to just over a thousand bucks. After the glasses and the clothes episodes, this might (one could argue), just might not represent the highest pinnacle of wisdom to which I have ever aspired.

But it’s not bothering me. Here’s why:

Today’s purchase is a new gas grill, a Weber Spirit E-210, which sells here, there, and everywhere for $399. It’s small—only two burners—but it comes highly recommended by reviewers on several sites.

I love my charcoal grill, which replaced the last gas grill. But…it’s just enough extra work to make me not want to fire it up for dinner. Even when I feel like hassling with it and then scrubbing charcoal dust out from under my fingernails, at this time of year it feels unsafe. During monsoon, a stiff wind can come up with no warning; the hardwood charcoal I favor shoots out hot sparks and cinders with the élan of a magnesium sparkler. In a stiff breeze, they blow into the shrubbery and trees, and frankly I’m concerned about starting a fire in these hot, dry conditions.

Meanwhile, cooking in the kitchen also creates a hassle. Every time I get that darn stove clean, I end up splattering more grease all over it. Last night I cooked a piece of steak and, craving a little enhancement, poured in a few drops of wine to deglaze the pan. Even though I’d turned the heat off under the pan, the wine and hot grease exploded all over the kitchen!

So with dinner congealing on the plate, I got to break out the de-greasers and scrub down the walls, counters, floor, and even the counter all the way across the kitchen from the stove. That was fun.

When I’m tired, which is most of the time, I just don’t feel like making another mess to have to clean up, like having to scrub a frying pan and at least one or two other pans if I make side dishes.

The result is, I’m not eating well. Sometimes I’m not eating at all. I just don’t want to be bothered with the mess.

Half the time I snack on cheese and crackers, often washed down with a beer or two. If I feel energetic enough to cook, it’ll be a pot of pasta, because I can prepare the pasta and a quick sauce in the same pan. As a result, despite not eating much, I’m getting even fatter than I was.

This isn’t healthy.

When I had the gas grill, I usually tossed meat and vegetables onto the grill to cook. All that had to be washed was a dinner plate, a glass, a knife, and a fork. The stove never needed to be scrubbed more than once a month, if that often. I ate well because it was easy to eat well.

Now I’m eating badly—when I eat at all—and I’m getting fatter and fatter.

You see where this is going? I regard that $400 as an investment in my health, not an extravagance. I have got to get back to eating properly!

This little grill, which actually cost a bit more than I planned, is just about the right size to cook one or two portions. The big charcoal grill can be reserved for when guests come over or when I have enough ambition to cook up something that tastes smokey and good.

I think I got a pretty good deal on it: commenters at Amazon revealed that the version sold at Home Depot comes with cast-iron grates; most Weber Spirit models have sheet metal grills, far less desirable. Went over to Lowe’s and found the Weber Spirit there, and sure enough, theirs had the chintzy grates. Lowe’s was having a sale on a larger, fancier model, but the $500 asking price was more than I could afford. On to Home Depot: yea verily, for the same price, their Weber Spirit 210 has nice, heavy cast-iron grates. Not only that, but the Depot will assemble the thing for free.

So I think this is a case where a splurge is not a splurge.

♦ Did I already have a charcoal grill? Yes. But because it’s charcoal and not gas, I use it less and less.
♦ Did I need a gas grill? Probably not, given that a perfectly fine charcoal grill is standing out there in the backyard.
♦ But really, do I need a gas grill? Sure, if I’m going to get back to eating healthy again. Or eating at all.

Cheese & crackers vs. meat and veggies? No contest. I really do think this is not a splurge but a wise move, in spite of the bad timing.

Have you ever had a splurge that was not a splurge? What did you not-a-splurge on?