Sunday, January 7, 2007
Me, Potato Girl
Some people have a picture of themselves on their profile to the side of their blog posts. I cannot, for the life of me, in spite of all the time I have spent, figure out how to get a picture there. So I put this picture here, instead. It is me, potato girl, in the hospital after Esther was born in May. I am balancing my checkbook in this picture, in case you were wondering.
Thursday, January 4, 2007
Could You Spend a Year Buying Nothing New?
Yesterday I read an article in the paper about a group in San Francisco that made a decision at the end of 2005 to not buy anything new (except groceries, medicine, and underwear) in the year 2006. They called their commitment The Compact, after the covenant pilgrims on the Mayflower made to one another in 1620.
I love to shop at thrift stores, inherit things from friends, and pick things up from the side of the road. But while the San Francisco Compacters are motivated by a love for the environment and a desire to minimize the footprint they leave on the earth, my scavenging is all about the bottom line. Not to mention the fact that when I get something for a great bargain, or free, I feel like a super hero. In fact, I can barely stand to pay full price for anything any more. When I buy something new, I experience mild anguish the first time something happens to it. When I get something used, lots of things have already happened to it, so there is nothing to worry about.
There were a number of things the San Francisco Compacters mentioned in the article I read that I could relate to. The first was something they call "Compact Karma." This is the observation that when they need something, and resist the urge to buy it new, their needs are often filled. I call this a "Tithing Blessing." This happened recently with my car. I ran it into a shopping cart and dented the front passenger door so that it could not open all the way. I took it to the body shop to ask for an estimate on the repair. I told the guy I would be paying out of pocket and if it was too expensive I wouldn't be able to afford it. He asked if he could take it around back for a closer look. He brought it back to me five minutes later fixed, and wouldn't accept a dime.
Another thing a Compacter said that rang true for me is "I really found a lot of times there were things I thought I needed that I don't need that much." Earlier today, I had convinced myself that I needed to buy a set of black pillowcases to go with some black fitted sheets I bought a year ago. But when I thought about the Compacters, I was reminded of the fact that I have at least 10 perfectly good sets of pillowcases already. They may not be black, but they work just fine.
One Compact member noted in the article "the joy of getting reacquainted with the local library." I love the library. I often wish there were libraries for a lot more things than books. I would like to have a library of baby equipment, a library of remodeling tools, a library of toys--all of these things that we don't need every day, just once in awhile.
Finally, a two-part statement that I liked: "After going through an initial period of withdrawal, discovering how easy it was to obtain pretty much anything with a little time and effort was an eye-opener." I have spent too many afternoons walking up and down the aisles of my local Target just killing time. Shopping can be a great way to alleviate boredom, escape from the house (i.e., the dishes), or cope with a fussy baby. But when I'm trying to save money, the daily trips to Target have to go, because I always end up buying something that I don't need while I'm there.
The second part of the above quote alludes to the two reasons I've decided, after much thought, that I am not yet prepared to join the Compacters in 2007: Time and Effort. Let's say I need some long-sleeved onesies for Esther. I go to Salvation Army. They don't have any in her size that I like. I go to Children's Orchard, same story. By that time, Esther has missed a nap and is out of her mind, and it is time to pick up Adam from kindergarten. And still no onesies. At this point, a Compacter would keep waiting and looking. I would go to the Old Navy Outlet and buy some new onesies, because I know they'll have them, in her size, and they will be cute. And when you're motivated by money first, and a desire to save the earth second, like I am, and you have three unhappy children, like I often do, you're going to be just as happy (if not happier) with new onesies from Old Navy for a good price that you can get immediately as you are with used onesies from Salvation Army for a slightly better price that you may have to wait weeks to find.
But nothing beats finding a cute, like-new, Old Navy onesie at Salvation Army for fifty cents on your first try.
I love to shop at thrift stores, inherit things from friends, and pick things up from the side of the road. But while the San Francisco Compacters are motivated by a love for the environment and a desire to minimize the footprint they leave on the earth, my scavenging is all about the bottom line. Not to mention the fact that when I get something for a great bargain, or free, I feel like a super hero. In fact, I can barely stand to pay full price for anything any more. When I buy something new, I experience mild anguish the first time something happens to it. When I get something used, lots of things have already happened to it, so there is nothing to worry about.
There were a number of things the San Francisco Compacters mentioned in the article I read that I could relate to. The first was something they call "Compact Karma." This is the observation that when they need something, and resist the urge to buy it new, their needs are often filled. I call this a "Tithing Blessing." This happened recently with my car. I ran it into a shopping cart and dented the front passenger door so that it could not open all the way. I took it to the body shop to ask for an estimate on the repair. I told the guy I would be paying out of pocket and if it was too expensive I wouldn't be able to afford it. He asked if he could take it around back for a closer look. He brought it back to me five minutes later fixed, and wouldn't accept a dime.
Another thing a Compacter said that rang true for me is "I really found a lot of times there were things I thought I needed that I don't need that much." Earlier today, I had convinced myself that I needed to buy a set of black pillowcases to go with some black fitted sheets I bought a year ago. But when I thought about the Compacters, I was reminded of the fact that I have at least 10 perfectly good sets of pillowcases already. They may not be black, but they work just fine.
One Compact member noted in the article "the joy of getting reacquainted with the local library." I love the library. I often wish there were libraries for a lot more things than books. I would like to have a library of baby equipment, a library of remodeling tools, a library of toys--all of these things that we don't need every day, just once in awhile.
Finally, a two-part statement that I liked: "After going through an initial period of withdrawal, discovering how easy it was to obtain pretty much anything with a little time and effort was an eye-opener." I have spent too many afternoons walking up and down the aisles of my local Target just killing time. Shopping can be a great way to alleviate boredom, escape from the house (i.e., the dishes), or cope with a fussy baby. But when I'm trying to save money, the daily trips to Target have to go, because I always end up buying something that I don't need while I'm there.
The second part of the above quote alludes to the two reasons I've decided, after much thought, that I am not yet prepared to join the Compacters in 2007: Time and Effort. Let's say I need some long-sleeved onesies for Esther. I go to Salvation Army. They don't have any in her size that I like. I go to Children's Orchard, same story. By that time, Esther has missed a nap and is out of her mind, and it is time to pick up Adam from kindergarten. And still no onesies. At this point, a Compacter would keep waiting and looking. I would go to the Old Navy Outlet and buy some new onesies, because I know they'll have them, in her size, and they will be cute. And when you're motivated by money first, and a desire to save the earth second, like I am, and you have three unhappy children, like I often do, you're going to be just as happy (if not happier) with new onesies from Old Navy for a good price that you can get immediately as you are with used onesies from Salvation Army for a slightly better price that you may have to wait weeks to find.
But nothing beats finding a cute, like-new, Old Navy onesie at Salvation Army for fifty cents on your first try.
Tuesday, January 2, 2007
Football. Wow.
When I was growing up, I developed a strong dislike for football. This was tied directly to the fact that my dad loved to watch football, and I loved to have my dad's full attention. Whenever he was watching football, his eyes glazed over and he got this far away voice, and it took him several hours to answer the simplest questions. I would say things like, "when is this game going to be over?!!!" Dad would respond, "there's just one minute left." An hour later, he would still be claiming that there were only 15 seconds left or something equally unbelievable to anyone that could tell time. When I left home to find my way in the world, football continued to play a role in my relationship with my father. I often received letters or emails with detailed descriptions of the latest great game he had watched, as though these things had some kind of relevance in my life.
This morning my dad called to tell me that he had enjoyed looking at some photographs I sent him. The topic soon drifted to Boise State's amazing game against Oklahoma last night in the Fiesta Bowl. According to my dad, this was the greatest game he ever watched in his ENTIRE LIFE. He was so excited, he went into some kind of play by play recap of the entire second half and overtime. I could not understand a word that he said, it was nothing but secret-code-language football jargon, but since I had at least gathered that BSU won, I just kept repeating, "wow." He promised that he would bring the tape of the game to Michigan on his upcoming visit so that we could watch the whole thing together, complete with his commentary on all of Boise's players. I can't wait to see him. And as for the game? Wow.
This morning my dad called to tell me that he had enjoyed looking at some photographs I sent him. The topic soon drifted to Boise State's amazing game against Oklahoma last night in the Fiesta Bowl. According to my dad, this was the greatest game he ever watched in his ENTIRE LIFE. He was so excited, he went into some kind of play by play recap of the entire second half and overtime. I could not understand a word that he said, it was nothing but secret-code-language football jargon, but since I had at least gathered that BSU won, I just kept repeating, "wow." He promised that he would bring the tape of the game to Michigan on his upcoming visit so that we could watch the whole thing together, complete with his commentary on all of Boise's players. I can't wait to see him. And as for the game? Wow.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)