My oldest daughter and her BF have been struggling for a few months. She's had to take mat leave from work, their baby was born, he was injured at work, and then lost said job shortly after. They have had to apply for assistance from agencies, and are now getting help from Ontario Works. Every dime they get, they put toward rent and the repayment of the loan. They struggle, but are learning during the process.
Daughter filed her income tax on Saturday, and opted for the Cashback thing that all tax places do. Within the hour, she had a cheque in her hand for almost $800, and because of something from previous years taxes, she will also be getting a cheque from Revenue Canada for another $250. She had dreams of setting aside money for next month's rent. BF asked her about getting the XBOX back from us. Fate had other plans.
While walking to the bank Sunday (Really? TD opens on Sundays now??), they were talking about how to allocate this money and where when the wheel on the stroller broke off. Some unrepeatable words were said, and the wheel put back on temporarily, they knew that very suddenly they needed a new infant stroller. Banking done, they headed to Zellers, with the stroller wheel falling off repeatedly. Thank goodness, the Zellers was only across the street. New 2011 model stroller, with infant carseat, all up to standard = $300 and change.
She calls me to tell me about their day and how coincidental it was that they just happened to have the funds available to buy said new stroller. I reply, "And it's things like that happening that show you WHY you need to have an Emergency Fund. I think having your stroller fall apart in the middle of the street qualifies as an Emergency."
I tell her to imagine if they didn't have a tax refund cheque that they were depositing in the bank that day. What would they have done then? I reminded her about putting away 10% of all the money they have coming in. Sure, it makes their already impossibly tight budget even tighter, but then when things happen that they haven't even imagined, they will have some money set aside to help relieve the stress of the situation.
I say to her that the powers that be are showing her again that BF's priorities must change. With the money she had wanted to put toward rent, he wanted to get the XBOX. I asked her to imagine that they used the money to get the XBOX back from us, then the stroller breaks down. What would have happened then? Would either of them have called us and asked to return the XBOX (again) so they could have the money back for the stroller? Yes, they would have. And we would have said no.
I asked her, how in the world are you going to push your kid around town in an XBOX? She laughed, but it brought home the point.
I reminded her that the mentality of "We have money, let's spend it!" is part of how they got into this situation in the first place. They need to stick with paying the bills, putting some money away for things that could happen, and treating themselves is way, way down on the list of priorities. A $10 treat is acceptable. A $400 treat is not.
On a good note, all this strife is pushing them to get their educations. BF will be returning to school for his OSSD very shortly, and DD1 will be doing correspondence for her OSSD. I'm proud of them for taking those necessary steps now to improve life for themselves and their son.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
The Choices We Made
I was reading another blog, and the author asked his readers what they sacrificed in order to get out of debt. He explained the sacrifices he and his wife made, and how it enabled them to become debt-free.
I started thinking about the things we've given up as a family, as a couple, and as individuals.
But I don't think of them as sacrifices. I think of them as conscious choices.
Instead of buying a Timmie's every single day, I choose to only buy on days I work, and keeping that money in our cash flow for bills and debt repayment.
Instead of going on a lavish, all-inclusive resort in the Caribbean, we chose to use our vacation savings to pay down debt, and spend only a smaller amount on a couple days away from home.
We chose to move from a three bedroom townhouse to a three bedroom apartment, to reduce our housing costs while we focused on our debt.
We chose not to continue in recreational activities that we enjoy, so that we could get back on track financially.
We eat at home more, I'm learning how to cook, and we look for ways to keep as many of our costs down as humanly possibly. We budget, plan, save, and spend consciously now. We don't stick our heads in the sand anymore, and wish for the Financial Fix-It Fairy to come and save us. We took action when we realised the damage we were doing.
Our goals are the results of choices we've made as well. We could spend every single fricken penny that we earn this year, but I know that there are places that I would like to visit someday, kids to send to university, and things that I would like to do, when finances permit. We'd like to own a home of our own some time in the future, with a veggie patch in the back yard, and a fire pit to sit around in the evenings. These are the things we chose to have in our future, instead of choosing to live that way now. I'm sure with the improvements we've made to our financial well-being over the last couple of years, some crazy bank would give us a mortgage. But we aren't ready for that just yet.
To me, a sacrifice is something that you give up regrettably. Of course, I would love to spend all willy nilly on anything and everything that I wanted to. But that isn't realistic. The only regret I have about the changes we've made in our lives is that we didn't do it sooner.
Yes, I suppose the choices we made could be considered sacrifices. I think they were more like adult decisions made to ensure a better future.
I started thinking about the things we've given up as a family, as a couple, and as individuals.
But I don't think of them as sacrifices. I think of them as conscious choices.
Instead of buying a Timmie's every single day, I choose to only buy on days I work, and keeping that money in our cash flow for bills and debt repayment.
Instead of going on a lavish, all-inclusive resort in the Caribbean, we chose to use our vacation savings to pay down debt, and spend only a smaller amount on a couple days away from home.
We chose to move from a three bedroom townhouse to a three bedroom apartment, to reduce our housing costs while we focused on our debt.
We chose not to continue in recreational activities that we enjoy, so that we could get back on track financially.
We eat at home more, I'm learning how to cook, and we look for ways to keep as many of our costs down as humanly possibly. We budget, plan, save, and spend consciously now. We don't stick our heads in the sand anymore, and wish for the Financial Fix-It Fairy to come and save us. We took action when we realised the damage we were doing.
Our goals are the results of choices we've made as well. We could spend every single fricken penny that we earn this year, but I know that there are places that I would like to visit someday, kids to send to university, and things that I would like to do, when finances permit. We'd like to own a home of our own some time in the future, with a veggie patch in the back yard, and a fire pit to sit around in the evenings. These are the things we chose to have in our future, instead of choosing to live that way now. I'm sure with the improvements we've made to our financial well-being over the last couple of years, some crazy bank would give us a mortgage. But we aren't ready for that just yet.
To me, a sacrifice is something that you give up regrettably. Of course, I would love to spend all willy nilly on anything and everything that I wanted to. But that isn't realistic. The only regret I have about the changes we've made in our lives is that we didn't do it sooner.
Yes, I suppose the choices we made could be considered sacrifices. I think they were more like adult decisions made to ensure a better future.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
I long to play in the dirt
Some years ago, I was fortunate enough to be able to help my sister with her gardens. She had three different plots, with many different vegetables and berries, as well as her flower beds which surrounded her house. I loved digging and hoeing, pulling weeds, planting the spindly little tomatoes seedlings, adding manure, compost and mulch.
She lives in the east end of the city (which actually used to be outside the city limits), where the soil is of much better quality than any other area of the city. The land in the surrounding area boasts of fertile farmland and sod farms that grow some fantastic quality goods. There is a creek that runs along the back of her property, where some edible things grow wild. There are wildflowers all over the place. It is a beauty to behold.
I remember staining my fingertips with the black earth from hours of digging up potatoes. The garlic left a fragrance in the air before we ever cut the shoots, or pulled the clusters. Lemon balm grew in amongst the grass, so I could just reach down anywhere and pick some leaves to roll around in my hands to make them smell pretty. Cucumbers, squash, pumpkins, and corn grew in one huge plot. Peppers, tomatoes, lettuce, carrots, raspberries and rhubarb were in another. Potatoes and garlic dominated the third. Over the years, she tried different varieties of veggies. Some of my favourite memories are in that garden.
But her gardens fostered a growth of a different kind as well. While we worked, we often talked about our troubled past, working through difficulties we had with our mother while we worked the soil. Many a frustration was taken out on hardened chunks of dirt. It was some of the best 'therapy sessions' I ever attended. We talked a lot about what our hopes and dreams were. We cried over losses, adding our tears to the soil, giving them back to Mother Earth. Some days it was almost like a religious experience, giving up our troubles to a being greater than ourselves, yet sharing them with someone who had similar experiences.
I treasure those days, sweating in the heat, working alongside my sister (who is almost old enough to be my mother), laughing, crying, and basking in the beauty of a warm summer day. We held children's birthday parties between those garden plots. Our kids took baths there too, with water in an aluminum tub, or played in a plastic pool nearby. Her dogs were always running around in the yard with us, keeping the children from wandering out to the road. We mourned the death of her beloved Chihuahua, Punky, who was older than her own daughter in those gardens.
The other day, I started some cherry tomato seeds to be planted in a pot on my balcony. I also added some new soil to my houseplants. While I was scooping handfuls of dirt into the pots, the memories of the many days spent in my sister's garden came flooding back to me. I miss that time so much! I know she still gardens, but on a much smaller scale now. The health problems that she and her husband have limit what they can do now. I'm hoping that this year I can allocate some time weekly to help her in the gardens again. I'd love to get my hands dirty, and work through some issues I'm having.
Of course, the vegetables I could grow would certainly help with our grocery budget as well.
Frugal food, frugal therapy, frugal exercise, frugal tanning...what more could a gal ask for?
She lives in the east end of the city (which actually used to be outside the city limits), where the soil is of much better quality than any other area of the city. The land in the surrounding area boasts of fertile farmland and sod farms that grow some fantastic quality goods. There is a creek that runs along the back of her property, where some edible things grow wild. There are wildflowers all over the place. It is a beauty to behold.
I remember staining my fingertips with the black earth from hours of digging up potatoes. The garlic left a fragrance in the air before we ever cut the shoots, or pulled the clusters. Lemon balm grew in amongst the grass, so I could just reach down anywhere and pick some leaves to roll around in my hands to make them smell pretty. Cucumbers, squash, pumpkins, and corn grew in one huge plot. Peppers, tomatoes, lettuce, carrots, raspberries and rhubarb were in another. Potatoes and garlic dominated the third. Over the years, she tried different varieties of veggies. Some of my favourite memories are in that garden.
But her gardens fostered a growth of a different kind as well. While we worked, we often talked about our troubled past, working through difficulties we had with our mother while we worked the soil. Many a frustration was taken out on hardened chunks of dirt. It was some of the best 'therapy sessions' I ever attended. We talked a lot about what our hopes and dreams were. We cried over losses, adding our tears to the soil, giving them back to Mother Earth. Some days it was almost like a religious experience, giving up our troubles to a being greater than ourselves, yet sharing them with someone who had similar experiences.
I treasure those days, sweating in the heat, working alongside my sister (who is almost old enough to be my mother), laughing, crying, and basking in the beauty of a warm summer day. We held children's birthday parties between those garden plots. Our kids took baths there too, with water in an aluminum tub, or played in a plastic pool nearby. Her dogs were always running around in the yard with us, keeping the children from wandering out to the road. We mourned the death of her beloved Chihuahua, Punky, who was older than her own daughter in those gardens.
The other day, I started some cherry tomato seeds to be planted in a pot on my balcony. I also added some new soil to my houseplants. While I was scooping handfuls of dirt into the pots, the memories of the many days spent in my sister's garden came flooding back to me. I miss that time so much! I know she still gardens, but on a much smaller scale now. The health problems that she and her husband have limit what they can do now. I'm hoping that this year I can allocate some time weekly to help her in the gardens again. I'd love to get my hands dirty, and work through some issues I'm having.
Of course, the vegetables I could grow would certainly help with our grocery budget as well.
Frugal food, frugal therapy, frugal exercise, frugal tanning...what more could a gal ask for?
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Dealing with Life and Death
Life:
This week, I've had a little girl at home with a fever for each of the last 3 days. Earlier on this morning (around 3 a.m.), she actually begged me to take her to a doctor because, as she put it, "I feel like I'm dying". I checked her temp in the dark, and thought something was wrong with the thermometer because it read 39.7 Celsius. I turned on the hall light, and took her temp again. This time it read 40.0 Celsius. Good lord I stripped her down, applied cold cloths, and fed her more children's Advil. I stayed awake for another hour or so, waiting for her temp to drop to something a bit more tolerable before I went back to bed. I worry because there is no other symptoms like vomiting, diarrhea, just a little cough and a bit of a runny nose.
I worked a bit on Monday from one of my side gigs, and hopefully I should make a wee bit from that hour long meeting. I've been thinking a lot about multiple streams of income, and have come to the conclusion that my side gigs, although in the same type of industry that my business is in, qualifies as a separate stream of income (albeit a small one). Technically, we have 4 streams of income, with a couple of others that are more like a drip here and a drip there.
Death:
Hubby and I attended the memorial service of a friend yesterday. There were a lot of people there, some of which we haven't seen in years. A sad way to make a reconnection, doncha think? There were folks of all age groups, and all walks of life in attendance. It was a fitting tribute to a young woman who made such an impression on us all.
I've been thinking about cremation as opposed to a more traditional visitation with an embalmed body present, and it has created opportunities to talk to my loved ones about what type of services they would like when their time comes. Mostly, I've talked to people about the benefits of having a 'viewing' as part of the services, and how it helps those who are left behind. I actually told hubby some of the things I want for my own service, should the unmentionable happen. I know the services are to celebrate the deceased, but in my humble opinion, they are for the living, to help them move through their grief.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sorry, I'm such a bummer sometimes folks, but with the nature of my work, I can't help it. Death is always around me, and I wouldn't be being true to myself if I didn't talk about it from time to time. I often think of myself as standing with one foot in the world of the living, and one in the world of the dead. Some days, those worlds merge for me, but most days, they are distinct and separate. It isn't easy on those whom I love, to have to deal with the weird hours I have to keep. It isn't easy on those who are in my life, knowing that I'm always on call, and may have to leave suddenly. It makes conversations difficult for me, with death almost always on my mind, and the conversation always ends up in some aspect of it around me.
This week, I've had a little girl at home with a fever for each of the last 3 days. Earlier on this morning (around 3 a.m.), she actually begged me to take her to a doctor because, as she put it, "I feel like I'm dying". I checked her temp in the dark, and thought something was wrong with the thermometer because it read 39.7 Celsius. I turned on the hall light, and took her temp again. This time it read 40.0 Celsius. Good lord I stripped her down, applied cold cloths, and fed her more children's Advil. I stayed awake for another hour or so, waiting for her temp to drop to something a bit more tolerable before I went back to bed. I worry because there is no other symptoms like vomiting, diarrhea, just a little cough and a bit of a runny nose.
I worked a bit on Monday from one of my side gigs, and hopefully I should make a wee bit from that hour long meeting. I've been thinking a lot about multiple streams of income, and have come to the conclusion that my side gigs, although in the same type of industry that my business is in, qualifies as a separate stream of income (albeit a small one). Technically, we have 4 streams of income, with a couple of others that are more like a drip here and a drip there.
Death:
Hubby and I attended the memorial service of a friend yesterday. There were a lot of people there, some of which we haven't seen in years. A sad way to make a reconnection, doncha think? There were folks of all age groups, and all walks of life in attendance. It was a fitting tribute to a young woman who made such an impression on us all.
I've been thinking about cremation as opposed to a more traditional visitation with an embalmed body present, and it has created opportunities to talk to my loved ones about what type of services they would like when their time comes. Mostly, I've talked to people about the benefits of having a 'viewing' as part of the services, and how it helps those who are left behind. I actually told hubby some of the things I want for my own service, should the unmentionable happen. I know the services are to celebrate the deceased, but in my humble opinion, they are for the living, to help them move through their grief.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sorry, I'm such a bummer sometimes folks, but with the nature of my work, I can't help it. Death is always around me, and I wouldn't be being true to myself if I didn't talk about it from time to time. I often think of myself as standing with one foot in the world of the living, and one in the world of the dead. Some days, those worlds merge for me, but most days, they are distinct and separate. It isn't easy on those whom I love, to have to deal with the weird hours I have to keep. It isn't easy on those who are in my life, knowing that I'm always on call, and may have to leave suddenly. It makes conversations difficult for me, with death almost always on my mind, and the conversation always ends up in some aspect of it around me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)