June 19, 2014
It’s a PF truism that we should always value experiences more than stuff. Mostly I agree because I love saving money and hate having too many things. Even now I’m having a bit of an allergic reaction to the excess stuff we have here at home, and can’t wait for a burst of energy that’ll help me organize a closet sorting things out for disposal or donations.
But only mostly. As much as I don’t like clutter – useful things? I LOVE THEM. Things that make my life easier, happier, or more comfortable are alright in my book. I have a terrible memory so while I do enjoy our occasional outings, weekending frequently would just leave me in an addled haze not recalling one special event or another. And PiC is pretty amazing at Things-Maintenance so if we choose something that fits us and our lifestyle, it’ll last us a long while. Things aren’t just disposable in this household.
Here are a few of my favorite things this year ….
These were a gift, and I use them every day. They’re great for: serving or mixing sauces, serving condiments, chopped ingredients like garlic and shallots, a real serving size of my favorite cookies, nuts or crackers and cheese, a dab of post-dinner ice cream …
How I’d never heard of these before, I’ll never know. But these are fabulous. And they have smiley faces underneath, so even better!
They really are soft and squishy which is wonderful for my generally aching hips and knees; the cloth bands are both snug and never pinch or dig into my ankles; they’re actually rather attractive. I never get compliments on my shoes because I typically choose really basic, boring shoes for their functionality. Here we have form AND function!
(6 Buttons, 3 DPI Adjustment Levels and 2000 DPI)
I work a LOT. Most waking hours of the day are spent on the computer. So it’s probably no surprise that my hand comfort is critical.
For years I used a lovely Microsoft mouse that a reader was kind enough to gift me because I couldn’t afford one at the time; that finally pooped out on me. This mouse is big in my hand, but that’s perfect because it allows my hand to relax while resting on it and mousing at the same time. The tiny USB connection is revolutionary after having struggled not to catch the huge-flash drive style connection of the old mouse, and best of all? This mouse works on any surface. I can sit anywhere and use the mouse on a relatively flat surface. Heck, I’ll confess to mousing on my belly when I’m using the laptop on the sofa and don’t feel like finding a pillow at the right height to rest my hand on!
I tentatively love this. Freedom from cable! It hiccups on occasion but that’s probably because we don’t have top notch internet. I don’t love the huge HDMI cable required but the Roku itself is tiny which is great.
:: What things are wonderful and delightful in your life?
NOTE: I have added Amazon affiliate links above if anyone wants to order through them, what pennies that brings in will go to keeping on the blog lights. 🙂
March 25, 2014
Hell yes.
Happiness is: peace of mind, freedom, security, joy.
I started blogging nearly a decade ago, in what now seems to be the early dawn of personal finance blogging. Many of the early blogs I got to know are gone now, those that remain have grown up and moved out, sold to PF conglomerates of one sort or another. A few are still chugging along steadily, big and small, populating the landscape like old neighbors. I like old neighbors. It suggests a homeyness and the coziness of people who understand boundaries and respect them, not expecting too much and not talking too much. I still read a variety of bloggers: life-money, wealth, debt bloggers; and their stories keep pushing me to do a little better today than I did yesterday.
One of those bloggers, Ramit (of I Will Teach You to Be Rich) who needs absolutely no publicity from me, sent around an email recently about how he was going to take off for a skiing weekend; his business would continue to rake in the cash orders of magnitude more than he spent. That, of course, set off one of my classic “If you give a mouse a cookie” moments:
I’d like to be able to send an email to my good friends suggesting a weekend away, and pay for it. But some of them have kids. They might have the flexibility to go on an all expenses paid trip but it’d be a pain for them to say, fly cross country, with kids and all their associated luggage. So it’d be awesomer to charter a plane. Oh even better? It’d be best to have my own plane that I didn’t have to pilot and … ok, this just got a whole lot more expensive.
That got me thinking: Based on my definition, quantitatively speaking, I would say that I am at least three times happier now than I was nearly ten years ago.
But I can always find a way to spend more money. Always. I don’t live profligately but my imagination has no shortage of ideas of how to do things “better” that just so happen to cost a few hundred thousand dollars. Or more. It’s not like I’m a hard-partier who believes in working hard = playing hard, but let’s be honest, I could certainly see myself positively wallowing in luxury should I manage to find a way to unbelievable wealth.
Wouldn’t it follow that it doesn’t matter how much money I have, I wouldn’t be happy?
It’s 2014 and most of my expectations haven’t come true.
- I didn’t save my parents from themselves. In fact, that was an epic fail as far as what I *thought* was going to happen: happy healthy parents living in the house I’d bought for them, able to travel the world a couple times a year, able to hang out with me and my chosen family.
- I don’t hold a Master’s degree in anything unless you can have a degree in Grit and Perseverance. You really can’t frame that. Over the years, no degree seemed worth the effort of juggling work and school simultaneously.
- I don’t have a pack of rescued dogs, in the house I bought before age 30. Nope.
These were just a few things on my 30 by 30 list if that had been a thing half a lifetime ago. I’d just started out in my first post-college job, making below the median salary for the field, fresh-minted in the professional world, if not the financial world. My parents were in dire financial straits, I was going to save them, and all was going to be well in the world.
If we were grading my life, using that list, I’d be transported back to those horrible days in high school when a B felt like the end of all things, good or ill. So why would I contend that money = happiness?
Take a step back
Life isn’t about a pre-determined list and checking off the boxes. In today’s society, that’s really easy to forget.
In no small part due to tripling my salary in the past decade, happiness isn’t some holy grail. It’s part of everyday life thanks to the things I didn’t see coming, not the stuff I so carefully planned.
I’m happily married….
Can’t say I saw that coming. Seriously, even though I spent the last many years in a long term relationship, marriage was still something that I supposed would or wouldn’t happen but I wasn’t focused on it as an end goal.
Instead I was all too aware of how tightly wound I was about every. single. penny. PiC would never admit it out loud (though, party trick: watch his eyes dilate a little if the subject ever comes up) but I was NOT easy to live with when he was privy to me in full-caretaking mode. I was worried ALL the time. I was worried day, night and twilight about whether I was making enough to make rent, to cover the cost of fixing Mom up again after her latest run-away and fall, how I was going to pay for nursing care, how I was going to pay for her and Dad’s continued costs of living. And was I working hard enough to make the case for a serious raise, was I performing at star levels, 24 hours a day? And my health was terrible. Stress, as it turns out, exacerbates the health problems so I was, as far as things go, a pretty awful partner to live with for a few years. Making a lot more money – surprise! – made huge difference.
We now enjoy some luxuries, we’re able to have both some things we want and all our needs are met.
Money didn’t save my mom….
but it gave my parents a place to live and stability that they wouldn’t have had if I wasn’t paying.
My health still sucks….
but I have an actual support network now. In the last few years, PiC and I have learned how to cope with it together. The first 15 years of living with fibro was incredibly lonely and isolating. With his support and help, I can afford to pay for alternative treatments to alleviate the pain. With friends who understand, I have people to talk to about something that’s both horrible and never-ending. Friends who have never been seriously sidelined have no understanding of what it’s like to live like this, and I’d never wish it on them obviously, but it’s still been incredibly isolating.
Freedom & Security
These go hand in hand. I haven’t reached the magic number or magic solution that would mean I could go without employment for months or years but I do have the beginnings of both. I have the ability to plan for them, not just dream of them.
Money can’t buy talent, “success”, brains. It sure as heck never bought me great health. I suppose it could buy some measure of beauty if I cared enough about that.
But money in the bank is how I sleep nights I’d otherwise spend sitting up working a few more hours of overtime, or trying to figure out how to cover this month’s bills. Money in the emergency fund is how I ward off a few more nightmares about how we’re going to survive. Money in the brokerage, and paying down the mortgage, is how we build our more secure future, brick by brick. Money is how I can help others: frees up time to volunteer, frees up resources for those who need it a little more.
Money may not buy the actual sense of happiness or satisfaction but it goes a LONG way to easing the road. Still, the experience of being broke was as enlightening, perhaps more educating, than having been born to it.
The fruit of being broke
A work ethic.
I probably never would have worked as hard as I did to pay down my family’s debts. I probably never would have learned the satisfaction of making it, on my own terms, making the best of anything that came our way.
Friends.
Believe it or not, any friends I still have are down to my sparkling personality, not my money. (chortles “sparkling”).
Pride.
This goes with a work ethic. What I have, I earned. And I can be proud of that. And I’ve learned to be proud of my work itself; forget being self effacing!
Values.
Some studies say that as wealth increases, empathy and compassion decrease. I can safely say that remembering where I came from, and knowing that you can always give someone a helping hand, will never be a problem. The challenge will be passing along that awareness to the next generation.
Priceless: having a value beyond any price
Naps.
A sense of style.
My dog’s love. (No seriously, I’ve tried bribing him with all manner of treats. I’m acceptable for survival purposes but that’s it.)
Depth perception. (Sure, you say “glasses” but I say: that’s how I first fell UP a flight of stairs.)
Common sense. Sure I have some, but a trip to the department store won’t get more.
Appreciation for the good things in life.
DO SHARE
:: What’s your take?
:: What are your flights of fancy?
Related posts: Miss Thrifty putting the emergency fund to good use.
June 6, 2013
This post about all the reasons a house is a terrible investment (via nicoleandmaggie) made me laugh a little. Most of these ring true as financial reasons my pocketbook doesn’t want a house just yet, even as we’re staring at homes in the area, and starting to save for a new down payment.
If it were a purely financial transaction, I’d really think about six more times about trying to buy a house given the real estate market here in the Bay Area. Everywhere I look: astronomical prices. Apparently this is the “Paradise Tax” according to @isobelcarr, but my heat-loving soul protests.
I grew up renting all our lives and I still think it was a relatively simple way to go considering my family didn’t have steady and at least a bit consistent income. They could manage rent but managing the costs of maintenance and ongoing property taxes probably wasn’t likely. So despite being good friends with people who were firm proponents of real estate as investments, I had trouble picking up that attitude.
I can’t think of my home as an investment, not the home that I live in.
It’s my home and retreat and I’d love it. But I wouldn’t be so enamored as to think we’d ever resell at a high enough price to recoup: down payment, all fees associated with the hunt and the purchase, all the interest (yes, it may be tax deductible but still), any fees associated with refinancing as we’d probably do at least once, and of course, principal payments, insurance.
Given the high unlikelihood that a home would reliably turn a profit, it’s a purchase, in my opinion. Unless it’s to be rented out, in which case you have a whole other set of calculations, but we’re talking about a home you live in for the sake of argument.
The case for buying?
There are certainly good reasons to buy. As a homebody, it’s the place I’d spend the most time. Owning would mean having general, if slightly limited, control over the routine monthly costs when I made the initial financial decisions: down payment, term of loan, interest rate (which is still ultimately determined by the market rate).
Assuming no HOA, I would have generally free rein to do with the house as I pleased, and most importantly, rescue any kind of dog I wanted. None of this stupid breedist crap you get from HOAs which assume that large dogs are dangerous when my experience shows that 80% of the small dogs owned by our neighbors are untrained, unsocialized panic or aggression-driven little craps that go for Doggle’s throat every time.
The case for renting?
There’s definitely something to be said for only being responsible for your own conduct in a rental, and not being responsible for routine or emergency maintenance. Having to fix your own EVERYTHING is expensive and exhausting according to multiple homeowning friends. I’m not greatly familiar with the rules outside of CA but landlords must respond to problems within a reasonable period of time, and if we preferred to handle calling in for services ourselves, our landlords tended to be fine with our deducting the bill from our rent.
A good renting and credit record tends to buy you leniency and cooperation from a hands-off landlord too: they don’t mind accommodating requests that might be slightly out of the ordinary.
Having the flexibility to pack up and move with a month of notice may be important if you’re a university student, a young adult starting out with a new job, an adult looking for new jobs in a tight job market, a retiree who doesn’t like to be tied down to a mortgage or a single place … in other words, the flexibility of renting could be important to just about anyone. There’s something incredibly stressful about, say, getting a new mortgage and then unexpectedly getting laid off in a recession or bad job market, even with the best of emergency funds.
The variables…
Cost effectiveness of renting v buying: Depending on where you are, the supply of rentals may be low, driving the cost of renting an equivalent home higher. Or it may be high, in which case you have lease incentives, and more expansive options to lure you as a renter. Toss-up.
Your living space: If you have a good and reasonable landlord, you may have relative freedom as to personalizing your home. Or not. Or your landlord may suck at doing repairs in a timely manner. Or you might, as a homeowner.
HOAs: There’s a bunch of stuff I hate about HOAs. It is nice not to have to worry about the long-term maintenance but I’m not sure it’s totally worth the trade-off. And we feel that much more tightly bound to our neighbors. The good ones, the horrible ones, the really horrible ones. It’s a crapshoot whether the people who run for a seat on the board will be competent as well.
Over to you: what are your priorities when it comes to your living arrangements? Are you a renter, buyer, both? (neither…?)
Confession: I always dreamed of buying a house outright with cash. I don’t think that’s going to happen soon.
February 18, 2013
It’s a bit of a truism that time is money.
There’s a whole bunch of stuff about paying for “extra time” by hiring out the work you don’t need to do and stuff about activities like watching tv are time and money wasting but I won’t bore you with a rehash of that.
I used to take advantage of every possible earning hour by doing something that might or would bring in the extra cash. But there’s only so many earning opportunities, and frankly I don’t need to spend every waking hour trying to scrape in every single penny. This is a luxury I’ll gladly enjoy.
So the equation’s different for me. It’s not a cash value I assign to the time that I would normally be “off”, it’s the energy and satisfaction return on investment.
(Of course, even as fatigued as I get some days, that Puritan work ethic I subscribe to suggests that sleeping my weekends away is not “worth” it but who said I was great at theoretical maths anyway?)
That got me thinking about how we choose to spend our non-work time.
Money over time choices
choosing the labor: In a very direct time-to-savings thing – PiC participates in a hobby that requires membership in an organization. Part of the membership requirement is a set number of required volunteer hours per year. If those hours are not fulfilled, the organization charges you per hour up to a max of, say, $300.
I suppose “required volunteer hours” becomes oxymoronic: required =/= volunteer, so much. But PiC refuses to budget for that charge, insisting that he’ll be darned if he pays $300 that he doesn’t have to. Here’s the fun part: he’s allowed to claim hours that non-members log with him. So guess who gets roped into the choice to do “volunteer” hours?
As the best wife evar, though, I don’t complain. 🙂 He picks things we can do where, for the most part, I get much-needed sun and he can do most of the work if I’m not really up to it. By our powers combined, we can knock off nearly all the required hours in a day or two.
result: six to ten hours of labor, lots of tired afterward depending on how long we’re on our feet. But those hours are spent doing “recreational” stuff together and equal 1 very grateful spouse.
choosing being “boring”: On tired days, or even just after a really rough week, I can spend my weekend reading, futzing around on the internet and watching tv. NCIS marathons FTW!
I’ve slowly collected a tiny collection of DVDs I cherish to keep me company when I’m having long days alone. FIREFLY FOREVER. <3
result: very little going out. There are times I actively refuse to think of reasons to go out, instead of stay in. Perhaps excessively so. But I am quite entertained. Cheap, cheap date. And indoctrinating PiC in my favorite pop culture. Discovering that PiC actually has a favorite Firefly episode now = priceless.
choosing DIY instead of relying on the professionals: I love trying to cook things at home when the dish becomes a favorite. Also, some maintenance I’d just rather do myself. Likewise, PiC insists on doing some hobby related repairs.
result: lots of cursing, scaring the dog into the furniture and exile, burning of hair stove-top, breaking of tools to save anything from $12-35 at a time. Yields entertainment, the occasional sense of accomplishment or embarrassment: “how long did that take???” We’re not horrible at DIY, but the screw-ups are most memorable.
Time over money choices
choosing to eat out: because eating is good. But sometimes, food is just not worth scraping ourselves off the sofa, bed, or ground to spend a couple hours in the kitchen. Or we just really have to do that other thing.
result: supporting our favorite restaurants, retaining some sanity, discovering new delicious restaurants. Unless they’re not.
choosing professional massages: need I explain?
result: happier body, saner spouse.
choosing a Costco run: instead of going to four different stores to shop sales and coupons.
result: trading the thrill of the bargain hunt and occasionally losing PiC in the morass of Costco on a weekend for less variety in the foodstuffs and fewer stops. And not spending time couponclipping. (Which I actually enjoyed when time wasn’t so precious.)
choosing travel: Much as I hate leaving my precious Doggle behind, and avoid extraneous exertion ;D travel for work or pleasure is always a bit of a learning experience and an opportunity to eat delicious food.
result: Experience and things, I say, each in moderation.
choosing professionals instead of DIY: Most car repairs are now beyond me. In Southern California, there was more room and friends to help test repair notions out. Without a driveway and with fewer tools at our disposal, to the mechanic!
result: Possibly more airtight repairs, more reading up on what a car really needs to avoid unnecessary work, fewer oil stains.
The Choices Not Yet Made
Entirely outside of work and lifestyle stuff that directly relates to money, I still want to volunteer my time to causes I believe in:
I haven’t figured out how to fit in a regular volunteer gig though. They all want some specific time commitment that may be more than I can actually handle right now.
Ultimately, no real issues with how we’re doing things right now with the exception of needing to figure out how to fit in something good. It feels important and perhaps worthy of trading money for time to make that happen.
Are you happy with the choices you’re making right now?
January 8, 2013
10. His fearsome visage still gives some strangers pause but his calm (stoic) personality has won over more than a few dog-phobics. One person who used to run away from him on sight thinks he’s actually pretty cool, now.
9. Since surgery, and Christmas, he’s been super bouncy. As in, his hind end swivels up and gets air time when he’s excited about something. When we’re going for a walk, and when his papa gets home.
8. Dad is still his NUMBER ONE but he’s been slightly more affectionate and attentive to me and I’m loving it. ie: He’ll come to “say hi” to me after one walk a day, and touch noses with me. But I only get 3 seconds to react and touch noses with him.
7. He’s got this hilarious fascination with babies in strollers. Covered strollers pique his curiosity more than a Thanksgiving turkey leg in reach. Literally.
6. He hasn’t any mental connection with his hind end. His tail smacks into walls, he’s perturbed. His tail knocks over things, he jumps like he’s been attacked. His rear *ahem* toots too loudly and he runs away in fear of his own bum! The last is most insulting when you’re sharing an office with him and he leaves you with the gift of Silent and Deadly gas bombs. “What was that? Ew. It’s smelly in here, bye!”
5. One time only: He’s signaled that he really wanted to go out, seriously guys, let’s go. Normally, he just waits til he’s told we’re going out, then he dances in place as we prep for the walk. One day, he went into doggy dance mode, stalked us, danced some more, stalked his dense humans from room to room until he couldn’t take it anymore, then reached out and whacked his da with his paw.
6. One time only: A few weeks after surgery, he was so excited about a walk that he reached down and grabbed his sling. He’s never done that before or since.
5. Social interaction: He has a small collection of toys that he will carefully select from, one at a time, to carry out for the afternoon and show off when it’s his self designated play time. We’re allowed to play catch for about five minutes at most, and then he takes the toy and settles down with it and a “please leave now” air.
4. Strange talents: He can hear me putting on pants from any room in the house.
3. Vocalizing: He used to match PiC snore for snore.
2. Innocence: He nearly bit me (accidentally) once when we were playing and immediately turned it into the biggest ohhh-what’s-over-theerrrree YAWN.
1. He lets me lay on top of him for a full squishy hug.
I wish I could share so many pictures of him but he’d out us in a flapjack second. I’d love to see and share photos of your little and large darlings, though!
So all of this is to say, Doggle is wonderful and in 2012, he cost about $8500. We love you, Doggle. We love you.
October 2, 2012
So the scar is pretty spectacular. I mean, the surgical site and incision is, anyway, it’s not a scar yet. But that’s starting at the end, or what is currently the “end” of a story that we’re still in the middle of. And I confess to being tempted to show you a photo but I have been accused of being gross for such things before.
Doggle seemed to be middling-fair end of the week but, to my eye, distinctly on the downhill trend, at a rate that I was most certainly not comfortable with.
You have to understand that his rate of decline was most important here because he was on more ameliorating medication than he’d been on during his first episode, significantly more, his baseline symptoms were far worse to begin with yet he was deteriorating more and more rapidly as time went on.
I’ve got some experience in this area. And I’ve got some old, long-time professional contacts in this area, too. So I emailed after the consult with a detailed description of the exam, then added my opinion afterward. That’s when I got the confirmation that my side-eyeing of the situation was indeed accurate.
Things literally got worse overnight. Sunday morning, Doggle had gone from a dog that could ambulate and push me around the night before to a dog that was struggling to stand on his own, struggling to walk more than six paces without his hind end falling and, struggling to keep his hind end from tipping over entirely one side or the other. A few times, he couldn’t and his entire body toppled over, and he was helpless to get back up.
That’s aside from the other obvious signs of neurological deficit, the dragging of the hind paws, the knuckling without correction, the awkward out-turning of one leg or the other as though it were a foreign object not truly attached to his body.
It was disturbing how he went from hours of trying to pace and fighting me to exhaustion Saturday night over being bed rested and crated to giving up from pain and discomfort.
And yet, it wasn’t easy to make the decision on Sunday to commit to surgery – it was a huge decision to put him under anesthesia again, to subject him to a major surgical procedure, to commit him to a serious multi-month recovery and rehabilitation effort.
The money was never an issue for me. I knew it wasn’t going to be debt so I was basically ready with cash in hand. We had already paid for the initial exam and associated costs: ~ $150.
Then the specialist exam and diagnostics (bloodwork, MRI): $2540
Quote: $4200-5000, or $4800-5600
It was a body blow to PiC, who has never dealt with major veterinary procedures and therefore their costs before. I had walked him through what I expected each line item to cost already but hearing it from the specialist, confirming I was right, was still a shock. It took all I had to keep my mouth shut and let him work through the equivalencies: “that’s one of X, that’s five of Z, that’s …”
In the end, that’s my dog and responsibility. That’s our dog. We’re not broke, in financial straits or in danger of being so, so there’s nothing more important to me than his life and health. That’s our dog’s spine and health and PiC would get there too. But he needed time that I didn’t need mainly because I already knew all of the health and the money stuff from my past life.
My difficulty was the pain he would go through and the reality of living with the decision. I’ve done various surgical procedures before with my other pets, though not to this magnitude and I know it doesn’t always go your way. Whether it’s the procedure itself or the recovery, things aren’t always routine no matter how “simple” it might be. I’ve watched other people, many times, make the call and I know, it doesn’t always go your way. So I don’t care how “routine” the procedure is for any medical professional, I know that surgery is a risk.
We talked it through and ultimately, given his condition and the fact that he was still not responding to the medications and if he continued not to respond, we were going to be risking his chances to return to function. Backed by the expertise of a close friend, a veterinary professional with more than a decade of experience who worked with many decades of top flight surgical experience, we chose to operate.
We left a deposit for the low end of the quoted range of the procedure’s cost. That’s a bit more than I preferred to leave but that’s one way to take deposits, 50% of the quote is another standard deposit method.
One of the things that I didn’t like about this clinic was that I had to push them to give me an itemized quote – who gives me a ballpark range on a procedure and thinks that’s sufficient? I want to see an itemized list. The front office staff were remarkably shoddy in many respects, but I think the tech staff were generally good.
Another thing I didn’t like was that it called itself a specialty and 24-hour emergency hospital, but for surgeries that are normally scheduled during normal hours, they charged an emergency surcharge during the weekend. Perhaps this is normal in the Bay Area but that’s certainly not my experience from Southern California. You’re charged for the emergency consultation and then if you need the surgery, you pay for surgery and any related surgical costs, and that’s the end of that. You’re not charged another $600 for nursing staff to be called in because the hospital didn’t staff for emergency services when they claim they offer emergency services.
Perhaps they are minor things but they reflect on the clinic and make me wonder if they are indicative of the quality of care. But we were in a bind and we were running out of time. I had to trust that, knowing in the past, we’d had horrible support staff with good vets before, that could very likely be the case here.
I was very nearly holding my breath the whole time. I most certainly wasn’t ready to deal with talking to people out loud – so I wasn’t taking phone calls from family or friends. Twitter was a lifesaver in that respect. Twitter, text and email.
Two hours later, we got the call and his procedure seemed to have gone well – and he was waking up fine. Hurdles 1 and 2, surgery and anesthesia were passed.
Day 1 post-op: he was eating and able to get up, anxious and wanting to leave. Hurdles 2, 3, passed. But a new one presented: Anxiety level and our ability to keep him quiet. For three months.
We ended up paying just under $5000 for the whole surgical package and came home with a dog in a sling, medication, small refund on the deposit and some hope for his back and legs.
He came home dazed, hurting, and scared.
Day 2 post-op: slept, drugged and dazed. We jumped up every hour or two to check on him when he lifted his head, or shifted a foot. We do not have this co-parenting, taking shifts thing sorted, or in any way down. We are zombies by morning. 5:40 am: I am oozing out of bed to try and give him medication. Forget jumping. Who has the energy for that?
The whole day was 98% keeping him calm and quiet, interspersed with learning how to get him up because he couldn’t figure out how to stand in less than ten minutes without hurting himself, walking in a sling holding up about 40% of his considerable bulk without unbalancing him or throwing out our backs or hurting ourselves, encouraging him to walk when he was too tired, scared or confused to.
He’s got no bladder control thanks to one medication he’ll be on for three more days so we have a ten foot radius of potty pads layered on top of each other, on top of towels on top of blankets.
I’m the medication unit so three times a day I’m making sure he gets dosed; unless he also needs a sedative when he gets so anxious and amped up for whatever reason and is in danger of harming himself.
This week is, as we were warned, going to be rough. I expect that could probably be said about more than just this week, but we’ll see.
After this week, we’ll also need to see about a real rehab plan depending on how well he does.
The price we pay for a dog to have a little fun, hm? 🙂
September 28, 2012
This started as a post about some of the shopping I’d been doing and the expensive things I/we want but couldn’t pull the trigger on. And it sort of still is.
But it’s also about how I’m glad that my habits and instincts are still in the same gears so that this on-and-off heartburn will fade so I can work, plan and worry over the pup in peace.
~~~~~
I’ve been buying a few things these past few months. And there are a few more things we’d like but I’m not sure I’m ready to commit to them since, for some reason, Big Change triggers the Poor Lady Syndrome in my head and I instinctively pull back on spending.
BOUGHT:
The purse – May
It tickled my funny/irony bone that I was so reluctant to share evidence of my handbag purchase, despite knowing that I wouldn’t buy another one for years, despite knowing that it’s been years since my last purchase, etc., because after I admitted to it, WellHeeled and Stacking Pennies shared similar purchases.
Oh, they didn’t spend over-the-top as much as I did. My needs were more restrictive (very lightweight, crossbody as well as handbag, black for professional use, durable for travel) and more time sensitive so I couldn’t shop sales but it’s also possible I started this chain reaction since WH was the first person I showed the bag to. 😉
Since you asked to see it:
The only thing I didn’t like was the logo on top. But it’s lightweight enough and the right size that I can carry it for lots of things, not just professional events, so it’s getting used pretty frequently. I do get the “take better care of your things!” noogies though, which makes me a bit grumpy and want to go back to using a cheap $10 canvas tote. That’s why I used cheap totes so much, so I don’t have to care. If a leather bag can’t take a little use, then why’d I pay so much for it?
The Avengers DVDs ($30) and The West Wing Complete Series ($90) – September
I have never bought DVDs for myself – as much as I enjoy consuming certain kinds of media, it’s rare for me to want to buy and own it. I’ve got to seriously love it to want to have to store it. And I have a decade long love for The West Wing that hasn’t diminished. I’m so happy to have gotten another WW watcher in Katie of Girl with Red Balloon! When it went on super sale on Amazon, despite not being Blu-Ray (we have a regular player and a Blu-Ray player), I got itchy fingers. I could pre-order Avengers and buy West Wing outright. Even if the last season has always been nearly impossible for me to watch.
UPDATE: Got a refund from Amazon last night. The price dropped since I ordered the DVDs so I have received $10.79 back.
After the slightly traumatic medicating last night, and Doggle finally dozed off, we snuggled in front of the Blu-ray player that PiC fixed and enjoyed a few short scenes. Who said you couldn’t buy a bit of bliss?
IN SEARCH OF:
The Roasting Pan
Our $30 roasting pan has served its duty, through dozens of roast chickens, and even our first married roast turkey, but PiC has finally had it up to HERE with cleaning a slowly rusting out rack and pan.
I finally gave him the nod to get rid of the old pan which means I won’t be able to roast anything for a bit, which gives me the shivers in general as that’s about half my cooking! It was fine going on cleaning boycott but his ogling pans at price points $250, $300 and $400 was a whole other story. Out of Sur la Table with you, sir! We were only in there because of clearance sales anyway.
Unless we have grandchildren who will inherit that $300 pan, I’m sure there’s a perfectly good roasting pan to be had for less. (Though I suppose it might be argued that a roasting pan is worth more than a purse. In fact, I would be willing to make that argument now… drat.)
Undergarments
I hate shopping for clothes, and women’s undergarments both annoy and aggravate me. I know that sounds like the same thing but they cause distinctly different feelings of distaste. Nevertheless, I still find myself in need of well constructed undergarments once in a while and the time is coming. The problem with that is they cost a fair bit of money. Even with discounts, the ones that fit aren’t discounted much, there are very limited brands that make good fit and last a while so I can expect it’ll be about $60 per. Never mind, it’ll have to wait.
~~~~~
I knew it was specifically the job change that had me shying away from spending – just like when you’re grieving, my gut says not to make major decisions. My instincts say that during any transition that feeling to spend is just a trigger, not a real need and so firmly sit on that until the dust settles because I probably didn’t really need that stuff anyway. (It helps that I can envision being surrounded by clutter.)
With the exception of my birthday, an unfortunate bit of timing with that, I stuck to that pretty well and I’m awfully glad of it now.
I don’t mean that I regret my birthday, it was a perfectly lovely time and probably the best birthday I have ever had. Just that I never spend money for my birthday and we had to go and spend it up this year, didn’t we? What’s so special about 30 anyway? 🙂 Ah well. It was a good time.
All of which is to say … I’ve made the first calls for quotes and scheduling. Doggle’s exam and diagnostics alone put us in the first quarter of the [brace yourself] ten thousand dollars I am estimating this could possibly cost. Forget heartburn. I may well have a minor ulcer.
Except you know what? This is why I don’t spend on other things we don’t really need. This is why I save on the big stuff, small stuff, and what people would call “nickel and dime”, and the pennies too. Every bit adds up. So while I’m not wealthy, my cushions are there.
So I challenge myself to cash flow this. Because that’s what this PF-blogger dog mama does. Any and every frustrating thing is a challenge to beat.
He’s had a few rounds of meds and those went really well. I’ve got that mojo back. And we’ll see how it goes from here.
