It doesn't take much to make me deliriously happy.

This is the look I got yesterday when I asked Brennan and Connor to do all of the housework before they went to their Dad's for the weekend.
This is the look I got when I told them that they'd get $15 each if they did all the housework before they went to their Dad's for the weekend.

I'm now sitting here with a totally uncluttered-by-housework weekend stretching before me. I have a list of things that I want to have accomplished by the time the boys get back, but the list is mostly things that I want to do, not that I have to do.

*happy sigh* Pure bliss.

Skinflint Sunday

Someone (I can't remember who) has a thing on her blog called 'Shoestring Sunday' where she talks about things she does to stretch a dollar. That's a great idea, but speaking as someone grappling with a frugality kick that has to stretch one wage over five people, a dog, two cats, two budgies and a mortgage... then 'shoestring' doesn't cut it. Plus it doesn't have the alliteration thing happening which I feel is important to have. So I'm going to have a 'Skinflint Sunday' post.

Have you ever noticed that lovely things come and go, but ugly lasts forever? It's not just a perception; it really does because if you hate the look of something, you won't wear/use/eat it.

First thing.... don't buy anything unless you love it. I have dining furniture that I bought as a stopgap buy twenty years ago. I've never been into the country kitchen look, but my then husband had only 1 afternoon to go shopping with me, so we grabbed something. Anything. I'll probably be buried with these bloody things. In twenty years I haven't been able to shake them. I'd throw a lit match on them, but I'd probably burn the whole house down if I did that, and I'm very fond of my house. It's where I keep my stuff.

So learning from this mistake I don't buy clothes unless I adore them. Sometimes I still make a mistake. I bought a 3-pack of socks a couple of years ago, and one pair was this swirly black design on a white background. "How hip and groovy is this, man?" I said to myself, because I'm down with the current street talk of the young folk. I bought the socks, scampered home, and the next day put them on to go to work.

I'd forgotten that I hate wearing white socks under anything trousery. (It goes back to primary school, when Sally Went bullied me mercilessly for years about many things, one of which was this fashion issue. When Michael Jackson made white socks the 'in' thing over much of the globe, our school was one of the few places too scared to follow his lead.) It was hideous. Every step I took I could see a flash of white (with a bit of swirly black, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough, people!!!!!) I had to go home at lunchtime and change my socks. It was interfering with my teaching. I usually perch on top of the teachers desk so I'm taller than all of the giants I teach, but how could I expose my revolting white-socked ankles to the critical eyes of teenagers? I was hiding behind the desk and skulking around the edges of the classrooms all morning. I looked shifty and untrustworthy, which isn't the look an educator of the young should have. (At least I didn't have a bag of lollies with me as well.)

So what did I do with the socks? A lesser woman would've thrown them out. But I, Frogdancer, am made of sterner stuff. I simply wear them on the weekends. Usually Saturday. Housecleaning errand running day. Often I spend the entire day at home, so no-one sees the trauma-causing white flashes as I skip around, and I am able to forget I'm wearing them because there's no one around to recoil in horror if my ankle gets seen. I'm gradually wearing them out, saving my far more acceptable dark socks a day's wear, so it's all good.

Except occasionally you can be caught out. Yesterday I drove Connor (otherwise known as Tadpole) to a friend's house to drop him off at a Christmas party. I had the socks on, shining like a lighthouse with their beacon of whiteness between my jeans and my runners. Little did I realise that I was also invited. Connor forgot to tell me. I was mingling among the general public with my swirly socks on. Imagine my mortification. I needed a couple of glasses of champagne to steady myself.

Until I realised that I was getting the benefit of my second Skinflint Sunday tip, which I will share with you all now.

Shave your head. Or at least clipper it. Most of the people at the party either didn't know me, or hadn't clapped eyes on me for ages, so their attention was on my head and not my feet. (There was another woman there who also had clippered her head, but she'd taken it a step further and had purpled her hair as well. I felt positively conservative...)

Getting the kids to cut your hair saves a fortune in hairdressing bills. It's fantastic. You save $$$ by not needing to blow dry your hair every morning, (though I'll have to spend $$$ on some beanies if I still have this style next winter, so I guess it all evens out.) But there is a small word of caution I have to give, should you be decide to follow my lead. Make sure you choose the child with the clippers carefully.

"Connor, my nimble-fingered 11 year old, I need a haircut. Will you oblige?" I said. (This may or may not be verbatim. This conversation happened days ago, after all.)

"Certainly, mother," he replied in a most agreeable fashion. "I'll go and set everything up."

"Thank you my dear," I said. "I'd like a number 3, if you please."

"No sooner said than done," and he whipped off and got everything out.

When he'd finished I inspected his handiwork in the mirror. There was an awful lot of skull showing in between the hair.

"Prithee, good son," I said, going a little Shakespearean for no apparent reason, "My hair seems somewhat shorter than I'd envisaged. Which numeral didst thou useth?"

Connor glanced down at the clippers. A look of horror crossed his face. "It's a number 2..." he gasped.

So make sure that you use a son or daughter who isn't numerically challenged. Though come to think of it, by using a smaller clipper size... I'm using the same amount of electricity for the greatest amount of hair cuttage!! I've probably saved at least a cent on my power bill. That definitely falls under the heading of Skinflint.

So to sum up....

1. Wear your ugly clothes as often as possible to wear them out, whilst saving your pretty clothes for when you're in public. Your children will love you no matter how frumpy your socks look. They're obliged to. You gave them life, after all.

2. Homemade haircuts save time, money and embarrassment at Christmas parties. Well worth the initial investment of buying the clippers.

3. Then you have enough money to buy your youngest son really expensive gifts and gadgets.( preferably Wii games and stuff like that). It's really worth it. I have to be quiet I'm Tadpole and right now mum (Frogdancer) is taking a photo of the socks. I have to hurr

YouTube - Raymond Crow's Show

YouTube - Raymond Crow's Show

Have a look at this... it's amazing. Connor and I loved it.

Yesterday was a write off. All I did was sleep and read. (Actually, I quite enjoyed myself. I had no idea that I was as tired as I was. It was a real doona day. Mmmmmmmmmm...)

In between the nanna naps and the reading (I got through half of Sara Douglass's 'Pilgrim' yesterday) I also finalised my Flexirent agreement. My advice to you is never never never be stupid enough to go into one of these things. I needed a new computer 3 years ago, and I listened to my brother-in-law who said that Flexirenting was a great idea because it allows you access to the rest of your money while you still get to use the new computer. I was just about to begin huge kitchen renovations, so I thought that what he said made sense. However... I've paid about a thousand dollars more for that computer over the course of 3 years, and when the agreement time runs out you either have to hand the computer back or pay them even more money to keep it. They wanted me to pay $400, but I got them down to $200. Cheaper than buying another new computer, but considering the battery has died so the laptop is now effectively a desk top..... it's still a lot of money. Oh well, you live and learn! Considering that through work I've now got a laptop that I pay $8 a week on, and with the Flexirent one I was paying $117 a month.... I'm so looking forward to that money being freed up. I'll be rich(er)!

Blogspot is annoying me this morning...

For some reason my post for this morning seems to have been pushed down past yesterday's post. Please scroll down past the 'random meme' post and there it'll be. Gossip, guitars and a delicious list of novels....

Lovely day.

What a fantastic day!! I spent all of it with a definite bubble of happiness inside me. Everything went well, even when I had to bellow at the boys for being lazy little so-and-sos for not doing any housework. I kept the bubble because they went and did all the work while I made 4 meals of leek and potato soup, 2 meals of tuna pasta sauce and 80 cupcakes/muffins with green and red icing.

I guess it began on Friday, when I got some quilting books in the mail from England. Yes, I'm putting in the research. It was all going well until it dawned on me that when you're quilting, not only do you have to sew all of the patches together, then sew the wadding and the backing onto it as well... you THEN have to sew all over it in a million different directions to keep them all together. That just doesn't seem fair. I don't have a sewing machine, so that's a world full of hand sewing to make a quilt to keep me warm at night. (Not having a man and all.... what's a girl to do? Apart from have an electric blanket.... oh how I love my blanket....)

I was almost about to give the whole idea away... resign myself to cranking up the electric blanket for 10 months of the year... (I'm a bit of a reptile)... when my friend Sandy called. I mentioned in the course of the conversation about the inordinate amount of sewing that quilting demands, and she said that she had an old sewing machine she'd lend me. Can you believe it? I'm so rapt. So the quilting/doona cover thing is all set to go. I was flicking through the quilting books today, and I'm looking forward to giving it a burl. Honestly, how hard can it be? One of my books is 'Quilting for Dummies', so if they can do it, then so can I!!

Then, after my whinge at my technological ineptitude about links yesterday, Lightening posted a comment explaining how to do them. How fantastic is that? I haven't had a chance today to get near the computer to try and follow her directions, but now I know they're there when I need them. I don't need to rush out and order 'HTML For Dummies.' I'm a happy technophobe.

Then there was the meme...

I tagged Suze from Peasoup. She was apparently pleased by this (thank goodness. You never know if people are going to like you or loathe you when you tag.) Then later in her post, she mentioned buying wool on line from the Bendigo Knitting mills. She included a link. (Obviously she's more savvy than I am.) I was beside myself with glee. I've been wanting to buy some more wool for ages, but the wool shop near me is a bit limited in range, and Marta's, while gorgeous, is a bit exxy. All of the online shops I've seen have been in the UK or the US, which made me reluctant to buy online. It seemed a bit silly to fly wool into the country when we've got a gazillion sheep here. Suddenly, there was the answer. I chortled happily and tapped the link. Fifteen minutes later, I'd ordered a pattern and some soft green wool. I can't tell you how pleased I was. I've saved the site in my favourites, so now I'm set! How lucky is that?

Then I wandered out and glanced at the veggie garden, and guess what I saw? Purple beans. No, I'm not kidding. I was pretty darned pleased, because they said on the packet that these things are purple, and then when you cook them they go green. "Get out!" I said as I looked at them in the shop. I had to plant them and see.

See? How bizarre does that look? I think it's fantastic. We haven't cooked any yet, but when we do I'll have my head jammed half way in the saucepan to follow the colour change. I'll let you know how it goes.

Sandy reminded me to update about the afghan. I should apologise to all those who have been on the point of emailing me demanding to know how it's progressing. I realise that for many of you, knowledge of the progress of my acrylic basket weave afghan is the only thing getting you out of bed each morning. Well... on Friday night I officially passed the half way mark. (I can hear a round of applause... ). I'm very pleased about it, because when I started with it a while ago, I knew I wouldn't get it finished before summer came. So in my head, I thought that if I . .. (I've just realised what a stupid thing that was to type. Where else apart from my head would I be thinking? I don't think my spleen has had any good ideas lately. What an idiot.)

Anyway, I had an idea that if I made it to the half way point this year, that'd be good. Well, now I'm at least 10 rows past that. (At 253 stitches per row, that's not bad going.) I really love the feeling that now I'm doing next year's knitting!!! I'm time travelling! Already this thing is as tall as a toddler. I'm starting to look forward to when it's finished, because it's big enough now to spread over my knees when I'm knitting, and I have to say that it's rather cosy. I have visions of curling up on the couch in the dead of night watching all new episodes of 'Boston Legal' all snuggled up in my afghan. What care I if the temperature is a bit nippy??? Under the afghan it'll be tropical.

I've got more to say but it's getting late. Before I go I'll just quickly mention a comment Scott made on the post I wrote yesterday on the 7 weird things meme. It was very funny, but he will not suck me in to his twisted plot to make the world read shockingly bad authors.

I realise I said that once I start a book I have to finish it. It's absolutely true.

However... nothing... I repeat.... NOTHING will make me read another Isabel Allende book again. (Unless it's on the booklist for work and I have to teach it.) Scott is a cruel, evil sort of person, who will stop at nothing to torment me. He's devoted to the woman and knows my views. Honestly I can't see why anyone would want to plough through one of her books unless it was superglued to your hands and someone had a gun to your head forcing you to read it. Even then, I think that death by gunshot would be a preferable fate.

So nice try, oh so-called friend of mine, but I'll resist. (It's a shame, because the opening sentence sounds interesting, but I know all too well the agony that will come.....)

My perspective on a sustainable,balanced life.

I'm trying to get started with this, but I've got a very interested 11 year old bobbing around behind me, looking over my shoulder and telling me what to write. It's very distracting. (And no, Connor. I'm NOT going to write 'me as a happy mum.' !)

I've been reading other blogs over the last few days, and it's been very inspiring. Women are really making a difference, in their own small ways, and it's been fascinating to read of the things people are doing to simplify the lives of their families. The handcrafts, cooking and gardening are amazing to see, and (now he's doing the Oompa Loompa song beside me. He's not helping!!!) it's a truly humbling thing to see women from all over the world quietly going about the day to day business of nurturing the people who are important to us. I guess it's what we've always done, but it's nice to see proof that we're not alone....

However, one thing I've noticed, and that most of the blogs I've read have been written by people who are either retired or are SAHMs. I suppose this makes sense in one respect... you are the the ones with a tad more disposable time. But what about people like me?

I work full time, I have no partner, and I want to provide the fullest, healthiest and happiest life I can for my family. (Without turning them into spoiled brats.) I want my kids to enjoy their childhood, but I certainly want the rest of us to enjoy it too, if you know what I mean! I am fortunate enough to have earned my degree , so I have a reasonable wage to support us, but it isn't enough to provide everything. Again, I'm sure you know what I mean!

I feel like I've got a foot in both camps. I'm moving towards simpler living, but I'm not going to go overboard about it. There's got to be a balance of quality of life, time and money.

I work, and I love it. I wouldn't give up my career (such as it is!) for anything. The kids I teach are funny, smart people... and gee they make me laugh! Every day is different, and my work in the classroom is entertaining and fulfilling. We learn a bit, we have a laugh, and it's all good. The people I work with are (generally) great, and I've made some close friends from here. I feel very lucky I fell into this profession because given the size of my mortgage, I'll probably be working at the school till I'm 92. (I'm 44 now.)

But...

I love pottering around at home on the weekends and the holidays..... I do all of our baking and I love that the kids have my biscuits in their lunch boxes, and they come home and demolish a quarter of a home-made cake each after school. We have take-away maybe once a month if I'm really tired, and I'm making more and more things from scratch and eliminating powdered packaged chemically garbage from our diet. I've never been a 'foodie', but over the past year or so I've broadened my horizons. (And dragged the kids along with me.)

We started a vegie garden last year, and my enthusiasm for it has only grown. My oldest son was sure I'd get sick of it, so it's nice to prove him wrong!! I enjoy planting new things and trialling how they go, havesting produce and eating it (anyone want some silverbeet???) and feeling good about feeding the kids organic food.

But...

forget about buying organic produce... who can afford to feed a family organically??? We'd go broke! My challenge is to conserve our finances to be able to spend $$ on the things that are important to us.

So, I find it interesting that in my quest to be frugal, I'm quietly picking up many environmentally responsible habits. Who would've guessed that being 'tight' would be helping the earth? I'm happy that I'm doing lots of little things to improve the quality of our little corner of the world, but the bottom line is that I won't do 'environmentally' things just for the sake of it. I can't afford to throw the balance of quality of life, finances and time out of whack.

Does this make me shallow? Or merely practical?

Anyway, this blog is written from the perspective of a suburban girl juggling a fair few plates, racing from one thing to another and trying to do her best in everything she does.

Sounds like every other woman out there, doesn't it?