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3rd - Old and grey
10th - Joy and pain
10th - Farewell Pat
12th - The Ultimate Sad Sally
17th - One on one
24th - Land of plenty
The Ultimate Sad Sally
Nov 12, 2009
Sometimes you read something that just makes you go 'Woah!' Something that really makes you count your lucky stars. This is how I felt when my attention was brought to an article in the UK's Daily Mail by columnist Liz Jones. From now on, I'm afraid I will always think of her as the ultimate Sad Sally. Like many Simple Savers who read about it in the Forum and were gobsmacked, I think there were also a fair few of us who recognised similar traits from our own pre-SS days. It got me thinking, not for the first time this week what with all my decluttering, about all the things I wasted money on. Why, why, why? Did I really think that spending a fortune on a trendy bowl for my coffee table was going to make people think I was stylish and successful? That they were going to like me more? Thank goodness I woke up before I ended up like Liz. I am so much happier now that I have less stuff!
When Noel and I first moved in together we lived for 12 months in a little one-room sleepout. We loved it! It had a bed, a fridge, a sink with one cupboard, a TV, a dressing table and a table and chairs. The table and chairs and the dressing table weren't even ours, neither was the TV or the fridge. Come to think of it, neither was the bed! Some friends of ours lent us their spare one until Noel's parents got a new bed and gave us their old one. I remember the first time my parents came over from England to visit. Dad said 'Crikey - they haven't got much, have they?' He couldn't believe how little we had. But we had what we needed and were happy as pigs in mud. A year later we moved to a proper house and the two of us rattled around in it. Everything we bought was second hand, from the lounge suite to the washing machine. What we didn't buy second hand was donated from elderly relatives who were decluttering; everything from the ironing board to paintings. A friend of ours used to come and visit regularly and she often brought wonderful things to make the place looked lived in, from a vase and a photo frame to a beautiful pot full of pansies. In fact, we used to get given quite a few things from her parents' decluttering sessions too, anything from light shades and curtains to chests of drawers!
There were no posh ornaments back then. No occasional tables, no six different varieties of pot pourri. There wasn't a thing we didn't need and we were as happy as we could be. So what changed? Where did this desire to consume untold quantities of inconsequential stuff come from? Did it happen overnight, or was it a gradual process? I don't think there was any real 'hole in my soul' like Liz Jones. The Sad Sally in me was brought about through naivety, ignorance and later on, selfishness. In the first few years that we lived together, we met and became friendly with other couples. We would go there for dinner and I was amazed. They were the same age as us and had been together no longer than Noel and I had - yet they had beautiful homes, filled with beautiful things. Unlike us, every stick of furniture they bought was brand new. I admit to feeling a little envious - what 19-year-old wouldn't want a home like that? Still, there was no point getting down in the dumps about it - they obviously earned far more money than we did. Of course, they didn't at all. The difference was that they put everything on hire purchase or on credit cards; two things which Noel and I didn't have. It never even crossed my mind that they couldn't possibly have paid cash for it! How little I knew. Ironically, none of those couples are together any more.
Another reason I wasn't able to 'keep up with the Joneses' back then was because I simply didn't have the time. Noel and I worked countless hours together on the farm before the kids were born. Many a night we sat eating fish finger sandwiches in the bath because we were starving and didn't have the time or energy to make anything else. I also didn't drive for the first three years we were together. If we went somewhere, we went together. Even once the boys came along I was still a pretty good combination of a Sad Sally and a Happy Hanna. I never cooked anything that didn't come out of a jar for Noel and I and baking was a foreign word but funnily enough I always made home made baby food! I became friendly with an older woman who took me under her wing and taught me how to bottle and preserve, and we would often go off on missions for second hand bargains.
I think in all honesty, the biggest mistake I made was letting my kids watch TV. I used to have the TV on when Liam was a baby, as most new mums do to pass the time but he never took any notice of it whatsoever. Until one day at 11 months old I changed the channel and Liam unexpectedly came face to face with a new phenomenon called the Teletubbies. His fascination was immediate and from then on, the TV was a constant source of fun new characters and new things. Ali of course was introduced even earlier, having a big brother who was always glued to The Wiggles, Postman Pat or Thomas the Tank Engine. That was when the trouble started. No longer could we go out and about without running into some favourite toy, book or video from off the telly. Dancing to The Wiggles made them happy. I wanted my kids to be happy, therefore I was happy to buy things for them. We never, ever came home empty handed. I wish somebody had made the Consuming Kids documentary years ago!
Still, even then I wasn't THAT bad. There was still one thing stopping me from spending money - guilt. Guilt in that now I was a stay-at-home-mum and Noel was earning all the money, I didn't feel as though I had to right to go spending it on whatever I liked, particularly on myself. That didn't happen until I got a job. I landed my dream job as a newspaper reporter and typesetter and I had bent over backwards to get it. The kids went into childcare for 30 hours a week and we bought a second car. All so that I could go out to work and make us some more money. You have no idea how much I'm cringing right now. What a plonker! My wages were a drop in the ocean compared to the cost of the car and paying for someone else to look after my kids. On the positive side though, everything happens for a reason and if I hadn't got that job, I would never have had the relevant skills on my CV when I sent it to a certain Fiona Lippey! But from then on, there was no stopping me. I was earning my own money, so I could spend away without feeling guilty (even though it barely covered the child care) and I had my own car, so I could go wherever I liked, whenever I liked! Thus began a neverending spate of weekend shopping trips. I also put on a huge amount of weight. Work was barely a ten minute drive away and I had to pack the boys' lunchboxes every day but I never once thought to pack one for me. Instead I would trot around the corner and buy a fat-laden pie and a bottle of Coke for morning tea and a panini for lunch from the cafe. Ooh, writing this makes me want to give myself a good slap!
I'll admit, I was shocked when I read Liz Jones' admission. I had never heard of her before and I think she is very brave putting her - let's face it - stupidity out there for all to see, but I think she is also extremely sad. How can anyone be happy with a cloud of debt like that hanging over your head? I can't feel sorry for her though, because reading about her sounds a lot like the old me, and I sure as heck don't feel sorry for myself; only angry at myself for all the time and money wasted. I wonder what she would make of Simple Savings. She sure could do with it! But I guess that's a big difference between me and her, along with all the other Simple Savers who have been nodding their heads and spotting similarities in the maxed out credit cards, the refusal to open bills and so on. Just like Liz, we've made mistakes with money. We may not all have bat sanctuaries in our gardens (although I do love bats; dear little creatures) but we admit our mistakes and are doing our best to undo the damage and get ahead. We all genuinely want to save money. I don't think Liz does. Maybe it's because she's been the way she is for so long. I transformed myself from Happy Hanna to Sad Sally in five short years. It took another seven years of spending money like water before I found Simple Savings. I think Lose-It-All Liz has been stuck on her merry-go-round for a lot longer than that. Guess I had a lucky escape!
Land of plenty
Nov 24, 2009
Hooray, I do believe I am getting to the end of my decluttering mission! Well maybe not the end, but I've definitely broken the back of it. Sunday was yukky and wet so I bit the bullet and decided to tackle the top of our wardrobe, the kitchen cupboard and *gulp* under the stairs. Isn't it amazing how we humans have a habit of hanging on to cartloads of stuff, 'just in case it comes in handy'? I couldn't believe the junk I found under the stairs! With a ruthless joy I transformed the area from being unable to see or reach anything to having enough space to have a party under there. All the while I was doing this, Noel was outside decluttering his tool shed and the boys were working together as a team, listing their stuff on Trade Me. By the time we had finished, we had a ute and trailer overflowing with rubbish to take to the dump. We also had a car load of stuff to take to the op shop and two more bags of clothes and shoes for Dress for Success. A productive day indeed!
Unfortunately in my haste to accomplish my mission I forgot to write everything down as I decluttered it but it would definitely have been in the hundreds. I can't believe how much easier it is to keep our house looking clean and tidy now! Under the stairs proved to contain some real finds. In my case, it was two brand new carpet offcuts, left over from when we recarpeted the house three years ago - or was it four? I was delighted to come across these as they enabled me to cross a rather expensive wish off my wishlist. For months now I have wanted a large rug for our office. It's the first room most people walk into and has polished wooden floors, which would be very nice if we didn't have dogs. I thought wooden floors would be easier to maintain than carpet. Wrong! They show every hair, every speck of dust and every pawprint, of which there are a constant trail. I thought a nice, big rug would help combat the problem and make things look a bit more presentable but almost fainted at the price of them, at an easy $200 and upwards. I didn't want one THAT badly! On unearthing the carpet offcuts I realised I finally had the problem solved for a fraction of the price! I gleefully unrolled it to find a perfect rectangle, bigger than a pool table. Rolled up inside that was another, smaller rectangle - a perfect size to place inside the door and cover up Ali's pomegranate juice stain! All I need to do is take them to a local firm to get them bound for a minimal cost!
Ali also became the proud owner of some new furnishings for his room. Under the stairs we stumbled upon a very large, mounted stag's head, which Noel proudly shot quite a few years ago now. Not being one to relish having dead animals staring at me from across the room, over the years I subtly managed to relegate Mr Stag, along with several other stuffed, feathered counterparts from pride of place in the lounge to under the stairs - and in desperation, the top of the wardrobe! I pulled them out again at the weekend and suggested that, as we hadn't had them on the wall for soooo long, we should take them to the dump. 'You're robbing me of my youth!' protested Noel, having been the hunter of most of them as a young whippersnapper. Fortunately for him, Ali saved the day. 'Woah! Can I have those for my room?' he asked excitedly. We came to a compromise and disposed of one duck and a pheasant and Master Ali now has the stag's head looking very regal in his room, accompanied by two 'flying' ducks. I hate to admit it, but they actually look really good! Much better than on my lounge wall...
There's still a bit more to do in the decluttering department. We've got one more shed to sort out, which contains everything from 50 rugby balls to as many dog bowls, a doggy 'igloo' and an old bicycle. And in truth, I know I could go through the whole house again and still get rid of a load more. Plus I STILL have to advertise the trampoline and the exercise bike on the Post Office notice board! I am really, really grateful for Decluttering Month. I have got beyond the 'oh my Gaad I can't believe how much money I've wasted' stage to the 'Woohoo! No more mistakes for me!' stage, not to mention the 'Yippee, the house looks SO much better now!' stage. Best of all, I know for sure that I will NEVER allow myself to fill our house with so much stuff ever again. We've just proved how much we don't need and how much extra work having so much clutter makes. I think we can safely say the message has sunk in!
As soon as it stops raining, I'm heading outside to declutter my pot plants too! I love pots and have them all over the place in all sorts of shapes, sizes and colours. Unfortunately I am absolutely hopeless at maintaining them. As I sit here, I can see the occupants of at least half of them have died and they are growing nothing but a nice crop of grass or weeds. It's taken me years of going to the garden centre several times a year to buy new plants, only for the same to happen again but I have FINALLY realised. Penny, you are rubbish with pots. Free yourself of the weeds and clutter and give them away to someone who will appreciate and care for them instead. Ahh, feels so liberating!
Aside from my wayward pots, the garden is looking absolutely glorious at the moment. A few years ago we bought some tiny, baby climbing roses for $4.00 each. We planted them all along the fenceline and now they look an absolute picture. In fact, all our budget, baby plants have now grown and established themselves nicely. The wildflowers we scattered a couple of years back have self seeded everywhere and pop up all over the place in dazzling displays of bright orange poppies and stunning blue cornflowers. The orchard is full of baby fruit, promising a wonderful harvest in the months to come. There are cherries ripening, the strawberries are not far off and Ali's raspberry bush is sporting a bumper crop. We really do live in a land of plenty! I admit to feeling extremely fortunate and content with my lot at the moment. The only problem is, like her master, Minnie the spaniel thinks that raspberries are just the best thing since sliced bread and can often be found sitting under the bush, daintily nibbling off the berries before we can get to them!
It's got to be perfect - doesn't it?
Nov 27, 2009
If there's one thing I've learned through having Chronic Fatigue Syndrome it's that I have to conform to the limits of my body, whether I like it or not. Which to be honest probably isn't such a bad thing, as otherwise I would probably gone through several tanks of petrol by now, spent a small fortune and run myself ragged, just getting stuff ready for Christmas. I had made the old mistake of setting myself an impossible 'to do' list for the upcoming weeks. With my brother-in-law and his fiance coming for Christmas lunch, I decided that I would set myself the goal of redecorating not one, not two, but three rooms before Christmas. They're not coming any more but I still decided that this was necessary. I also seem to have promised no less than five people that I will accompany them Christmas shopping, which works out to one day out a week for the next five weeks, just Christmas shopping! I was full of good intentions to make my own Christmas tree decorations this year too. I checked out Spotlight and the $2 Shop for supplies but I confess to taking the cheat's way out. By the time I had collected everything I needed to make my decorations I realised it was going to cost me more than the barrel of 60 decorations I had seen on special for $19.99 in the Ezibuy catalogue. I'm afraid Ezibuy won.
I admit, it felt a bit like a cop out. After all, I was on a mission to create the perfect Christmas. To me, this meant immersing myself and my family completely in 'warm fuzzies'. I had visions of the boys and I spending cosy Sunday afternoons at the table, singing along to our corny Christmas CD's and making tree decorations together. A lovely thought Penny, but get real. You have 11 and 13 year old boys. You know what's going to happen. Liam would refuse point blank and say it was girly. Ali might give it a go and make one before losing interest and finding something - anything - else to do. Despite my best intentions I knew what would happen - I'd be left to take care of the whole mess. The boys love helping me decorate the Christmas tree each year, but actually MAKING the decorations? That would involve sitting still for far too long! And at the end of the day, the only person who really cares what the tree decorations actually look like is me. Simply HAVING a tree in the lounge for a few weeks is enough for the boys. If signifies to them that Christmas is coming and it's having that tree there that is special to them, not the things hanging off it.
For me, putting up the Christmas tree meant it was my birthday! I absolutely loved our Christmas tree when I was little. We brought out the same decorations year after year and the tree was just a glorious mass of shambolic colour. A friend of ours couldn't understand why her young son wasn't interested in her Christmas tree, but loved ours. We knew why. At their place, he wasn't allowed to touch the Christmas tree, let alone help decorate it. Everything about their tree had to be perfect, from the colour scheme to each artfully placed bauble. The tree wasn't about him, it was all about her. Years later when my own kids came along, I remembered that and from the time they were big enough to stand on their own two feet they were allowed to decorate the Christmas tree however they liked. Even though it used to kill me watching them! Half the tree would be bare and the other half would be boughing under the strain of having half a dozen decorations hung on each branch. But the important thing was, they thought it was beautiful and it made them happy. The only time I was allowed to intervene was right at the end, when it came to putting the star on the top of the tree as the boys were too small. But now Liam is so much taller than me, I have a feeling I'll be out of a job this year!
So thanks to Ezibuy, my Christmas stress levels are already dropping. Even one less thing to do is helpful at this time of year! And I will decorate - but only as and when I feel up to it. I don't know what I was thinking. As long as there was beer and enough people for a family game of cricket, my brother-in-law would have been content. I'm sure he wouldn't even notice whether the walls were a different colour. Once again, the only person who would have cared what colour they were would have been me. It's daft isn't it? I mean, we have people dropping in all year round and don't give a hoot about the decor so why is it we feel that everything has to be perfect at Christmas? That all of a sudden things aren't 'good' enough any more? I think I must have watched too many Christmas movies over the years!
It's funny what you remember about Christmases past. I used to think my parents were dreadfully mean because they would only let me open ONE present on Christmas morning. After that, I wasn't allowed to open any more until after everyone had let their Christmas dinner go down. Sometimes that wasn't until 4 o'clock, by which time the suspense was killing me! Only then was I allowed to play Santa, divvying up all the gifts into piles and placing them one by one at the recipients' feet. Then we all had to take it in turns to open our gifts, so that everyone's attention was focused on that one person. Of course now I can see what it was all about. Mum and Dad were simply prolonging the anticipation. This alone made the day better for everyone, especially me. The excitement wasn't all over in five minutes, in a flurry of ripped wrapping paper. It meant that Christmas Day wasn't all about the presents. It was about simply being together. With the added bonus of being able to eat and drink as much as we liked all day!
As for the presents, I've lived through 36 Christmases now and the ones I remember most aren't the ones which cost the most money, but the ones which made me laugh. Like the massive undies my Aunt Min used to buy for me unfailingly, every year. As I got bigger, so did the knickers. Bridget Jones had nothing on me! 'I didn't know which size you were, so I got you two!' she would explain, as I unwrapped my neck-high undies, one in size 18, the other in size 20. I was 12 years old at the time! But that was one of the things I loved most about her. That and the fact she would make me an enormous trifle every year, even though I couldn't stand trifle! 'Just for you, Ducky!' she would say with a beaming smile. I would dutifully force down my trifle but I didn't really mind. It was all part and parcel of Christmas and I would have had it any other way.
So I've given myself a good talking to and am going to do my best to be a relaxed host this Christmas. The kids know we don't have a money tree at the bottom of the garden and their Christmas lists are mercifully short so far - although it's early days, there's no guarantee they will stay that way! They also know to expect 'recession size' stockings from Santa this year but they say they don't mind and I actually believe them. As long as we have Cliff Richard singing 'Mistletoe and Wine' and Mum and Grandma dancing around the kitchen while peeling potatoes and glazing the ham, it will feel like Christmas to us all!