How Cheap Is She?

I'm real, real cheap. You may have realized that by now. But Chris realized that my cheapness had come to a whole new level when he came home one day last week to find this pyramid on the kitchen counter:

Yes, not one but FIVE boxes of TAZO Passion Tea. All five purchased at Marshall's for the fabulous price of...$20!

Now before you roll your eyes, this is my FAVORITE summer beverage. I drink it the way some people drink coffee. But before last week, I was only able to buy it at Starbucks for $4/cup. I honestly never even thought about purchasing it elsewhere. Just goes to show that a little poking around the 'housewears' section at Marshall's can sometimes pay off!

Oh and also - we refinanced our mortgage this week. It was only moderately a pain in the tookus (thanks to my meticulous filing system).  This happened after a long time of hemming and hawing - should we, shouldn't we, will rates spike or stay put? We finally decided that enough was enough and it was time to refinance from 6.25% to 4.3%. That savings is going to be great help as we launch our great WE TRY RESTAURANTS blog initiative, that will hopefully be penned by the great and wonderful Chris...don't hold your breath. 

Something I Love

Drying laundry outside in the summer was 'green' long before it was cool. I love doing it to the point where I used to hang my clothes off the fire escape at our old apartment. There's something about a scratchy, sun-dried towel that I just inexplicably love...

Your Mom is here...

Actual transcript of a conversation I had with a school security guard on Wednesday:

(phone rings)

Me: Happy Wednesday, Mrs. Cakounes
Guy: Ummm...someone's here.
Me: Who?
Guy: Your...mom.
Me: Oh yay!
Guy: Yeah...she said she has clothes to drop off for you?
Me: Okay, can you hold on to them there? I'll come down and get them after this class.
Guy: Your mom drops your clothes off?
Me: Yep! See ya soon.

(Note: This is funnier if you consider that lately, with the onset of good weather, lots of parents have been 'dropping off clothes' for ladies who aren't wearing enough...)

Thanks for altering my dress and dropping it off at school, Mom! :)

Workin' on Decoratin'

I have a favorite spot in all the world. It is, creepily, a cemetary.

We live in a city, so green space is a bit hard to find. But we do have a beautiful, sprawling cemetary close to our house that is meticulously maintained with both old-growth and perennial/annual plantings. I love the whole 2 mile loop of it, but my favorite part is to look right down the main drag at the path between all the old trees. Like this:

One of my future plans is to stand in this very spot and take pictures of this path in all four seasons, and then frame it for the living room. So far I've only got Spring and Fall...Summer and Winter still to come!

Secret Dreams - My Clandestine Life as a CCL

We all have our own secret dreams, our own fantastic places where we hope to see ourselves someday. For me, an awakening of one type or another appeared last Thursday.

I wish I could be the Crazy Coupon Lady.

I was watching this show on TLC called 'Extreme Couponing.' It featured people (okay, women) who go out of their minds to find and use coupons to their benefit. One woman featured had a pantry/freezer that was so well-stocked that they lived off of it for three months while her husband was unemployed. These people dive in dumpsters, bother neighbors, and chase flying trash for coupons.

And you're shaking your head and laughing when the cashier's total goes from $250 to $6.

All those groceries for $6?! Just from coupons?! No. NO! What have I been missing! I've always thought myself a bit of a maven with internet coupon codes but this...this is insanity. And why haven't I been doing it.

One reason is that the newspaper has nearly become obsolete in our culture. One of our favorite friends is a newspaper reporter and I made the mistake of turning to Chris and saying, "Oh honey, we have a grill now, so we'll need to get a newspaper subscription" in front of him. He bemoaned the fact that a once prominent industry has now been condemned to a life of starting fires. No, I don't often use coupons at the grocery store. But I'm starting to try and find a happy medium between 'nothing' and 'crazy coupon lady.' Here's how:

- Emailing my favorite brands. I've emailed Stonyfield Farm, Chobani, Dannon, Quaker Oats and Blue Buffalo to tell them how much I love their products. Just find the place on the website where it says 'contact us.' Give them some sugar and they usually give some back to you in the form of great coupons. Don't tell them, but a few of them I've emailed more than once from different email accounts just to get more coupons...

- Coupon codes. Not great for groceries but a necessity for online shopping. I usually start at www.retailmenot.com - if they website you want isn't there, try signing up on the website's email list. I keep a seperate email account JUST for coupons and junk. 99% a 'welcome customer' email will have some coupon codes for free shipping in them.

- Following sale patterns - a tip from the CCL. Sales tend to rotate every three months so buy what you need now. Last week, I bought six boxes of Celestial Seasoning's tea while they were on sale, 3/$5. That should last me through the end of the school year at least.

- Online, printable coupons. Try sites like www.weusecoupons.com, www.couponcabin.com, and websites for your favorite brands. I make lists of what I know I'll buy along with the brand, print and go!

Housewifery

Over the weekend, I went to visit my sainted Nana. She was on my back about two things: having a baby (sorry, girlfriend - did you know you can't leave those alone in the house?!) and leaving Chris in the house, alone, without dinner and GASP - without his laundry done for the week. When she found out I hadn't done the laundry yet, I think she actually felt guilty. She sheepishly looked at me and said, "Will he be upset?"

Hell no he won't be, if he knows what's good for him. But he's also not the kind of guy who will just ignore it if it piles up. I really like knowing that all the clothes are clean and put away by Sunday at 9pm but sometimes it just doesn't happen. I worked all day on Saturday and came home to a sparkling kitchen and a load of whites tumbling away. But I always have to remember that when Chris says, 'I did a load of laundry,' it means that there's a wet load in the washer. Sometimes it's the linguistics of the thing that gets in the way.

Still and all, when my Nana was my age (1956), you didn't just ignore the laundry. I imagine her having long days spent like Calpurnia's (nerd alert!),  cutting biscuits and swatting bottoms out the door, sipping lemonade and spraying starch on my grandfather's shirts. Either that or something like Tuesdays in the Little House on the Prairie, she and my aunt singing merrily while they strung sheets and bloomers out to dry. I'm sure it wasn't like that. Stories from my father alone disprove the sense of peace she always emits when discussing the wonders of being a housewife.

Nowadays, I'm working full time AND expected to do the bulk of the housework. I don't know what starch is for. I didn't have an iron until about six months ago when I acquired my first really excellent tablecloth. And while I'm no stranger to a little elbow grease around the house, Chris is the Bathroom Tzar, and the Tzar of Trash, and I'm not saying he doesn't help out because he does. But at the end of the day, when there's dog hair in every corner and every towel smells like sweat, it's me who expects myself to go get the vaccuum and whip out the bleach. No one else but me holding myself to that elusive standard that my Nana set so long ago. When I get upset with myself for leaving the laundry until 9pm on Tuesday night, there's no one else to be upset - I am, after all, my own housewife.

The Conversations We Have

Chris: So I was thinking today. Maybe after I pass my test, we should both quit our jobs and take a year's sabbatical.
Me: What!?
Chris: You know...rent like an RV or something and drive around for a year. Or move to Vancouver. Or Colorado! We can get jobs.
Me: What!?
Chris: Like, stupid jobs...like waitressing or bartending. We'll have enough money saved to cover the house while we're gone and get a cheap apartment.
Me: What?!
Chris: Just a thought. Maybe just for a couple of months?
Me: So a vacation is what you're looking for?

Our last vacation...a bit wild. 

Now, I am not the queen of Darkness in all things, so I did entertain his flights of fancy here for awhile. I'd be all up for taking some summer time and driving the California coast with the dog in the backseat, Travels with Charley style. Maybe there is a way to have ourselves a little adventure sooner or later...

Car Update

Well, just when you thought my car drama was over...it wasn't.

The car came out of the first shop with issues. The most worrysome were the shaking (the constant, constant shaking!) and the maddening issue that my rear defroster didn't work. The shop at my school took the windshield off after I was assured that it was working by the original shop, only to discover that CrapShop had snapped a wire during installation and taped it over with black electrical tape to make it look as if it was still one part. Three rear windshields later, I was in tears at a body shop in Revere over Christmas vacation, begging them to just fix it. That's right - I went over a month, in the winter, without a rear defroster. Sucked.

So you can imagine my surprise when I brought it in to have the alignment checked at school a few weeks ago. It needed to go back to the body shop - something was wrong. Long story short, the car did another week-long stint at another collision/mechanical/alignment shop while they tried to figure out just how much damage was still left from my accident. Which was, as you may recall, in October. By the time I got the car back yesterday afternoon, the old girl was the new recipient of:

- A new rear axel
- All new rear shocks and struts
- A repaired steering column
- Two new wheels to replace rear ones that were, in the words of New Shop guy, "bent beyond recognition."
- Several hours worth of labor driving, fixing, and re-driving the car. (A half tank of gas worth, mind you.)

This round of repairs was $6900, bringing the insurance company to a total investment of over $12,000 in my car. I know. I can't believe it either. I bought the car for a little over $13,000 six years ago...this whole thing makes no sense. And no, they won't total it after it's been fixed once. So it's me and the Rolla, driving into the ground, from here on out. I'll post again at 100k miles!

Footnote: My darling dearest Ashley keeps referring to the car as 'Joan Rivers', because she's all new parts. Har har har. If only the car looked as good as Joan does on the outside!

A Tale of Two Ranges

Okay. I posted something on facebook last week about how I had purchased a new stove. Heck yes, I did. Our oven has been inconsistent since the day we moved in - set it to 375, for instance, and an hour later it will *beep* that it's heated and the temp is 150. I finally figured out that if you light one of the back burners it will eventually get to temp. I decided to get an oven thermometer and it's been a hassle ever since.

So while Chris was off last week, he asked if I wanted to go pick out a new one. Why not? There was a great appliance sale at a local shop and I was all for it. I picked the one I wanted and scheduled a delivery date. I paid the man and got excited. And then...

I found it for less money at another place. The local store refused to match a big-box store price so I went elsewhere with my buisness. However, the big-box store couldn't deliver it anytime I would be home. So out I strolled, shrugging my shoulders. I tried. Chris was stunned that I didn't go through with it but I'm not. Why, you ask?

You know, our parents leave us with interesting things. Mine instilled in me a Puritan need to wring the life out of anything before discarding it. My parents to this day are still using the washer and dryer that we used as kids. And why not? They still work great. I seem to recall us using a dryer at one point that required wedging a stick into the door in order to get it to work. But did it dry stuff? You betcha. All four burners on that oven still work and I usually can finagle the oven. I'll buy a new oven when it REALLY breaks. I stuck the $850 I almost dropped on that range into my savings account and I feel great about it.

But talk to me next time I bake something...I'll probably be cursing said Puritan tendencies. C'est la vie.

The Blizzard of 2010

If you live on the East Coast, or were traveling over Christmas week, or had an inkling of what was going on in the news in the last week, you should know that we had a HUGE blizzard. HUGE. I haven't seen this much snow in years. Along with the snow came phenomenal winds that left the dog refusing to use the bathroom for days. Unfortunately, the storm left us without a screen door (flew right off the hinges and across the backyard) and a persistently loose shutter. The screen door was really awful and a bane to our existence, so it wasn't until today that I mourned its loss - the dog strolled out the open door as I went to put her leash on. Oops. Guess it served a purpose after all.

Anyhoo, storm pics below. We stayed inside for two days straight before finally shoveling ourselves out. Yes, shoveling...Chris claims we're 'too young' for a snowblower. Sigh.

View out the front door

View from the porch window

View of our neighbor's car, 20 minutes after he last snowblowed. Poor guy. 

Penny was, as usual, little help during the storm. 

Thoughts to Ponder

"Every consistently played fantasy sooner or later explodes into life."
- VonDoderer

My wonderful book-reading friend, Caitlin, suggested David James Duncan's The Brothers K to me right before our wedding. I devoured it in Mexico and vowed that our first son would be named Kincaid after the book's protagonist. Chris has hemmed and hawed about this for awhile but purchased me a copy of my own for my birthday, a move that I see as acceptance of my demand for nomenclature. I found this line in a chapter heading on Friday. It hit me like a ton of bricks. What we are living now is exactly what I have always imagined - our current life is my consistently played fantasy that has now exploded into existence. This line is like a tiny, fortune-cookie love letter to Chris and Penny that explains the depth and breadth of my committment to our family. This is my fantasy and I am lucky enough to watch it explode every day. From here, the are other, tinier fantasies that we are only beginning to consider, so keep an eye on our ever expanding American dream...

xoxo e

(I nearly posted this on my classroom blog...oops! Getting rid of my klutziness may be the one fantasy that never explodes...)

Who Are Those Jerks with their Christmas Lights Up Already?

Chris' parents gave us a relic from his childhood...their 4' Santa! We hooked him up and, regardless of a sketchy electrical plug and a quick whiff of ozone, he works! We've officially become the crazy folks with the Christmas lights up before Thanksgiving. 

Your Luck is About to Change

So...it's taken me awhile to get around to this post. It honestly still freaks me out to think about it. This all goes back to about three weeks ago when Chris and I ordered Chinese food for dinner one night and I got a fortune cookie fortune that said, 'your luck is about to change.' I had had pretty good luck so you can imagine how nervous I was. I then got into a major car accident which resulted in me spinning around in the midst of traffic, ending up facing oncoming cars. The words from my mouth in that moment were, and I'm not making this up, "Well, it's been real." I was convinced that I was faced with death.

However, I made it. The person who hit me also made it. I will say nothing about that person besides the fact that the accident was not my fault. However, even with this fact, it's important to point out that even when it is not your fault, you are responsible for a massive amount of paperwork, phone calls, and general headaches. I also ended up in the emergency room for a head check (so far, so good!) so that's another round of claim numbers and midwesterners to call.

I am now on my second rental car after the first one got a flat tire. On a major highway. On my way to turn it into the third rental dealer in one day after being told that the first two had no cars to give me. I am now driving a silly Ford Fusion until my Corolla is healed, probably sometime around Thanksgiving. I have nothing against Ford, and I actually kind've like the car; I just prefer my own sweet ride. I'm convinced that car saved my life, as the cops/tow truck people on the scene spent some time trying to figure out how I didn't flip over. It was a steel suspension and a solidly built car, and Toyota, I thank you.

So if my posts are short and snippy lately...it's been a long couple of months. Combine that with the fact that Chris and I are trying to go until Nov. 1st before turning the heat on and I'm downright feeling unlucky. But hopefully writing about it will finally make some of this anxiety fade, right? Right?

Thank you, Clare and Dad, for sending flowers. Thank you, Mom, for the edible arrangement. Thank you Chris for taking a day off of work to make sure I was okay. Thank you to my co-workers who stepped in and helped my classes get by in my absense. Thank you to my sisters and friends for the constant texts and calls to make sure I was okay. I am so thankful for all of you. Moments like this make you think of all the things you have to live for...let's hope my luck is changing as we speak!

Sigh. I think I'll watch some TV now. I'll post about the car another time. For now, here's what it looked like last time I saw it:

Reginald

Spooky...

About two days ago, I was talking to my mom about the house. Her first question, of course, was whether or not we had sensed any supernatural beings within the old walls yet. I assured her that we were, as of this point, ghost-free. The comment below was posted anonomously, but it gives us a) reassurance that we are indeed living with a spectre and b) the knowledge that he comes in peace AND had wireless installed in the house already. Awesome! Whomever wrote this (I still think it was Mom) obviously put time and effort into it and deserves to have it posted. Enjoy...

Hello, I suppose I should introduce myself as I didn't get the chance during your previous visits. My name is Reginald Bertram Fellowbottom III. I am the ghost that haunts this house.

Well, actually, its not the house as much as the plot of land that the structure is built upon (and once quarter of your neighbor's abode). You see, back some time in the 1670's, the exact date has escaped me after these few centuries, I and my kin were engaged in a bit a of a tussle with the local indigenous people regarding the best use of this land. They believed it was best suited for the growing of community vegetables, some of which were promised to us to keep us alive through the long and grueling New England winters. I thought it would make for the perfect place to erect my future estate's ballroom. And in all fairness, we had the ones with the muskets.

It was during my last encounter with the natives that, as the Bard had put, I was shuffled off this mortal coil. After we had "cleared" out this minor infestation, I was accosted by the medicine man, or shaman, or witch doctor, or whatever the bloody hell these savages called this man. Apparently, we had "removed" his family and he was come seeking revenge. While my men were able to deal with him swiftly, he managed to utter quite a curse before he passed on. Our guide was able to sum up the hex as such, "For the blood you spilled here, you should be rewarded with dancing here for eternity." 

I see now that the idea of dancing was a purely poetic stab at my ballroom.

Eternity appears to be rather accurate.

Shortly thereafter I succumb to a virulent paralysis that devoured first the function of my legs, then progressed over the course of a full year up my torso before ultimately stopping my heart. 

Since that time I have been milling futilely on this plot. As a man who has delved into the heart of Africa, seen and tasted the wonders of the Orient, and sailed across the ocean, my existence here is proving disasterously boring. Even my only pleasure for these many years, alarming and frightening the still living, provides me no entertainment. I see no further reason why I should continue this practice. Therefore, I have decided that you will be the first living specimens that I will co-habitat with peacefully. Please do not be alarmed. I fancy the kitchen, as I enjoy pretending to eat. It may not be uncommon for you to see food you've prepared float before dropping suddenly to the floor. Take comfort knowing this phenomenon is just an old ghost trying to taste once more some warm buttery bread, or perhaps a berry jam. 

Alas, I must conclude this missive. The chipmunks out back appear to be engaged in a sort of domestic spat, something that will surely grant me a few hours reprieve from the crushing boredom. I look forward to boarding with you and will surely write again.

Yours in eternity, forever,

R.B. Fellowbottom, III