Rethinking the Non-Negotiable

I've written before on frugality creep, and the incremental changes that happen when saving money becomes a mindset, a way of life. It's very difficult - and very uncomfortable - to shift too quickly from an average endebted, consumeristic lifestyle to severe pennypinching. In our lives the shift from spending to saving has been gradual and is ongoing.

For me there were certain big changes that happened early on, mostly the obvious ones: keeping and using a price comparison book, switching to CF light bulbs, hanging all my laundry up to dry, eating out less and less, learning to bake bread, selling off extra vehicles. But even as I enthusiastically set aside old habits and took up new ones, there were certain exemptions to my spending habits that I wasn't even willing to consider giving up. I think that's normal, and if you're new to frugality I think it's okay to devote your energies to learning new habits and skills for the time being. But when the new habits and skills have become routine, and the frugality bug has still got you bad, there comes a time when those exemptions start looking more and more profligate. Then it's time to reconsider them.

Confession time: I'm vain about my appearance in one particular way. I always wear foundation makeup when I'm out in public. I don't wear lipstick or eye makeup more than a few times per year, and most of the time I couldn't care less what clothes I'm wearing (so long as they're clean and warm enough). But for many long years I've spent good money on a cosmetics counter brand of foundation. I go through about two and a half bottles per year. That probably adds up to about $100 per year.

This was something I just wasn't willing to consider cutting out of my budget for quite a while. It quietly held non-negotiable status, and was paid for out of my mad money budget. Now you may argue that $100 per year isn't very much money, and that's the exact argument I made to myself. But $100 is $100, and there are lots of efforts I make to save us even smaller amounts per year. Why turn around and blow that much on a non-necessity? So recently I decided that I needed to at least consider some alternatives. If I couldn't simply give it up and let the world see my splotchy skin and the occasional zit, then I would at least try a cheaper brand. Off I went to visit the drugstore cosmetics aisle, a trip I hadn't made since high school.

You know what? On my very first try I found a product that matches my skin tone, has a good SPF rating, and works just about as well as the high end stuff I've been buying for years. It's a little bit thinner than my usual brand, so I may use a little more each day. But it costs less than a third as much for the same size bottle of the expensive stuff I've used for so long. I feel pretty foolish for having let a mental prejudice get in the way of saving money for all these years. And I feel silly for still refusing to be seen without foundation. But I do feel good about finding a cheaper alternative that works. Now I have no reason to go to the mall, ever.

We still have some non-negotiables in our budget. I'm not thrilled about these, but unless and until the feces really hits the rotating oscillator, my husband isn't giving up his beer, and my dirty little canned soda habit will continue.

What are your non-negotiables? Have you managed to overcome any? Please share in the comments!

Harvest Meal: Egg & Chard Curry

I'd been ignoring the gorgeous rainbow chard out in the garden for quite a while. During the summer, I diligently processed large batches of it and stored them away in the freezer. But I quickly tired of this because the cleaning process for chard was so very labor intensive. The undersides of the leaves can get very dirty during a heavy rain. The dirt splatters up from the ground and then sticks to the crinkly undersides.

Fortunately, chard can handle being ignored so long as it gets enough water, and I think the benign neglect even helped the dirt problem. You see, as new leaves formed in the center of the plant, the older and larger leaves that hung around, unpicked, shielded the new inner leaves from that dirty splatter. Ignoring the chard worked in our favor after a while. So when it was time to harvest a big pile for a favorite curry, the cleaning was a little easier this time.


Egg & chard curry is one of my husband's favorite meals. I make absolutely no claims to authenticity with this dish; it's just something I came up with that we both really enjoy. It tastes even better to us when we use our own chard and garlic, plus eggs from our own hens. I'll describe how I make it.

Ingredient list - quantities (quite) flexible

Chard, several bunches worth
clarified butter (ghee) or clear cooking oil for sauteing
2 onions, medium diced
3" piece of ginger, peeled and grated or minced
2 large cloves of garlic, minced
Madras curry powder, medium hot, or your preferred curry powder
salt and pepper
tomato paste, about 3-4 tablespoons
14 oz. can coconut milk, unsweetened
water
juice of 2 lemons, about 4-6 tablespoons
4-6 eggs

optional garnish: chopped cilantro or finely sliced scallion greens

Method

You will need a surprisingly large pile of chard. It cooks down very significantly, so you'll want a lot to start with. If you're buying it in the store, you'll need at least three bunches, and four or five is better. Wash the chard, separate the leafy parts from the stalk and rib, and chop the stalk/rib portions into 1/2" pieces. Cut the leafy parts into a 1" dice. Set these aside in separate bowls.

Preheat a very large skillet over medium heat. When hot, cook the onions in a generous amount of clarified butter or cooking oil. Let the onions soften without browning, stirring occasionally for about 5 minutes. Add the ginger and garlic and continue cooking and stirring for two more minutes. Add a generous pinch of salt and 3 tablespoons of Madras curry powder, or to taste. Stir the ingredients around so that they are coated with the curry powder and all the curry powder is moistened by the oil. Cook for three minutes, stirring often, and reducing the heat if necessary to prevent burning the curry powder.

Stir in the chopped ribs and stalk of the chard, and increase the heat to medium high. Cook for several minutes, until the vegetables begin to soften and release some liquid. Add the chopped leafy parts and stir well. When all of the leafy chard has begun to wilt and release liquid, add the tomato paste and stir to incorporate it into the ingredients.

Shake the can of coconut milk, open it and add it to the skillet. Rinse the can with water to claim the last bit of coconut milk and add that to the skillet. There should be enough liquid in the pan to at least half way submerge all the solid ingredients. Add more water if necessary.

Add a little black pepper. Reduce the heat to medium and allow the chard to continue cooking in the added liquid for 3-5 minutes. Add the lemon juice and stir to incorporate. Taste the curry and adjust the salt and other spices to your personal preference. If you want to add more curry powder, simmer at least 3 additional minutes before proceeding.

Now take a metal spoon and scoop up some curry near, but not right up against, the edge of the pan. Set the filled spoon down on top of the curry without spilling it. There should be enough liquid in the pan so that it pools into the area where you just scooped out the solids. Crack an egg into that little hole, and place the chard you scooped out on top of the egg. Repeat this process around the edge of the pan, keeping each egg in its own hole, somewhat separated by the rest of the ingredients. Don't worry if the whites run a bit. When the edge of the pan is full of eggs, add one more egg in the center.

Reduce the heat to the barest simmer for 8 minutes and let the eggs poach undisturbed. Gently peek under the chard and check the consistency of the eggs. If you want the yolks hard, continue cooking for another 5 minutes or so. If the consistency is good or nearly so, turn off the heat and let the curry rest for a few more minutes.

Serve over steamed basmati rice, or with Indian flat breads. Garnish with the cilantro or scallion greens if desired. Yum! Serves 4-6. Leftovers are good, but if you don't want to overcook the eggs, you may want to fish them out and gently heat them after the other ingredients are warmed through.

The Slacker Gardener's Coldframe

I'm late! I'm late! For a very important date! The late season planting date, that is.

Although I worked a larger garden this year than I ever had before, I still feel like a slacker. An extended growing season really isn't part of my garden repertoire so far, though the advantages are obvious to me. I have no greenhouse, no row covers, and I didn't manage to get a second crop of anything in for fall harvest, not even lettuce. And it's pretty late to do anything about it now, in November. But if I'm not the most diligent gardener, I am willing to gamble on long shots. But in this case, I'm hedging my bets.

I've come up with a crude coldframe idea, and I'm going to run a little experiment. What I'm trying to grow is arugula sylvetta, (also known as rocket) a very hardy and very tasty salad green. It's tough enough to germinate at temperatures as low as 40F (4.5C)! And it may be my favorite salad green of all time. We especially love it tossed on thin crust pizza just as it's pulled from the oven. I'm going to see if it can be coaxed into producing a winter crop for us when planted this late in the season. Here's the set up for my experiment.


We picked up some older bales of hay from the farmer who leases and farms our farmland. He declined to charge us anything for them. (He'll be getting a few loaves of my homemade bread next time we're up there.) If he'd had any, we would have taken bales of straw, to avoid bringing seeds into the garden. I arranged four of the bales to form the sides of a small impromptu coldframe, which I'll use only over this winter. I call it the hayframe. In spring, the hay will be turned into garden mulch. Hay is a good insulator that breathes well, and it's biodegradable. Best of all, constructing the walls of my coldframe took less than five minutes and cost me nothing. If you had to pay for four bales of hay, it would almost certainly cost no more than $20, and less if you live outside of a city. Straw bales may be even cheaper.


The top of my hayframe is a weather beaten window I picked up from a typically frugal old time Pennsylvania Dutch man. Throw it away? No, ma'am. He set it out in the yard with a for sale sign. I got it for $2. I pinwheeled the bales of hay to create an opening just slightly smaller than the outer dimensions of the window. The slight overlap of the bales at each corner provides extra insulation, at least in theory. In reality, hay bales aren't as uniform or as solid as bricks, so there are gaps and irregularities. The window simply lays on top of the bales, so the seal isn't great to say the least. But I guess I've got what I paid for. I did stack the hay bales so that their shortest sides are the vertical rise of the coldframe. That means that whatever warmth is collected inside the hayframe will stay as close to the ground, and the plants, as possible. I'm counting on the cold tolerant arugula to make this setup work for it.

In hardiness zone 6, I know I'm asking a lot from these seeds, planting them in early November, though we are having unusually warm weather this week, which may make all the difference. To give the plants a little more advantage in this marginal environment, I pulled a few tricks out of my bag. First, I aligned the coldframe to face south, so that it ekes out as much solar exposure as possible. I also cut pieces of cardboard to fit each hay "wall" of the hayframe, and I covered these with aluminum foil, shiny side showing. This will bounce whatever sunlight comes into the coldframe around very well, so that the growing plants get as much sunlight as possible.

I haven't done this yet because it has been fairly warm, but I may also put two bricks in the cold frame, one at either northern corner. These bricks will soak up the solar energy each day and get somewhat warm. During the night, they'll slowly release that warmth, giving the plants a small temperature advantage. Placing them in the corners will assure that they won't block too much of the sunlight reflected from the aluminum foil, and they won't shade the plants directly either. I'm going to wait to see what the daytime temperatures are like in the hayframe on a cold sunny day, the next time we have one, which may take another month.

I'm pleased with this little project because it puts stuff we've got lying around or very cheaply available to us to good use, at least potentially. I'll be even better pleased if it works. Plenty of things may go wrong with this experiment. Field mice could invade the hay bales. They might enjoy arugula. The window frame is also going to collect precipitation, leading to rapid deterioration of the wood. But that's just something I'll have to live with. Or, I may just have left the sowing too late. So, we'll see how the arugula seeds fare. I'll let you know how it goes.

Note: Preliminary results of the hayframe experiment are now posted.

Poultry Reprieve

So I'm in a quandary this week about my four laying hens. Since early summer I've been mentally preparing myself for their slaughter. I've never slaughtered an animal before, though I have done some butchering. There are lots of reasons I'd made the decision not to keep them through the winter, none of which would have made sense had I put the decision to the hens.

These girls are more than two and a half years old; well past "retirement age" for the average layer. That means they produce fewer eggs and will only grow less productive as time goes on. I don't have a way of keeping the hens warm through the winter. The shorter hours of daylight over the winter will also mean less and less productivity from the hens. These animals are not pets, though I consider their care and well being a solemn duty.

But the most important reasons I have for making the decision to slaughter these hens will sound nonsensical to some people. I planned to slaughter them because it's a sort of moral reckoning for me, a life-long meat eater. As Michael Pollan pointed out in his excellent Omnivore's Dilemma, too many meat eaters "look away" from the realities behind the meat they consume. While I'm aware of many of the issues and I now source my meat locally from sustainable and humane farms, there is still a difference between slaughtering the animal myself and purchasing a dressed and packaged piece of meat. I won't say that I was eager to kill the girls, but I was, in a way, looking forward to taking that final piece of responsibility for what I eat and how I live. I expected to feel a sense of honesty and respect towards the hens, even as I was killing and eating them. It was to be a way of facing the relationship I have with animals directly, instead of turning away.

And then there's the whole competence issue which Sharon discussed yesterday. I feel very strongly that I don't want to be a helpless dependent of my food system - local, and sustainable, and humane as it may be. I want to have the knowledge and the skill it takes to slaughter a chicken and put it on the table. I want to know, intimately and directly, that the animals I eat had good lives and humane deaths.

So, to my quandary. A real farmer friend of mine asked how my hens were doing. When I told her that they were still laying pretty well, but that I planned to slaughter them before Thanksgiving, she asked the obvious question: Why are you slaughtering them if they're still laying well? I then explained their ages and that I had no winter setup for them. Her reply was "I'll keep them for you over the winter. You can have them back in the spring if you want them."

This produced a cascade of thoughts and feelings that really surprised me. I wasn't initially at all pleased by this un-looked-for offer. I've been preparing myself for the slaughter for so long, that I felt disappointment about not getting to do it. I've been looking forward to seeing whether a three-year-old hen can be turned into a decent coq au vin. I've been looking forward to developing those new skills, and to being able to say, "yes, I did it; I can do it." The strength of my own reactions surprised me. And then there followed the more rational side that talked me down from my emotional response: they can have a few more months of a good life. I can still slaughter them in the spring. Not having to slaughter them now frees up the better part of a day later in this busy month.

Still, I wonder about my initial reaction, which was a strong disappointment. I haven't yet given her an answer, but I guess I'm going to agree to it. I'm glad that the girls will live a little longer, and that their continued potential as egg producers will not be wasted. I just wish that there were a way to have my hens, and my moral reckoning too.

Update: The girls were finally dispatched in late July, 2009.

Kill the Catalogs

Today's frugal tip is a simple one: get yourself off those catalog mailing lists! Do it for any or all of these reasons:

• You don't need anything they're selling. Really.
• Reduce your garbage bill/need to recycle/landfill contributions
• Lower your level of covetousness
• Prevent impulse spending
• Conserve natural resources
  

Frugality is easier when there are fewer temptations. And guess what? If you never see the stuff in those catalogs, you'll never talk yourself into buying any of it. And you won't miss any of it either. What the eye doesn't see, the heart never mourns.

Did you know that 60 million trees are cut down annually in the US just to create the junk mail catalogs that inundate our mailboxes? Scandalous! And that says nothing about the oil that is wasted moving that timber, that paper, and the finished catalogs around until they wind up in said landfill.

So tackle that pile of unwanted and wasteful catalogs a little bit at a time. Call a few each evening for a week. And here's a few tips. Once you get a representative on the line, be sure to ask if they maintain the mailing list for any other catalogs, other than the one you're calling about. If so, ask them to remove you from all the distribution lists they service. You'll save a call. And speaking of saving calls, don't keep calling back if you get the same catalogs two weeks after your initial call. Give it three months between fits of anti-marketing opt-out calling. It takes a while for you to be dropped from some mailing lists. So don't duplicate your efforts unless it's really necessary.

Days of Yard Work

We had that ornamental black cherry tree and the sickly mulberry felled about a week ago. Some of you remarked that the total bill of $400 seemed low. That might have been because we didn't ask them to remove any of the wood or even chip it for us. We've been dealing with the scrub ever since. For the record, it takes an awful long time to trim a 40'+ black cherry tree into pieces small enough to dump somewhere in a small enough pile that it will compost, eventually.

We found out that the cherry wood is somewhat valuable for furniture or cabinet making. I have no idea how many board feet we've got, but it would certainly be enough to at least make facing for some kitchen cabinets. Or some furniture. So we're going to hold on to it for now. We figure if we put it somewhere where it will dry down nicely, it'll simply be more valuable in a year or two. Maybe we'll sell it then, or maybe we'll have furniture made for ourselves. In any case, we just need to think about where to stash it for a while.

In other yard news, I finally started ripping out the 23 tomato plants I insanely put in this spring. (Next year, no more than 12!) I've long since stopped eating them myself. But the hens still enjoy the cherry tomatoes especially. I expect hundreds of volunteer tomato plants from the seeds they've pooped out. I gave them so many yesterday that they were getting a little blase about them. They're novelty junkies, those girls. With winter coming, it's been hard lately, finding dandelions or other weeds for them that they especially love. Foraging for their food makes me more aware of the change of seasons. I've been giving them some damaged chard still going strong in the garden. I'll miss the girls, and especially their eggs, after we slaughter them in a few more weeks' time.

Our apples look beautiful. But the tree doesn't want to let them go yet. We've harvested only about two bushels and change so far. I've been eating some of them with my morning oatmeal and with crepes or blini. We get the ladder out every few days and have another go at harvesting them. I had thought that we would be pressing this week. It must be a very late season apple. We had a much warmer October last year, so maybe that hurried them along somewhat. I'm hopeful that with the black cherry tree no longer shading the apple, we'll see more apples, less sooty mold, and maybe even an earlier harvest next year.

Oh, yes. And then there's leaf raking. Plenty of that already, and most of the leaves still on the trees. I remember that last year, when we hosted Thanksgiving, a few family members helped me rake on Wednesday. When everyone showed up on Turkey Day, it was impossible to tell that any raking had been done at all. The lawn was covered in leaves. Glad I'm not hosting this year.

Indoors, I've been removing our homegrown popcorn from the cobs. More on that soon.