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My Profile
She blinded him with whiteness - 2008-07-25
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4:18 p.m. - 2008-04-05
I got a decent sized annuity check in the mail yesterday. Not huge like lotto winnings or anything, it's still enough to get us all caught up. And believe you me, this is a very good thing. Since the dough is mine Mick the grasshopper and LA the ant didn't have much of a go 'round about how to use the money best, unlike when Mick got his tax refund. That money was technically 'his' and therefore I had a difficult time putting my little ant foot down when Mr Grasshopper wanted to splurge, especially because the thing that brought him the most joy was indulging me. "Here, my darling, are some wonderful Russian nesting dolls. I know you've been wanting these for at least 35 years. That is a very long time for a girl to be left waiting for a doll. And then I'm taking you to lunch because you deserve to be served for a change. After lunch we're going to the antique store and I want you to get something pretty." Right. You tell me how I was supposed to say, "That's sweet, Hon, but it's better to get that stuff that helps the septic tank. And oh, I want to throw a wad at the utility company, they've been getting a bit snitty lately." Before he met me and learned the art of living cheap Mick associated being broke with grim slogging and a constant feeling of being deprived. 'Things' and 'stuff' make Mick happy. He's not a total consumerist pig, nor is he a status whore, but the man does like his goodies. To Mick living well is the freedom to eat out, go places and buy stuff for his collections. Whereas I like it when I can make life a joyful thing without spending any money. Or at least very little. Mick kindly describes me as 'frugal', I'm honest enough to say that I'm tighter than Aunt Tilly's twat. I get far less satisfaction from a pricey restaurant meal than I do from being able to whip up a feast myself for what amounts to chump change. It's the challenge of it, I think. Anybody can buy a 12 course meal at Chez Snobbo, but it takes talent, creativity and smart shopping to produce a food-gasmic meal on a $7.90 budget. More pennies from Heaven. Mick's elderly Ranger pick-up's undercarriage finally gave it up and the suspension broke loose from the axle. There was nothing to do but junk the truck, all the underneath parts were rusty lace with a wee dim memory of metal. That truck was toast. At first Mick was wanting to sell it with an ad in the paper, then he dithered around with various other disposal methods when I made it clear no good could come from luring people over here trying to unload that rust pile disguised as a pick-up on them. No matter how strident the ad was about the truck's condition potential buyers would bitch and moan when they saw it and others would drive us berserk with pointless phone calls and drive-bys. To the scrap-yard was the only solution. Mick relented yesterday and off we went this morning. The place was hopping, but eventually Mick got it on the scale and the deal was struck. My guy was seriously wowed by netting $300, especially because the whole thing was so easy. Weigh in, remove plates, sign over title, get cash. Done. Of course he gave me all the credit too. "Baby, you're a genius! The scrap-yard was a fantastic idea! When I think about all the used-up cars I've hassled with trying to sell them and whatever…ugh. No way would we have gotten even half of this money selling it ourselves." I nodded, "Reasonably green too. They recycle everything there. A win-win-win, I'd say." Everything worked out fine. I'll be happy to have all the bills paid up and the pantry shelves restocked with necessities and Mick can go to the sci-fi/comic expo tomorrow with some folding green and my blessing to buy whatever crap and taradiddle floats his boat.
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