Confessions of a Coffee Addict

Have you ever engaged in some behavior that flies in the face of everything you believe? Well, today, I’d like to point out one of my very bad habits and its result.  I’m rather embarrassed to admit that I’m officially addicted to coffee–again!    I’m not saying that people who enjoy one cup of coffee a day–or possibly two–are doing something wrong.  With moderation, I’m sure coffee consumption is a perfectly healthy, normal pleasure.  And we all need our little luxuries, right?

Look at this cup of espresso in our local café in France--seems innocent, right?

The problem is that I don’t tend to be very moderate about coffee. I recently noticed, for example, that I’ve begun to drink one pot of coffee in the morning (from the French press so the caffeine has plenty of time to infuse its way into the water!).  Then I drink a little more coffee mid-morning. . .and sometimes another cup in the afternoon.  I’m pretty sure I’m back up to about six cups a day–at least.

I’m a little mad at myself because this is probably about the fourth time I’ve worked up to such high levels of coffee consumption, and I know better. While no one seems to be able to agree on whether or not a cup of coffee a day is good or bad for your health, I doubt anyone would argue that six or more cups a day is a good idea.  Plus, I tend to get a little . . .hyperactive once I get up past four cups a day.

Some additional reasons coffee makes no sense for me:

• It’s not a local food.
• Since I only buy organic and fair trade, (and since I consume quite a bit of it) it’s not frugal either.
• Since I’m a bit of a coffee snob, coffee is definitely not frugal.
• Really coffee has no nutritional value whatsoever, not even calories, so I’m consuming it for no logical reason.

Some of the illogical reasons I drink coffee:

• I have lots of fond memories of family gatherings with the smell of constantly percolating coffee.
• I equate coffee-drinking with a ‘rest’ or a ‘break.’
• I like the taste–wait, maybe that’s a logical reason for drinking coffee
• I enjoy the pause café and café culture here in France.

So what to do? I could just quit altogether, but I’d feel like I was leaving some significant part of my life behind.  Should I accept this one little affront to my health, this one little un-frugal and unsustainable habit for now? Or is my ‘attachment’ to coffee just some unhealthy thing I need to cut out entirely?  If I think too hard on this, I may slip into full existential crisis

For now, I don’t really have a choice; I’m going to cut back to a cup a day. Ok, I could stop drinking coffee altogether, but that would give me a headache and make me all grouchy and spacey.  Or I could keep consuming at my current levels and eventually lose the ability to sit still–perhaps another sign that coffee is not such a great influence on my life.

Some things I’m going to do to ‘cope.’

• Switch to a spicy herbal tea during social occasions at home when others are drinking coffee.
• Drinking something besides coffee if I go to a café with someone, and I’ve already had my one cup for the day (this one will be hard).
• Consider drinking coffee only at cafés, special occasions etc.   If I have to pay more each time I drink it, I might drink less. . .
• Be more ‘mindful’ about how much coffee I drink each day–I’m not sure how I got up to six cups a day, but I bet it’s not exactly rocket science.

Any other thoughts or ideas?  Do you have any bad habits that you allow yourself or that you’re trying to cut back on?  Do you drink coffee not at all, in moderation, or to some other ungodly degree.

Our most uncomfortable living arangments–ever.

How I learned an important lesson about where to live–the hard way.

Given my cheapskate nature in some areas, you may not be entirely surprised to learn that I’ve had some interesting living arrangements. The worst ever? Marseilles, 2003. We were intent upon finding a place to rent within a certain budget.  Better safe than sorry, we thought. Our plan was to live on the cheap as we settled in, because international moves are hard enough–without money troubles.

Marseilles: not such a bad place to live--with the right accommodations.

When we found a small, clean studio near the beach in the budget we’d decided on, we were thrilled–in spite of the fact that the view from our window was a seven story building complete with odd neighbors staring at us while they stepped out for a cigarette.  We were prepared to make a few concessions in return for such a reasonable rent.

The first night in our new ‘home’ we realized that we were going to have a very intimate relationship with our neighbors: all seven floors of them, in both buildings. At dinner time, I kind of enjoyed the experience of hearing all the families sit down to eat, their spoons clinking on their plates, quiet conversations floating through our open windows on the sea breeze– or down the rusty old pipes.

After the evening meal, our neighbors would head to the balconies that overlooked our inner ‘courtyard’ (an auto shop in fact).  The acoustics were so excellent that neighbors from one building could converse with their friends in the other building from the comfort of their own balconies.   All of this struck me as rather folkloric at first.  It was something like living in a vertical village stretched over seven stories in two buildings.

Things didn’t really start to fall apart until our next door neighbor came home from vacation.

We hadn’t met her the first few weeks we’d stayed in our apartment because she was staying with family.  When we first spotted her exiting her apartment sporting silver hair and a smart skirt and towing a tiny suitcase and equally tiny poodle, we were charmed.  When we exchanged ‘hellos,’ she gave us us a glowing smile and closed the door to her apartment behind her.  That afternoon, we noticed that she must be slightly deaf, the old dear, which would explain why she kept her radio nostalgie turned up so high.  No doubt.

Night came, incidentally, the night before my husband’s first day of work.  We awoke to a strange yelling and ranting coming from next door.  It sounded like the tiny old woman and her dog had a visitor. . .a loud, slightly deranged and belligerent visitor. I envisioned a large, middle aged nephew.  Our other neighbors in both buildings were opening their windows and yelling for silence.  Yes, yelling for silence–in Marseilles this is rather common.

Ok, this isn't THE actualy building we lived in during 2003--the real one was much worse.

Fearful for our tiny, helpless neighbor and afraid to knock on the door due to the rather scary sounding visitor, we decided to phone the police. Later, when we told our story to friends who’d lived in the city for some time, our call to the police sent them rocking with laughter.

The police did in fact come (which apparently is rather amazing for Marseilles) only to discover that our neighbor had no visitor whatsoever. Kindly old woman by day, holy terror by night, she’d overdone the pastis a bit. Needless to say, she easily sent the young police officers back to where they came from.  (We heard the entire conversation of course, through or paper–thin walls.)

Eventually, she must have passed out and we were able to sleep for a few hours–until our early rising neighbors, still bitter from the night before left for work.  Each one rang her doorbell several times as from the landing outside our building, I assume out of vengeance for their lost sleep.  Our vertical village was, in fact, in the midst of a long and painful civil war.

Lessons learned:

After this rather unusual experience, we drew a few conclusions.

• Investigating the building you’re moving into is as important as investigating the part of town you’re moving into and checking out the apartment.  In the future, we’d take the time to get some word of mouth information about a building before we move in. Particularly given the relative ‘intimacy’ of living situations in France.
• Smaller is better–both in terms of buildings and cities.  And more importantly: DH and I are not city-folk . . . in France or the States.
• Sometimes paying 200 euros a month more in rent to avoid certain ‘discomforts’ is a really good deal.

Have you ever learned a similar lesson?

Am I the only one who has learned the value of a carefully-chosen home the hard way?  Or do some of the rest of you have similar experiences?   Has anyone else had the experience of living close to neighbors and having things go slightly awry?

This week’s Yakezi Carnival

I’d thought I’d give a little nudge to these two posts, that I really enjoyed from the Yakezi Carnival this week:

The Butterfly Effect, Bees and Money

Is Living on Minimum Wage Possible?

If you’re interested in frugal and personal finance topics, you’ll find this week’s Yakezi carnival in its entirety here.

Sustainable, recession-proof restaurants near you?

A family favorite: small, sustainable, local and recession proof?

Here in France, you never stop hearing about the impact of the recession (or crise économic ) on restaurants and cafés.  It makes sense.  A significant number of people work in the restaurant industry or own a café in France.  And I don’t know about any of you, but my restaurant consumption is down.  In fact, it was the first thing we struck from the budget when the recession pushed us to move back to France and live on one salary.  Have you cut back on eating out?  If you have, you’re in good company–at least on this side of the pond.

And yet, if you look around you here in France and probably in any local economy, you can still find a few restaurants that seem to make do even in these interesting economic times.   You may have noticed a few local culinary gems flourishing near you in spite of the economy. Have you also noticed what makes them so tenacious?

My local example: organic, homegrown food in the Alps.

My in-laws recently decided to hold a family celebration at this local treasure.  It’s the kind of place you have to call and reserve at least a couple of weeks in advance.  The two ladies that run the restaurant and the small farm it’s on have some of the most infectious laughter you can imagine.

A couple of things that set this place apart:

A view of the muddy garden grounds of the farm/restaurant in early spring.

• When you arrive, you wander through the gardens where much of the food served in the restaurant grows. And those chickens and geese walking around . . .you guessed it.  (Sorry vegetarians!).  In France, people like to know what they’re eating and where it came from.  They also like to know that they’re keeping the local economy strong.
• No menu. You can pick your desert from a number of daily options, but otherwise, you eat what they serve: usually home made walnut or peach wine followed by a garden-grown first course and then local meat and vegetables.  This cuts back on food waste and costs for the owners who can run the kitchen with just two people and never have to worry about not selling everything they prepare.
• Strong local and community ties. Because the overhead of the farm/restaurant is low, the two women who run the place don’t need to count on high numbers of visitors to survive.  Their customers are loyal locals who stop in at the restaurant several times a year. The owners know them personally and have built up a very solid reputation over time.

Part of me wants to argue that this restaurant continues to do well because it is sustainable–but maybe I’m simply guilty of seeing all things through that lense. If you’ve been reading this blog for any length of time, you’ll know that I have a bias for local, sustainable food and businesses.  So, I’m thrilled to see that the farm/restaurant thrive in our community.  We hardly ever eat out anymore, but when we do, I’m always happy to take my business to this kind of shop. I see it as a silver lining on a rather gray economy.

And what about restaurant culture in your neck of the woods? Do you still eat out?  What kind of local restaurants and businesses are hanging in the best?

I may be crazy to get so excited about seedlings. . .

But I have to announce that I am the proud grower of three little citrus sprouts!

If I could say that they were lemon, or clementine or orange I would, but the truth is, I don’t know!  How is this possible?   Basically, I’ve been sticking seeds from various citrus into a pot that was once inhabited by a poinsettia plant (RIP).  I must have poked seeds of various kinds in there every week, but nothing grew.

our new citrus seedlings in their indoor home.

When I brought my plants to my in-laws house in February, my MIL was kind enough to allow me to create a jungle under the stairs with all my houseplants. She even accommodated my ugly little pot of dirt in an old red saucepan.  When I told her I hoped to sprout citrus seedlings, she laughed–sort of the way you might laugh at a six year old for doing something odd. But she put the pot in a sunny (yet not so visible location).

Despite finding my ritual of poking seeds of tasty fruits into my little pot of dirt humorous, my MIL eventually adopted a similar ritual. Now neither of us knows what the heck we have growing here!  We suspect orange or clementine, but it’s too early to say.  I think the leaves are large and glassy enough for us to be reasonably sure that we have citrus though, and not some kind of soil/seed contamination.

As you probably know, citrus is not usually a local food in the Alps. As those of you who’ve been following this blog for a while probably know, I try very hard to stick to a local diet.  But I’m from Southern California, darn it.  I grew up in orange groves with orange blossoms and citrus all the time.  One of the biggest drawbacks to living in France?  The fact that citrus only grows in Menton–which is too far away to be considered in the 100-mile diet.  Argh!  Here I am, faced with the tragic choice between life in France and consuming citrus. . .unless I can grow my own indoors!

The citrus sprouts at home in the jungle under the stairs.

My plans for the seedlings:

Let them grow a little more, then separate them into their own pots.  In the meantime, I’ll have to make sure I learn more about the best kinds of soil for them.  This spring and summer, I’ll start moving them outside for plenty of daylight, but will move them back inside in the winter to protect them from frost.  In about three years, I’ll know if these little beauties will bear fruit. . .and if so, what kind.  Very, very exciting.

I first heard of this from Thomas over at the Growing Tradition who is working on his own indoor citrus plants. (Read his latest post on citrus indoors here.)  My sister-in-law has a lemon tree that she started this way as a child and still maintains here in France, so I know it’s doable.  It will take patience, of course, but I’m excited about this little step in the process.

Who’s affraid of a big, bad mortgage?

Ok, I admit it.  I am skittish as hell about the thought of taking out a mortgage.  I’ve been debt free for years now. . .and I like it that way.  Compared to my struggle with credit card debt and student loans, tangling with a mortgage sounds intimidating..  We’re probably talking 50-100,000 euros here!

But sometimes I wonder if my fear of debt is rational . . .and some people tell me it could even be holding me back.  Are there times when a mortgage is not such a bad thing?

A restored farm house in France near DH's home town.

When your mortgage is less than your rent:

I admit that hailing from California can make you rather likely to not consider buying an option. When DH and I were first married and living in the Silicon Valley, he didn’t want to buy because he feared a ‘correction’ in the real estate market would leave us stuck in an underwater home (how wise he was!).  I crunched the numbers, learned the interest alone on a mortgage would be more than our current rent, and concluded our savings were better invested elsewhere.

But now it looks like we could afford to buy for the same price that we’d pay for rent–in the 400-600 euro per month price range.  That’s interest AND principal. So suddenly buying, even with a mortgage, makes more sense.  This all sounds very logical. . .although a little anti-mortgage voice in my head is gearing up for a tantrum at the simple thought of going into debt again.

When you’re sure you can afford it:

Does this sound too obvious?  Well, based on what I’ve seen in the news and the behavior of many of my friends and acquaintances, I’d say people do not stop often enough to consider if they can afford their monthly mortgage payments (including taxes, insurance and repairs).

A garden in the Queyras region, one of our favorite summer hiking spots.

When the home you can afford is one you can live in long-term:

Here in France, notary fees and closing costs are around 10% of the value of the home.  Each time you buy and sell, you loose 10,000-20,000 euros–conservatively. And with the crazy housing market here and in the States, there’s no telling if the value of the home won’t drop after you buy it.  If you don’t want to be forced to sell at a loss, it’s better to plan on keeping the home for a longer period of time.

When it doesn’t leave you without an emergency fund:

I like my emergency fund.  It makes me feel . . .secure.  Some may argue that putting that money down on a home would then reduce the mortgage on which I probably will pay more interest than my emergency fund can make in savings.  But in my humble opinion, the emergency fund can save you a lot of money in the long term–you don’t have to borrow at the last minute if you need to make repairs to you home, purchase a new car or hop on a plane for an emergency visit to family oversees–a real possibility for us!

To those wiser than I am–Is there such a thing as being too cautious?

Since DH and I are finally ready to settle down and are in a situation where we meet all the above conditions, you’d think I’d feel less nervous about borrowing money to buy a home.  Logically, it seems like the thing to do, but I can’t help but feel nervous.  Getting into debt (again) is not something I take lightly.

I’d be interested to hear your remarks on this.  I know that people who comment here have a wide range of comfort levels and perspectives on debt and home ownership.  What do you think?

Personal Update: Are we finally going to settle down!?!

I’ve tried to wait to write this until I feel a bit more calm. . .and am not hyperventilating with joy.  Hopefully, I manage to pull off some semblance of coherence here!

My husband just got a long-awaited job transfer. (This could only happen in France by the way: a job transfer going through while you’re hospitalized or in rehab.)  DH has dreamed of moving closer to ‘home’ someday since before we ever met and started rambling around the world together.  And living in France makes no sense to me if we don’t live near DH’s family and his homeland.

A picture we took last year on a trip to the region we're moving to. I can't wait for the lavender in the summer.

In our relationship, one of us is always going to be the ‘foreigner.’ DH wore that hat for six years and decided he didn’t like it so much.  I personally find it kind of fun, but I think one of us should be at home.  (Although some couples thrive on traveling and living forever abroad, I don’t think it’s for us).

We were both happy to return to France last July, of course, because we were moving that much closer to where we wanted to be, yet we had this sense of not being quite ‘there.’ And as much as we’ve been wanting to settle down, we knew we had to wait a little longer.

Have you ever had that feeling of living in your own country and not quite being at home? I felt that way when I lived in the Silicon Valley: alienated in my home state.  No offense if you live there and love it, but it’s not my turf.  For DH, it was the same story when we lived in Marseilles–he just didn’t feel settled, even thought it was only two hours from where he was born and raised.

So we found ourselves so close, but so unable to stop and stay in one place. We’ve traveled and moved a lot.  We’ve had plenty of excitement.   We’re ready to try something different here.  I was especially reminded of this as I read and commented on a post at ERE, The Danger of Outgrowing your Lifestyle.  In fact, it felt as if we’d outgrown constant motion some time ago . . .we were just still rolling out of inertia!

I don’t know if I can express to anyone else how happy I am that we’ll be moving to department 04: les Alpes de Haute Provence. If you feel like it, you can see the department on the map of France–it’s the one labeled 04 in the South East corner right near Italy.  It’s fairly rural, and is full of hills and mountains to hike, and small roads to bike.  If there’s one thing we’ve learned in the last few years, it’s that neither of us are ‘city folk.’  In addition, the housing prices are a bit lower than some other regions in France, so we just may be able to buy a place of our own. . .(with a garden!  ok, that’s my plan anyway).

It’ll be a few months before we move to our new home, but it’s sure to be the start of a whole new adventure. Thanks for reading along while I indulge a little in my own excitement.  After all we’ve been through this year, it’s great to remember that sometimes there are happy surprises too.

Fighting clutter: can it be painless?

Recently, we discussed some great reasons not to de-clutter.  Indeed, paring down possessions isn’t for everyone, and some of us can wisely stay put on the Clutter Continuum. These folks have found happiness without changing–how efficient is that?  Some of us, however,  may still want to clear out a bit more clutter, but worry that the costs of doing so may be too high, the effort too great.

Which brings us to this week’s question on clutter:  How can you make a little more space for yourself without paying the price?

The costs of de-cluttering that SIF readers (you) pointed out last week:

1. You’re willing to fight the clutter . . . but not your partner, who may be a packrat! (Pickler)
2. You may need that stuff later, and your future income may not allow you to replace it. (Barb)
3. It’s a beautiful day out or you’re relaxing after work and you don’t want to spend your free time that way. (Funny about Money)
4. Clutter serves as a financial tool or anchor, preventing you from buying more stuff or moving into a huge and costly home. (Funny about Money)
5. The items invading your space are related to your interests, hobbies or professions (AMD)
6. You may enjoy being able to see the projects you’re working on (2 Cents)

Pretty sound and serious reasons, if you ask me. I’d hesitate to take on clutter too if I thought that it would damage my relationship with my husband, leave me ‘wanting’ later or prevent me from working on my projects in peace.   I don’t want to give up my happiness to de-clutter.  But I wonder . . .

Could you remove some of the clutter without it ‘costing’ you?

Can you think of any ways to keep the costs of de-cluttering down?  Here’s an example off the top of my head: My husband and I have very different degrees of tolerance for clutter.  But I’m the kind of person that likes to have it both ways: great relationship with my husband and a house I can walk through, chairs I can sit on etc. I know, I know, sounds revolutionary!

In the case of my husband, I suppose I could have made us both miserable by picking fights with him or getting grouchy about stuff laying around. Have you ever seen that before?  One partner who keeps on nagging and another who keeps on doing the exact same thing, out of resistance?  Yipes–shoot me now!

But what if I (nicely) let my husband know that, yes, it stresses me out when I come home and every chair has a shirt or pair of pants draped over it . . .but then I also take note of the places DH typically tends to put his stuff, empty his pockets, stack the receipts and just put ‘containers’ there to catch his things.  I might say, “Ah, I see you like to empty your pockets each day when you get home. Here is a nifty box where you can keep your loose change, receipts . . .and all those marbles you confiscate from your students. . .” Now we’re all happy–except DH’s students–he still has their marbles.

Really, you could have an entire post on just the topic of getting a spouse to go along with you on the clutter battle . . . but my point here is that you may not have to choose between space to breathe in your home and a good relationship, just like you may not have to choose between having a place to keep your projects ‘out’ and having a comfortable space in which to relax when you aren’t working.

Can you think of any ways to keep the costs of de-cluttering down?

Maybe you’ve had success on this in your own life or perhaps you’ve just had a brainstorm about a way you can avoid some of the potential costs of de-cluttering.   Feel free to address the ‘problems’ above or even come up with your own. Remember, happy and unstressed by clutter is what we’re going for here.  Not miserable in a bare room with no friends and a pissed off partner.

Building blog communities the Yakezi way

I tend to poke around personal finance blogs for the following reasons:

1. I’m interested in frugal living and tend to blog about it . . . um a lot.
2. I need to learn some new tricks about investing!  If I don’t get my act together, some day, you’ll probably catch me hiding my savings in little glass jars buried all over my back yard. . .or investing in a herd of cattle.

In my personal finance readings, I stumbled upon the Yakezi Challenge--in which a group of bloggers is working together to build community and help each other out in the hopes of increasing the rankings of the whole group.

I’m sure everyone can relate to working communities or writing communities where competition seemed to be much more the norm than cooperation. As a brand new blogger, I’ve literally found myself surrounded by other bloggers willing to make suggestions, help me out with anything from links, to technical advice or just a friendly word.  How many places have you worked or played where you can boast the same thing?

I’m highly impressed with the Yakezi challenge, not so much by its end (increased ranking) but by its means of getting there (increased cooperation). For me, the means is quite possibly an end in itself.

For those of you working on blogs that don’t deal with frugal or personal finance topics, can you imagine a similar style of cooperation between blogs on say sustainable living or simple living?  I definitely think this idea has its place in the general blogosphere.

I’m happy to be a part of the Yakezi Challenge. And while I’m still uncertain of what exactly having a higher Alexa ranking means for my blog, I can say that using the Alexa toolbar to watch the way people visit the blog and particularly seeing that people are sticking around longer, has been a fun experience that’s kept me more aware of my readers.  If you’re running your own blog, you might enjoy cruising the web with the toolbar installed.  (I’ve been using it for about a month now, so far, so good!)

A thanks to Sam at the Financial Samurai for organizing this. And to all the other bloggers out there (in the Yakezi challenge or not) who have helped me on my way.   I’m looking forward to carrying on the tradition.

Are you afraid of carnies? Carnival of Money Stories is up!

Alright, you are all going to think I’m a blog carnival addict. . . and perhaps it’s true.   But can I just say, that the story I submitted to the Carnival of Money Stories was a lot of fun to write!  It’s always nice to see the writing you worked hard on get a little further out there. . . and  there were some other very interesting looking stories in that carnival that I intend to check out.  Here are a few of the titles you’ll see there:

My Inner Imelda Marcos

Would You Walk Away from Your Home?

A Financial Lesson from Starcraft

A Thrifty Momma Comes Clean

Enjoy!