Where would you pinch pennies if you had to?

What if your income suddenly shrank a few sizes? Do you have any clearly identified luxuries that would be first on your list of items to go?  Or would you have to scour an already streamlined budget to get by?

I’ve been asking myself these questions lately as the French media and the French population mull over various ways the government could control its debt. In recent light of the Greek crisis, responsible solutions promoted usually involve cutting spending (raising costs to average people) or raising taxes income and sales tax. . . or both.  Of course, there will be squabbling about where to make cuts and plenty of political battles, yet one thing seems certain: here in France, spending power looks like its going to go down–again.

I’m curious to know if the mood in the States is the same–if people are resigned to pinching pennies to help pay down the government debt. I follow US news, but I haven’t noticed the same ruminations about a coming “tightening of the belts.”  Perhaps Stateside, people are holding out hope that a nice upshift in the economy will shrink the government debt.  Or perhaps its the knowledge that the dollar is easier to deflate if needed than the Euro.

What can you live without?

While a cost of living increase or a decrease in income are never a welcome prospect, I’m optimistic about my abilities to keep living a happy life. After all, most of us in the blogosphere have a higher standard of living than many, many people around the world.  And we also have a higher standard of living than people of most other time periods as well.  It’s always hard to take a pay cut, or to stop indulging in certain habitual luxuries . . . at first.  But I’ve seen numerous examples of people living quite happily on far less than we spend each month.

My strategy for pinching pennies if needed:

Although I don’t know exactly when/if cuts to our income could be coming, I have already started to look over our situation to figure out the possibilities.  Here are my steps:

1. Take a look over our monthly expense spreadsheets and see if I can spot any ‘leaks’ in the budget.
2. In our case, I’d say our grocery bill is a little high–ahem 300-400 euros for two per month.  We’re lucky actually to have such an easy area to streamline.   We could probably save 75 euros a month easily here.
   
3. I’ve also got to admit that I’d be targeting our ‘fun’ category. Likely spots for cutting would be my pottery classes (sniff!) as well as a little pinching in the area of wine tasting. . .um, yes, that’s part of our budget actually.  Here, we could save about 50 euros a month without causing ourselves too much pain.
   
4. If I wanted to be even bolder, I could make plans to lower our rent.  We splurged on a very nice apartment last year in a rather pricey location, but we certainly have the option of taking a lower-rent place–without getting ourselves into trouble as we did in Marseilles!  We’d probably stand to save at least 100 euros a month by accepting a slightly smaller place.
   
5. Cutting commute distances is another way we could potentially save, assuming my husband doesn’t mind teaching in the same town he lives in–he sometimes gets picky about this.  I can’t completely blame him Still, living closer to DH’s work would cut our living expenses by close to 50 euros a month.
   

Well, that’s 275 euros a month.  Considering our living expenses are currently at about 2000 a month, that’s a little over 10% of our budget.  If you have a bigger budget, you might be thinking that 275 euros is just a drop in the bucket–to which I’d argue that you might have an even easier time pinching pennies.  If you’re used to living on 4-10,000 a month, you most likely have even more leeway than we do.

So how would you pinch your pennies?

Maybe you have no need to tweak your budget at all. . . or maybe you’re considering changing jobs and taking a lower income or even facing a layoff. Regardless of the situation, I’m curious to know how you’d go about losing the ‘fat’ in your budget if you found you needed to.  Where could you cut painlessly? Where would cuts take a little more creativity?

Your Favorite DIY’s–frugal? entertaining? both?

Do it yourself and simple/frugal go hand in hand.

I’ve found that every 10 hours I cut off my work week has changed my outlook on time and money

Sourdough starter

drastically. When I worked 70 hours a week, I would not have even contemplated making homemade bread, designing my own makeshift closet, making a thermal cooker or learning to do pottery, for example.  I counted my minutes out like a miser counts his pennies.  No way was I going to spend my precious time watching yeast do its thing!  And if I could spend $20 to buy back a few hours of my time from chores, cooking, financial planning or working–the money would fly. Likewise, reducing the time spent working freed up time to do money-saving activities. . .

The simple act of cutting back to 50-60 hours a week felt like some kind of revolution for me. Suddenly, I had the patience to call and argue about a mistake on a bill, or plant potted herbs and lettuce on my balcony.  Some of these activities, I even found I enjoyed–once spending the time no longer meant sacrificing my sleep or my health.

DIY–saving money while having fun.

My recent foray into unemployment has lead me to contemplate DIY projects in an entirely different manner.  I find that I do things myself for a variety of reasons:

• To save money (baking bread and most cooking fall under this category for me)
  

  Homemade bread--a favorite DIY.

• Higher quality (any food item, home grown vegetables and fruits and potentially homemade clothing)
• Entertainment, a sense of mastery and fun! (pottery-making, for example)
• Satisfaction–that I don’t have to rely on a specific manufacturer, grocery store etc for what I want or need: (shampoo alternatives, homemade deodorant and my makeshift closet fall under this category)

DIY and ‘What do you do all day?’

People have the most amusing ideas about being bored without their jobs and paid entertainment. I’ve been unemployed for coming up on a year (not on purpose, but hey!).  I’ve never been bored mainly because given a little spare time to work with my mind rattles off all kinds of oddball ideas. . .what if I could make my own soap?  What if I built an insulating window-covering?  What if I grew my own sourdough starter? Some save more money than others, but the creating and learning process certainly keeps me entertained.

in progress--tomato seedlings

What are your favorite DIY activities and why?

I certainly don’t think that money is the only purpose for engaging in a DIY project.  I’m curious to know what your favorite DIY projects/activities are.  Do you chose activities for enjoyment or because they save money?  Is there a new DIY activity that you’re particularly proud of or one that you hope to take on sometime soon?

Looking back and ahead in 2010

Tables set out for the New Year.

Every year on December 31st I take a moment to look back over the year and reflect.  I don’t necessarily like the idea of making resolutions, but I do like to think of the “New Year” as a time to start over and a time to think about whether the daily practice of my life reflects my ideals and my goals.  I usually ask myself a few questions.   This year, I had some snippets of time to think things over between the hospital and my wanderings in Aix-en-Provence.  DH’s hospital is conveniently close to cheerful pedestrian zone.   What is it about wandering around rainy cobbled streets when someone is playing a waltz on the accordion that makes you feel like everything is new and perfect?  Anyway, here are they questions I asked myself this year. . . and a few answers.

Flowers for sale in one of the squares in Aix on New Year's Eve.

Did I grow in some way? This year, I believe I’ve done well in this respect.  I managed to unlearn some of my worst workaholic tendencies.  I also got a look at what really matters in life and have had a chance to whittle things down until I’m left with not much more than the essential.  Our little end of year crisis left a great big exclamation mark on that process, in fact.

Did I learn anything new? I learned at least a little about writing a blog and pottery.  I also learned that when faced with really serious challenges that I’ll be ok–this is a serious revelation to me as I’ve never considered myself to be particularly strong or good in high stress situations.  I suppose I’ve also learned that it’s no use thinking you can’t handle something until you actually try.

Did I take time to enjoy this year–or did I let it slip by between ‘errands.’ I spent 2009 wisely, I think.  Having spent other years unwisely, I know the difference.

Do I have any regrets? This is one of the best years I’ve spent. I wish that I’d found a way to simplify things sooner.  I feel like I spent 2002-2008 in a blur of unecessary stress.  That’s a shame, especially since I realize now that I didn’t have to live like that.

Are there any apologies I need to make? Actually, for what it’s worth, this year I did my apologizing as I went!  Open mouth, insert foot . . .apologize immediately.  That’s how it went.  I can still be a little feisty, but an getting faster in the apology department.  Is that progress?

Holidays in the hospital

What can I do to make next year a little better? I’m going to remember not to worry about all the extra stuff that doesn’t matter.  I’ve got a good start in that department but I still have some work to do if I want to refine my habits.

How do you take stock of your year?  Do you have any new directions for 2010?

Making your own pottery: does it fit the frugal and simple lifestyle?

My reasons for learning to craft my own pottery had nothing  to do with being frugal.   I love anything that requires me to get my hands dirty and spend hours focused on shapes and structure–I actually prefer to knead my own bread.  The bread machine takes away all that gooey fun.   On the few occasions where I’d previously been able to work with clay, I found the experience to be deeply satisfying–nearly meditative.

My very first piece: an experiment with colors that comes in handy as a sugar pot.

I also love the fact that I am starting to understand more about the way in which things can be made by hand, including lamps, to pitchers, food storage jars and cookware.  I find that learning to make useful objects allows my brain to work in different ways.

And I’ve always wanted to have a ‘craft’ of my own.  My family comes from a distant religious background very similar to that of the Amish.   Clearly, since I have a computer and drink wine, I do not observe the old order practices!  I do consider the history of my family to be my heritage, however.

I remember taking a trip back east when I was young and discovering that many family members still observed one tradition: they practiced a craft or a trade.  For me, pottery is my way of reaching back to this tradition–something I never quite managed to do before we moved to France.

I currently pay to use a pottery workshop which supplies materials and supplies.  A local potter runs the studio.  She shows beginners a few techniques and then lets us work as we choose, answering any questions, giving advice and helping out with the different machinery.  Pottery is a complex task that I think is best learned through experience under the watchful eye of an expert.  So, to me, this set up is fantastic for now.

The monthly cost of my attempts to master pottery techniques?  70 euros a month, a fair price that allows the artisan to make a living.  Still, for us, 70 euros a month represents quite a bit of money.  It’s more than our electricity bill or our internet and cell phones put together.  In fact, it is higher than our ‘entertainment’ budget.  I don’t believe making pottery saves us money, even though we use what I make, we could have also found similar items used for much less.

But saving money is not the always the point, is it?  My grandfather used to work with wood.  I’m sure some of the pieces he made us as we were growing up could have been bought for far less had they been made in China.  These pieces however, like my tiny rocking chair, my brothers’ toy cars, the spinning tops, or the hope chest my grandfather built me remain priceless family possessions to this day:  they will certainly be with us for generations.

I can’t continue to pay a studio fee forever.  For now, I’m learning the ins and outs of pottery, gaining knowledge of various techniques and deciding what areas interest me the most.  Perhaps in a year or two, I’ll discover that I’ve had my fill of ceramics and move onto something new.   Or maybe, I’ll decide that ceramics has to be a part of my long term plans.

Just in case, I’m already researching ways to build your own kiln.  People have been making pots since the dawn of civilization–I’m sure that I can discover a way to keep the tradition in my own life should I decide that’s what’s on my plate.

Motivation and creativity without a career

Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by all the things I could possibly do now that I’m not working.   In fact, my learning curve in the past two months has been rather amazing in several areas–bread making, pottery and bike maintenance are all examples.  New ideas pop into my head constantly, and I have to put them on hold because, even without an extra 60 hours of work a week, my time is still limited, after all.

What a drastic change from waking up practically stunned on Saturday mornings after a long week of hyperfocusing on my career! I used to spend about two hours every Saturday just sipping coffee and regaining consciousness.  Then I’d ask myself, “Uh. . . what should I do now?”  By the time the stunned sensation wore off, it was usually time to go back to work.  I’m sure I was creative and had ideas, it was just that all of that energy was channeled into my work.  There were so many things I didn’t have time to do.  There were so many things I didn’t have the energy to question.

Now the motivation to do so many things that I ‘should‘ be doing by normal standards has totally dried up.  Take my driving classes, for example.  Yes, yes, everyone tells me I must get my license so that I can work here, but the process is so ridiculous in France.  There are so many strange little hoops to jump through.  Combine that with the fact that I’m beginning to think that life without the car is pretty good, and I’m left with very little motivation whatsoever.  I’m beginning to wonder if I shouldn’t be conserving my energy to use in more interesting ways–like looking for work that doesn’t require driving at all.

The same goes with jumping through the hoops that would be required for me to become a teacher in this country.  Memorizing information that is irrelevant to the profession, so that I can pass a test that is not really related to teaching or to my subject matter (much less to real life)–well, I just don’t know if I can make myself do it anymore.  That was the initial plan, but it doesn’t make sense to me now.   There are other, more relevant ways I can contribute to society.  There are other, more relevant ways I can contribute to the survival of our little family.  I’m not sure I want to spend my time and creativity solving this particular problem.  There may be something much more deserving of my efforts.

An extra 60 hours a week of time spent the way I feel like spending it has made my brain grow sharp and discerning.   I’m loosing the habit of doing something I think isn’t worthwhile just because the person who sends me my paycheck tells me to, and the space to question has changed the way I look at everything.  I find that these days, I really need to know WHY I’m doing something.  If there isn’t some compelling reason–helping someone else, imrpoving something or directly contributing to society or insuring the survival of our little family of 2, then I have a very hard time making myself do it.   That scared me at first.  It still scares me a little.

But I think my time is better spent doing absolutely nothing than chasing my own tail.  It’s amazing the kinds of solutions and ideas my mind comes up with when left iddle for a while.

Three months without driving

My license doesn’t work in France.  I’ve been working towards getting one (slowly and laboriously as obtaining a driver’s license in France is somewhat of a feat).  Before arriving in France, I imagined that getting my license would be the number one priority at first.  I worried that I would feel dependent or closed in–that I wouldn’t be able to do very much without my car. After three months, I don’t actually miss driving at all. The only time I even ride in a car is when my husband and I drive somewhere to go for a hike or when we go to visit family.  Otherwise I walk, ride my bike or take public transportation.  Here are some of the ways life has changed for me since I’ve stopped driving.

I stay much closer to home. As we knew I wouldn’t be driving for a while, we chose an apartment that is downtown in a small village.  That means that the grocery stores, the butchers, bakers, veggie vendors, the cheese shops and the twice-weekly outdoor markets are all within a 15 minute walk from our home–some are less than five minutes.  I actually find that sometimes when I go out for groceries, I take the long way to the store, to vary my path and get a little extra exercise.

I have a different attitude towards shopping. Interestingly, our small town has more shops containing things we ‘need’ in a close proximity than in larger shopping districts in big cities where there tend to be more shops for clothes, shoes, fancy home and decoration items etc.  Because I tend to do my errands in a village with more utilitarian shops, I tend not to even think of buying things I don’t ‘need.’  And when I do think that I ‘need’ something that I don’t already have, going out to get it is just slightly more inconvenient, so I’m likely to put off purchases longer.  Often, in the meantime, I find a better solution to my problem or I decide that I don’t really ‘need’ the item in question after all.

My spending has become much more community based. I have a relationship with the local shop owners and cafe servers whose businesses I frequent.  I know them, I chat with them about things like the weather, family, the economy.  Sometimes I make a point of going out to buy vegetables or cheese or having a drink on the weekend in a cafe because I want to make sure the local shops stay open.  Perhaps this costs me more in the long run.  I’m not sure.  But I see it as an investment.

I don’t tend to go walking or running as often ‘just for exercise.’ Since walking is now a part of my daily routine, I no longer see additional walking or running as exercise.  Sometimes it’s fun to go out wandering around pine groves or vineyards, but I just go because I feel like it–not because I don’t get enough exercise during the day.

I tend to be involved in social activities that are closer to home. The pottery class I take and the biking group I ride with meet within five minutes of my home.   The acquaintances I’ve made (too early for friends) also live nearby, which is an interesting fringe benefit of living within a smaller area.  I remember the days in California where I’d drive all over just to see my friends.  I had friends all over the place because I drove all over the place for work and activities.

My future plans? I’ve decided I really like not driving and not having to worry about a second car, the insurance and the maintenance that goes with it.  What a hassle.  I’m going to get my license anyway–in case of emergencies it’s always a good idea.  But I’m perfectly happy not driving.  I’m not hell bent on finding a job for the time-being, but when I do start working again, I’m truly considering looking for something I can do in my community or from home and without a car.  I don’t have any specific ideas yet, but it’s amazing how things just pop into your head when you start mulling them over.