I really enjoyed all the frugal meals tips you all had to share yesterday. We will all be an informed bunch of women when it comes to being frugal with all these wonderful tips. We’ll save money.
I’ve been focusing more of my Pinterest Boards on being frugal and using the homemade instead of purchasing the ready made.
I would imagine there’s a lot of people in this world having to cut back and find ways to stretch a dollar.
Someone commented that my Pinterest Boards are like Wikipedia. And I suppose they’re right. I have lots of boards. Over 200 in fact.
Sales Tax In Our State:
Here in Oklahoma we pay sales tax on food. Why not charge a high sales tax on big ticket items like TVs and other electronics and leave food out of the equation. People need food to survive, but they don’t need that big flat screen TV.
In Texas we didn’t pay sales tax on food. When I moved back here I felt the sting every time I went to buy groceries because I’d experienced that luxury.
A Brief Spat Of Snow:
Yesterday it began to snow just as my daughter and I were going to our respective cars after lunch. It started slow and then worked up to bigger flakes. But after about an hour, it stopped and the sun came out.
I was a little disappointed. As I had mused that it would be quite wonderful to hole up here all weekend with a Norman Rockwell like nature painting outside my window.
During lunch my daughter asked me if I had plans for the weekend. Well now she has to know I never have plans for the weekend unless it’s with her. But I know she finds this lack of sociability odd. She loves to be out and about. I don’t.
She asked me how I find things to write about if I don’t go out much. I nearly laughed. But then I guess that would be a common question about someone who blogs, but who tends to write about nothing particularly newsworthy.
I told her it seems I can always think of something to write about. Somehow I don’t feel that I have to go out to relay my day and subsequent thoughts.
We are so different. She loves numbers and I love words. If I had to work with numbers every day I’d probably end up in a strait jacket. Out of sheer boredom.
Ivy is trying my patience this morning. First she ran from one end of this place to the other jumping from surface to surface (quite impressively I might add). She was going so fast she was but a blur.
I don’t claim to know what goes on inside a cat’s head. But this reminds me of someone who has totally taken leave of their senses. There is nothing to run from. Nothing to run toward.
And then every little bit she heads to the coffee table to munch on the faux leaves. (Not really eating them, just chewing on them.)
She pretty much left this arrangement alone for a week. But she’s making up for her lack of attention to it now.
And when I reprimand her she hides, thinking I don’t see her.
I’m reminded of those children’s magazines that were in the pediatricians office where I took my children years ago when I look at the photo above.
They always had a page where you had to look for an object that was fairly hidden and camouflaged.
Do you see her? She’s giving me the stink eye.
What my granny would say:
As my granny would say, “Listen, we’re about to go round and round.” That doesn’t mean what it implies. It means we’re about to have a war of wills and see who wins.
I tell her to get down. Then I tell her in a loud voice to get down. And then I get really irritated because she isn’t paying a bit of attention to me and yell, “Ivy Lou, get down from there!”
She is oblivious. All this does is send Charlie running into the bedroom because he thinks he’s in trouble.
If he had a tail it would be between his legs as he runs from the room.
Lunch with my daughter:
On my way to meet my daughter for lunch yesterday, I noticed my low tire light was on. I turned around and went to the Mobil station I always take my car to for oil changes and such. It’s just about a block or so from me and I hadn’t gotten far.
There was a male customer, I’d say in his twenties or thirties, inside the station. The man who owns the place came in to explain what the man needed for his car.
The young man’s cell phone rang. He answered it, “Yo, oh I’m getting my car looked at.” I could hear the woman on the other end. “So and so needs gas money so you need to come by here.” And on it continued for a bit.
Now he could have let that go to voice mail. He was taking up the man’s time who owns the station. And it was obvious he couldn’t care less about doing so.
He hangs up and it rings again. By that time I’m ready to throttle him. I stand and stare out the window while gritting my teeth.
The tomfoolery store owners must deal with:
The man who owns the station was very gracious about it.
Rude. Just downright rude. But then you know how I feel about this because I rant about it fairly often, don’t I?
The man who owns the station went back outside and I was left in the small room with the young man. His phone rings again and he goes into much ado about nothing much.
I tell you, it was all I could do not to turn around and ask him if he was raised in a barn. Instead I continued facing the window and resumed gritting my poor teeth.
Nothing but noise:
I realize people are carrying guns these days. We’ve entered the era of Gunsmoke. Remember that old show? Things were often handled with a gun at the ready.
I truly don’t want to get shot over something so stupid. But it might have been worth it to take my chances to see the expression on his face.
Really, it’s not as if they’re talking about an emergency. It’s just talk. Noise. Why do people have to constantly make noise?
Don’t they want to hear something more reflective than their own inane voice? How about listening to a bird singing?
How about just thinking? Maybe try to solve the consequences of climate change in their head or something equally ambitious?
Everywhere I go, conversations are going on around me. And now instead of dealing with one conversation between two people, you have to deal with everyone with a cell phone. So that’s twice the noise.
It would suit me just fine if every cell phone in this world just blew up. I hate them with a passion. It isn’t so much the phones I hate really. No, it’s the people using them.
It is an addiction, I tell you:
People are addicted to that silly screen. They’re either talking or checking on something or texting. Nothing vital. Just something to do. To fiddle with.
Because no one seems capable of just being. Being still, being observant. Having manners. Being nice.
You can’t go anywhere without this stupidity. Not a restaurant or a store or anywhere else.
How teachers manage classrooms I don’t know. They don’t make enough money to deal with this foolishness. How can they teach when these children all have cell phones?
One of these days I’m afraid I’m going to lose it and grab a phone and smash it beneath my foot. Oh, it would give me such satisfaction to hear the crunch of that thing while the innards are broken to smithereens.
I can’t think of much of anything that would give me more satisfaction actually.
No, I know I must refrain. But I can dream, can’t I?