How To Grow Poor Gracefully

Zeroing in on a latter stage of life

2010-08-09T15:15:00.000-07:00

It's getting closer folks! That wonderful day when the movers will once again load the van at the storage locker and place every box of "stuff" into our Forever Home.

I picked up that expression from writing about animal shelters. But dogs don't move around with"stuff" and to say "Forever" for us is really going out on a limb. I think the longest we've been in one place was three years (in Burlington, the last time). So until these old gypsy feet (thank you, Gladys Eckels) start itching again, we'll be living at The Pines in South Burlington, Vermont. We have two bedrooms and underground parking: what more could we ask?

Free toilet paper. We've been living at The Smart Suites Extended Stay Hotel in Burlap (as my friend Sy Simonds calls Burlington) since the middle of May due to some miscommunications. All our earthly goods live a couple of blocks westward, directly across US 7 in a storage locker. It hasn't been all bad: we get maid service twice a week, great enhanced continental breakfast, have a complete, though small, kitchen, two TVs, clean towels when needed, and yes, free toilet paper. Our deck on the top floor overlooks Shelburne Bay, Lake Champlain and the Adirondacks beyond.

Life is good.

On the move again

2010-03-10T18:53:00.000-08:00

Oh, I have been a bad girl. Last post - Jan. '09; today's date - March 9, '10. But I haven't been lazy. Last January we were still adjusting to the realization we would not be able to keep our rescue dog, Fred - a handsome, gentle and loving chocolate lab. Between allergies and getting ready to move back north, Fred needed to find a new home. Just at that time, an old friend was looking for, guess what? a chocolate lab.

That settled, we searched the Internet for a campground on the New Hampshire coast, and found a great one in Exeter, NH - Exeter Elms, in the woods alongside the Exeter River off NH 108.

And then the trouble began. Unknowingly, I was harboring an antibiotic-resistant strain of e-coli, picked up, I believe, from doing physical therapy after a knee operation in a warm water pool at a rehab place. I was uncomfortable about the therapy as women were in the pool at the same time with babies in diapers. A week or so later, I got the worst case of diarrhea, ending up in the hospital. Antibiotics stopped it, but it kept reoccuring all summer - which made me very weak, mean, ornery, tired and bitchy.

Finally, we figured it was time to leave this wandering life and get someplace where I could handle my weakened condition. So it was that we settled in Exeter in a lovely apartment on the main boutiquey shopping street within walking distance of everything essential.

It's a great town with friendly, helpful people. I began writing for the Boston Examiner on senior subjects, travel, and pet photography. A penny a click, so it's not going to put food on the table, but it keeps me busy and the investigative end of it is fun

I went to the senior center to play bridge weekly, but gave up because half the people couldn't see and the other half couldn't hear. Makes for pretty sloppy play.

One day, Cor said, 'You know, I just don't feel like this is home.' When I said, 'I know what you mean. Where do you think home is?' He said, 'Burlington.' I agreed, and that is why we are downsizing for the umpteenth time and readying ourselves for the move north as soon as a space becomes available in Cathedral Square.

Perhaps then, I'll get settled and be able to continue my discourse on How To Grow Poor Gracefully. We're doing the first part of that sentence; it's the adverb that's in doubt.

Sorry this is such a dull post....it's been a dull year. But when we get back to Church Street, Mallett's Bay and all our old sailing buddies, watch out!

2009-01-18T16:20:00.000-08:00

October, 2009 - An update of last post: deleted most of it as irrelevant. The few old paragraphs are left, just to bring us up to present status.

Wow! last post - July 2007, and here it is: January 2009.

Today's challenge is to make a budget we can live with....

We'll go to New Hampshire this summer and spend some time looking to the future. Do we dare continue the nomad life, or is it time to look for a permanent spot. And what can we afford? Certainly not any of the "senior living" places. We must sell the Motorhome; that's a loser to begin with. Maybe we can find some nice couple who would take us in exchange for what we can afford plus house sitting and a modicum of house work. Maybe this nice couple likes to go south in the winter and needs someone to monitor the snow on the roof or keep the pipes from freezing. Time will tell.

In the meantime, we continue to lead life gracefully. We smile, behave properly, and don't complain.

Post script: October 2009

Enough Already! Now that I've been in one place for more than two months, it's time to start percolating. Don't complain? Why not? There's no better way to allow rot to consume your energy and will than to be complaisant.

I just have to remember not to let complaining run my life. Though not a member of AA, I find great solace in their Serenity Prayer: "God grant us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, courage to change the things we can, and wisdom to know the difference."

I'm in the middle of re-reading Oliver Wiswell by Kenneth Roberts. It's astounding how much the political dialog smacks of today's situation. Then it was mob mentality; today the shape of the mobs has changed, but the mentality remains the same. Then, the motives for action were so convoluted it was hard to separate the Good Guys from the Bad Guys. Today - nothing has changed. I find myself wavering from my eternal optimism - the outlook that has carried me through rough patches all my life. I still look for the good in any situation, but my range has narrowed down to years rather than decades. As the world goes now, it is unsustainable; the hope for alternatives has narrowed. Remember Rome?

While residing in Burlington, VT we had the priviledge of joining UVM Professor Emeritus of biology, John Davison for our bi-weekly coffee and cinnamon doughnuts at Price Chopper. When he and Cor weren't raucously enjoying their flights of imitating the likes of Winton Churchill and Lionel Barrymore, John would tell us his views on politics, religion, the dark fate of democracy and evolution. I concur, and hope I have not misrepresented him. For a look at his own words, follow this link:

http://jadavison.wordpress.com/2007/12/25/evolution-is-finished/#comment-2376

I have to wonder if I'm jaded by the past two months of lining up medical help in Exeter, NH, our new home. Success was had, but finding doctors who would both accept Medicare and take new patients seemed daunting at times. But the medical accessibility situation is what "the best minds" in our Congress are trying to muck through now - "best minds in Congress?" - now there's and oxymoron, or at least a conundrum.

I better quit, I'm getting punchy.

Tempus Fugit

2007-07-21T10:02:00.000-07:00

Nearly another year has slipped by and I find myself still at the computer, but this time with a driven purpose.

Growing poor gracefully is getting more and more difficult. Perhaps that's for the better. I'm beginning to slip into a new mind-set, forgetting the trappings of the past. But then, perhaps "Grace" is living submissively in the present; accepting what comes your way and sharing your more generous side with others. That isn't necessarily tangible things, but thoughts, good will, love and humor.

I've noticed lately that hearing others tell about "how it was when" not only bores the be-Jesus out of me, but I feel like saying, "Face it, that was then...." "Tell me what you're doing now."

I have to admit that if I run into someone who shared my sort of past, it is fun to reminisce as long as we're not tyring to "one-up" each other. I don't care if your daddy had 6 Cadillacs; I am interested in what he did (maybe), or if he had six toes on each foot, but don't talk money. If find it crass. My New England upbringing - I was taught that you don't discuss politics, religion, or money. Nowadays, we do discuss those things - and for the better. How else would we know what is going on in this world. I'll admit to one thing: I am a Lou Dobbs fan, and that's all I'll say about that.

Now I have to get back to work, trying to catch up with inflation by creating an online New England country store. I won't put in a link, but if you care to see what's in it - look for New England Snippets with the dot com.

This May the following things rose, some doubled: Rent; Electric bill; gasoline; bananas; postage; Paypal merchant account (up 60%); birdseed; everything but our income (fixed). At least Price Chopper's cinnamon doughnuts have stayed the same. We buy them when they have the "Buy 6, get 6 free,) eat two in the store's cafe, take 10 home to the freezer, and bring two at a time with us every Wednesday and Saturday. That's our big restaurant meal each week - doughnuts and coffee at Price Chopper. Instead of buying two cups of coffee @ $1.34 per, we take our mug and pay $1.19 for a "refill" then split it. I take my own small cup to pour 1/2 into. The gal at the counter knows this...and it's perfectly legal, even if it is cheap - hardly graceful, but practical. But grace isn't about money.

If any reader has some good money-saving ideas and would like to share; please do. Just one thing though - please don't push a product or service with links - they'll be scratched. You know about "shareware" - same idea, just be graceful and share your tips. What goes 'round, comes 'round.

Bye for now...hafta go see what my daughter's up to...riding across the country by herself on her Harley...my, oh my...I've learned to accept a lot. I wish her the best!

The Slippery Slope

2006-09-03T19:45:00.001-07:00

It's been nearly a year since I started this blog. I've only made three postings in that time. Too busy doing too many things and achieving nothing.

I was amused by a couple of comments on my past posts. I thank them for their wisdom, but I have no intention of buying penny stocks, getting another college degree, or raising cedar trees for profit. I intend to learn how to manage with what I have - NOW. We are not alone. I hope to have good news to spread among others in our predicament.

We'll work with what we have. I have a lucite cane I painted with stars and stripes. If I'm going to need a cane, I might as well enjoy it. People liked it. So, to keep Cor out of my kitchen, we bought several wooden canes which he decorated with Christmas doo-dads, Good Luck icons, cute bugs, etc.

A relative asked if he could paint her a cane with lighthouses on it, and so, we started on our fumbling way. I used to have a pie basket, but it was lost in our perpetual shuffle. We found a new one at a local gift shop. The price was out of our range. We decided to buy it however, put a lighthouse on it and as the saying goes, "Send it up the flagpole and see if she flies."

She flew! A friend saw it and wanted to buy one for his wife for Christmas, but our light, Colchester Reef in Lake Champlain, meant nothing to her. Presto! "The Lighthouse of Your Choice" was born! We are boaters, so had an extensive photo gallery to draw from. We also appreciated the mysteries, both fact and fiction, of lighthouses and their occupants. Writing a concise history for each house was a surmountable challenge.

The next sale was of the Little Red Lighthouse under the George Washington Bridge on the Hudson River. This was great fun as we nearly ran our boat on the rocks trying to get a unique view of it. But hey! Anything for the job, right? What a shot! It pans across the river to show the Palisades in the background, not the New York shore. This was followed by Edgartown, Boston Light, Brant Point, Penfield, Cape Lookout, Minot, to name a few. Each basket had the history of the light laminated onto the inside cover. It was fun! We've branched into smaller things now; child's stools, boxes, etc. - lower priced.

But that's beside the point of this blog....I needed to answer a question for myself: How do old* people like us maintain their health, humor and honor while the world swirls by.

Have you ever noticed that convenience stores, those that people can walk to, are expensive? Of course, they don't have the buying power of the supermarkets. Recently, we paid $5.00 for a pound of butter that cost $1.74 at the super. You might ask, "Why do you buy butter?" and I might answer, "Because every once in a blue moon, I treat myself to some fresh cookies made with REAL butter, REAL brown sugar and REAL oatmeal." So, there!

We've had some health issues lately that have spurred me into thinking about nutrition and how to afford healthy food. I have kept an accounting of what I've spent on food for the past several years (thank you Quicken.) I didn't have a budget - too late for that after you've eaten it. But now I will track the categories and see where I can cut while maintaining variety and nutrition. It will be tough. Two years ago, I spent 33 cents a pound for bananas; now it's 59 cents. Little crocks of oleo were 99 cents; now $1.47.

We are lucky. Cor retired from the Bell system in 1974 - 32 years ago! They are among the Good Guys, and have kept the pension coming, but in 1974 dollars. The biggest benefit they give is medical, prescription, and dental insurance. No big deal ten years ago, but it keeps us floating now. The wolf is close enough that I have great empathy for those who must chose between drugs and food. The crisis is REAL, just like my REAL cookies.

I've whimpered enough for now...time to look for the answers. In the meantime, we can't wait to finish the lease on our PT Cruiser and get a smaller, energy efficient car. I don't think paying a lot for good mileage is a sound bet for us. We don't drive that much and would probably never make up the difference in gas savings.

Thanks for listening. I'll be back sometime soon (-er or later. I procrastinate too.)

*I am old. I was told so. A few years ago, we visited a childhood friend in Vermont. She kindly gave a cocktail party and invited several people we hadn't seen in years. We were all standing around when her sister-in-law walked in the door, looked me squarely in the eye, and said, "You're old." The room went silent. I wish I'd been able to come up with any of the bon mots I've thought of since then. I just stood, stunned, as did everyone else. Ah, well. It's all relative.

If you would like to see Cor's lighthouses, click this link: http://www.lighthouses-4-sale.com

Money and Aging

2005-09-17T02:50:00.000-07:00

I always loved uniforms: Girl Scouts, football players, nurses - you name it. I was a Girl Scout. I was a Mariner. I graduated to becoming a camp counselor wearing snappy green shorts, a starched white middy blouse and green tie.

When I was 21, I married and moved to Cleveland where I became a proper matron. Proper matrons did volunteer work so I followed in the mold. The Red Cross had neat uniforms, especially the motor corps drivers, so I followed there too. Oh, it was grand! Heavy grey serge suit, epaulets, shiny brass buttons, real style. It was also the start of my realization that America has a caste system.

I'd always known that some people had more money than others, but it had never penetrated my numb mind that this made any difference. Sure, domestic servants only had Thursdays and every other Sunday off, but they enjoyed their work, didn't they? Some of my college classmates lived in co-op dorms. So their families didn't have as much money as mine, but that didn't matter to them, did it? I just breezed along happily blind to race, color, creed and "station." Frankly, I'm grateful for my naievity.

It was driving for the Red Cross that opened my eyes. My orders for the day were to drive some "old folks" from the Golden Age Center to the hospital for shots. For the most part, they needed help into the van. Some were on walkers and canes. Many were overweight and bent. They were not happy people.

It came as a depressing shock when I discovered that they were mostly in their 50s or early 60s! Why, people I knew were in their 70s and 80s and playing golf and tennis! Those Golden Agers really should take care of themselves...get outdoors, get excercise, eat more fruits and vegetables! Slowly, I realized the fact that all those good living habits cost money...lots of money. But what could I do about that, a harrassed housewife trying to keep up with three children, a husband to feed and my golf and tennis? Ah! How callous. Youth!

I began to go downhill physically as soon as my financial situation began to deteriorate. Granted you have to add a recurrence of my old polio (called post-polio syndrome), but as long as I had continued to excercise, eat well and remain "comfortable," I maintained the status quo.

My late husband's alchoholism began to affect our income. For that reason, I became fully involved in my business - working full time plus, and giving up my outside, fun activities. Instead of walking 36 holes, I was sitting at the computer for 36 hours. Instead of strengthening my abs, I was developing carpel tunnel syndrome. Instead of keeping my mind limber with a sociable afternoon of bridge, I was befuddling my mind with schedules, deadlines and spiraling costs. In short, I was slipping, but powerless to stop the slide.

The polio has been progressing of late. After eliminating other causes for my decline (lupus and polymyacitis among them), my doctors recommended a regimen of physical therapy that included swimming. It was great - until the bill came! Simply put, I can't afford it. I do some of the excercises on my own, but I rarely find time for them now. Why? I'm back to work. I work at home, developing an e-Bay business. Until I get a simple product that I can sell, sell and resell, I spend an enormous amount of time researching antiques, coins, art, etc. It's a very satisfying job, but my health is the looser in this race. And nutrition? Have you priced fruits, vegetables, dairy and fish lately?

I bought a bicycle. My now-husband's sons gave him a bicycle. We live on the bike path and our main activity for excercise and fun is to take a picnic lunch down to the waterfront. There we sit in the sun, observing and commenting: "How can they walk with their crotch around their knees?" "She really shouldn't be showing that stomach!" "Now, there's a real dog! Do you think its mother was a golden?" "Why don't they let the kid walk?" I think it's called "catty."

We often wonder what they must be saying about us. "Look at those old fahts! On bikes, they're dangerous!" Once, we were told we looked like bookends...both with white hair and grizzed and tan from spending so many years living on a boat. Which, I might add, is a good way to live cheaply in beautiful surroundings. We were very healthy then, but now we're paying for the sun exposure. Squamous cell carcinoma is rampant and the plastic surgeons are having a field day.

While money can't buy you health, it can sure go a long way in helping you maintain what you have. And mental attitude? Wow! Our hope springs eternal though. We buy lotto tickets (2 each week) and have a blast "spending" our winnings. My husband says that if we win now, we'll only break even. Che sera.

The first step

2005-06-02T22:54:00.000-07:00

To grow poor, gracefully or not, there are a few vital requirements. Accept it. Don't be ashamed of it. Sure, it's fine to do your darndest to avoid the situation, but when it overtakes you, move on.

I was on top of the world, but began to realize that things were slipping. I was what is known as an "enabler"...that's an AA euphorism for the spouse who tries to pretend that everything is just lovely. Actually, everyone knows it isn't, but she pretends they don't.

After about 25 years of this, I decided that I'd better act to preserve what was left financially. I became involved in what had been a hobby - speculative designing and building - and did pretty darned well. October 19, 1987 changed all that. My market (1 mil +) evaporated. Companies had been buying their CO's old houses so they could buy ours. That ended abruptly and I was stuck with three houses too many.

By 1989, I realized there was no way that I, at 59, could pay off $600,000 in bank debt...which grew daily in interest. I paid off all my subs, got in my car, said goodbye to my husband and drove to Florida. Living is easy there...

I couldn't stay at my old home. The worst moment was admitting that "I can't afford my friends." Sure, they were nice and invited me here and there, but how long can you accept their charity? No...gotta go. Gotta start anew.

I knew Florida pretty well from golfing vacations. So off I went by myself, car loaded down, with a bit of apprehension. I had enough money to subsist, but I needed a job. That's a long story. The point is that being totally new in town, I had no "position" to live up to. I was just another person moving there because I wouldn't have to heat a house.

I finally got a job ($4.75 an hour - Whoopee!). Several years passed. Six years later, I was up to $7.50 - and that's good in FL. Life was good though; mainly because I wasn't trying to impress anyone...no Jones' to keep up with.

That's enough for now...

Blogging Day 1...for better or for worse

2005-05-30T17:53:00.000-07:00

"Birds do it..." so let's give blogging a try.

A recent article in a college magazine told of five or six alumnae bloggers. The year of their graduation followed their names. '98, '06, '99, etc. The youngest was class of '75. Horrers! an Ancient!

I like a challenge like that. I was class of '52, otherwise known as the dark ages. Did you read the poem "When I am old I shall wear purple" that stated the writer's independence? Well, I don't wear purple (my husband only likes it in flowers), but I do enjoy a few independent thoughts to cast on the waters, and look forward to seeing what input comes back.

As the blog's name implies, we have learned "How to grow poor gracefully." At least we think so. Our old friends may be horrified at some of our lifestyle changes, but so be it.

I usually dream about some contentious problem just as I'm waking up. So, now while I go make dinner, I'll start jotting down some topics for tomorrow.