Making my own bread to save some dough!
I've been reading books on how to live more frugally. Number one bit of advice? Stop eating out so much. Cut those restaurant bills, I'm told, and you'll save thousands.
Only, we never eat out. Or hardly ever. Okay, so cut out those weekend get-aways! Those weekly bouquets of tulips! No more bottled water! Take your lunch to work and school! Wash and reuse those baggies!
Hmmm ... I think I need I need a book on frugality for people who are already sort of frugal but spend too much on fabric and yarn and books. I suppose it would be called Stop Spending So Much Money on Fabric and Yarn and Books!
I have mixed feelings about the frugality books I'm reading. On the one hand, I appreciate the tips (some of which are actually helpful, especially when it comes to using less energy around the house). On the other hand, there's often a "holier than thou" tone I could do without (as well as the "what kind of idiot would spend money on ____" shtick that you often find in books written by men. "Yeah, we used to be chumps like you suckers," writes Mr. Cheapskate Testosterone, "and then we stopped heating our house and saved thousands each year!").
A book I was reading last night suggested I stock up on crescent rolls when they're on sale so I could make homemade desserts with them. Does layering a pan of crescent rolls with chocolate chips really constitute a homemade dessert? Maybe, but I'm a little suspicious.
I am interested to see how low I can get my weekly food bill without causing the family to revolt. I'm committed to baking more, which should go over well, and to stretching out meals (which may prove less popular). Last night we had beef and noodle soup made from leftovers from the bottom roast we ate the night before. It was a three pound roast I'm determined to stretch out into at least three meals, possible four (though not in a row).
Other frugal reading? My credit card bill. I'm fairly good about scanning it from time to time online to make sure there's no suspicious activity (both the Man and my dad have had their accounts hacked). But now I'm determined to check daily. On Friday, a mysterious $46 charge showed up. After some sleuthing, I determined it was an automatic renewal for a quilt magazine subscription I'd given to my mom for Christmas 2012 (at a much lower rate, I might add).
I called the subscription agency and had a frustrating conversation with a computer, who spent a good three minutes trying to entice me to continue with the subscription (which my mom no longer wanted, by the way). Finally, I got it through the computer's thick head that I wanted no great deals, no free issues, nothing. By the end of the conversation I was yelling, "No! No! No! Just cancel it!" Finally, sounding very sad about it, the computer promised to cancel the subscription.
So $46 that might have very well slipped under my radar has been saved! The trick now is to not spend it.
Back to the books. More soon!