Maybe this applies to lottery winners?

I stumbled upon a bizarre little meme as follows: "When you get rich, remember this."

Rule 1: Tell no one, not even your parents.

Rule 2: Pay off your debts before anything else.

Rule 3: Let the money sit untouched for six months.

Rule 4: Don't upgrade your house right away.

Rule 5: Don't quit your job immediately.

Rule 6: Skip the flashy purchases.

Rule 7: Never go into business with friends or family.

Rule 8: This post didn't reach you by accident.

______________________

Maybe this applies to lottery winners? In any event, I'll keep this in mind in the unlikely event we ever get rich.

Problems of the wealthy

A random story popped up on my computer the other day, a story from Kiplinger's "Wealth Wise" advice column: "Can a 64-Year-Old Retire on $1.6 Million and 'Shaky' Social Security?" (Please note this person is my age.)

"Dear Wealth Wise," wrote the advice-seeker. "I'm 64 (almost 65), work full-time, and I'm tired of being told to use AI at my job. Can I retire on $1.6 million if my yearly spending needs are roughly $90,000 and Social Security will pay $3,500 a month (if benefits remain fully payable)?"

I confess I choked on my tea when I read this. This dude has $1.6 million in his retirement and his Social Security benefits are $3,500 a month? Yowza. Don receives Social Security, and let's just say his payments are considerably less than $3,500 per month.

This man's spending needs amount to $90,000 per year, or $7,500 per month. To us, that is wealth untold.

I think one of the things that baffles me about this kind of financial question is it highlights the different approach to spending and the dichotomy between the wealthy and the lower middle class. Because our income has always been unstable – and because we've experienced the horrors of debt – we've learned to live below our means, however humble those means are. We've spent years finding ways to whittle down our expenses and our spending. This has enabled us to pivot on a dime and adapt when times get tough (see here and here). As a result, we feel very financially stable.

The Kiplinger advice columnist was able to assure the man that yes, he could retire on that kind of income: "Our reader's estimated $42,000 annual Social Security benefit should cover roughly half of annual spending needs. The remaining $48,000 will need to come out of savings. Using the popular 4% rule, $1.6 million could support $64,000 in annual withdrawals. Since our reader only needs $48,000, they have a pretty good buffer."

Now don't get me wrong; this person is to be commended for his diligent savings during his working years. I know no one who has that much put away, so kudos to him and I hope he enjoys his retirement.

But for those of us who were not as financially blessed during our productive years (obviously we get by on a whole lot less than $90K), we've had to adapt and make do. This video is more along the lines of our financial philosophy: "How to Live on a Low Income, $30,000 or less." Don points out that $90K is not a huge income anymore, and in fact falls distinctly into the middle class. I guess that puts us in the "lower middle class" category.

This kinda reminds me of a couple of quotes. Someone once said, "A rich man is not the one that has the most – it's the one that needs the least."

And Diogenes of Sinope (c. 413/403 – c. 324/321 B.C.) famously tells a similar anecdote, to wit: A philosopher named Aristippus, who had quite willingly sucked up to Dionysus and won himself a spot at his court, saw Diogenes cooking lentils for a meal. "If you would only learn to compliment Dionysus, you wouldn't have to live on lentils." Diogenes replied, "But if you would only learn to live on lentils, you wouldn't have to flatter Dionysus.

As it happens, I'm very fond of lentils.

What are your thoughts? Could you afford to retire on $90,000/year?

What it takes to live "comfortably"

A staggeringly unrealistic article recently came out entitled "This Is The Income A Family Needs To Live Comfortably In Every U.S. State."

As expected, certain high cost-of-living states dominated the list, such as California, Massachusetts, Hawaii, etc. In these states, the income necessary for a "comfortable" lifestyle can top $300,000. 

So of course, the first thing I looked up is the income necessary for a comfortable lifestyle in Idaho. And do you know what income allegedly is? $226,000!!!!!

My outraged comment to Don was, "On what planet?" 

Seriously, I know no one – literally no one – whose income even remotely approaches that ballpark, yet the vast majority of us are able to live "comfortably" (though unquestionably a little more income for most people would be welcome).

These stats are based on two working adults with two children. According to the article, the numbers are "based on the familiar 50/30/20 budget: 50% for necessities, 30% for discretionary spending, and 20% for savings or other goals. These aren’t bare-minimum survival numbers – they’re what it takes to live pretty well while still putting money aside."

That's fine and dandy, but I guess what isn't clear is how they define "comfortable." Perhaps it's the economic point where people don't have to think about or worry about money? The trouble with this definition is it doesn't account for lifestyle creep: Those whose earnings approach the "comfortable" level often opt for more expensive cars, homes, goods, services, etc., and then complain they can't "afford" everything they want.

Within reason – I'm not talking about those living in poverty or mired in medical debt – it seems to me it's far better to be grateful that we can afford the daily comforts we take for granted.

By that definition, the vast majority of people are already "comfortable."

Money troubles: Truth or fiction?

Recently, Daisy Luther ("The Organic Prepper") wrote a piece entitled "Seven Lies People with Money Problems Tell Themselves."

She distinguishes between those who are just in a rough patch (hey, it happens to everyone) and those who are perpetually in a downward financial spiral. It's the "downward spiral" people she's addressing. "These lies are very common, and they can keep you trapped in a bad situation for a very long time," she writes.

She lists the seven lies as follows:

• It's not my fault. ("Taking personal responsibility for your mistakes is the first step toward setting things right. Nearly every financial situation could have been different if a different series of decisions had been made.")
• It's just this once. ("Whether you’re buying something frivolous on your credit card, going out to dinner because you don’t feel like cooking, or take some other shortcut, it’s really never 'just this once.'")
• My children shouldn't know we're having money problems. ("You need to consider that living in a glowing perfect world where every bill payment is met with ease and budgets don’t seem to exist – things just magically work out – that’s a fairy tale. And if they grow up believing in that fairy tale, you are setting them up for a life of difficulty.")
• Paying off debt is always the most important thing. ("If you are in a bad situation financially, there are lots of things you should be paying before you exceed the minimum payment on your debts.")
• You have to have a credit card to get by in this world. ("It’s far from a necessity, especially if you have a debit card with the Mastercard or Visa logo on it.")
• I deserve a treat. ("This is one of the most dangerous financial lies out there. If you believe that budget be d*mned, you have had a bad day and you deserve that treat regardless, you’re treading into dangerous territory.")
• Money doesn't buy happiness. ("Money makes your life easier, more comfortable, and less stressful. And while that isn’t a recipe for joy, it sure does help make room in your life for seeking those things that make you truly happy.")

(Deeper explanations for each point can be found in the article.)

While Daisy makes exceptions for things that are out of one's control – such as catastrophic illness or injury – in other respects she puts financial hardship squarely in the laps of individuals. To be fair, it sounds like she knows what she's talking about. In her past, she's hit periods of economic rock-bottom, including losing her home to foreclosure, losing her car to repossession, and dumpster diving to feed her kids.

Daisy emphasizes changing one's mindset as an aid toward climbing out of the pit of economic instability. Certainly it's a tool in the toolbox.

But has she gone too far? Are those experiencing economic difficulties largely to blame themselves? What are your thoughts?

$28 lunches?

Now that Older Daughter is no longer living with us, I'm rediscovering my cooking skills. (For the duration of the time she was staying with us, Older Daughter's "rent" was cooking, and man was she good at it!) Recently I found a nice recipe online called "Sweet Chili Rice Bowls" and decided to give it a go. It was delicious, so the other day I made a much larger batch so Don and I would have several days' worth of meals.

Here are the ingredients:

• 1 pound boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into bite-sized pieces
• 1 cup jasmine rice
• 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
• 1 cup broccoli florets
• 1 red bell pepper, sliced
• 1⁄4 cup sweet chili sauce
• 2 tablespoons soy sauce
• 1 tablespoon rice vinegar
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 teaspoon grated ginger
• 2 green onions, chopped
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Sesame seeds for garnish

I made a few changes to accommodate what ingredients we had on hand. I used canned chicken instead of uncooked chicken. I didn't have any red bell peppers, so I chopped up an onion. I used apple cider vinegar instead of rice vinegar.

However I would like to point out that every single ingredient (with the exception of the chopped garlic, which I canned last fall) is store-bought, not home-grown. I didn't make the vinegar, or the soy sauce, or the sweet chili sauce. I didn't grow the ground ginger or even the broccoli or onion (too early in the season). The chicken was also not home-grown. Yep, all store-bought. Keep that in mind for a bit.

Making the dish is easy. While the rice cooked, I drained the canned chicken...

...then added it to a pot with some olive oil (another store-bought ingredient). Then I chopped an onion and some broccoli...

...and added it to the chicken.

Since the chicken was already cooked, all I had to do was soften the broccoli and onions a bit. I covered the pot for a few minutes to let steam do its job, then uncovered and kinda stir-fried the mix.

Then I added all the spices and sauces.

This portion of the dish was ready before the rice was finished cooking, so when the rice was done, I dumped the stir-fry part into the rice and mixed everything up.

It's not fancy, but it's hearty, filling, and provides enough for at least six meals (three days for two people).

Now let's break down the costs a bit. Since I tend to buy some things in bulk (notably chicken breasts which I can up, as well as rice in 50-lb. bags), let's bring the prices up to reflect current grocery-store costs for the triple batch I made. For convenience's sake, I'll use the Walmart check-a-price website, even though I don't shop at Walmart since it's so far away:

• 2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into bite-sized pieces (about $8)
• 4 cups jasmine rice (about $3.22)
• 6 tablespoons olive oil (about $2)
• 2 cup broccoli florets (about $1.25)
• 1 onion, chopped (about $0.75)
• 1 cup sweet chili sauce (about $1.81)
• 1/2 cup soy sauce (about $1)
• 2 tablespoon apple cider vinegar ($0.07)
• 2 tablespoons chopped garlic ($0.19)
• 1 teaspoon ground ginger ($0.05)
• Salt and pepper to taste ($0.05)
• Sesame seeds for garnish ($0.05)

These ingredients add up to $18.44. From this enormous batch I made, I estimate we'll get at least six meals (three meals apiece) for Don and I, which comes out to about $3.07 per meal. Understand, however, that since we buy so many things in bulk, the actual cost is a whole lot less.

Now why, you may ask, did I go through all the trouble to break down this particular meal? Two reasons. One, it consists of store-bought (as opposed to farm-grown) ingredients). Not everyone has the benefit of a homestead to supplement their diet, so realistically most people get their food from the grocery store. And two, it illustrates how inexpensive it is to create meals at home, even for people (like me) who are less-than-enthusiastic cooks.

This whole exercise came about because of an opinion piece I read recently by someone named Ward Clark entitled "Young People Drowning in Food Costs? Try Boomer-Style Frugality."

Mr. Clark wrote, "It's a bit frustrating, and not just for us aging Boomers, to see young people whining about the cost of eating, and then to learn that they are getting much of their food from Uber Eats or DoorDash."

He then profiled a Twitter (X) post in which a young person complained, "Lunch just costs $28 now. Are they not supposed to eat?" To this, a Boomer named Joel Berry jumped in and broke down the cost of a healthy homemade lunch made with store-bought ingredients (wheat bread, deli turkey, cheddar, condiment of choice, apple, hard-boiled egg, carrot sticks, tap water) for a grand total of $2.05 and concluded by saying, "You can do this."

As of the publication of Mr. Clark's opinion piece, Joel Berry's X post had received 9.3 million views, most of which presumably applauded his Boomer frugality. Conclusion: Don't gripe about $28 lunches when there are far more inexpensive alternatives, none of which take much by way of kitchen skills.

Does it seems a lot of younger people are deliberately sabotaging their own finances beyond repair through spectacularly bad decisions and behaviors, like regularly having $28 lunches instead of $2 lunches? Maybe it's because, as journalist and technology columnist Taylor Lorenz pointed out, DoorDash has become a "necessity" because Zoomers lack the "capacity" to cook. But are Zoomers incapable of making a sandwich? For some people, that $28 is a week's worth of groceries.

It took me about fifteen minutes to throw together those rice bowls, which provided enough food to last both of us for three meals. And don't forget that turkey sandwich and veggies lunch recipe. If you're incapable of pulling together a lunch that simple, then you have more serious problems than you realize.

My "Boomer" advice to young people is this: Learn to cook. Or at least, learn to make a sandwich. Your future self will thank you.

"Keeping up with the influencers"

You know how once in a while, you stumble upon a video that rivets you in horrified fascination, and subsequently it takes you down a rabbit hole of binge-watching similar videos? This just happened to me.

To back up somewhat: Most readers know something about our fiscal history. (If not, a synopsis can be read here.) In our younger years, we got ourselves deeper in debt than we were comfortable with, though never to the point of not being able to pay our bills. We always paid our bills, but there were times we were very, very tight financially. This is one of the reasons we're huge fans of thrift stores and a cash-only lifestyle. The debt we had was all for "legitimate" cost-of-living expenses as we raised our girls, but it was still debt.

The result of many years of financial uncertainty has left me with something akin to a pathological fear of debt. The peace of mind that comes with not owing any money is hard to describe.

So when I came across a random video entitled "Let's Watch 25 Minutes of People Living Above Their Means & Going BROKE" by someone called Zac Rios, I clicked.

Oh my.

All this guy does, as far as I know, is trawl around social media, gathering up videos of people confessing (or bragging) about how much money they've spent that landed them in astronomical debt, how hard they try to justify it, and apparently why they refuse to change their ways.

Mr. Rios admits one of his reasons for posting these videos is to get viewers "scared straight" about their own spending habits. He says if he were to don a suit and tie and stand in front of a white board giving an economics lesson, most people would tune out. But this – these naked, raw, real testimonies of people who are ruining their lives through financial illiteracy – is eye-opening. Watching clip after clip after clip after clip is like watching a train wreck. I couldn't look away.

Make no mistakes: The people putting these videos on the internet are not lamenting their poverty or the hardships they're experiencing due to medical expenses, job loss, disability, or other unavoidable factors beyond their control. Instead, the clips profile people who simply spent too much on every passing "want" and either don't know or don't care that they'll never get out from under the resulting crushing debt.

Among the factors involved in these irrational decisions:

• YOLO (You Only Live Once) or "doom" spending

• Social media fueled by influencers

• The "image is everything" mindset

• Instant gratification

Influencers seem to be a major factor in this overspending trend. Having watched a number of these videos, it's clear the host focuses on living beyond one's means as a lifestyle choice, rather than genuine economic hardship. Mr. Rios explains how some of these people make staggering amounts of money, and then spend to keep up appearances. But for most, the length of time an influencer actually influences is very brief. They think it will last forever and it doesn't. As a result, many current and former influencers are economically in way over their financial heads, let alone those who watch them.

Viewer comments could be blunt:

 • "Truly a case of 'Buying stuff you don't need with money you don't have to impress people you don't like.'"

• "What a world. Having $1.26 in your bank account and no debt makes you richer than 75% of the country."

• "Lots of people claim they're just living in the moment and don't understand the piper must be paid at some point."

• "The weirdest part of it is how they believe massive debt is a flex."

The incomparable Amy Dacyczyn, author of "Tightwad Gazette," once said that if you write down every single penny you spend, you can skip buying her book because you'll already know what you're spending your money on. This simple piece of advice seems to elude those mired down in YOLO-fueled spending.

Look, today's uncertain economy – with elevated prices for everything from food to property – is tough enough as it is. It's getting more difficult for ordinary Americans to scrape by on incomes that used to be adequate.The younger generation is facing an uphill battle when it comes to achieving the milestones their parents and grandparents were able to achieve. No one denies this.

But ... this level of self-inflicted financial sabotage is hard to grasp. Kudos to Mr. Rios for  attempting to "scare straight" those who need it.

The cost of existing

A couple of interesting articles caught my eye this week on the subject of what constitutes a livable income. One is entitled "America’s Feast-or-Famine Reality: When $100,000 Feels Like Poverty," and it's an analysis of a more in-depth discussion called "My Life Is a Lie" by Michael W. Green, which breaks down the "real" definition of America's middle class. (For the second article, skip the top section and scroll down to the heading "How a Broken Benchmark Quietly Broke America." That's where the interesting stuff begins.)

Apparently the definition of poverty in America is wildly outdated; and as a result, so is what defines the middle class. Using "conservative, national-average data," Green argues that a family of four (two working parents, two kids) must earn a minimum of $136,500 per year to qualify as middle class. This is the financial breakdown (read the article for the explanations):

• Childcare: $32,773

• Housing: $23,267

• Food: $14,717

• Transportation: $14,828

• Healthcare: $10,567

• Other essentials: $21,857

• Required net income: $118,009

• Add federal, state, and FICA taxes of roughly $18,500, and you arrive at a required gross income of $136,500. 

Phew.

I would imagine there are vast discrepancies between urban and rural costs for these categories, but they still seems crazy-expensive.

Since the vast majority of us don't make anywhere near $136,500 per year, the author makes some very compelling arguments for why those in true poverty (at or below $35,000/year) do better – because of government assistance programs – than those whose income exceeds the poverty threshold but doesn't reach "middle class" levels. Green terms this position the "Valley of Death" because it's so hard to escape or get ahead.

I strongly urge you to read the entire article – actually, both articles. Then feel free to share where you fall on this financial spectrum.

Neither poverty nor riches

As Don and I adjust to our reduced-spending lifestyle after my job loss in February, I read a passage in Proverbs 30 this past week that hit like a ton of bricks:

"Two things I ask of you, Lord;
    do not refuse me before I die:
Keep falsehood and lies far from me;
    give me neither poverty nor riches,
    but give me only my daily bread.
Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you
    and say, ‘Who is the Lord?’
Or I may become poor and steal,
    and so dishonor the name of my God."

That's what we have: Neither poverty nor riches. Who could ask for more? God is good.

The argument for buying ahead

Don and I have been engaged in several heavy-duty projects lately. Of course you know about the milking stall and calf pen:

Now we're consumed with getting the garden properly fenced against deer. We've foregone making the remaining garden beds in favor of getting the entire garden area covered with weed cloth, rocked in with gravel, braced by extravagantly tall poles, and netted in deer netting. (Don't worry, I'll put up a full blog post on the project when it's complete.)

But here's the thing: We're hardly spending any money during the process of working on these projects. Since my job loss in mid-February, we've cut back our discretionary spending by well over 90% and now purchase very little beyond groceries and our regular monthly bills. This is nothing unusual; over the 35 years of our marriage, frugality has been the norm, not the exception, so tightening our belts is second nature.

However during the last four years since moving to our current home, we were in a unique position with no debt and a modest-but-steady income. During those four years, we bought things.

Lots of things.

We bought things we knew we would need for future projects with the goal of transitioning our property into a homestead. Field fencing, horse panels, hardware cloth, drip irrigation supplies, hog panels, T-posts, cinder blocks, lumber, plywood, wire (various gauges), weed cloth, gravel, sand, rope, fasteners (screws, nails, bolts, hog rings, etc.), tools, deer netting, sheet metal, the 1500-gallon water tank ... the list goes on and on and on and on and on.

During those heady days, even the merest passing fancy could become reality. Don mentioned one day last year that a tool he'd love to have but didn't want to spend the money on was a T-post puller; I bought it for him for Christmas.

Well, those days are over and our spending is done. But you know what? Now we have the tools and supplies we need to bring endless projects to fruition with very little additional outlay. With our current project, for example (the garden), the only thing we've had to purchase was some hardware (hose clamps, notably) and an extra dump-truck load of gravel.

The peace of mind that comes from having all those things poised and ready to use – especially now, with our severely down-turned income – is hard to describe. We're not handicapped by a lack of money in accomplishing our homesteading goals and striding toward self-sufficiency.

Some might argue that we should have spent those four years saving our money or putting it into intelligent investments. Well, we did put some money in savings; and literally everything else was invested. It's just that our form of investment isn't what Wall Street has in mind for high yields.

Now those investments are paying big-time dividends.

Let's hear it for "polyworking"

When most people lose their jobs, they experience panic and worry. There are bills to pay, a mortgage to maintain, perhaps children to support through college or car payments to make. How will they survive without their employment? Frantically they update their résumé and commence the often-disheartening round of answering want ads or blasting out their credentials on the internet, begging someone – anyone – to employ them.

I get this. I totally get this. And for this reason, we've always endorsed having multiple income streams as protection against a job loss. We call this the "many irons in the fire" method of earning a living. The idea behind this is if one iron disappears, you have multiple other irons still sizzling. If you lose your job, you still have other income streams and won't be left destitute. You can then concentrate on honing those other streams into larger producers, either until such time as you find another "primary" job, or decide to permanently shift into having multiple part-time jobs.

This is a surprisingly common tactic with rural people, where jobs are often very low-paying. Over the years, we've met people with an astounding variety of "irons." We knew one fellow who operated heavy machinery, flew helicopters, and raised bison. We knew a woman who cleaned houses, sold crafts, and worked as a substitute teacher. Yet another woman sold produce at farmer's markets, babysat children for a working mother, and did desktop publishing projects for local businesses.

Laying multiple income irons in the fire is a matter of harvesting any and all experience, interests, potential, or opportunities, seizing any (ethical, legal) means to earn money, especially since you never know where it might lead. In our situation, we give preference to jobs we can do from home.

People have done everything from remote teaching (foreign languages? music?) to becoming an online travel agent to blog maintenance to moderating forums to operating ticket sales to freelance writing. Others have exploited skills or experience they've cultivated in the past. Waitressing, fixing computers, building crafts, driving trucks, tutoring children, carpentry, welding, painting, even home organization ... all can earn money.

Of course, these side gigs aren't likely to pay much. But income from numerous irons can get pretty darned close – $500 here, $1000 there, and pretty soon you're earning a decent collective paycheck.

Our philosophy is it's better to have ten income streams each paying $500 per month than a single income stream paying $5,000 per month. Losing one iron of the former is an annoyance. Losing the one single iron of the latter is devastating.

Anyway, all this is an introduction to an article I saw this morning entitled "'Polyworking' Is Gen-Z's Answer to Surviving a Fraught Job Market."

Ahh. The "many irons in the fire" approach we've endorsed for decades now has a snappy new name: Polyworking.

"This rising career trend, which involves juggling multiple jobs at once, has surged in popularity over the past few years, reshaping what it means to build a career in an era of instability and ambition," notes the article. "Nearly half [of Gen Zers] are working multiple jobs, with 47 percent clocking in at three or more gigs. And those numbers? They're still climbing. This isn't just about ambition; it's about adapting to survive in a world where one job is rarely enough. Unsurprisingly, the primary motivation is financial security. In a period of economic uncertainty, who wouldn't want to stockpile some extra cash each month?"

Well ... yeah. Of course. It just makes sense.

The "polyworking" people we've known over the years seldom worked multiple jobs for the joy of it, although of course some enjoyed the creative side of crafting or making cakes or whatever. Instead, people understood the importance on not relying purely on one income stream, only to be devastated when that stream disappeared.

The article does profile people doing work they love. One guy in New York City works as an indoor cycling teacher, dance choreographer, and freelance writer and author, and waxes eloquent about the joys of earning money by following his passions. He says, "The only way I'm able to handle working so many jobs at once is because I only work jobs I love."

The article mentions the need for balance to avoid burnout, which – trust me – is 100 percent true.

The article concludes with, "In the end, polyworking is less a trend than a recalibration of what modern work looks like. For some, it's about passion; for others, it's pure necessity. Either way, the message is clear: In today's economy, one job often just isn't enough – so people are making room for more."

What's old is new again. Let's hear it for "polyworking."

Am I the only one who thinks this is a bad idea?

Don saw a startling headline a couple days ago: "Burrito Now, Pay Later: DoorDash-Klarna Deal Feeds U.S. Debt Addiction."

In a nutshell, the food delivery service DoorDash, having teamed up with the online financial server Klarna, will "let cash-strapped consumers pay for restaurant food, groceries and other delivery orders in four equal, interest-free installments, or "at a more convenient time, such as a date that aligns with their paycheck schedules."

Am I the only one who thinks this is a bad idea?

This article sparked a lively discussion in the Lewis household. Older Daughter used to drive for DoorDash to earn extra money (this was during the pandemic lockdowns), so she's more familiar with the service than we are. But the one thing we kept noticing during the time she was driving was how much the price of a meal got jacked up as a result of the service (delivery + tip).

In some ways, this highlights a conundrum I've never understood. The article refers to "cash-strapped consumers." But if you're strapped for cash, why are you ordering food? If you can't afford a takeout meal, why are you ordering one? What is the financial benefit of spreading payment over four installments? What am I missing?

Maybe part of this era of DoorDash and other food delivery options has to do with a general aversion to cooking. Scratch cooking appears to be a dying art, and people have this big space in their house or apartment devoted to food preparation that never sees anyone prepare any food. Instead, people will order food and then be unable to afford to pay for it all at once.

Lest I sound too much like a curmudgeon, I understand there are times someone may be too tired or too sick to cook, in which case food delivery is nice for an occasional treat. The fact that such options don't exist in our rural area doesn't reflect the immense popularity of these services. But ordering food all the time? Yikes.

"Buy Now, Pay Later (BNPL) arrangements have surged in recent years," notes the article. "However, what began as a reasonable accommodation for large purchases like appliances and furniture has now metastasized to a point where Americans can finance Friday-night-pizza impulse-buys."

Apparently I'm not the only one who thinks this is a bad idea. The article notes, "For the financially disorganized or imminently insolvent, the interest-free option could prove to be a siren song that leaves their cash flow dashed against the metaphoric rocks of unexpectedly expensive burritos and Kung Pao chicken. ... Even for those who make timely payments, the interest-free option can have a destructive effect over time, by encouraging consumers to commit to spending more money than they would in the absence of the appealing, 'interest-free' enticement.

It continues: "The problem is these things start having a very pervasive and very negative influence on people who can't afford it,' Anish Nagpal, an University of Melbourne marketing professor who studies behavioral decision-making, told the Washington Post. "They just want something now, and they go into this spiral of debt and always trying to chase up and meet the payment requirement."

Don speculates that perhaps DoorDash – which boomed during the pandemic – might be experiencing hard times and looking for ways to boost their business. However this is pure speculation.

It strikes me that lessons in impulse control, scratch cooking, and money management would all be equally useful additions to our educational system.

Black belts in frugality

For obvious reasons, the subject of frugality has been very much on our minds lately. Now that we're facing our first full week without gainful employment, I thought it might be useful to describe our belt-tightening activities.

Our black belts in frugality didn't start last week, or last month, or last year. The foundation was laid way back in 1992 when Don and I gave up our well-paying city jobs and moved to a fixer-upper on four acres in southwestern Oregon. We went from a combined income of $70K (extremely decent for the time) to zip, zero, zilch, nada. Now that was an adjustment.

But we made it work and, needless to say, learned a lot.

As a financial exercise for our current belt-tightening, I looked up some budgeting advice, much of which involved creating spreadsheets for various categories. Almost all budgeting advice includes the need to be flexible (for when life throw you lemons) and the importance of tracking one's spending

One such article had some sensible advice, including splitting income between needs (50%), wants (30%), and savings (20%). Personally I'd drop that "wants" category by quite a bit, but then we're still in the adjustment phase, not maintenance phase.

This website listed 18 budgeting categories as follows:

• Housing (rent, mortgage, taxes, insurance, maintenance, HOA fees)

• Transportation (payments, gas, repairs, insurance, parking fees, registration, public transportation costs, etc.)

• Food (grocery costs, restaurant meals, take-out or delivery, coffee shop stops, alcohol, work lunches)

• Utilities (propane, electricity, water, cell phones, internet, trash)

• Medical/health care (insurance, prescriptions, eyeglasses, out-of-pocket costs)

• Additional insurance (life, disability, etc.)

• Taxes (state, federal)

• Education/childcare (N/A in our case)

• Debt payments (personal loans, student loans, credit cards)

• Retirement/savings (something, hopefully, we won't touch; but nor are we likely to be able to add to it for a while)

• Household items/supplies (cleaning supplies, paper goods, home decor, small appliances)

• Personal care (hair, nail, makeup, beauty items, massages, spa treatments)

• Clothing (including shoes, accessories, purses, backpacks, work clothing)

• Entertainment (gym memberships, cable TV, movies, events, bars, hobbies/crafts, streaming services)

• Travel (airfare, car rentals, tickets, hotels, souvenirs)

• Pets (food, medication, vet visits, accessories such as toys)

• Gifts/charitable giving (charity, church, holidays, special events such as birthdays, etc.)

• Miscellaneous (could include things like bank fees, "excessive personal spending," postage, etc.)

I've said it before: If we had to lose our major income stream, it couldn't have happened at a better time in our lives. However that's because we've spent years pre-positioning ourselves in some major, major ways.

Some of those major pre-positioning tactics include:

• Living in a low cost-of-living area. Most, though not all, rural areas fall into this category.

• Purchasing our home outright when we sold our last place. This decision meant we had to limit our options to what we could afford, which means our current home is not our "dream" home, but that's okay. We're in the process of making it into our dream home, and that's what counts.

• Years of whittling down expenses. Make no mistake, this takes practice; but the results can be astounding (as the budget analysis below will show).

• Purchasing in advance things we knew we would need. During times when money is less tight, buying up things you know you'll need not only fights against inflation, but provides a cushion when income drops. We don't have to buy coffee or tea, for example, because we have plenty. We bought a rototiller last fall (a very high-ticket item for us), and now it's ours whenever we need it. Remember when I bought a few extra pairs of prescription eyeglasses? Yeah, ask me how happy I am to have those in reserve (I am absolutely blind without my glasses). We pre-purchased building materials when we could afford it, so when it comes time to build a chicken coop, finish the garden infrastructure (including fencing and drip irrigation), construct a calf pen and milking stall, etc., the out-of-pocket expenses to complete these projects should be low.

• Getting out of debt. Oh heavens, the freedom that comes with being out of debt is indescribable. This isn't something that can be accomplished easily; but if you still have a dependable income, I recommend aggressively paying off debt as fast as humanly possible. And then – this is important – don't acquire more. It's one of the reasons we transitioned to an all-cash lifestyle so many years ago; it means we don't fill up our (single) credit card with frivolous purchases.

So anyway, this is how we handle the budget categories listed above:

• Housing (rent, mortgage, taxes, insurance, maintenance, HOA fees). We have no mortgage, and we budget for the two bills we'll get every December: property taxes and homeowner's insurance. Our property taxes went up (no surprise), and now we pay about $1000/year. Our homeowner's insurance nearly doubled to $2000/year. Since both these bills come due in December, we have time to save up for them.

• Transportation (payments, gas, repairs, insurance, parking fees, registration, public transportation costs, etc.). We own our older (used) cars outright, so insurance is low; however we often have to pay for repairs as a result of driving beaters. Since we work from home, we probably spend about $150/month on gasoline (driving to town for church, errands, etc.). Don did mention he plans to curtail those "quick trips" to the hardware store for this or that, and instead will plan and combine such trips with other errands to avoid using gas. This means we'll be more housebound, but we're homebodies anyway, so it's no biggee.

• Food (grocery costs, restaurant meals, take-out or delivery, coffee shop stops, alcohol, work lunches). Take-out or delivery food is unheard of in our area, so that's not even on our radar. We had been in the habit over the last couple years of enjoying a restaurant meal about once a month, so that stops. We don't frequent coffee shops, have work lunches, or buy alcohol. (Once my current box of chardonnay is gone, it's gone.) Our pantry is full, as is our chest freezer, so with the exception of fresh vegetables, our food expenses are low, especially if we cut back on frivolous things. Besides, this year we'll have a garden and fresh milk from our own cow.

• Utilities (propane, electricity, water, cell phones, internet, trash). We have no water or trash costs. Our water comes from our well, and our trash is covered by our property taxes (our area doesn't have pickups, but rather centralized dumpsters). Normally our electricity bill is about $110 a month, but it spikes to almost twice that in the winter, because we use a stock-tank heater to keep the livestock water ice-free. We don't have smart phones (just one "dumb phone" for roadside emergencies), and of course we have internet service. Bottom line, there isn't a lot we can cut from our utilities.

• Medical/health care (insurance, prescriptions, eyeglasses, out-of-pocket costs). This is probably the biggest question readers have about our frugal lifestyle. How do we handle health insurance? Don is now covered by Medicare, and I'm covered by Christian Healthcare Ministries (a medical sharing business). Our monthly out-of-pocket costs for both these programs comes to about $415 for the two of us. Neither of us are on any prescription medicines, except Don's low-dosage blood pressure medication, which costs about $200/year. We thank God that we're in good health.

• Additional insurance (life, disability, etc.). We have no additional insurance.

• Taxes (state, federal). We pay quarterly taxes since we're self-employed. I'm working on our taxes at present; what we pay in quarterlies may go down since we can document a large income drop.

• Education/childcare. Not applicable in our case.

• Debt payments (personal loans, student loans, credit cards). Not applicable in our case.

• Retirement/savings. Contributions to our retirement savings is obviously taking a hit, and hopefully we'll never be in a position where we have to tap into our retirement savings.

• Household items/supplies (cleaning supplies, paper goods, home decor, small appliances). Not applicable, especially when on a budget. We have enough cleaning supplies and toilet paper to last a while, and home decor isn't even on our radar.

• Personal care (hair, nail, makeup, beauty items, massages, spa treatments). Bwahahaha. Nope.

• Clothing (including shoes, accessories, purses, backpacks, work clothing). Again, nope. We have plenty of clothes and shoes. Besides, I hate clothes.

• Entertainment (gym memberships, cable TV, movies, events, bars, hobbies/crafts, streaming services). Not applicable in our case.

• Travel (airfare, car rentals, tickets, hotels, souvenirs). We travel very little, and will travel even less going forward. I haven't flown since 2019. Don and I took a couple of road trips last year, but that's not likely to happen this year. The one trip we do have budgeted this year is to drive down to southern California to visit my very elderly parents.

• Pets (food, medication, vet visits, accessories such as toys). We have a lot of dog food on hand, and of course we take Mr. Darcy to the vet when necessary. We'll also be needing some additional hay for the cows before long, which we'll purchase as needed. We are responsible for the pets and livestock under our care, and have no intention of neglecting them.

• Gifts/charitable giving (charity, church, holidays, special events such as birthdays, etc.). It was a tough decision, but we had to cut back on our charitable donations (church and other charities). We hope God understands. As for holidays and birthdays, etc., the only time we ever spend money for these events is at Christmas (and not much even then), so we'll see what this upcoming holiday is like.

• Miscellaneous (could include things like bank fees, "excessive personal spending," postage, etc.). We have no bank (or credit union, in our case) fees; "excessive personal spending" is out of the question; and we'll handle other miscellaneous expenses as they come up.

When we sat down for our "budget summit" after I got the news I was being laid off, we estimated our streamlined yearly expenses (including food, charitable giving, taxes, insurance, etc.) to be around $18K. We're confident we can bring in that amount through freelance writing, so at this point, we're optimistic we'll be able to continue.

As Don put it, our goal is to give ourselves bonus points for wherever we can cut costs. He's talking about taking me out for pizza on a Friday or Saturday night as a sort of last hurrah (we haven't been able to do this for years!), but then ... that's it. Future pizzas will be made at home.

So this explains our black belts in frugality. I welcome any thoughts on how we can cut more costs and trim our expenses even further.

How frugality can save a marriage

A small bit of backstory which most of my long-time readers already know.

When Don and I got married in 1990, we were living in Sacramento. We both had solid well-paying jobs and were living in a nice rental house. We gave up those jobs in early 1993 and rather impulsively moved to rural southwest Oregon, where we bought a fixer-upper on four acres.

The "excuse" for this drastic move was to send me to grad school (Southern Oregon University, where I earned my master's degree in 1995). At the time we moved, we knew we were at a rare now-or-never junction: No kids, no debt, a modest savings account. We were confident our work history would allow us to find decent-paying jobs in our new location.

We were wrong. Our income went from a combined $70K per year (very decent for the time) to zip, zero, zilch, nada. During our first five months in Oregon, while I was in school full-time and accruing debt via student loans, Don was desperately getting the woodcraft business started, which turned into our primary income for decades. By the end of my schooling, I was pregnant with Older Daughter, and becoming a mom took priority over the career I hoped to enter with my master's degree.

And so we struggled financially. We accrued credit-card debt through sheer desperation. We had student loans to pay. We had hospital bills (for the births of our two babies, plus the time Don cut the tip of a finger off on a power tool). I worked outside the home in tandem with Don's schedule (which usually meant nights) so we could trade off child care and avoid costly daycare.

Money struggles drive some couples apart, but it pulled us closer together. We realized the home woodcraft business was the key to allowing us to live rural (this was before remote work via the internet was an option), and we clung to that dream through thick and thin. We never wanted to move back to the city. Ever ever ever.

So we buckled down to make it work. We learned frugality to the nth degree. We learned to raise our babies on an absolute shoestring. Amy Dacyczyn, author of "The Tightwad Gazette" (picked up frugally at a thrift store), was my guru during these years.

It took a long time – especially on a woodcrafter's income, plus whatever part-time work I managed to pick up – but gradually we dug ourselves out of the debt hole we had dug ourselves into, and breathed the light of day once more. The experience left me with something of a pathological fear of owing money as well as a deep-seated hatred of credit cards, but there you go.

It was partly due to our hatred of credit cards as well as a few sour experiences with data breaches (see here and here) that we adopted an all-cash lifestyle over ten years ago, and never looked back. An all-cash lifestyle means we aren't shocked every month by a huge credit card bill. The only reason we use our credit card (yes, singular; we only have one) is to make occasional online purchases, and we also put our monthly expenses (health care, utilities, etc.) on it. And. Then. We. Pay. It. Off. Completely. Every. Month. Without. Fail.

Even today, when our financial position is blessedly more stable (though still modest), we discuss endlessly what we would need to do to tighten our belts and reduce our expenditures should our income fall. I think a little part of us is always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Anyway, the reason for this little backstory is because of a post I read yesterday, seeking advice. The post read as follows, edited slightly for clarity:

"I (male, 35) have been married to my wife (32) for five years, and we've been struggling financially for the past few months. I lost my job about three months ago, and while I've found part-time work, it doesn't pay nearly as much as before.

"We've had to cut back on a lot of things, but it feels like no matter what we do, we're still living paycheck to paycheck and even pulling from savings.

"Recently, my mom (65) came over to visit, and she noticed how stressed I was about the money situation. She offered some advice on how we could save money – things like cutting down on takeout, meal prepping to avoid buying groceries multiple times a week, and switching to cheaper brands. My mom has always been frugal, especially when she was raising me and my siblings on a tight budget.

"I thought it made sense, especially since we're really trying to save wherever we can. I asked if she was willing to go through our spending and show where we could cut down. My wife agreed with this.

"She made a whole spreadsheet about our spending, and we are spending wayyyyy too much on fun stuff. We don't need Starbucks every day and so on. It also became apparent that most of the fun spending was my wife's.

"To be honest, my wife didn't take the breakdown well and started arguing with my mom that her spreadsheet was wrong. She said that my mom's way of doing things is "outdated" and doesn't work for us. She doesn't want to give up buying organic produce, and she likes having variety in what we eat each week.

"I tried to explain that we need to make some sacrifices if we want to get out of this financial hole, but she kept insisting that things weren't as bad as I was making them out to be and that we just needed to "ride it out."

"My mom left at this point and we were still arguing, and she told me she can't give up her takeout. She also went on about my mom being wrong. That's when I lost my patience and said, "You're f***ing wrong. My mom is right. She managed to raise three kinds on one income, and we can't even cut back on groceries for a few months?"

"My wife got really upset, saying I am being a huge jerk for siding with my mom and that my mom is outdated. She's barely spoken to me since, and now I'm wondering if I went too far. But the way I see it, we need to be realistic about our situation, and my mom's advice could actually help us get back on track."

The poster later added: "She (the wife) works part-time and doesn't wish to go full-time. It's not good for her mental health. I'm still the primary earner even with part-time."

Don and I have discussed this post quite a bit. We remember those days of financial struggle and how we tightened our belts. Restaurant meals, takeout foods, and food delivery were absolutely out of the question during those days. We might splurge and get a pizza maybe once or twice a year; the rest of the time, we cooked at home. Cloth diapers, homemade baby food, second-hand everything – that was just the order of the day.

But here's the thing: We looked upon these frugal habits as a challenge, not deprivation. We raised our girls in a happy, stable home. We never thought of ourselves as "poor."

That's why I can't fathom the wife's attitude in the post above. Couples should work together to overcome difficulties and achieve goals, not continue to spend above one's income. By insisting on not changing her spending habits – especially if she's not willing to work full time (I saw no mention that they had children) – I don't see a happy outcome for this marriage ... which is a shame.

Frugality isn't rocket science. It's mostly a matter of an attitude adjustment ... and that includes ignoring the opinions of others or trying to keep up with the Joneses.

Frugality is such a fun, creative lifestyle that it's a pity the lack of interest in adopting thrift can cause marriages to break up.