In the past week or two, I've been seeing lots of messages about how to support local businesses during the Covid outbreak. A local business organization, Main Street Highland Park, went so far as to send out a list of all the local businesses operating within Highland Park, with information about their status (closed, limited operation, open) and how to contact them. The message urged residents to continue supporting local businesses by buying gift cards (which, as my Planet Money podcast explained last week, is basically like giving them an interest-free loan) or placing online and phone orders with companies that are able to fulfill them.
But, as it turns out, that's not so easy to do. When I looked at the list of businesses, many of them didn't even have websites. Of the ones that did, most didn't have any products for sale online or any information about how to purchase gift cards. And some are businesses we wouldn't even be able to redeem a gift card for if we were to buy one, like real estate agents or auto body shops. (We will certainly take our car to a local shop if it's damaged, but damaging it on purpose just to give them the business seems like going too far.)
So I decided to set myself a local shopping challenge for this week. The goal was simple: to buy something, anything, from as many different local businesses as I could. I wouldn't worry about the stores that are still operating normally (grocery stores, drugstores, gas stations), but would focus on those that have either closed their doors or severely curtailed their business as a result of the pandemic. And, since I also wanted my purchases to be ecofrugal, I would only buy things that either I or someone else could actually use. But within those parameters, anything was allowed. I wouldn't even worry about the prices.
I started with one local business that Brian and I have tried to give some business to in the past: The Moonladies, a joint venture operated by two sisters as Through the Moongate (gifts and knickknacks) and Over the Moon Toys. We'd actually made a point of stopping by there a couple of weeks ago, before the shutdown of all nonessential businesses, and buying ourselves a small board game called Joe Name It. Because the game is so simple, it ended up making a good test of whether it's possible to play a board game over Skype, with one physical copy of the game and everyone else just looking on over the interwebs. (Answer: It works sort of okay.) But we wanted to throw them some more business if we can.
So I started browsing through their game collection and found that they had several jigsaw puzzles, which I recalled had been a nice diversion for us during a period of repeated power outages. However, that wasn't really something we needed right now, with the power and Internet still working, and it would be a bit hard to work on one now anyway, with our two cats sure to jump up on the table and "help" all the time. So instead, I chose a bird-themed puzzle that I thought my sister's family would enjoy and sent it to them as a gift. She sent me back an email yesterday saying, "This was such a fun idea! Thank you!" and including a picture of their first day's progress.
Expanding this idea, I decided to send a present to my aunt and uncle in New York City as well. Living at Ground Zero of the Covid crisis in the US as they are, I figured they could use a little something to lift their spirits. So I selected a small box of Gianduja chocolates (a chocolate-hazelnut confection sort of like Nutella fudge) from our local chocolatier, Birnn, and sent it off to them. They received it today and sent back the message, "Delicious, and I'm not a big sweets fan. Thanks so much." So, once again, that killed two birds with one stone by supporting a local business and sending a little comfort to socially distanced relatives.
Unfortunately, those were the only stores on the list that seemed to be offering any products for sale online. But we found a way to throw a little business to some other local establishments nonetheless. For instance, on Friday, we stopped by the local Dunkin Donuts, which is still open for takeout orders (and has been sending me frequent emails to remind me of this fact). Since it was the last Friday of their "free doughnut day" promotion, which included a free doughnut with the purchase of any beverage, I got an iced coffee (it being a warm day) and a vanilla frosted doughnut, which we ate that evening for dessert. As Brian observed, maybe doughnuts just taste a lot better when you only eat one or two of them a year, but this one certainly seemed worth the calories. Sadly, I had to get my coffee in a disposable cup (no reusable cups during the health crisis), but at least it was recyclable.
Then, on our way home, we passed by Ellin Kon, a small Greek grocery that's still open (as a food store, it's allowed to keep operating) but keeping limited, unpredictable hours. This reminded me that we actually needed some olives for the upcoming Seder, since we follow the modern custom of adding an olive to our Seder plate to represent the hope for peace in Israel. (I partly chose to adopt this custom because Brian likes olives and seldom gets to eat them, so it's a treat for him as well.) So I popped in and picked up a small jar of green olives stuffed with garlic, which (since garlic is reputed to be good for you) can also represent the hope for a quick end to the pandemic. The helpful salesclerk even sprayed my hands with sanitizer afterward.
That's four local businesses, and I have a plan to add one more to the list by ordering takeout food tonight from one of our local restaurants. Our favorite one, Pad Thai, appears to be still open for takeout orders (as far as I can tell, they don't do delivery), so we'll try there first; if that doesn't work, maybe we'll take the opportunity to try the new Chinese place, Chef Tan. We haven't gone there before because reviews generally said the food was good but the service was terrible, so perhaps takeout would be the ideal way to experience it.
Sunday, March 29, 2020
Saturday, March 21, 2020
Gardeners' Holidays 2020: Planting Prep
The world has turned upside down.
Brian's workplace has closed its doors, sending all employees home to work (if they can). Our dance practices have been canceled. Concerts have been canceled. Our last role-playing game session took place online over Discord, with only disembodied voices in place of faces. The governor has "strongly recommended" a curfew of 8pm for all New Jersey residents. Pretty much the only time we leave the house is to go to the grocery store or to take a walk (maintaining a 6-foot distance, as best we can, from everyone else on the street). And who knows how much longer even that will be allowed.
The only thing that's remained normal in all of this is our garden. Because plants don't care about some virus that only affects humans; they're still going to sprout and bloom on their own schedule. So, oblivious to the ongoing pandemic, the seedlings we've started are poking their little heads up through the dirt; our rhubarb is growing and sending up blossom stalks; the asparagus bed has produced its first spear; the cherry bushes are blossoming earlier than they ever have before, and the plum trees don't look far behind; and the winter lettuce we left to overwinter in the garden is producing tiny, tender green leaves. And, of course, all the weeds are out in full force. And all of this requires attention from us if we want to have fresh veggies and fruit during this long, lonely, isolated summer.
So, this morning, Brian and I commemorated the start of spring with a trip to our favorite garden center. We were looking for three things in particular:
With the mulch, however, we hit a snag. Brian's plan was to order two yards of mulch to be delivered to our house, but it turns out we're no longer in the Belle Mead Co-Op's delivery area. So instead, we had to fall back on Plan B: buying half a yard and loading it ourselves, as we've done in the past. Fortunately, Brian had planned for this contingency, so we already had several large containers in the car, along with shovels and rakes and implements of destruction. We filled up two large garbage cans, plus about seven empty 40-pound birdseed bags. This, we hope, will be enough at least for the new flowerbed, plus some necessary patching of the layer of mulch on the honeyberries.
We emptied about half a bagful onto the honeyberries straightaway, then made room for the rest of the mulch in the shed by pulling out the patio furniture we'd stored for the winter and setting it back out on the patio. It's looking somewhat the worse for wear; the stain we applied to it in 2014, which was guaranteed to hold up for four years, is now well past that deadline and is looking decidedly patchy. Rather than reapply it, which was kind of a pain in the butt, we're thinking we might just try giving the whole set a coat of spray paint in some neutral color, which would be a much less fiddly job. Some of the chairs also need some tightening up, and the outdoor cushions we bought for them have developed some sort of greenish film. So at some point, we'll probably want to clean those so we can properly enjoy our patio come summertime.
While we were at it, we took care of several other springtime chores as well. Brian pulled out and set up our rain barrel and gave the plum trees their first dose of fungicide. He also cut down the dead stalks of last year's asparagus, and I pulled weeds out of their bed and around the honeyberries. I also went and nipped the heads off the newly formed blossoms on the rhubarb, which I'm sure is frustrating for the plants, but you have to do it if you want them to devote their energy to producing new, edible stalks.
All this, of course, was only the beginning of all the gardening we have to get through this spring. We still have 22 crops to get into the garden, a flowerbed to start (once the seedlings are big enough and the mature plants I ordered have arrived by mail), four potato buckets to plant, and lots more weeding and mulching to do. So I'll be keeping you updated throughout the spring on how those jobs go. If nothing else, it'll give you something to read about that isn't the coronavirus.
Brian's workplace has closed its doors, sending all employees home to work (if they can). Our dance practices have been canceled. Concerts have been canceled. Our last role-playing game session took place online over Discord, with only disembodied voices in place of faces. The governor has "strongly recommended" a curfew of 8pm for all New Jersey residents. Pretty much the only time we leave the house is to go to the grocery store or to take a walk (maintaining a 6-foot distance, as best we can, from everyone else on the street). And who knows how much longer even that will be allowed.
The only thing that's remained normal in all of this is our garden. Because plants don't care about some virus that only affects humans; they're still going to sprout and bloom on their own schedule. So, oblivious to the ongoing pandemic, the seedlings we've started are poking their little heads up through the dirt; our rhubarb is growing and sending up blossom stalks; the asparagus bed has produced its first spear; the cherry bushes are blossoming earlier than they ever have before, and the plum trees don't look far behind; and the winter lettuce we left to overwinter in the garden is producing tiny, tender green leaves. And, of course, all the weeds are out in full force. And all of this requires attention from us if we want to have fresh veggies and fruit during this long, lonely, isolated summer.
So, this morning, Brian and I commemorated the start of spring with a trip to our favorite garden center. We were looking for three things in particular:
- Another bottle of copper fungicide, since the one we have is almost empty, and we need to start spraying the plums regularly once the buds reach the "popcorn" stage.
- Some seed potatoes for Brian's planned potato-growing experiment. (We ended up not buying the "Pinto" potatoes from Fedco because the minimum quantity we could buy was way more than we needed for this first trial.)
- Some mulch for the new flowerbed we're planning for the front yard, as well as for our various trees, bushes, and other permanent plantings.
With the mulch, however, we hit a snag. Brian's plan was to order two yards of mulch to be delivered to our house, but it turns out we're no longer in the Belle Mead Co-Op's delivery area. So instead, we had to fall back on Plan B: buying half a yard and loading it ourselves, as we've done in the past. Fortunately, Brian had planned for this contingency, so we already had several large containers in the car, along with shovels and rakes and implements of destruction. We filled up two large garbage cans, plus about seven empty 40-pound birdseed bags. This, we hope, will be enough at least for the new flowerbed, plus some necessary patching of the layer of mulch on the honeyberries.
We emptied about half a bagful onto the honeyberries straightaway, then made room for the rest of the mulch in the shed by pulling out the patio furniture we'd stored for the winter and setting it back out on the patio. It's looking somewhat the worse for wear; the stain we applied to it in 2014, which was guaranteed to hold up for four years, is now well past that deadline and is looking decidedly patchy. Rather than reapply it, which was kind of a pain in the butt, we're thinking we might just try giving the whole set a coat of spray paint in some neutral color, which would be a much less fiddly job. Some of the chairs also need some tightening up, and the outdoor cushions we bought for them have developed some sort of greenish film. So at some point, we'll probably want to clean those so we can properly enjoy our patio come summertime.
While we were at it, we took care of several other springtime chores as well. Brian pulled out and set up our rain barrel and gave the plum trees their first dose of fungicide. He also cut down the dead stalks of last year's asparagus, and I pulled weeds out of their bed and around the honeyberries. I also went and nipped the heads off the newly formed blossoms on the rhubarb, which I'm sure is frustrating for the plants, but you have to do it if you want them to devote their energy to producing new, edible stalks.
All this, of course, was only the beginning of all the gardening we have to get through this spring. We still have 22 crops to get into the garden, a flowerbed to start (once the seedlings are big enough and the mature plants I ordered have arrived by mail), four potato buckets to plant, and lots more weeding and mulching to do. So I'll be keeping you updated throughout the spring on how those jobs go. If nothing else, it'll give you something to read about that isn't the coronavirus.
Sunday, March 15, 2020
Ecofrugality in the time of Covid
This past week, it's seemed like there was only one story in the news. It was all coronavirus, all the time. Every day brought new reports on the number of infections, the number of deaths, the precautions various countries and parts of this country have taken against it, the effect it's having on the economy, and the wildly conflicting messages coming out of Washington about how we're dealing with it. I've received emails from my doctor, my assemblywoman, my bank and other financial companies, my auto insurer, the local library, the town government, the local business association, grocery stores, and Starbucks, all telling me how they're responding to the virus and what they think I should do.
Brian and I were trying to live as normally as possible through all this, but it's become more and more difficult. On Tuesday, a member of our Morris dance team proposed "pausing" all practices of our group — which has only seven people in total, doing a form of dance that involves no physical contact — for "a month or so" until we "see how things play out." On Wednesday, Brian got sent home early and instructed to work from home until further notice. The same day, I got notice that the monthly meeting of the Citizens' Climate Lobby (a group pushing for the climate bill I wrote about back in January) was canceled, though we could still stream the monthly group call online. On Thursday, the Troubadour, a concert series I coordinate volunteers for, canceled its Friday concert. And today, I got word that all upcoming shows had been canceled through the end of April. Normal life, in short, has been suspended until further notice.
However, the first inkling I got that this outbreak would affect my ability to maintain my ecofrugal habits came a week ago, when we stopped into a Starbucks (which is still operating for now) and the barista told me I wouldn't be able to use my nifty reusable cup. Apparently, it's considered too much of a health risk for the staff to handle these. (I was at least able to use my own straw, since no one else had to touch that.)
This got me wondering how much the Covid-19 crisis, and the precautions being taken against it, would affect ecofrugal behavior for America in general. Will the virus reduce our carbon footprint or enlarge it? Make us more wasteful with money, or less so? And will any of those changes last once the outbreak is over (whenever that may be)?
Right now, the virus is definitely causing some changes in behavior — some good, others not so good. Fewer people are flying, which is definitely good for the climate. People are also avoiding mass transit, which could be either good or bad. If they're all going to the same places, but by car, that's bad, but if they're simply staying in more — working from home, socializing less — that's good for the climate (though not so great for our mental and emotional health). People buying and using lots of disposable face masks (which won't actually do them any good if they're not sick) is a definite downside. People doing more of their shopping online, including grocery shopping? Probably a good thing on the whole, since the increased packaging waste is offset by reduced emissions from transportation.
As for whether these changes will last, the San Francisco Chronicle hazards a guess that at least some of them will stick around for the long term. One expert they interviewed predicted that once people will get in the habit of buying online, they'll keep doing it (especially since that's a behavior that was already on the rise). Others speculated that telecommuting "may become our new normal" in jobs that allow for it, and "virtual conferences" could take the place of big annual conferences that people have to travel to by air so they can hobnob in person.
For us personally, this outbreak has probably made us a little bit more ecofrugal, on balance, than we were just a week ago. Brian is no longer driving to work, so that's lowered our carbon footprint a bit; we also won't be driving to any concerts at the Troubadour in the next month and a half, and may or may not be driving to Morris practice. (We agreed to cancel this week's practice and take it on a week-by-week basis after that.) We're mostly staying at home, except for a few shopping trips, which haven't really been more frequent than usual; in fact, we've deliberately avoided making a Costco run, since the place is probably even more of a madhouse than usual on account of all the panic buying people are doing right now. We're probably using a bit more electricity with two computers going instead of one, and with the TV running more nights than usual because we're stuck at home — but since all our electricity comes from renewable sources anyway, that hasn't increased our carbon footprint. And our other ecofrugal behaviors — gardening, hanging laundry, eating a low-carbon diet, and so forth — haven't been affected, and we have no reason to think they will be.
All the same, we're not eager to continue these new, more ecofrugal behaviors once the Powers That Be decide the danger is past. Shrinking our carbon footprint is all well and good, but being cut off from all face-to-face contact with friends and family is really too high a price to pay.
Brian and I were trying to live as normally as possible through all this, but it's become more and more difficult. On Tuesday, a member of our Morris dance team proposed "pausing" all practices of our group — which has only seven people in total, doing a form of dance that involves no physical contact — for "a month or so" until we "see how things play out." On Wednesday, Brian got sent home early and instructed to work from home until further notice. The same day, I got notice that the monthly meeting of the Citizens' Climate Lobby (a group pushing for the climate bill I wrote about back in January) was canceled, though we could still stream the monthly group call online. On Thursday, the Troubadour, a concert series I coordinate volunteers for, canceled its Friday concert. And today, I got word that all upcoming shows had been canceled through the end of April. Normal life, in short, has been suspended until further notice.
However, the first inkling I got that this outbreak would affect my ability to maintain my ecofrugal habits came a week ago, when we stopped into a Starbucks (which is still operating for now) and the barista told me I wouldn't be able to use my nifty reusable cup. Apparently, it's considered too much of a health risk for the staff to handle these. (I was at least able to use my own straw, since no one else had to touch that.)
This got me wondering how much the Covid-19 crisis, and the precautions being taken against it, would affect ecofrugal behavior for America in general. Will the virus reduce our carbon footprint or enlarge it? Make us more wasteful with money, or less so? And will any of those changes last once the outbreak is over (whenever that may be)?
Right now, the virus is definitely causing some changes in behavior — some good, others not so good. Fewer people are flying, which is definitely good for the climate. People are also avoiding mass transit, which could be either good or bad. If they're all going to the same places, but by car, that's bad, but if they're simply staying in more — working from home, socializing less — that's good for the climate (though not so great for our mental and emotional health). People buying and using lots of disposable face masks (which won't actually do them any good if they're not sick) is a definite downside. People doing more of their shopping online, including grocery shopping? Probably a good thing on the whole, since the increased packaging waste is offset by reduced emissions from transportation.
As for whether these changes will last, the San Francisco Chronicle hazards a guess that at least some of them will stick around for the long term. One expert they interviewed predicted that once people will get in the habit of buying online, they'll keep doing it (especially since that's a behavior that was already on the rise). Others speculated that telecommuting "may become our new normal" in jobs that allow for it, and "virtual conferences" could take the place of big annual conferences that people have to travel to by air so they can hobnob in person.
For us personally, this outbreak has probably made us a little bit more ecofrugal, on balance, than we were just a week ago. Brian is no longer driving to work, so that's lowered our carbon footprint a bit; we also won't be driving to any concerts at the Troubadour in the next month and a half, and may or may not be driving to Morris practice. (We agreed to cancel this week's practice and take it on a week-by-week basis after that.) We're mostly staying at home, except for a few shopping trips, which haven't really been more frequent than usual; in fact, we've deliberately avoided making a Costco run, since the place is probably even more of a madhouse than usual on account of all the panic buying people are doing right now. We're probably using a bit more electricity with two computers going instead of one, and with the TV running more nights than usual because we're stuck at home — but since all our electricity comes from renewable sources anyway, that hasn't increased our carbon footprint. And our other ecofrugal behaviors — gardening, hanging laundry, eating a low-carbon diet, and so forth — haven't been affected, and we have no reason to think they will be.
All the same, we're not eager to continue these new, more ecofrugal behaviors once the Powers That Be decide the danger is past. Shrinking our carbon footprint is all well and good, but being cut off from all face-to-face contact with friends and family is really too high a price to pay.
Tuesday, March 10, 2020
Money Crashers: 8 Best Kid-Friendly Family Restaurants – How Affordable Are They?
Brian and I have reached that stage of life where most of our friends have kids. Some of them have quite young kids. And when we go out to eat with them, we have to find a place that's kid-friendly — ideally, without being too adult-unfriendly.
My latest Money Crashers article is all about how to handle this situation. It lists the eight chain family restaurants that consistently get the highest marks for food quality, affordability, and menu options that make both kids and adults happy. They have locations across the country, their prices are reasonable, and most of them offer a decent array of choices for people those on special diets like vegetarian, vegan, low-carb, or gluten-free. Plus, many of them provide special perks for kids, like crayons and placemats with activities.
If you have a family outing coming up any time soon — with your own kids, or with the kids of a friend — this list should come in handy.
8 Best Kid-Friendly Family Restaurants – How Affordable Are They?
My latest Money Crashers article is all about how to handle this situation. It lists the eight chain family restaurants that consistently get the highest marks for food quality, affordability, and menu options that make both kids and adults happy. They have locations across the country, their prices are reasonable, and most of them offer a decent array of choices for people those on special diets like vegetarian, vegan, low-carb, or gluten-free. Plus, many of them provide special perks for kids, like crayons and placemats with activities.
If you have a family outing coming up any time soon — with your own kids, or with the kids of a friend — this list should come in handy.
8 Best Kid-Friendly Family Restaurants – How Affordable Are They?
Saturday, March 7, 2020
Vegan Recipe of the Month: Black Bean Butternut Burrito
This dish is not actually what I intended to post as my Vegan Recipe of the Month for March. Brian and I have been experimenting with marinated mushrooms as a bacon substitute, and so I was planning to make this mushroom bacon recipe from It Doesn't Taste Like Chicken and share the results with you. We've already tried using the same marinade on enoki mushrooms, and the flavor was indeed remarkably bacon-like, but the texture wasn't quite right. The skinny enoki mushrooms came out too thin and crisp, without the meatiness of real bacon. So our plan was to buy some white button mushrooms on our Thursday grocery run and then try the same recipe with those.
However, before we could head out on that shopping trip, we needed to put together a quick dinner with the ingredients we already had on hand. And Brian, finding himself contemplating a leftover chunk of butternut squash, some home-cooked black beans, an avocado, and a few scallions, decided to experiment.
Now, we had already tried a recipe (I believe it was a chili) that combined black beans with sweet potato, so we knew that pairing worked reasonably well. And Brian also knew that butternut squash is not too dissimilar to sweet potato in flavor and texture (not to mention color and nutritional profile). So he figured, well, this can't go too wrong, and he diced up the squash and sauteed it together with the beans, two scallions, and a little garlic powder and salt. Then he whipped up a simple guacamole from the avocado, the remaining scallion, and some salt and lime juice, and served the two things up together with flour tortillas and lettuce.
For an improvised, last-minute meal, this was surprisingly tasty. The light, firm, faintly sweet butternut squash balanced out the starchiness of the black beans even better than the sweet potato had, and the onion and garlic added umami (savoriness). Rolled up in a chewy tortilla with crisp green lettuce and buttery-soft guacamole, it offered a delightful blend of flavors and textures. Brian knew he had a hit on his hands when he asked me the next morning whether I would like the leftovers for lunch (since there wasn't enough for both of us), and I gave an enthusiastic yes. I felt a little bad about sending him off to work with only peanut-butter sandwiches, but he said he was just as happy either way, so I guess he didn't love it quite as much as I did.
Nonetheless, this recipe was successful enough and simple enough that I feel confident we'll be making it again. If you'd like to do the same, here's a rough approximation of the recipe, which I'm calling by the highly alliterative name
However, before we could head out on that shopping trip, we needed to put together a quick dinner with the ingredients we already had on hand. And Brian, finding himself contemplating a leftover chunk of butternut squash, some home-cooked black beans, an avocado, and a few scallions, decided to experiment.
Now, we had already tried a recipe (I believe it was a chili) that combined black beans with sweet potato, so we knew that pairing worked reasonably well. And Brian also knew that butternut squash is not too dissimilar to sweet potato in flavor and texture (not to mention color and nutritional profile). So he figured, well, this can't go too wrong, and he diced up the squash and sauteed it together with the beans, two scallions, and a little garlic powder and salt. Then he whipped up a simple guacamole from the avocado, the remaining scallion, and some salt and lime juice, and served the two things up together with flour tortillas and lettuce.
For an improvised, last-minute meal, this was surprisingly tasty. The light, firm, faintly sweet butternut squash balanced out the starchiness of the black beans even better than the sweet potato had, and the onion and garlic added umami (savoriness). Rolled up in a chewy tortilla with crisp green lettuce and buttery-soft guacamole, it offered a delightful blend of flavors and textures. Brian knew he had a hit on his hands when he asked me the next morning whether I would like the leftovers for lunch (since there wasn't enough for both of us), and I gave an enthusiastic yes. I felt a little bad about sending him off to work with only peanut-butter sandwiches, but he said he was just as happy either way, so I guess he didn't love it quite as much as I did.
Nonetheless, this recipe was successful enough and simple enough that I feel confident we'll be making it again. If you'd like to do the same, here's a rough approximation of the recipe, which I'm calling by the highly alliterative name
BRIAN'S BLACK BEAN BUTTERNUT BURRITOS
Dice about 4-6 oz. butternut squash into pieces about 1 cm square. Saute in olive oil with roughly 1 1/2 cups cooked black beans (or 1 can black beans, drained and rinsed), 2 sliced scallions, 1/4 tsp. garlic powder (or about 2 cloves minced fresh garlic, which we were all out of), and 1/2 tsp. salt (leave out if you're using salted canned beans). Cook until the squash is tender.
Prepare guacamole by dicing 1 avocado and combining with 1 sliced scallion, 1/4 tsp. salt, and 1 tsp. lime juice. Serve the beans on flour tortillas with guacamole and red or green leaf lettuce.
Money Crashers: 3 new articles
In the past week, Money Crashers has popped up three articles of mine that are only tangentially related to ecofrugality. So I've decided to just cover them all in one post here, with a brief rundown of what they're about and how they could help you put, or keep, more money in your pocket. (There's also a fourth one which should be popping up shortly that's much more along ecofrugal lines. I'll give that one its own post.)
The first piece is for those who are considering going back to college as adults, but can't figure out how to afford it. It explains how many of the financial aid programs available to "traditional" (i.e., young) students are also available for adults, including grants, scholarships, loans, and 529 plans. And it explores other options adult students have that aren't available to teens, such as targeted scholarships for older students, tuition benefits from employers, credit for past work experience, and discounted college classes for senior citizens. Finally, I discuss online learning and how it could help you earn your degree at a lower cost.
How to Afford & Pay for College as an Older Adult
The second article is for everyone who has ever struggled to stretch their money until the end of the month (which includes more than 40% of Americans, according to the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau). These are the people who are most likely to take out costly payday loans, the dangers of which I've outlined in a previous article. In this piece, I discuss a modern alternative: apps that can give you access to the money you've already earned at work without having to wait for payday. They're not a long-term fix for an ongoing budget shortfall, but they can give you the cash you need to get by while you whip your budget into shape.
9 Best Paycheck Advance Apps to Help You Make It to Payday
And lastly, a piece about how you can turn all that time you spend on the Internet into a money-making opportunity. I discuss a whole host of ways to earn extra cash online, from the quick and easy (picking up a few bucks' worth of cash back for your online shopping, or boosting your return from savings and investment) to the complex and lucrative (selling products, services, and content online). With these techniques, you can use the Internet as anything from a piggy bank you dip into for extra cash to your primary source of income.
5 Ways to Make Extra Money Online (on the Side)
The first piece is for those who are considering going back to college as adults, but can't figure out how to afford it. It explains how many of the financial aid programs available to "traditional" (i.e., young) students are also available for adults, including grants, scholarships, loans, and 529 plans. And it explores other options adult students have that aren't available to teens, such as targeted scholarships for older students, tuition benefits from employers, credit for past work experience, and discounted college classes for senior citizens. Finally, I discuss online learning and how it could help you earn your degree at a lower cost.
How to Afford & Pay for College as an Older Adult
The second article is for everyone who has ever struggled to stretch their money until the end of the month (which includes more than 40% of Americans, according to the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau). These are the people who are most likely to take out costly payday loans, the dangers of which I've outlined in a previous article. In this piece, I discuss a modern alternative: apps that can give you access to the money you've already earned at work without having to wait for payday. They're not a long-term fix for an ongoing budget shortfall, but they can give you the cash you need to get by while you whip your budget into shape.
9 Best Paycheck Advance Apps to Help You Make It to Payday
And lastly, a piece about how you can turn all that time you spend on the Internet into a money-making opportunity. I discuss a whole host of ways to earn extra cash online, from the quick and easy (picking up a few bucks' worth of cash back for your online shopping, or boosting your return from savings and investment) to the complex and lucrative (selling products, services, and content online). With these techniques, you can use the Internet as anything from a piggy bank you dip into for extra cash to your primary source of income.
5 Ways to Make Extra Money Online (on the Side)
Sunday, March 1, 2020
How our budget beats (and fails to beat) the averages
Brian and I have never kept a household budget, per se. We rigorously track all our household expenses, and each month I tally them up to figure out how much we've spent in different categories—house, food, car, and so on—but we've never set firm limits on how much we can spend in any given category. I just keep an eye on our spending, and if it looks like it's getting out of hand in any area, we look for ways to rein it in.
For the most part, I use these spending numbers only for internal comparisons: to compare what we've spent this month in a given category to what we spent last month, or last year. If it's lower, I pat myself on the back; if it's higher, I try to figure out why. But I seldom bother to compare what we spend with what other Americans spend.
Recently, though, an article on Money Talks News (MTN) called these numbers to my attention. Entitled "11 Expenses to Cut Now If You Want to Retire Early," it outlined how much the average U.S. household spends in various categories—housing, car, groceries, etc.—and then talked about ways to cut each of these expenses so you can reach financial independence more quickly. Since this is a goal we're shooting for, I went through the article and found that in most cases—but not all—we're already spending well below the average in these categories. So I thought it might be interesting to show how our budget compares to the average and how we're managing to keep it lower (or, in the few cases where it's higher, what's keeping it high). Instead of a collection of general tips like the MTN article, it'll be an actual case history of what one family did and how it worked (or didn't).
So how did we manage to spend more than the average family while living in a relatively small, paid-off home? Well, a few different ways. First of all, we live in New Jersey, which holds the dubious honor of having the highest property taxes in the country. And our particular area's tax rate is above average even for New Jersey, so we pay close to the median in tax each year even though the value of our home is significantly below the median. And on top of that, we've spent around $11,300 on "home maintenance/furnishing" in the past three years, for an average of around $3,780 per year (though that included some large one-time expenses in the past three years, such as a new roof and water heater).
So what are we doing wrong? Mostly, just living in New Jersey, which happens to be an expensive place to live. When you compare our average annual shelter costs with the average for the Northeast, which you can see in this table from the BLS, we're well below the average. If the statistics were broken out to the state level, we'd probably be still further below the average for New Jersey.
Would any of MTN's tips on reducing housing costs help us? Well, maybe, but they're not really practical for us. Their first idea, "getting a roommate" (or in our case, a boarder) would require some retrofitting of the house, which would take a while to pay for itself, and it wouldn't be a very comfortable situation for us. "Downsizing" (which in our case would mean downgrading from a house to an apartment) and "moving in with relatives" are sacrifices we're definitely not prepared to make. And as for using our home to make money via Airbnb, when I searched listings for single-room rentals in our area, I found the going rate was around $30 per night. If we managed to rent out a room for one weekend a month—an optimistic assumption—we could only make around $720 per year, which wouldn't make much of a difference.
Fortunately, what we spend on housing by virtue of where we live, we make up for in other ways. Such as...
First of all, there are only two of us. The average number of people in a household (or "consumer unit"), according to the BLS, is two and a half, so you would expect our spending to be about 20 percent below average. But when you look at the average "married couple only" household (shown on this table), the average spending for "food at home" doesn't drop; it jumps to $5,000 per year. So compared to other married-couple households, we're actually spending less than 55 percent of the average.
So it's not the size of our household that's making the difference. Instead, it's probably what we eat. As I discovered when we did the Reverse SNAP Challenge five years ago, it's actually pretty easy to eat on a SNAP budget if you cook from scratch and eat very little meat. Other habits that proved very helpful were keeping a garden and doing our shopping at multiple stores, so we can get the best prices on all the different foods we buy. Of course, that only works if you happen to have multiple stores in your area, but even if you have only a couple, keeping a price book so you know which items to buy at Aldi and which to buy at Walmart will help you use your dollars as wisely as possible. And it will probably help you more than MTN's grocery-saving tips, which include using coupons (a strategy that usually doesn't save us much, though there are a few notable exceptions), buying bread at grocery outlets (not as cheap as baking your own), and storing your food so it won't spoil (a good idea, but don't most people do this already?).
By contrast, our annual expense for auto purchases is...well, I can't say how much it is, because we've only bought one new car in the 15 years we've been married, and it's only 9 years old, so I can't say how many years we'll have it. But if you consider that our last car was over 15 years old when it finally bit the dust (and that it died an untimely death in a crash, rather than being put out to pasture in its old age), it's certainly reasonable to assume that the one we have now will last us at least 15 years. And since we paid around $16,000 for it (cash), that means our per-year expense for owning it works out to about $1,066. If the car lasts more than 15 years, it will be even lower than that.
In this particular case, MTN's advice for saving is exactly the same as ours: buy the best car for you, then make it last as long as possible. Their advice to "consider buying a late-model used car" is also sound, though that word "consider" is important; when we compared the cost per year for a late-model Honda Fit to the new one we actually bought, we found that it wasn't actually any cheaper, and it didn't have as many safety features as the new one. So do the math before you decide.
I realize not every family is lucky enough to have a member who's good at cooking and enjoys doing it. However, I maintain that anybody can cook, even if they don't love doing it, and can get better at it (and possibly enjoy it more) the more they practice. So here, again, my best advice for saving money on dining out coincides with MTN: do it less. And when you do eat out, make it count and go for something you couldn't make just as well at home.
5. Gas and Oil
That's for your car, not for your house. The average household, according to MTN, spent $2,109 on these in 2018, and the average married couple, according to the BLS, spent $2,236. I don't have a record of how much we spent on motor oil for our car, since our mechanic changes it for us and it's lumped in under "maintenance." However, I can say our expense for gasoline was $676, roughly one-third of the average.
Why so low? Two reasons: we only have one car between us, and we don't use it for everything. Brian rides his bike to work most of the time in the warm months, so the car sometimes sits unused for a week at a time. We still put a good number of miles on it — about 11,000 in the past year — what with our annual jaunt out to Indianapolis, shorter trips to visit friends in Virginia, and shorter trips around New Jersey for dance practice, concerts, errands, and such. But we prefer to walk or bike whenever we can.
One thing we don't do, though, is to use public transit instead as MTN suggests. In the first place, we don't really have any that could get us to all the places we need to go; our transit system here is mostly designed to funnel people into and out of New York and Philadelphia, not to get them from one place in New Jersey to another. And in the second place, a typical train trip generally costs quite a bit more than the gas required to drive it. If we could afford to give up a car entirely by using transit, that might be cheaper, but as we have a car, it's cheaper to use it than to take a bus or train even when one exists to take. (And sadly, according to CityLab, the transit situation in most U.S. cities is just as bad, if not worse. So for most car owners, MTN's advice simply isn't practical.)
6. Clothing and Footwear
This is another area where we're way below average. The average household spent $1,866 on these in 2018; last year, we spent $421. And that was an above-average year for us, including two new pairs of shoes for me to replace ones that had worn out.
How do we keep this cost low? First of all, by disregarding fashion almost completely. As a general rule, we buy new clothes only to replace old clothes that have worn out or are about to wear out (and only after at least attempting to repair them first). Pretty much everything we own was never particularly in fashion to begin with, so it doesn't matter if it falls out.
And second, we do much of our clothes shopping, maybe even most of it, at thrift stores. Our local one isn't very big, but it's cheap, and by checking there frequently, I can manage to find a surprising number of items that fit and are useful. And we always make a point of hitting the Indy-area Goodwill stores when we're in Indiana over Christmas. We can't get everything secondhand; shoes and jeans for me, in particular, aren't commonly available in my size. But we're able to keep our wardrobe fully stocked mainly with used clothes, which also happens to be the main tip recommended by MTN.
7. Cell Phone Service
This is probably the one expense that makes us look more like we belong on an episode of Extreme Cheapskates than any other. The average US household spends $1,188 per year on cell phones; we spend roughly $161. Although I finally took the plunge and bought myself a smartphone after my purse was stolen in 2018, I only use the most bare-bones plan for it that I could get from Red Pocket: $10 a month (plus tax) for 500 minutes, 500 texts, and 500 MB of data, none of which I've ever come anywhere close to using up. And Brian still has our old feature phone with its $3-per-month (plus tax) prepaid plan from T-Mobile.
Admittedly, this may not be quite a fair comparison, since many families these days are using their cell phones as their primary phones, while we still pay $40 a month for a landline. But our combo of a landline plus minimal cell phone use is still significantly cheaper than the average cost for cell phones alone, and it has the added advantage of ensuring that we can't ever be those people who can't go five minutes without checking their phones.
8. Car Insurance
Not much savings here. The average household's annual expense for car insurance is $976, while ours is around $750. And that's for only a single car, with low-to-average mileage. We already follow MTN's advice for keeping the cost down by shopping around yearly; it's just that there's only so low you can go in New Jersey, even with one car that's nine years old and a clean driving record. Just as it's an expensive place to live, it's an expensive place to drive. Probably, in both cases, because there are so many other people doing the same.
9. Alcoholic Drinks
On our expense spreadsheet, alcoholic drinks get lumped in with groceries, so I can't tell at a glance just how much we spend on them each year. However, I can do a quick back-of-the-envelope calculation. We buy the cheap tawny port from Trader Joe's for six bucks a bottle whenever it's available, and it takes Brian about two weeks to go through a bottle, so that works out to around $156 a year. We can't always get the cheap stuff, so occasionally we fill in with a more expensive, though never really expensive bottle — maybe fifteen to twenty bucks — and we occasionally pick up a bottle of bottom-shelf gin or rum, or a liqueur of some kind. (The cheap vodka we buy to make vanilla extract doesn't really count, since it isn't a drink but a food ingredient.)
So, at a rough estimation, you might say we spend around $200 a year on alcohol — less than half the $583 spent by the average household. We've tried MTN's tip of shopping for alcohol at warehouse stores, but Costco doesn't seem to carry tawny port, and their other liquors, though undoubtedly a good value, are higher-quality than we actually need. So, Trader Joe's it is.
10. Medicines
This category, which includes "prescription drugs, over-the-counter drugs, and vitamins," costs the average household $483 a year. Presumably that's the amount they pay out of pocket, not counting any costs that are covered by insurance. I don't know exactly how much we pay for this category, since it's all lumped in under "health care" on my expense sheet, but at a guess, I'd say it's pretty close to this average. Brian only takes one medicine every day, but I require an assortment of meds and supplements to keep me in fighting trim, and while none of them costs all that much, it all adds up. MTN's advice to use a prescription discount card wouldn't really help us, since insurance already picks up most of the cost of our prescriptions, and comparing prices for OTC drugs (and buying generic when possible) is something we do already. Oh well.
11. Cleaning Supplies
OK, we're going out with a bang on this category. The average household apparently spends $184 per year on cleaning supplies, which includes laundry detergent. MTN tells readers "it’s relatively easy and inexpensive to make" your own detergent, but that's only true if by "relatively" they mean relative to making, say, your own clothes. Compared to buying detergent at the store, making your own is neither easy nor particularly inexpensive, as I calculated back in 2013. It might not save you any money at all, and it's certainly a much bigger hassle to make and use.
We, on the other hand, have been using the same big bottle of Kirkland Signature Ultra Clean detergent for over a year, and we still have maybe a quarter of it left. (In theory, the bottle is only good for 140 loads and should have been gone long ago, but we never use close to a full capful, and our clothes don't seem to be noticeably less clean as a result.) If we assume it will last us a total of 18 months, that works out to about $10 per year. The other commercial cleaning products we buy are:
So, in total, we're probably spending around $36 a year in this category, less than 20 percent of the average. And it's as simple as (1) sticking to vinegar and water whenever we can, and (2) not using more of the commercial cleaners than we absolutely have to.
So there you have it: why we spend more than average in some categories, and how we spend less in others to make up for it. Of course, I realize that your situation may be completely different from ours, so maybe some of the things that work for us won't work for you. For instance, if you live way out in the boonies, and/or you have several kids, getting by with one car might not be practical for your family. But at least some of the savings tricks that work for our family — like using homemade cleaners, rarely eating out, and buying new clothes only when old ones wear out — can almost certainly work for yours. And then, too, you may be able to save in ways that we can't right now, like living in a small apartment or using public transportation exclusively.
It all comes back to what I've always maintained: there's no right way or wrong way to be ecofrugal. It's all about finding what works for you. (Of course, if you know of any other great savings tips applicable to everyone that we're not currently using, I'm always eager to learn more!)
For the most part, I use these spending numbers only for internal comparisons: to compare what we've spent this month in a given category to what we spent last month, or last year. If it's lower, I pat myself on the back; if it's higher, I try to figure out why. But I seldom bother to compare what we spend with what other Americans spend.
Recently, though, an article on Money Talks News (MTN) called these numbers to my attention. Entitled "11 Expenses to Cut Now If You Want to Retire Early," it outlined how much the average U.S. household spends in various categories—housing, car, groceries, etc.—and then talked about ways to cut each of these expenses so you can reach financial independence more quickly. Since this is a goal we're shooting for, I went through the article and found that in most cases—but not all—we're already spending well below the average in these categories. So I thought it might be interesting to show how our budget compares to the average and how we're managing to keep it lower (or, in the few cases where it's higher, what's keeping it high). Instead of a collection of general tips like the MTN article, it'll be an actual case history of what one family did and how it worked (or didn't).
1. Shelter
According to MTN, the average U.S. household spent $11,747 on "shelter" in 2018. Consulting the Bureau of Labor Statistics (BLS) report from which they took the data, I found that "shelter" is defined to include rent, property taxes, mortgage payments, maintenance and repairs, and insurance. Since we don't pay rent and have already paid off our mortgage, I guessed that our housing expenses would be well below this average, but when I checked our actual expenses, I found they were a bit above it. Adding up our property tax, insurance, and "home maintenance/furnishing" expenses (averaged over the past three years), we spent more than $11,900.So how did we manage to spend more than the average family while living in a relatively small, paid-off home? Well, a few different ways. First of all, we live in New Jersey, which holds the dubious honor of having the highest property taxes in the country. And our particular area's tax rate is above average even for New Jersey, so we pay close to the median in tax each year even though the value of our home is significantly below the median. And on top of that, we've spent around $11,300 on "home maintenance/furnishing" in the past three years, for an average of around $3,780 per year (though that included some large one-time expenses in the past three years, such as a new roof and water heater).
So what are we doing wrong? Mostly, just living in New Jersey, which happens to be an expensive place to live. When you compare our average annual shelter costs with the average for the Northeast, which you can see in this table from the BLS, we're well below the average. If the statistics were broken out to the state level, we'd probably be still further below the average for New Jersey.
Would any of MTN's tips on reducing housing costs help us? Well, maybe, but they're not really practical for us. Their first idea, "getting a roommate" (or in our case, a boarder) would require some retrofitting of the house, which would take a while to pay for itself, and it wouldn't be a very comfortable situation for us. "Downsizing" (which in our case would mean downgrading from a house to an apartment) and "moving in with relatives" are sacrifices we're definitely not prepared to make. And as for using our home to make money via Airbnb, when I searched listings for single-room rentals in our area, I found the going rate was around $30 per night. If we managed to rent out a room for one weekend a month—an optimistic assumption—we could only make around $720 per year, which wouldn't make much of a difference.
Fortunately, what we spend on housing by virtue of where we live, we make up for in other ways. Such as...
2. Groceries
The average U.S. household's spending on groceries was $4,646. Ours was about $2,600—less than 60 percent of the average. This is one area in which we're clearly doing well, but how come?First of all, there are only two of us. The average number of people in a household (or "consumer unit"), according to the BLS, is two and a half, so you would expect our spending to be about 20 percent below average. But when you look at the average "married couple only" household (shown on this table), the average spending for "food at home" doesn't drop; it jumps to $5,000 per year. So compared to other married-couple households, we're actually spending less than 55 percent of the average.
So it's not the size of our household that's making the difference. Instead, it's probably what we eat. As I discovered when we did the Reverse SNAP Challenge five years ago, it's actually pretty easy to eat on a SNAP budget if you cook from scratch and eat very little meat. Other habits that proved very helpful were keeping a garden and doing our shopping at multiple stores, so we can get the best prices on all the different foods we buy. Of course, that only works if you happen to have multiple stores in your area, but even if you have only a couple, keeping a price book so you know which items to buy at Aldi and which to buy at Walmart will help you use your dollars as wisely as possible. And it will probably help you more than MTN's grocery-saving tips, which include using coupons (a strategy that usually doesn't save us much, though there are a few notable exceptions), buying bread at grocery outlets (not as cheap as baking your own), and storing your food so it won't spoil (a good idea, but don't most people do this already?).
3. Vehicle Purchases
In 2018, MTN says, the average household spent $3,975 on "vehicle purchases." That's not the total amount spent to own a car, including gas, insurance, repairs, and so on; that's just the amount spent to buy the car.By contrast, our annual expense for auto purchases is...well, I can't say how much it is, because we've only bought one new car in the 15 years we've been married, and it's only 9 years old, so I can't say how many years we'll have it. But if you consider that our last car was over 15 years old when it finally bit the dust (and that it died an untimely death in a crash, rather than being put out to pasture in its old age), it's certainly reasonable to assume that the one we have now will last us at least 15 years. And since we paid around $16,000 for it (cash), that means our per-year expense for owning it works out to about $1,066. If the car lasts more than 15 years, it will be even lower than that.
In this particular case, MTN's advice for saving is exactly the same as ours: buy the best car for you, then make it last as long as possible. Their advice to "consider buying a late-model used car" is also sound, though that word "consider" is important; when we compared the cost per year for a late-model Honda Fit to the new one we actually bought, we found that it wasn't actually any cheaper, and it didn't have as many safety features as the new one. So do the math before you decide.
4. Eating Out
The average family's expenditure for dining out was $3,459 in 2018. (For married-couple households, once again, it was actually higher than this average, at $4,065. Maybe families with kids just don't have the time to dine out very often.) Our expense for dining out was a much lower $424 per year, and for a very obvious reason: We hardly ever do it. Brian is a good cook and enjoys it, so we only eat out when we have a particular reason: to celebrate a birthday or anniversary, to entertain guests, because we're going to be on the road or otherwise away from home at dinnertime, because we have a craving for a specific food we can't make at home (though the number of such foods has diminished), or, most rarely of all, because neither of us has the energy to cook. So most of our "dining out" expenses are actually for smaller treats, like pizza at a game party or coffee at Starbucks, rather than an entire meal.I realize not every family is lucky enough to have a member who's good at cooking and enjoys doing it. However, I maintain that anybody can cook, even if they don't love doing it, and can get better at it (and possibly enjoy it more) the more they practice. So here, again, my best advice for saving money on dining out coincides with MTN: do it less. And when you do eat out, make it count and go for something you couldn't make just as well at home.
5. Gas and Oil
That's for your car, not for your house. The average household, according to MTN, spent $2,109 on these in 2018, and the average married couple, according to the BLS, spent $2,236. I don't have a record of how much we spent on motor oil for our car, since our mechanic changes it for us and it's lumped in under "maintenance." However, I can say our expense for gasoline was $676, roughly one-third of the average.
Why so low? Two reasons: we only have one car between us, and we don't use it for everything. Brian rides his bike to work most of the time in the warm months, so the car sometimes sits unused for a week at a time. We still put a good number of miles on it — about 11,000 in the past year — what with our annual jaunt out to Indianapolis, shorter trips to visit friends in Virginia, and shorter trips around New Jersey for dance practice, concerts, errands, and such. But we prefer to walk or bike whenever we can.
One thing we don't do, though, is to use public transit instead as MTN suggests. In the first place, we don't really have any that could get us to all the places we need to go; our transit system here is mostly designed to funnel people into and out of New York and Philadelphia, not to get them from one place in New Jersey to another. And in the second place, a typical train trip generally costs quite a bit more than the gas required to drive it. If we could afford to give up a car entirely by using transit, that might be cheaper, but as we have a car, it's cheaper to use it than to take a bus or train even when one exists to take. (And sadly, according to CityLab, the transit situation in most U.S. cities is just as bad, if not worse. So for most car owners, MTN's advice simply isn't practical.)
6. Clothing and Footwear
This is another area where we're way below average. The average household spent $1,866 on these in 2018; last year, we spent $421. And that was an above-average year for us, including two new pairs of shoes for me to replace ones that had worn out.
How do we keep this cost low? First of all, by disregarding fashion almost completely. As a general rule, we buy new clothes only to replace old clothes that have worn out or are about to wear out (and only after at least attempting to repair them first). Pretty much everything we own was never particularly in fashion to begin with, so it doesn't matter if it falls out.
And second, we do much of our clothes shopping, maybe even most of it, at thrift stores. Our local one isn't very big, but it's cheap, and by checking there frequently, I can manage to find a surprising number of items that fit and are useful. And we always make a point of hitting the Indy-area Goodwill stores when we're in Indiana over Christmas. We can't get everything secondhand; shoes and jeans for me, in particular, aren't commonly available in my size. But we're able to keep our wardrobe fully stocked mainly with used clothes, which also happens to be the main tip recommended by MTN.
7. Cell Phone Service
This is probably the one expense that makes us look more like we belong on an episode of Extreme Cheapskates than any other. The average US household spends $1,188 per year on cell phones; we spend roughly $161. Although I finally took the plunge and bought myself a smartphone after my purse was stolen in 2018, I only use the most bare-bones plan for it that I could get from Red Pocket: $10 a month (plus tax) for 500 minutes, 500 texts, and 500 MB of data, none of which I've ever come anywhere close to using up. And Brian still has our old feature phone with its $3-per-month (plus tax) prepaid plan from T-Mobile.
Admittedly, this may not be quite a fair comparison, since many families these days are using their cell phones as their primary phones, while we still pay $40 a month for a landline. But our combo of a landline plus minimal cell phone use is still significantly cheaper than the average cost for cell phones alone, and it has the added advantage of ensuring that we can't ever be those people who can't go five minutes without checking their phones.
8. Car Insurance
Not much savings here. The average household's annual expense for car insurance is $976, while ours is around $750. And that's for only a single car, with low-to-average mileage. We already follow MTN's advice for keeping the cost down by shopping around yearly; it's just that there's only so low you can go in New Jersey, even with one car that's nine years old and a clean driving record. Just as it's an expensive place to live, it's an expensive place to drive. Probably, in both cases, because there are so many other people doing the same.
9. Alcoholic Drinks
On our expense spreadsheet, alcoholic drinks get lumped in with groceries, so I can't tell at a glance just how much we spend on them each year. However, I can do a quick back-of-the-envelope calculation. We buy the cheap tawny port from Trader Joe's for six bucks a bottle whenever it's available, and it takes Brian about two weeks to go through a bottle, so that works out to around $156 a year. We can't always get the cheap stuff, so occasionally we fill in with a more expensive, though never really expensive bottle — maybe fifteen to twenty bucks — and we occasionally pick up a bottle of bottom-shelf gin or rum, or a liqueur of some kind. (The cheap vodka we buy to make vanilla extract doesn't really count, since it isn't a drink but a food ingredient.)
So, at a rough estimation, you might say we spend around $200 a year on alcohol — less than half the $583 spent by the average household. We've tried MTN's tip of shopping for alcohol at warehouse stores, but Costco doesn't seem to carry tawny port, and their other liquors, though undoubtedly a good value, are higher-quality than we actually need. So, Trader Joe's it is.
10. Medicines
This category, which includes "prescription drugs, over-the-counter drugs, and vitamins," costs the average household $483 a year. Presumably that's the amount they pay out of pocket, not counting any costs that are covered by insurance. I don't know exactly how much we pay for this category, since it's all lumped in under "health care" on my expense sheet, but at a guess, I'd say it's pretty close to this average. Brian only takes one medicine every day, but I require an assortment of meds and supplements to keep me in fighting trim, and while none of them costs all that much, it all adds up. MTN's advice to use a prescription discount card wouldn't really help us, since insurance already picks up most of the cost of our prescriptions, and comparing prices for OTC drugs (and buying generic when possible) is something we do already. Oh well.
11. Cleaning Supplies
OK, we're going out with a bang on this category. The average household apparently spends $184 per year on cleaning supplies, which includes laundry detergent. MTN tells readers "it’s relatively easy and inexpensive to make" your own detergent, but that's only true if by "relatively" they mean relative to making, say, your own clothes. Compared to buying detergent at the store, making your own is neither easy nor particularly inexpensive, as I calculated back in 2013. It might not save you any money at all, and it's certainly a much bigger hassle to make and use.
We, on the other hand, have been using the same big bottle of Kirkland Signature Ultra Clean detergent for over a year, and we still have maybe a quarter of it left. (In theory, the bottle is only good for 140 loads and should have been gone long ago, but we never use close to a full capful, and our clothes don't seem to be noticeably less clean as a result.) If we assume it will last us a total of 18 months, that works out to about $10 per year. The other commercial cleaning products we buy are:
- OxiClean Versatile Stain Remover, which we use for cleaning the toilet and occasionally for getting stains out of laundry. An $8 carton lasts us about 8 months, so that's $12 per year.
- Dish soap — usually the cheap stuff from Aldi, which costs $1.89 per bottle. A 24-ounce bottle lasts us maybe 3 months, so that's another $7.56 per year.
- Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day Multi-Surface Everyday Cleaner, which we bought on a whim at Target to see if it did a better job on our grease-spattered walls than ordinary vinegar and water. It did, but not that much, so we haven't used it often; this $4 bottle will probably last us a couple of years. So that's another $2 per year.
- For really, really tough stains on walls and appliances and such, HDX Easy Erasers — a Magic Eraser knock-off from Home Depot. We only bust one of these out a few times a year, so a $4 box of six erasers will probably last us two years, adding $2 per year to the list.
So, in total, we're probably spending around $36 a year in this category, less than 20 percent of the average. And it's as simple as (1) sticking to vinegar and water whenever we can, and (2) not using more of the commercial cleaners than we absolutely have to.
So there you have it: why we spend more than average in some categories, and how we spend less in others to make up for it. Of course, I realize that your situation may be completely different from ours, so maybe some of the things that work for us won't work for you. For instance, if you live way out in the boonies, and/or you have several kids, getting by with one car might not be practical for your family. But at least some of the savings tricks that work for our family — like using homemade cleaners, rarely eating out, and buying new clothes only when old ones wear out — can almost certainly work for yours. And then, too, you may be able to save in ways that we can't right now, like living in a small apartment or using public transportation exclusively.
It all comes back to what I've always maintained: there's no right way or wrong way to be ecofrugal. It's all about finding what works for you. (Of course, if you know of any other great savings tips applicable to everyone that we're not currently using, I'm always eager to learn more!)