A Stitch in Time will Save Your Mind

Creativity is therapeutic. I spend my days -my working life- in a cubicle, immersed in spreadsheets, emails, pricing structures and manufacturing schedules. I work alongside engineers and salespeople, so there is a LOT of nerd activity around me at all times. So in my downtime, I like to tap into my creative side to balance out the pressures and stresses of work energy. I enjoy the process of creating something physical, with my own hands, using my brain to work out how to execute the task and what materials and tools I’ll use. Sometimes I wonder if I even have a dominant side of the brain, or if I function in a more liminal way. Back in school, I majored in Design with a minor in Business… but I digress…

So I have my studio. My refuge. My therapy, if you will. My latest creative endeavor has been with fabric. I wanted to make a bag for groceries. I know, I know, you can buy reusable bags at the grocery store for $0.99. But they’re ugly and floppy and I just don’t want to do that. I thought I could make a better design, something that fits better into everyday life. And, something more meaningful, less likely to be lost or discarded.

So I tapped into my hoard of fabric in the studio. Broke out the sewing machine. Poured a glass of wine. Started matching fabrics, cutting, pinning, and stitching. Swearing, ripping seams out, pouring more wine, restitching. What can I say? It’s a process.

As I worked, my mind wandered from time to time. Sitting at the machine brought me back to my very first job, I was about 11 or 12. My mom worked in town for a lady who made custom flags and banners for yacht clubs, marinas, and the like. So in the summers I would ride my bike over and work there for about 3-4 hours a few times a week. I learned the basics, and I did pretty well. Mostly just prep work like measuring, marking, cutting and basic hemming. The ladies did the fancy custom patterns on the backgrounds I prepped. I worked carefully and didn’t make too many mistakes.

Anyway, I remember I was paid minimum wage, which was about $4.75 at the time. For some unknown reason, my mom repeatedly mentioned how generous that was, how the lady didn’t have to pay me at all, and that I should be under-reporting my actual time worked. My dad pretty much expressed the same attitude. What in the FUCK was that all about? I wonder if it was some leftover Depression-era mindset. Part of me is curious, part of me thinks it’s better to let the past rest. Because when I think about it now, I’m furious. All those messages added up to one thing: You are (monetarily) worth less than others.

Fast forward to today, and I realize how damaging those messages have been to my salary. I took the first offer and did not negotiate. I have not been proactive about annual performance reviews (my company manages to get around to them about every 3-5 years). Why have I been complacent with self-advocacy, when I’m a beast in most other areas? Is it due to those ingrained messages from my primary heroes, who was perhaps flawed in this area?

Why is this whole issue is striking a such a raw nerve with me right now? I am currently navigating a situation at work where I have the opportunity for advancement. Trust me when I say this does NOT happen often at my company. People stay forever. I have one chance here.

So I’ve been spending a lot of mental bandwith prepping for all the possibilities and outcomes. If I get the promotion, there will be salary negotiations and conversations about new expectations on both sides of the table. If I am passed over and the position goes to an outside hire, what does my future look like at the company? What are the reasons for the decision? How can I translate those reasons and spin them in my favor? Can a new job title ( and salary) be created for my responsibilities, which really expand far beyond my current job title.

So coming full circle, working on this market tote, and subsequently reflecting on my portfolio of job skills, has tapped into a pretty fierce competitive streak that was fostered during my time in gymnastics and NCAA diving. One way or another, I’m ready to lay it on the line once again.

How’s that for unpacking some baggage with creative therapy? And an actual bag. And wine.

This market tote used to be a skirt and a fabric scrap.
Pockets inside, so fucking clever.
I can keep it in my pants!!

A Salty Review of 2019

Fuck. What the hell happened? How is it 2020 already? I am not prepared to start a new year. I am not prepared to make new goals for the next 12 months. Yet here it is. Like a goddamned locomotive speeding out of control around an unbanked curve.

So I better get my shit together and sort myself out. Now. Today.

Let me recap with last year’s list of goals. No wait. Let me start with something I’ve never shared before.

Ten years ago – Oct 1, 2010 to be exact – I walked out of my marriage and never looked back. I took 5 cats (don’t judge), 2 dogs, my clothes, books and 1 fucking paycheck. Full stop. Best decision I ever made. Oh, and later in divorce court, I won the $38k consumer debt The Ex accumulated. How? Because I have a fucking job. Someday I’ll (maybe) tell the whole story, but for now, there’s a really great piece here from Bitches Get Riches.

Fast forward, and I can’t even recognize that person from ten years ago. But sometimes I see a flash of her in someone else in my everyday life and I just want to do a fucking Vulcan mind meld somehow and show her how different it can be when you take your power back.

Anyway, let’s get back to the 2019 recap. Last year’s goals, which are literally taped to the inside of my bathroom mirror:

  • FINANCIAL
    • Investment income/dividends equal to one week take-home. DONE. Better than zero from 2 years ago.
    • Max out IRA contribution. DONE. Culmination of a 5-year goal, from zero to max.
    • Make 1 sale of art online. FAIL. This is OK because I abandoned the effort partway thru the year, new project happened.
    • Secure Amazon affiliate status. FAIL. Also OK, same reason.
  • PERSONAL: Be Thoughtful
    • Dad DONE, ONGOING Dad went through a lot of life changes last year, it has been incredibly stressful on the family and we’re doing our best. We have a number of systems & plans set in place now, but we have a lot more work to do.
    • Mom NEEDS IMPROVEMENT, ONGOING Mom had some issues this year too, and I responded as best I could. However, I feel like my Dad’s situation took precedence because he was alone, while my Mom is married and has a much larger support network.
    • PhotoGuy DONE, ONGOING We talk a lot, openly, about so many topics. I think the fact that we’ve both been married before, and have both seen how a relationship can wither and die when communication falters. Also, small acts of service go such a long way: I make sure his coffee is ready to go when he gets into the kitchen, he makes my lunch. Every day. Also, sometimes I buy him new pants and throw out his old pants, and he has no idea.
    • Me DONE I wanted to do something to actively practice self-care so I started a yoga class, and I love how it makes me feel afterwards. FAIL Maybe I have too many wine days, I’d like to do better in that area.
    • Chip ONGOING My little problem-pup requires a ton of medications & special food for numerous health conditions. Now he is also losing his fur, so he needs to wear clothes to stay warm in the winter. Obviously he hates all of it, and I love taking care of him. It is a very dysfunctional relationship.
    • Shadow DONE See below
  • WORK
    • Be on time. FAIL. Let’s just call this a work in progress. Those 5 fucking minutes kill me every day.

Here’s some shit I did not see coming this year. I mean, I knew these things were somewhere on the horizon, but I didn’t really know the timelines, for various reasons.

  • UNPLANNED ACCOMPLISHMENTS
    • Started a business YES I DID It’s stuff for dogs, and I built the whole website by myself. PhotoGuy helps me sometimes with the pro photos, but I’m doing everything else for now. Marketing, production, distribution, etc. My next step for expansion will be to start hiring someone to do the prep work for the production process.
    • Sunroom IN PROGRESS We’ve been wanting to enclose the old screened-in porch for a long time now. Last summer seemed like the right time to start, so we did. PhotoGuy has been managing most of the project, and we’ve done well with purchasing materials, but its still expensive.
    • Shadow DONE My faithful velcro dog passed in early September. When I look back over his life, my heart fills with joy for his accomplishments. One day I’ll tell his story, but for now, it is enough to know that his first few years were not good. He has scars, and was not socialized with people or dogs, so the odds were never in his favor. In his 11 years with me, I watched him improve ever-so-slowly into a confident, relaxed, happy old man who loved his little group of humans and his obnoxious little dog brother. He was comfortable and curious right through his final day. And when his time came to say goodbye, it was very quick and he was not in pain. Who could ask a better departure?

So that’s what I’ve been doing. Now go check out my new thing at Salty Old Dogs! There’s even a place to see dogs wearing their stuff, called The Pack. Enjoy!

Portrait of Shadow at stone wall, by PhotoGuy
Chip and Shadow resting during a hike, by PhotoGuy
Shadow in the woods
Shadow in a meadow
Shadow has a great view
Shadow and Chip play in the snow
Shadow and PhotoGuy in the snow
Shadow kisses his Grandma
Chip and Shadow walk on the beach

Update on the Seeds

Earlier this year I wrote about planting wildflower seeds.

You guys. LOOK at this!! A wall of flowers! And a happy old dog, just because he’s wonderful. Also he loves to photobomb.

black dog standing in front of yellow sunflowers
Senior Management on the job

So I spent $12 on a 1/4 lb of seeds. We planted this bed, and another narrow strip next to PhotoGuy’s studio, and a small patch out near the road. We used about half of the seeds so far. This allows gorgeous backgrounds for plenty of gratuitous dog photos, some privacy from the neighbor, a full season supply of table flowers and hostess gifts.

And just for fun… dividends:

summertime roadside flower stand
Side hustle flower stand, a.k.a “dividends”

Any dollars that make their way into that honor system box will find their way into my Vanguard account. More growth!

What Sports Taught Me About Life Skills

So I did sports as a kid.

I’d been in gymnastics since kindergarten. Some of my earliest memories are fantastical compilations of magically executed tumbling moves. As an adult, I am now painfully aware that in reality I was just being marginally supervised, rolling around on the mat with a dozen other kids in leotards, while the moms were off doing errands for an hour.

Somehow, gymnastics took hold and became as natural to me as breathing. Sure, I dabbled in soccer and other organized sports here ‘n there, but the truth is, I sucked at that stuff. Like, really sucked. Somehow all the other kids knew the dynamics of offensive and defensive positions and I just didn’t get it. But in the gym… in the gym I could fucking fly. I could spin and twist and stretch and I learned how to leverage gravity and physics and centrifugal force to accomplish things that a body just can’t do with brute strength.

In the gym, I learned how to think. I learned how to recognize when I was failing at a particular skill. I learned how to reflect on why a move wasn’t working for me. I learned to examine the root cause, and make adjustments to either correct or modify the situation.

And I learned how to listen. I listened to my coaches. I trusted them when I was unsure of my own abilities, and they pushed me to grow past my fears. I listened to my teammates. They cheered me on, regardless of a good or poor performance. And I listened to myself.

The hardest lesson came when I was 15, and I stopped winning. My body changed. Hormones kicked in. Hard. In the space of about 3 months, my upper body strength was decimated. I struggled everywhere, especially on bars, I felt heavy all the time even though I hadn’t gained any weight. It was obvious to me that I was going to get hurt if I decided to force the issue and continue. It was time to go, I was done. And I was devastated.

I had one ace up my sleeve. I had dabbled in springboard diving, and my gymnastics background was a natural fit. The physics were a substantial adjustment, but hey, so was my now 16-year-old self. New sport, new body, new start. Once my brain understood the center of gravity had now shifted from my shoulders to my hips, everything snapped into place and I was fucking flying again.

Literally flying. And I was good at it. Like, really good.

I had the good fortune to be accepted into a private club team where I trained year-round with a national Junior Olympics coach. I remember making the decision to not pursue the JO path, because at 16, I wanted diving to be a balanced part of my life, not my whole life. I was still coping with the loss of my beloved gymnastics, so I realized that one day, I would age out of this as well. Anyway, I stayed with that club team for a few years, and it was amazing.

In high school, I was undefeated in dual meets. Championships were a bit tougher, but I still did well. As a senior in HS, I was the only one from my swimming & diving team to attend the CIAC State Opens, and I placed seventh in my event. I wasn’t the best diver there that day, but I beat 15 other competitors. And it was the first time in 12 years that my school sent someone. It felt damn good to see my points on the board for my school that day, and know it was 100% my contribution.

The college recruiters made their bids, and I accepted an NCAA scholarship for a state school. The competition was tougher, I had to work harder, and swallow a lot of fear. But this was my ticket to higher education and I wasn’t going to let it go.

I made mistakes while learning new skills. Yes, I’ve had to overcome paralyzing mental blocks. Yes, I’ve hit the water so hard I was out cold in the pool for a few seconds. Scary AF. Yes, I’ve gotten bruises and welts and black eyes from landing wrong. Yes, I’ve hit my head on the board. I’ve even lost two toenails when I hit the board with my feet once. Every single one of those results related to a mistake on the board, not a mistake in the air.

And you know what my coach always said?

“If you don’t like how it feels, don’t do it that way.”

At the end of the day, after all the physical training and mental prep and technical precision and motivational bullshit, it really is that simple. And that’s the one resounding lesson I bring to the rest of my life on a regular basis.

“If you don’t like how it feels, don’t do it that way.”

I think about that a lot sometimes. Relationships, office politics, finances, nutrition, dog training, you name it. When I notice myself – or others – getting so wrapped up in the details and minutiae that the main objective becomes lost… I try to step back and ask, “Does this feel OK?”

So yeah. That’s it. After all the hours in the gym and the pool, after learning how to think, how to listen, how to make the tough, analytical, heart-wrenching decisions, after learning how to start over new again, and to work harder than ever, learning to conquer fear, anxiety and pain… The singular guiding principle was “How does it feel?”

Maybe it doesn’t work for everyone, but very often it puts me back on track.

What about you? Do you have a particular experience that you parlay into a broad-sweeping life-lesson?

Kentucky Derby and Cinco de Mayo Weekend

This is not one of those articles to be clever and find new ways to serve up the classic beverages. Hell no. Nobody really gives a shit about how fancy you are. People get together to be together. So we’re getting right down to business here. Margaritas and beer. Hopefully, a lot of it.

On Saturday we have the widely celebrated Kentucky Derby. This has become an American tradition to wear outlandish hats and say pretentious things like home stretch, dark horse, front runner, in the running, hands-down favorite, win-place-or-show, etc. You almost need to have libations to get on board with all of this and maintain your composure. Let’s not even get into the whole gambling aspect.

Sunday brings the much anticipated Cinco de Mayo. Contrary to popular belief, this is also more an American holiday* than a Mexican one. Margaritas are generally the go-to beverage, and Mexican food is a given. And the beer! Corona, Dos Equis, Sol, Modelo, Estrella, the list goes on. Really, that is cause enough for celebration.

Yes, it can be expensive. But it doesn’t have to be. If you already use the ibotta app, you know you can stack rebates and rewards. This weekend there are bonus rewards for booze! So get ready. Most of the rebates are $1 and $2, with a few $3 and $4 rebates sprinkled in for good measure. If you make two qualifying purchases, there is a Bonus Rebate of $5. I’m serious, this shit is worth it.

ibotta $5 Boozy Fiesta bonus

If you don’t use ibotta, what are you waiting for? Sign up here with my promo code ctdxgof, and thank you!

While you’re at it, think past the derby and the holiday and consider stocking up on liquors running low. Be savvy and stock up when you hit the savings jackpot.

*May 5, 1862 is the day the Mexican army won an unlikely victory over the Napoleon III’s forces. The celebration of the Battle of Puebla should not be confused with the actual Mexican Independence Day which is recognized as September 16.

What I learned from a few days in Oregon

Recently I had the opportunity to take a few days off from work and visit one of my nieces. This one is in grad school in Oregon. She’s really kicking ass, I’m excited to see how her path unfolds in the years ahead.

So the first thing I want to talk about is how fucking inexpensive this was! I paid for my cross-country flight with accumulated (43k) miles. My niece rents a room from a single woman. And by “rent” I really mean, the agreement has evolved over time to substitute the cash for household services. So my niece buys some groceries, cooks dinners and walks the lady’s dog in exchange for boarding. That’s a pretty sweet deal for a grad student. Anyway, there is a spare room in the house, so I was able to stay there at no actual cost. Full disclosure: as a gracious guest, I did spring for dinner.

The next thing I want to talk about is how much I fucking needed this break from my everyday life.

Lately, I’ve been in a tranche where everything seems predetermined and bleak. Work is routine and predictable, no joy or reward in sight. My dad is rapidly descending into Alzheimer’s and its breaking my heart. My brothers and sisters are unorganized so the role of Project Manager is falling on me to organize ourselves as we address dad’s major issues. We’re a tough crowd, no doubt. Delegating is not my best skill, but for the second time in several years, I am flexing that muscle within the family. My mom is also needing some attention, and I feel stretched too thin to give much in that area.

Relationship with PhotoGuy is very good, but I struggle to find the energy to devote to Us. I’m doing my very best, I don’t want this area to suffer because of the other demands on my plate. He is my refuge and my rock when things are tough.

Chip and Shadow are 12 and 14. Age is their enemy. I’m trying so hard to monitor them and be responsive to their needs. Am I doing enough? Are they getting enough attention from me at this stage of their lives? God I hope so, those dogs are my world.

So I scheduled a short break. Four days away from the weight of the world on my shoulders. PhotoGuy memorized all the ridiculous quirks the dogs have trained into me for their daily routine, and their medication schedules. I promised my mom I would flush the public toilets with my foot and “not touch anything.” I questioned why she still feels compelled to have that conversation with me and then decided it was a Mom Thing. I set my out-of-office notification indicating “no access to email” and off I went.

Once the plane leveled off, I slept straight through to Minneapolis. I checked my phone during the layover. 32 texts from family. Quick skim revealed no medical issues with Dad, so… I… did… not… respond…! What a feeling of relief and liberation!! Slept straight through again to Portland with no guilt. 27 new texts from family, no major Dad issues. I decided to maintain my radio silence. It was fucking fabulous.

The next few days were non-stop wise-cracking, raucous laughter, and zero fucks about anything. Oregon is breathtakingly gorgeous, and it was exactly what I needed. We hiked along the coast near Tillamook, we drove through the Gorge, we saw waterfalls in the forests, and we soaked in the hot springs. And the food! I could just die. There was something interesting and comforting everywhere we stopped, always delicious.

view from grassy bluff of coastline in Oregon Pacific North West, with stormy sky and breaking surf along the beach
Stormy sky near Tillamook

During this respite, I was aware of my good fortune. Not everyone has the support system in place to be able to step out of their busy lives for a few days and recharge. Not everyone has planned or designed a way to take advantage of inexpensive soul-quenching fulfillment. These two elements are critical to develop if a person is to continue to operate at peak efficiency over the long term.

Good fortune.

That makes it seem like I’m just lucky. There may be some luck involved, but I also worked very hard to get to this point.

My support system is small but rock solid. I’m naturally introverted. It’s hard for me to let my walls down and really open up. So when I choose to take a new person into my life, on a deep vulnerable level, there’s no going back. I’m 44 years old, and I have 4 people (outside of family) that I can count on when shit goes down. And I would do anything for them, no questions asked. Everyone else can fuck off.

Satisfaction and fulfillment for me have always been from the simple things. I am lucky to be aware of that. As a kid, I’d be lost in books for days. I’d be daydreaming and building my own little worlds in the woods or on the beach for hours. I still do those things, but they have evolved onto bigger projects. I hope they are slightly more sophisticated!

lady on a winter beach, holding a large rescued crab up for the camera
We found this big crab upside down on the beach, we rescued him and put him back into the ocean!

Blending that simple satisfaction into a financial outlook, yes, I am lucky that I am naturally disinclined to pursue material gain. I am fortunate to be a builder rather than a user. The builder mentality seems inclined to pursue longer-term, delayed gratification, seems to be more process-oriented and goal-motivated. It is natural and exciting for me to build wealth one month at a time, one quarterly earning at a time, and measure progress at regular intervals. Even though I enjoy this, it still requires a lot of hard work and discipline to stay the course.

So this brief respite to Oregon taught me – once again – that everyone needs to have a way to step away and recharge. A few days, a few hours, whatever it takes. As I reflect on the adventure, and relive all the heartwarming moments, I am also aware that there is something else that satisfies me deeply. This trip did not break my bank. Between meals for both of us, and a rental car for 3 days, I spent about $380.

Going forward, I resolve to begin scheduling more of these short breaks into my life. I realize now that I can’t just wait until I am completely overwhelmed and take a few vacation days from work. Then I end up just loafing around the house. I need to actually plan. I need to plan a real break, from everyday things. I need to get outside my regular world for a few days and be exposed to new things. And I have the tools in place to easily afford it.

What use is hard work and good fortune if one does not take the opportunity to enjoy it?

So tell me, where do you go when you need to recharge and refresh? What do you do? How do you plan for it?

Seeds

TODAY! Is Glorious! Birds are singing. The air is warming for the day ahead. Its not quite spring bloom yet, but the promise is in the air. Goodbye New England winter! We have defeated your cold, bleak greys and browns again!

It is time to get serious about garden season. What is it about getting your hands in the dirt? Why is it so damn therapeutic? I’ll probably never have the answers. Maybe it is enough just to know it’s true.

Let’s talk about seeds today. So much anticipation, so much promise of bounty and goodness! And so much satisfaction for small monetary investment.

BOOM. There it is. The finance angle. And really, what better analogy for financial investing than actual seeds?

Wildflower Mix from American Meadows

Recently I ordered 1/4 pound of wildflower seed mix from American Meadows. So for about $12, I can cover about 500 square feet. (The website says 250-500 square feet, depending on how densely you distribute the seeds.) I discovered last year that if you overpopulate the soil with seeds, there’s too much competition and that’s no good. My test areas did much better where I mixed the seeds and spread them a bit thinner.

Financial Takeaway: Diversify.

Best way = Indexing.

Look up the Simple Path to Wealth by JH Collins. You can find all you need about index investing on his blog, and there are also some really good podcast interviews around, too. His deep rumbly voice alone will make you feel richer just for listening.

Back to the garden… Remember that post I wrote about building your own soil with yard debris? Well I’ve got a good batch ready to go and I can’t wait to get started! I’ve been planning on extending one of the garden beds, and a fat swath of wildflowers is the perfect thing to fill it.

Total cost of materials: amending the soil will cost $0 out of pocket, and seeds are $12. And come on… $12 for 500 square feet… are you fucking kidding me? If this was inside a house, that equates to 2.4 cents per square foot. Cost of time + labor is a wildly different story, since I’m easy distracted and poorly supervised, as you can see here:

two old dogs asleep on a blanket on the lawn, while autumn leaves fall all around them
The Management

So what’s the ROI for these $12 seeds? I don’t actually have a hard number on that. But there’s a crapload of other rewards. First off, it’s beautiful, casual and interesting to look at. Also, easy to maintain. So what if a weed springs up? Who’s really going to notice? Secondly, wildflowers attract pollinators & wildlife in ways that cultivated plants just can’t. This creates a network of stronger plants that extends much farther than your own property. Want fresh flowers on the table at dinner? Walk outside and cut some. Need a hostess gift? Same, add a pretty ribbon. Want some cash? Throw a roadside stand out there and you’re hustling those flowers. Seriously, people love that shit.

summertime roadside flower stand
My Flower Stand Side Hustle

So get out there and plant some seeds! Actual or financial, spring is the time for new growth!

What do you do with your cash rewards?

A colleague at work recently discovered how to stack grocery coupons and store sales together!! Holy Shit. Obviously this blew his mind. Fast forward several months down the road, tired of another detailed review of his most recent haul and savings, I casually asked…

“So, what are you doing with all this money you’re saving?”

Blinking. Stammering. Crickets.

Huh. Weird. Now this guy is an engineer. I was sort of expecting him to whip out a rev’d level drawing of some obscure plan that would make normal people go blind and drop dead. Nope. His entire plan is to buy stuff / save in a measurable way / gloat about it.

Sorry bud, not good enough. If I’m going through all that effort to do the saving, you bet your ass it’s going to pay me back in a bigger way.

Some of the cash rewards programs utilize PayPal. I have PayPal linked to a small account with my bank that I keep specifically for side hustle. It acts as a holding pen for transfers into Vanguard, or sometimes the stock market if I just can’t help myself. Ibotta is one example that offers cash via PayPal (and Venmo). There are a few others apps I use, but they are really just add-ons, for another time.

So what do you do with your cash rewards? I know you people are next level out there. Tell me your elaborate schemes!

I Wish You Would Soil Yourself

Soil improvement is a dirty garden center scam. They sell products in the spring, loaded with chemicals and weird shit that plants don’t understand. Treated mulches, formulated powders, liquid sprays, slow-release pellets, some cheap, some expensive, all for profit margins.

And what do you do every spring and fall? Clean up debris on your property before summer or winter sets in. And often pay to have it done & removed.

Seriously. Are you fucking kidding me.

Let’s get a grip on ourselves and figure this shit out.

So yard maintenance is basically a lot of cleaning debris and soil augmentation. Good soil makes good, strong, healthy plants. So if you have shitty soil, how do you get good soil?

Decomposition is the basis for this. It’s super simple, yet the science behind it is rather exponential, as it applies to the ecology and scale of your specific environment. Let’s go basic here, and we can explore more details in other articles.

Nature is all over this one. Imagine you are walking in the woods. If you wander off the trail, notice the ground is much softer, not compacted. So you squat down for a closer look. With a stick, you push aside the top layer of leaf litter. You see the remnants of last year’s debris, crumbling before your eyes. An army of insects is probably at work here. A little deeper, and you’ve hit the composted material. This is the good stuff. Dark, rich, fragrant, moist, and bursting with nutrients.

Ohhh yeah baby, you want that, don’t you? All that healthy goodness, for your plants, in your yard. *leans in close, whispers* You can have it. And its FREE. It just takes a little time. When you clean your yard debris, throw it in a pile. Now you have a compost pile. Now go away and come back next year.

Let’s get nerdy with what happened while you were away. But not too nerdy. Imagine the compost pile as a super-city you just built in the middle of nowhere. Like Las Vegas in the desert. Lets call it Soil City.

Nitrogen (green clippings) and carbon (brown leaves and twigs) are the framework on which this City is built. Oxygen and moisture are also key components. Together, these four elements form a powerful engine to fuel all the energy requirements of Soil City. Now this new fluffy pile of yard waste is waiting for residents and workers. “Build it and they will come.”

The first residents are the primary consumers. These are the blue collar workers, and they are here to stay. Millipedes, sowbugs, pillbugs, snails, mites and beetles all begin the shredding process and create more surface area for future processes. Soil City cannot function without them. Earthworms are the next round of newcomers to appear. They are like mid-management. They feast on the smaller, softer elements, and continue the degradation process. (Side-eye to real life)

All these critters do their part to aerate the pile. As they eat, grow and poop, they introduce more populations of bacteria and fungus into the City. These micro-organisms reproduce dramatically and are critical to the break-down process. The bacteria and fungus are the heavy machinery, which is weird because they are microscopic. Make no mistake, they are Legion. That is how they get shit done. Their arrival is like introducing the steam powered engine for the Industrial Age.

If the moisture and oxygen levels are too high or too low, these populations will lose most of their efficiency, or die off altogether, bringing your Soil City to a screeching halt. These are the biblical disasters – drought, famine, flood, etc – that happen in the real world. No good.

If you want to amp up the process even more, go ahead and throw a little shit on your City. See what happens. Adding manure is the equivalent of introducing electricity in the 1920’s. Micro-organism production skyrockets, soil structure and mineral supply improves, leading to better future plant nutrition. Fucking amazing, and you can hardly even see it happening.

Now what about you, the keeper of this optimized system? You are what municipal and state government should be. Your job is to keep Soil City functioning smoothly, help to keep the ecosystem healthy. Not too difficult or demanding as long as the correct resources are available. So keep a watchful eye, check in sometimes, not too much. (Unfortunately for humans, we keep fucking this up in real life, so maybe we should pay attention to a well-function system.)

Once you are in the habit, you’ll have a year-over-year supply chain in place. It’s really just a shift of decision-making. You have to keep your property looking nice anyway. Are you going to do it the shitty expensive way, which includes your time driving to the garden center and trying to make wavering decisions on what chemical shit to buy? Or are you going to do it the efficient way, which includes spending a few hours putting the good shit back into your ecosystem and feeling really fucking satisfied?

Nature is a badass. This composting shit is happening anyway, so you might as well get in on the action. Be intentional with your dollars. That includes where you choose NOT to spend. Keep your money, or better yet, invest what you don’t spend so it can also grow fat and healthy like your plants. Those big garden centers can fuck off with their specialty mulches and fertilizers and fancy shit. If you wouldn’t let your dog lick it, don’t put it in your yard.

Except the manure. That’s okay.

That time I bought a casket…

I’m going to depart from my usual abrasive tone and get sort of serious today. This is a sensitive topic, and I’m sure to hit a few nerves for insensitivity. Please bear with me, because this is important.

Soooo… y’know… the old “death & taxes” thing? I see a lot of conversation in the FI community and personal finance blogs about tax strategies. This is awesome, it has huge repercussions. However, I don’t see a lot of conversation about the death part, except for “make a will” and such.

The fact is, death is part of life. We are all going to be touched by the death of others as we move through our lives. And sometimes, we may be called to handle the arrangements for someone who has passed.

The funeral industry has huge profit margins. The death of a person is a one-time event, and often highly charged with emotion. Perfect formula for specialty services and high end products.

Step back for a moment. Honoring the departed is important. However, that person no longer cares about the details anymore. Gatherings, ceremonies, arrangements… those are for the people who remain here, rituals to assist the grieving process.

Several years ago, I found myself in the position to make the arrangements for someone who had passed away. The person had not been spendy or extravagant in life, so it seemed natural to follow that trend with the arrangements. As I proceeded, I was astounded at the cost of things. I realized that adding the category of “funeral” to something made prices skyrocket. Much like adding the “wedding” label, I suppose. Anyway, I quickly started eliminating that word wherever possible as I continued with plans and arrangements.

Someone passed a tip along to me that really made a huge difference. And let me be extremely clear here – no affiliate links whatsoever – I just think this is really important:

With a CostCo membership, caskets or urns can be purchased at approximately half the price that a funeral home would charge. Sometimes not quite half, but still.

So here’s how it works: CostCo is partnered with Universal Casket Co. You can’t buy directly from Universal, but once you have the CostCo membership, you work with Universal directly. When I did this several years ago, the membership fee was $55. The casket I purchased was $849 from Universal, and $1599 at the funeral home I had chosen for the services. That is a $750 difference. So that $55 membership saved me $695. There is no CostCo within reasonable distance to where I live, so I never used it again, but it was worth every penny.

The funeral director started to look a little frowny when I told him about the casket arrangements I had made. He began to talk about the “package” of services they offer and how they handle every detail during times of grief, etc.

That kind of pissed me off. It made me realize exactly how much of a cold, calculated business transaction this really was to him. Experiencing grief does not turn people into incapable morons. Pouring oneself into the managing the details can sometimes be only thing to get you through that period of time with your sanity partially intact.

My point is, do your homework. Be informed. Know the rules. Funeral homes are obligated by law to accept delivery on your behalf from any source you have chosen. They are not allowed to “require” you to purchase the casket from their establishment, no matter how much they may suggest so, or play to your emotions. Be polite, but stand firmly by your decisions.

It has taken several years for me to feel comfortable to even bring this topic into conversation. I sincerely hope someone benefits from reading this. Maybe CostCo is not the only way to reduce outrageous funerary markups. What about headstones..? Floral displays..? Comments are open for more suggestions… please chime in!