Surviving Without Checks

I ran out of checks several months ago. You know...the personal paper things that you physically tear from a tangible checkbook.

I haven't replaced them since.

Why, you ask? Two reasons, really.

1. I'm hypothosizing that they are unnecessary and, thus, are a deletable expense.

2. I wanted to see if I could really survive without them (gotta put a little spice in my life).

So far so good. Sure, there have been times when I really wished I'd had some checks...like at Christmas time, when I wanted to send my out-of-state nieces and nephews a gift. I knew sending cash was not smart and, to me, sending gift cards seemed equally risky. I wound up ordering them books from Barnes & Noble, because, hey, books are always good gifts and they were shipped free.

When the Girls Scouts came around seeking payment for their cookies, I cursed myself for not being better prepared. In one case, I put off the delivery, because I had no cash on hand. (Oh, why don't they take credit and debit cards, I found myself wishing, along with, why doesn't my family stay away from the cash in my wallet?) In another case, my husband accepted the baked goods with a promise that I'd run to the bank for cash and deliver to the girls later (which I did, by the way...you can't cheat good little samaritans, especially when they live next door).

So, how have I been handling all my other payments? On-line banking. It really is so convenient...the bank writes the checks for you, stuffs them in envelopes, and picks up the expense to mail them. My service is free, but I can imagine it would still be cost effective, even paying a small monthly charge.

For all other transactions, I pay cash or use my debit or credit card. It isn't all that bad being checkless. I have a friend who finds herself in the same situation and she's doing fine, too.

My banker just let me know that I am entitled to free checks with my account, but, you know, I think I'm going to pass. I'll let you know how things turn out....

How about you? Do you write many checks nowadays? Could you survive without them?

I'm Gonna Be Rich...or Disappointed

Much to the chagrin of my children, when I find a mistake on a receipt, I get my money back...before I even leave the store. I'll do it for a few bucks, a dollar, even a lousy nickel...it doesn't matter.

I march myself, sometimes leaving a mortified preteen a bazillion feet behind me, right on up to the customer service desk (or the register where I made my purchase) and point out the mistake. Although I do this with all the politeness I can muster, I do not think these stores or employees (or my kids) much like me.

Well, I don't give a hoot. Money is money...or maybe I'm just plain crazy.

Keep in mind that every store has a different price-guarantee policy and every employee of every store seems to handle things differently. More often than not I get the price difference refunded. Occasionally, I'll get the item free (this is rare, but it does happen). If it's my mistake, I either return the item or keep it and chalk it up to a learning-to-remember-better experience.

I do, however, have to warn you that my mistakes are few and far between. After being home with my family surviving on one income for so long, I am slow approaching expert level at bargain shopping. I can pretty much remember the price of ANYTHING. (Such talent, I know.)

That said, I thought it would be fun and educational to keep track of how much these mistakes can add up to...just how much money can be saved in a single year.

Here's where we stand today, February 26th, 2010 (Day 1): $2.58. I'll post updates periodically.

What's your guesstimate on the one-year total? Do you keep close track of your purchases, or could you care less?

Those Forwarded Personal Emails

It's like nobody wants to read them.

"Mom, I'm about THIS close," my daughter says as she shows me her thumb and forefinger about a half inch apart, "to marking you as spam."

"You wouldn't!" I say, shocked and rather offended.

"I would." I think she means it.

Ms. Smarty Pants. Forget soap in the mouth, I think to myself, how about a nice run through the washing machine?

After hundreds, OK maybe thousands, of forwards sent his way, my husband came home from work one day, put his foot down and said, "Enough with the forwards already," in his I'm-trying-really-hard-to-be-kind voice. Nice guy and all, but man he could use a sedative.

My sister-in-law...now, she was smart. She caught it right away, nipped things in the bud, as she politely asked me to remove her from my forward list--after the very first one!

Still, I remain strong. I continue to pass on emailed inspiration to those not brave enough to tell me to stop. And even then, I press on...ignoring my very own sister, my own flesh and blood, when she tells me I'm cursing her forever because she doesn't know 10 people to pass the stinkin' chain mails on to.

It's like a sickness, an addiction really, that they just don't have a name for yet.

I'm not blaming, I'm just saying, it's my friend Mary. I do so love Mary (for the benefit of Mary, who may very well be reading this). She sends me them, I read them, and then feel compelled to pass them along. They're cute (especially the animal ones)...I just can't help it.

The intentions are good. I always imagine the recipient smiling (as I do when I get them) when they see my name and insightful message in their in box; but, in reality, they are... flinching...or sighing...or ignoring...or deleting. Yet I refuse to see it.

I've heard of other people with the forwarding addiction going so far as to send the messages with the "FWD" part removed to trick people into opening them. There's no other way around it. I'm going to have to get sneaky.

Now, I'm no expert at human relations, but it seems people might get a bit angry (angrier) with me.

How do you feel about forwards? Are you a fan...or do you simply get annoyed by them?

The Kid Knows...Her Morning Routine

This just in...

My youngest daughter (11) just informed me she's setting her alarm clock (unusual)...10 minutes earlier than I normally wake her up (what?).

She says she realizes it's hard for her to get up with any sort of energy when I'm the one doing the waking up. So she's preempting the matter.

What's she doing with her extra time? (I asked the same thing.) Warming up the curling iron and reading while she waits.

Now, why the heck don't I think of these things?

Time management lessons from a kid. Sounds crazy, but I'm going to keep my ears open for more such wisdom around our house.

In the meantime, would you like to share some set-you-straight advice or inspiration you received from a child in your life?

Just a Thought...Kids and Energy

I think I know where kids get all their energy.

They suck it out of all the adults around them. That's why you get so drained watching them.

Little energy suckers. Think about it. :)

Book vs. Movie: Gone With the What?

Wind? What wind? There is no wind in that movie. What...so...ever.

In fact, all I saw on screen was a bunch of overheated, overdressed aristocrat-like (at least in the beginning) people trying hard to beat the windless heat of the South by doing a whole lot of nothing, farming out their every chore to slaves.

There really is no making light of the movie either, which may be, in part, the reason I've put off seeing Gone With the Wind until this past weekend, at the ripe old age of 41. I was curious to see how the movie compared to the book I'd finally read last summer.

I do realize, by the way, that author Margaret Mitchell's main character, Scarlett O'Hara, uttered the book's title as she wondered if her home, Tara, had been burned down by the Yankees. What I don't understand is just why I liked the movie better than the book. That almost never happens for me.

It must be that the book was difficult reading. I found myself beginning to understand the Confederate side of things and that made me uncomfortable. I didn't want to feel that way. (I guess that's great writing.) And, I have never before read a book containing characters I couldn't stand. At all.

The movie, on the other hand, offers two likable characters in Melanie Hamilton and Mammy, in my not-so-expert opinion. They are portrayed differently (wiser, almost) and offer some relief to the whole tragedy of the Civil War. I enjoyed the fine acting and condensed time frame (yes, condensed, when compared to the book).

Overall, I'm glad to have read and seen this important story. No wonder it's a classic. It gives a much needed view of the losing side, and is quite a departure from the happily ended movies of today. I'm going to appreciate my Scarlett O'Hara shrub all the more.

What do you think of Gone With the Wind? Do you usually like a book more than the movie, or the other way around?

Easy Cooking: Chocolate Pudding

Ah, chocolate pudding...delicious and nutritious. Sure, you can knock it for its sugar content, but you can't deny pudding's ability to deliver bone-building calcium and powerful antioxidants to dessert and snack lovers everywhere.

If you're fortunate enough to have fond memories of your mother's or grandmother's homemade chocolate pudding like I do, you probably seldom if ever touch the processed stuff.

There's really no need...so long as you keep the recipe simple. I'm no expert, but I think today I finally stumbled upon the keeper recipe. It's by Kelly Powers at http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Chocolate-Cornstarch-Pudding/Detail.aspx. And, chances are, you have all the ingredients you'll need already on hand.

Chocolate Cornstarch Pudding

• 1/2 cup white sugar
• 3 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
• 1/4 cup cornstarch
• 1/8 teaspoon salt
• 2 3/4 cups milk
• 2 tablespoons margarine or butter
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 

 
In a saucepan, stir together sugar, cocoa, cornstarch and salt. Place over medium heat, and stir in milk. Bring to a boil, and cook, stirring constantly, until mixture thickens enough to coat the back of a metal spoon. Remove from heat, and stir in margarine and vanilla. Let cool briefly, and serve warm, or chill in refrigerator until serving.

 

We ate this pudding cold, warm, and warm with a dab of milk (just like my dad did). How do you prefer your pudding?