can i go back to bed now? · house post · stupid human tricks

Maintaining

I’ve been in a sort of funny place with my riding. I want to and I don’t want to. I crave the feeling I get while riding, but I’m currently exhausted and overbooked, and the idea of getting everything together to go to the barn just to be hot and sweaty and miserable is not appealing, when there’s SO much to do at home. So Tris is just sort of hanging out not getting a ton of exercise right now.

It’s not like Tris has been neglected; far from. I’ve gone a few times to pet him on the nose, gather supplies, etc. Other things on the horse front are moving along: I’m washing his winter blankets, and have started showing the trailer. If all goes well, I’ll sell it by the end of the week.

Arya’s separation anxiety issues have been spiking, too, so it’s doubly hard to leave her alone on my days off with her, when she cries and shivers and glues herself to my leg as soon as I start making motions to leave. We may be on the right track to helping her out, but that doesn’t make it any easier to see her so miserable.

The house is moving right along. We’re in a sort of weird decision crunch right now; the electrician comes on Monday to start rewiring, so I’m picking out ceiling fans, bathroom fans, and trying to line up other things to get done next week so that we’re in the right place for rewiring.

We’re finally painting in the master bedroom, too, and I am happy with the test color. One more wall to prep & sand, then prime, and some detail work for the priming to do, and then we will finish with a first coat around the room.

In short: not terribly exciting. I have things I want to blog about and ask, but 99% of my at-home internet time lately has been taken up by endless trawling through home improvement blogs to think about what rating ceiling fan I really need, what the Vermont code is for fire walls, and the relative R-values of insulation. Whew.

budget · food · stupid human tricks

How I Spend $40 a Week on Groceries

Some time ago, I wrote a post about how I’ve managed my horse finances. It hasn’t always been easy. When I first got Tristan, I was making less than $20k a year. I lived on $20 a week for groceries. Read the original post if you want more details.

I’ve mentioned on and off over the years that I still only spend about $40 a week on groceries for the two of us, and people have asked me how we do it. I thought I’d sit down and spell that out.

The following list is not comprehensive, and it’s important to understand that there are a few things that do not count in our grocery bill: toiletries, pet food, and the occasional splurge, which I usually cover as part of my own personal spending. (See also, the $11 jar of locally made hazelnut chocolate spread from the farmer’s market last week. NOT the most efficient use of grocery funds!)

(photos are all public domain, and linked to their originals on Flickr.)

1. Loss leaders

You may have heard this phrase before. “Loss leaders” are items that are on sale that a store will sell at a loss. The goal is to get you in the door for those spectacularly priced items, and then hope that you will buy other things in order to make up the margin. Think the Black Friday sales at 4am.

Here is the trick to loss leaders: don’t buy anything else. In a typical week, I sit down with 2-3 grocery store circulars (the sales ads from newspapers; they’re all available online on store websites now) and skim through them. I make a note of what’s on sale where, and whether it’s worth going to two or more stores. Sometimes it is – if they’re on my route, if the sale is good enough – and sometimes it’s not. This takes about 30 minutes, max. I often do it during lunch at work on a Wednesday or Thursday.

Keep at this and over time you’ll get a sense of a few things. Loss leader sales ($1.99 for boneless chicken breast is a good one up here) repeat at regular intervals. They are located in specific places in the circulars, often mixed among mediocre sales and non-sales. The first page is a good place to start, but look through the whole thing until you start learning instinctively where to look.

So shop for those loss leaders, and don’t get suckered into buying five other things that aren’t even on sale. Eventually you get into a rhythm: you know how much of something that goes on sale regularly you’ll need before the next purchase. I buy, for example, about 5lbs of boneless chicken breast for $10 about every 8-10 weeks. I freeze each chicken breast individually, and since they’re big, they’re about one meal’s worth for my fiance and I. A few weeks ago, I bought 12 boxes of Annie’s mac & cheese for $0.88 a box. It usually retails for $1.99 – $2.59 a box

2. Compare prices

Shopping for loss leaders only works if you have a sense of what a good price is. I could tell you, off the top of my head, the prices for my most commonly purchased items at 4 different grocery stores that are on my regular commuting route. I am always scoping out new items and new prices and cataloging the in my head. It’s one of the reasons my fiance refuses to go grocery shopping with me: I take my time and always look at three times as many things as I end up buying.

It’s part of the game for me. I enjoy food. I like buying it and cooking it and figuring it out. So I’m always curious what’s new on the shelves, how much it costs, how much it would take to make a meal with, and keep that information in my head when I’m thinking about meals for the week.

Corollary to this rule: don’t buy brand name unless you have to. I buy a mix, based on ingredients and personal preference. I’ll always try out a store brand and see how it goes. Sometimes it’s utter crap and we soldier through a box and then never buy it again. Sometimes it’s exactly the same and costs half as much. For example, there is no mayonnaise but Helmann’s mayonnaise and both store brand and Miracle Whip are the devil’s piss. But generic ibuprofen is totally fine. I have a handful of dietary restrictions that mean I buy name brands more often than I like – high fructose corn syrup, for example, triggers my gout, as do many of the preservatives in cheap deli meat – but it’s all about finding that personal balance.

3. Make a list and stick to it

I can’t emphasize this enough. Make a list. Write down the things you need to buy and do not buy anything else. Force yourself to walk out of the store if you have to. When you sit down and look at the grocery store circular, you are in a calm, logical frame of mind. Don’t make the list when you’re hungry, stressed, upset, etc. Reflect on what’s in your fridge and your cupboards, on your week coming up, on any longstanding cravings or curiosities. Peruse the loss leaders.

When I make a list, I do two things, which I admit are a bit obsessive. First, I divide the list by grocery store, and then put items in the order they will be found in the grocery store if I’m making my typical route. See above re exploring the grocery store, getting to know the layout and what’s available. That means that I spend less time going back and forth and am therefore less susceptible to the traps at grocery stores – and I don’t say that lightly. There is actual science in the way that grocery stores are laid out. They are designed to keep you wandering and to attract your attention to buy more food. Don’t let them.

The second thing I do is I make a quick notation of price next to the item. I round up for any cents so I’m sure that there’s overage. Then I skim the list and do a quick mental tally. If I’ve reached the end of my must-haves for the week with room left in the budget, that’s indulgence money. I think about something I want to snack on at work or the barn, something the fiance loves but I rarely buy, or a new ingredient for a recipe I want to try. If it fits in the budget, then I add that to the list. Some people do meal planning; this has never worked for me. Instead, I have a set list of things that I buy on a regular basis, and a variety of ways to combine them depending on mood and time.

Final corollary to this rule: for the love of little green apples, do not go grocery shopping while hungry. Your eyes will get bigger than your stomach and you’ll end up at the register staring at the pile of food you just bought and wondering how in God’s name you will a) afford it all and b) eat it all. See also, the three different kinds of ice cream in my freezer right now.

4. Learn to eat creatively

All of my tips assume that you are at least a semi-competent and/or adventurous cook. If you are buying pre-made foods, pizza, quick and easy stuff, then you’re screwed no matter what. There is simply no way to put together an affordable, healthy grocery shopping trip buying things you can just throw in an oven or microwave. I’m sorry.

Cooking is not difficult. It takes time, sweat, tears, some ruined food, and patience, but it is not a difficult thing unless we’re talking really complicated stuff. Look: if I can spend 9 months killing the rise on every loaf of bread I made, then you, too, can learn basic kitchen skills. Once you do, the world’s your oyster. You can be clever and thoughtful about the ingredients you buy and the way you put them together.

Cooking skills are the difference between “aaaaah, there’s nothing in the cupboard, I have to order a pizza!” and “hm, I have a few weird ingredients but I think I can make something of this.” Learn the flavors you like, and how to play around with food to make them. This will also help you with the loss leaders: typically there are 2-3 items of in-season produce that are dirt cheap. Buying lots of that and learning how to convert it into tasty food is an invaluable skill.

Corollary to this rule: eat less meat. Your bank account and the environment will thank you. I am most emphatically not a vegetarian, but between dietary and budgetary restrictions, I do a lot of experimenting with different kinds of protein. Meat is, for its dietary impact, ludicrously expensive. I only ever buy it on sale. Ever. I really mean that. We eat meat once, maybe twice a week. In the meantime: lentils, beans, eggs, nuts, and other delicious things are great for protein and they’re all cheap.

5. Buy in bulk when you can

Say it with me: price per unit. You don’t even have to be good at math. You don’t even have to have a calculator. Most grocery stores will put the price per unit on the tag on the shelf! The typical grocery store price tag has the name of the item, and the price of the item. To the left of the price of the item is almost always the price per unit – per ounce, pound, gallon, you name it.

Buying small, cute sizes of non-perishable groceries is a fool’s errand. I have lived in tiny, tiny apartments, and so I feel confident in saying to you that no matter how small your kitchen is, you can find some things that make more sense to buy in bulk. We’re not talking Costco levels of absurdity, here. Just looking for a few seconds longer at the label and realizing something like this: that jar of mayonnaise is $3.89, which is a bit pricey when there’s a smaller jar next to it for $1.89. But look! The large jar is more than twice as big, and its price per ounce is $0.15 less. That means that each delicious spoonful of this mayonnaise costs less, and the jar will still fit easily in my fridge. Try not to think too hard about the black magic that means mayonnaise never goes bad.

Obviously, caveats apply: you need to eat these things regularly, you need to have a plan for the food you buy, both for storage and consumption, and you need to be smart about it. Yes, 200 rolls of toilet paper for $0.50 per roll is a great deal but when have moved that same package of toilet paper from three different apartments, you will regret it.

Last piece of this rule is to also think about your price per serving of food. I have rough rules in my head for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and what constitutes a less versus more expensive type of meal. My typical breakfast is $0.50 – $0.75 in food costs: one English muffin ($0.25), 2 tbs peanut butter ($0.15), one mug of tea ($0.10). If I went with an egg and a slice of cheese instead it’s closer to $0.75. Still way less even than the dollar menu at McDonald’s, and tastier besides!

Let’s apply this rule to dinner. I try to stay below $2.00 per person. I most often accomplish this by cooking in bulk and saving servings for lunches later in the week. Chicken casserole, which makes 6 servings: chicken ($1.00), box of pasta ($0.88), chicken stock (free, because I make my own, but for the sake of argument, $1.00), butter ($0.50), flour ($0.25), milk ($0.50). That’s a base of $4.25; typically, I’ll add some kind of in-season vegetable to it, like mushrooms or broccoli or peas. Let’s say that brings it up to $6.00. That’s $1.00 per serving. Maybe I have a glass of milk and a salad on the side – another $1.50.

You can make yourself crazy doing the math for every penny, but the really important thing is to just think about it, a little bit.

So, that is the very long, possibly overly-involved way that I keep our grocery spending to around $40 a week. Some weeks more, some weeks less. With the new house, I went on a bit of a stocking up rampage and spent $110 in one grocery trip, which still makes me slightly queasy. OTOH, we are set through most of June, so there’s that?

dressage · jerkbrain · stupid human tricks

Adult Camp at the Barn

I never really went to horse camp as a kid. Not in the budget, really. I always wanted to.

My barn has an adult camp twice a year – a dressage intensive for older women who come, board their horses with us, get lessons every day and watch the other lessons, get their rides videoed and then analyze the videos over wine, learn about riding to music, so on and so forth.
I have hangups sometimes about the fancy things at my barn, which is that I just ride my horse and I love my horse and if he ever sets foot in a competitive dressage ring again it will be a pleasant surprise.
And there are a LOT of very nice horses at this barn, and they are aimed at Grand Prix, and they are purpose-bred, and they have a lot of money in their blankets and their tack and their vet appointments.
To be clear, the trainer, barn manager, owners, everyone, are the loveliest people and would never, ever judge or treat me differently. They know how hard I work with Tristan, and they love Tristan for who he is, which is all I ever ask. He is valued as the babysitter, as the level-headed sweetheart that he is.
But then people arrive and I get a pang and I think, I would like to spend the whole week in the company of these women, riding my fancy horse and drinking wine together and laughing.

And then I think, I can’t afford it.
If I could afford it, my horse would not be up to it – not even sound, much less at the camp level.
If I could afford it and my horse were sound, I would never be able to get a whole week off.
And then? If all the stars lined up? I’d still feel the outsider. Which is all on me, for sure.
So this is always a weird week for me, of being the ghost around the edges. Last night I got there after it was all over and walked with Tristan up and down the hill, and chatted with the barn manager and another lesson kid, and marveled at the new fancy horses in the stalls.
I guess I don’t have a point to this post, except that incoherent yearning, sometimes. I adore my horse. I am happy with the path we have taken together (well, ok, I could’ve done with fewer vet bills, but you get the idea). I don’t have the drive, the money, the time to follow that other path.
But, still. Still.
humor · stupid human tricks

#horsegirlproblems

Conversation last night between me and the barn manager while she was doing chores in the aisle and I was riding in the indoor.

Me: Ow! Hey, [BM], I just broke my nail on my saddle!
BM: Oh no! Wait, your fingernail or your saddle nail?
Me: My fingernail, it caught on the pommel while I was gathering rein.
BM: Oh, well then, get your damn hands out of your lap!

…she’s not wrong.

stupid human tricks · truck

In which I display excessively poor judgment

My truck is a 2WD. It is in every other way perfect, so I work around that foible by letting it have winters off. It sits in the driveway, slumbering away.

Last year, the battery died. Not a huge deal; I’d never replaced the battery, it was a cold winter, it was time. So we towed it out of the driveway (and the several inches of ice it had frozen into, yikes) and got the battery replaced, problem solved. I had a vague thought of pulling the battery and leaving it inside for the winter this year, but one thing on top of another and I never did.

I was not planning to tackle digging the truck out for a few more weeks yet, but it turns out that we will need to move equipment for work back and forth between three different towns and my truck is the only staff vehicle that can cope with that much Stuff.

Ok; so Tuesday night, I tried to start it. Nada. I called AAA, and they tested it: dead. I faithfully ran it for 30 minutes, then tried again: nada. It’s fine, said the AAA guy, who also works for my regular mechanic. This is a good battery, and it’s less than a year old, so it’s still under warranty. Call us in the morning.

The next morning, I called my mechanic and explained everything to him. He said sure, the battery is probably under warranty, but the warranty does not cover batteries that died due to being left to sit all winter and subsequently freezing. Bring it in the next morning, we’ll test it, and we’ll know for sure.

So that’s where we sit right now. Battery is at the mechanic for the day, but it’s almost certainly dead as a doornail and will need to be replaced. I am banging my head against any and all hard surfaces in frustration, because earlier this week I spent $250 I don’t have on Tristan’s pergolide + pentosan + banamine, and now I may have to spend another $250 I don’t have because of a really dumbass mistake. (Oh and that’s on top of the $550 I don’t have that I have to use to pay our home inspector tomorrow.)

I really flipping hate money. And my own idiocy.

fashion · stupid human tricks

Got Issues? I am your worst nightmare.

Amanda’s post at The $900 Facebook Pony got me thinking and remembering. So many of you have quirks and things that you’re OCD about around the barn.

I get that! I really do! I have a few myself: I triple check stall doors and gates, I really like a nicely swept aisle, etc. You better believe that when I muck out a stall it’s clean to the bones, and as the barn manager recently said when I told her about my endless night check, “So you OCD’d out a little bit, didn’t you?”

Here’s the thing though: there are a whole lot of things that everyone cared very much about that it never occurred to me to even think about, or at least be bothered by.

Tristan’s bridle path hasn’t been trimmed in 4+ months. I honestly can’t remember the last time I figure-8’d my bridle. (Yes, that’s a verb now.) It’s been 3+ months since I cleaned tack, which, to be fair, I haven’t really been using it. Forget trimming fetlocks. I wear breeches and barn clothes into the ground, and then I wear them a few more times, and then I wash them, except in cases of extreme filth or sweat. Usually they’re secondhand anyway, or at the very least off the clearance rack.

I have never, not once, not a single time in almost 10 years, pulled Tristan’s mane. Not a single hair.

Wild unkempt beastie.

Also, it falls naturally to the left. So I leave it there. I’ve never had more than a passing thought of training it over.

Ready for the one that would drive most of you absolutely crazy?

Take a good close look at the boots Tristan is wearing in this picture.
Those are Dover’s house brand galloping boots, in black. They’re Tristan’s standard XC boots; he’s a relatively careful horse and just needs a bit of extra padding. They wear well, and they’re cheap.
Anyone care to guess how long I used them before trimming the extra Velcro straps?
Your answer is never. I never trimmed the extra Velcro off. Every single time I put the boots on, I pulled the Velcro loops snug and left the extra bits flapping in the breeze. It never, not one single time, not once, occurred to me to cut it off.
Then Hannah came with us XC schooling and noticed that I had never cut the Velcro straps and she was horrified, and she would not let me go on course until she had trimmed them properly. See below. You can just see the LF and RH boots in this image: nicely trimmed!

The moral of the story is, I can’t be bothered and would probably drive most of you insane if you boarded with me.

In my defense, my horse is happy, healthy, never wants for anything, and I work my ass off to make sure he has what he needs. I just…don’t have that gene that needs everything around the barn to be Just Right. Neat? Clean? Relatively presentable? In immaculate shape when we’re showing? Hell yes. Any other time? Meh.

stupid human tricks

Blergh

I get migraines on average of twice a year. The last few haven’t been too bad: a few handfuls of OTC drugs, a few hours of rest, and I’m good to go.

Last night, I changed into barn clothes and as I said goodbye to my coworker, I noticed that I was having trouble seeing her. I started to get nervous, but headed out anyway. By the time I got to my car and started it, my aura had started in earnest. Cars on the road in front of me came in and out of my vision, and I lost all depth perception.
I was able to drive the few blocks home, and get drugs into my just as my aura vanished and the migraine really hit. I crawled into bed and after a few hours, felt steadier and able to sit up and have some food. Then back to bed.
This mornin I woke up with my head back in a vice grip, and the world spinning when I moved. I stopped getting migraine-specific drugs a few years ago when they began giving me horrendous side effects – the only time I’ve ever had bad side effects from drugs – and this is really the first one I’ve had in a long time that I needed them for. Oh well. 
So I am home sick today, having finally migrated from the bed to the couch. Sitting up works again, but moving at anything more than a snail’s pace is out of the question. I am watching Ken Burns documentaries and crocheting Christmas gifts.
Which is a long and windy way of saying that I am not riding or at the barn. I have hopes that by this evening I can get to the barn to groom but I am not counting on it.
Sigh. Anyone else get migraines?
can i go back to bed now? · stupid human tricks · winter

Slumping

On the one hand, things are going well: Tris is healthy, happy, fat, and well-cared for as we head into the winter.

On the other: I’ve hit a bit of a slump. December has been a disaster for riding so far, as was the last half of November. I string together two or three days of riding and then I have to go out of town. Or, like today: I took the day off to get to a series of appointments. Two of the three were canceled due to our impending snowstorm.

Great! I thought. I’ll re-route my afternoon and after the first of the appointments, stop by for a few quick errands that need to get done, and then head to the barn. Except, fiance to my car to work today because of said snowstorm; it is 4WD, and bigger and more solid, and I feel better having him drive it when he’s got a long commute on Vermont’s poorly plowed roads.

The storm hit with a vengeance by 1pm – it really seemed to go from overcast to whiteout very quickly. I worked my way through my short errands on the city and main streets, and within an hour even those streets were ugly and slippery in fiance’s smaller, lighter Prius, even with the snow tires on.

So I headed home, and I’ve been puttering away on the kind of necessary household tasks that have been piling up these last few weeks.

I can’t help but feel that if I’d really wanted to get to the barn, I would’ve. Some of that drive and fire that pushed me a few years ago is gone. I’m not sure if I’m overall tired and stressed from work and life, if the work Tristan is doing right now is not lighting a spark, or if I’m just in a temporary lull.

I’ve been reading a lot of blog posts recently by people suffering the same thing. I think in horses we work so hard – and read so often about others working so hard – that it’s a tough thing to admit, and to cope with. When do you need to slow down, when do you need to take a break entirely, and when do you need to get the hell over yourself and push through no matter what? I don’t have answers for myself, unfortunately.

blanketing · stupid human tricks

BEST Bombproof Pony

Last night, I had only a limited window between the end of work and date night with the boy. I sprinted to the barn, grabbed grooming tools, and decided to do a really thorough, end to end curry.

I was capital-L-lazy, and unbuckled the surcingles on Tristan’s blanket, and folded it up over his shoulders while I curried away along his back and his haunches. We were both pretty pleased with life: it was snowing outside, which meant everything was quiet and still and muffled. He loosened and relaxed and chomped away on his hay.

Then he put his head down in just the right way and the entire blanket slid forward onto his head.

He picked his head straight up, and the ENTIRE blanket was covering from about mid-neck to well past his nose, still folded over. A heavyweight blanket, that was already one size too large for him

He just stood there. He was clearly nervous, but he stood like a rock.

I reached forward and slid the blanket back onto his body – thankfully it hadn’t gotten twisted. He turned his head around to look at me, all “well THAT was stupid, MOM.” He blew out. He put his head back down and went back to eating his hay.

BEST PONY.