Susan Writes

An Encounter with Marie and Luna

Posted on May 21, 2015 by susanrray

The SkyWest Airlines gates are a half-day’s hike from the Denver airport terminal. I was tempted to stop for food and noticed every restaurant and vending machine. Determined to eat only the peanut butter and crackers that I’d packed, I passed up ice cream, hamburgers, tacos, pizza, even a plastic container of baby carrots, cucumber slices, and celery sticks. Who would buy vegetables for $6.00 from a vending machine?

Finally, I arrived at my gate an hour before my flight. I purposely chose a seat next to a young woman, somewhere between 18- 33, an age that I can never identify, who had obviously bought vending machine vegetables. She held a pet carrier on her lap. “She’ll eat her veggies and talk to her dog, but not me,” I thought as I reached from my book.

I could see thick white fur through the mesh of the canvas pet carrier. The woman unzipped the top of the carrier and held a carrot in her hand. “Are you hungry?” she said. I saw two ears pop up above the zipper – two long furry ears. Rabbit ears. And he was hungry. He held the carrot between his front paws and nibbled it.

“Tell me about your rabbit,” I said. This was more interesting than my book.

“He’s 1 ½ years old and his name is Luna.” I thought, “And you’re taking him with you on a three-hour plane flight? Really? A rabbit. He must be special.” I wanted to know more and Marie was glad to share. She was moving from Colorado to Murfreesboro to live with Marie’s boyfriend and his family. “When we talked about me to moving to Tennessee, he knew that we’re a package. Where I go, Luna goes.”

Luna runs around the house like a cat. He’s pretty much trained to use a litter box, just like a cat. He sleeps and is happy in a big two-story crate with lots of room for him to hop. (It had been shipped to Tennessee earlier.) Marie’s only concern about the flight was that Luna would get hot. “I meant to get a small fan to hold beside him or freeze a bottle of water to put in his carrier, but I got too busy getting everything packed and forgot,” Marie said as she gently massaged Luna’s neck. “A rabbit is the perfect pet.”

The whole time, Marie talked I thought, “Incredible. It’s a rabbit – not a dog. How much does it cost to fly with a pet? Can all animals fly on commercial planes?” I booked my flight through United Airlines and according to its website, domesticated cats, dogs, rabbits and birds can travel accompanied in the aircraft cabin on most U. S. flights. An in-cabin pet may be carried, in addition to a carry-on bag, and is subject to a $125 service charge. There’s a long form to complete and submit along with the fee. Then a PetSafe® representative contacts you to discuss your booking request.

Because I boarded the plane before Marie, I didn’t see where she sat and I couldn’t find her after the flight. I assume that Luna made the flight well, and I’m glad that Marie loves Luna and could bring him to Tennessee with her.

But the very idea of paying good money to bring a rabbit across country on an airplane, well, that beats all, as Granny used to say. And putting $6.00 in a vending machine for a handful of veggies – that beats all, too.

Filed under: Animals, Travel | Tagged: carrots, flying on airplane, perfect pet, rabbit | Leave a comment »

Love You Just the Same

Posted on May 15, 2015 by susanrray

She snuggled in my arms – her eyes closed, hands clenched, knees drawn to her belly. A small bundle, asleep and still, and only two days old. A prayer of thankfulness surged through my thoughts. She stretched. Arched her back, lifted her arms beside her head, and spread her fingers. The top of her head pushed against the crook of my elbow and her legs stretched to my other arm. She took a deep breath, yawned, fluttered her eyelids. Her black eyes, darted, as if to focus. “Hi, Little One,” I said. “Did you have a good nap?” She closed her eyes, made baby sounds – umm, heh – and wiggled her head until once again it was nestled in my arm. She drew up her knees and lay still again.

My youngest Grand. Now she’s two weeks old and I see her through the magic of long distance video. She’s growing already. In a few weeks when I’ll again fly halfway across country to visit her and her family, she’ll open her eyes more often. She might even listen.

Little One, you are blessed to have two big brothers. I laughed the day after you were born and you and Mommy were in the hospital. A big, husky deliveryman carried a new swivel rocking chair into your home and your brother (almost 4) said, “I’ve got a new baby sister.” “Whoa!” the deliveryman said, “that’s a big responsibility. You take care of her. That’s what big brothers do.” Because I had a big brother, I knew what he meant. I asked the deliveryman if he had a younger sister. “I sure do. Used to, she didn’t like me telling her what to do. But now she’s dating and she trusts me and we talk. She knows I’ve always got her back, no matter what happens.” And no matter how old you are or how tall you grow, you’ll always be little sister.

Your headful of black, straight hair is as dark as your mothers. You see, we grandparents and parents and aunts and uncle like to see ourselves in you. Like your dimple –that’s from your mother’s father. Your nose – your dad’s. Your long fingers – I claim those. You are unique. A combination of millions of genes that make you different from all of us, and yet like us.

Little One, you evened the score for Grands for Pop and me. Four boys. Four girls. I may not run as fast as I did when your oldest cousin was born almost ten years ago, but I’ll always have a lap and I’ll read to you. And I may not sew costumes for you as I did for your big girl cousins, but I will finish your baby quilt, I promise, real soon. Your picture album may not have as many pictures, but it will have pictures! And I love you just the same as I love your brothers and your cousins. Just the same.

Filed under: Grandchildren | Tagged: Grand, grandchild, youngest one | Leave a comment »

Mom Said

Posted on May 7, 2015 by susanrray

Sunday is Mother’s Day and I’ll honor my mom with memories. Even though she passed away more that twenty years ago, I still remember many things that she said, and not just her words. There was no time that Mom spoke louder or more clearly than when a surprise gift arrived one day.

At 13, I was as tall as Mom, five foot, seven inches and taller than all my friends. I didn’t like being tall. Mom often placed her hand on the small of my back and gently ran her fingers up my spine. “Stand tall and proud,” she’d whisper.

Dad’s large hands rubbed my shoulders. “No slumping. You’re beautiful – just like your mother,” he’d say.

I didn’t feel proud or beautiful. Just tall.

One summer day a package from Sears Roebuck came in the mail. Mom was pulling weeds from her flowerbed and told me to put it on the kitchen table.

That night while I lay in bed reading Mom laid the package on my bed. I’m not sure of the exact words of our conversation, but they were something like this. Mom said, “Susan, this is for you. You’ll probably never wear it. But you’ll have it if you need it.” I ripped the package’s thick brown paper. Inside was ugly white material—like the drop cloth we’d used while painting my bedroom. This thing had hooks and laces.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“A back brace,” Mom said. “I know it’s hard to stand straight. I remember. I was taller than everyone at school.”

“A brace? My back doesn’t hurt.”

“It’s not for pain. It’s to help you have good posture. You don’t need this brace now. We’ll just put it in your closet and if you ever think it’s too hard to stand straight, you can wear it.” Mom put the hideous brace, inside its brown package, on my closet shelf. Front and center. Eye-level.

After Mom left my room, I wanted to throw the package away, but instead I threw it onto the closet floor, kicked it to the back corner. Throughout my high school years, that package stayed hidden. Mom still rubbed her fingers up my spine. Dad still patted my shoulders. They didn’t have to say anything. I never wanted to see that ugly brace again.

I survived being the tallest girl in my class, and I even accepted my almost-last place in our high school graduation line – shortest to tallest.

When Mom and I packed my clothes before I left home for college, she found the worn package on the closet floor. “I don’t think you need to take this,” she said. I was sure I didn’t.

Years passed. After I graduated from college and married, Mom and I cleaned out my closet so my room could be her sewing room. “Where’s the brown package?” I asked when the closet was empty.

“Gone,” Mom said.

“Where? Did you find someone who needed to wear that awful brace?”

“No. I threw it away after you left for college. It did its job. I’m glad it never came out of the package.”

“So you didn’t want me to wear it?” I asked.

“I hoped not. That might have been the best $6.00 we spent when you were in high school. You stand tall and straight with wonderful posture.”

Mother never took a child psychology or a parenting class. She was a smart, loving mother, and even now, half a century later, when I feel my shoulders slump, I hear her. Loud and clear.

###

Filed under: Family, Holidays | Tagged: back brace, Mother's Day, tall | Leave a comment »

After a Rain

Posted on May 3, 2015 by susanrray

On a warm sunny day after several rainy days, five-year-old Ruth squats low to the ground under a maple tree in her backyard. I walk near her and see that she’s stirring a small puddle of muddy water with a stick.

“What’re you doing, Ruth?” I ask. She looks up. There are mud streaks on her cheeks and she hands me a plastic glass filled with brown liquid with bubbles on top.

“I made chocolate milk with soap and mud. Do you want to taste it?” my Grand says. I shake my head. “I did and it’s disgusting!” Ruth says. She turns her back to me, picks up a handful of mud, molds it into a ball, and flattens it. “Now I’m making a pancake.” She places the mud pancake on a flat rock, scoops muddy water out of the mud puddle, and splashes it on top of the pancake.

She holds the rock toward me. “Try it, Gran. It has chocolate sauce on top and it’s delicious!” I pretend to take a bite and agree that it is delicious.

“As delicious as the mud pies that I made when I was a child. I put gravel in them and sold them to my dad for a nickel,” I say. Ruth asks why I used gravel. “The gravels were chocolate chips.” Ruth nods and turns back to the dirt. I expect that she’ll ask for a nickel for the pancake, but she doesn’t.

Using a plastic shovel and her fingers, my Grand digs in loose dirt and uncovers earthworms. She holds one in her hands and it wiggles. She puts the worm in an orange plastic sand bucket that is half full of muddy water. Then she holds another worm until it too tries to wiggle away, and she puts it into the bucket. I tell Ruth that I played with worms when I was a little girl. She puts both hands in the bucket of water and wraps a worm around her fingers and says, “They really like me, but they can’t live with me so I put them in water and they’ll be happy.” If worms can feel happy, these two certainly should.

Ruth swishes her hands in the bucket of water and wipes them over the grass and then down the side of her shorts. She leaves her mud play and climbs up the ladder of the jungle gym and slides down the five-foot long slide. She jumps on the trampoline with her older brother and sister. I stand outside on the driveway and talk with Daughter as we watch her children play.

Ruth soon returns to the mud puddle and again smashes more mud between her hands. From several feet away, I hear her talking about mud pies and pancakes and chocolate chips and chocolate sauce. She stops her mud play and picks up another earthworm and puts it in the bucket.

It’s time for me to leave Ruth’s family’s home. I tell Daughter and my Grands goodbye, get hugs and kisses, and turn on my car’s ignition. “Wait!” Daughter says and holds up one hand, “Ruth wants to tell you something else.” I roll the car window down.

My Grand yells. “Look out, Gran! There’s a worm. Don’t run over it!”

I wouldn’t dare. That worm will be happy with its friends in Ruth’s bucket of water.

###

Filed under: Grandchildren, Kids Say Funny Things, Play | Tagged: children play, mud, worms | Leave a comment »

Clean off the Bookshelf

Posted on April 22, 2015 by susanrray

Which ones to keep? Which to give away? It’s springtime and time to unclutter. My bookshelf is overflowing and some books – adult books – need to go. Children’s books stay on my shelves. I just read a Facebook post entitled About Books written by John Acuff, who calls himself Old Country Lawyer.

For many years now I have read many books

At times reading up to three a week

After I have read them they stack up

I decided this morning to begin to pass on some of the books

John’s post encourages me to share my books. I naively think that I’ll pull all the books that I’ve read and don’t plan to read again. I’ll give some to the Putnam County Library for their monthly book sale. Take others to the Little Library on Whitson Avenue that’s available for anyone take a book, leave a book, or do both.

The very first paperback includes language that I hope to never hear or read again. Trash it. But it’s made of paper. Should I recycle it? What if it gets in the hands of young person? Should I burn this book?

A hardback book is signed by the author with a personal inscription to me. Not a best seller, but I enjoyed it because I know the author. Should I tear out that page and give the book away?

I have a huge collection of inspirational books, mostly gifts. Books to inspire me as a teacher, a mother, a grandmother, a friend, a woman. It takes all the self-control I can muster not to sit down, pour a glass of iced tea, and read. How can I discard books that were given when my first child was born or many years later when Mom passed away? Personal notes written on the inside covers make all worth keeping.

Travel guidebooks. I can certainly get rid of books about places I’ve been. But there are pages turned down in Fodor’s, Exploring London. And I wrote notes. Where I ate lunch. What I ate. And notes about Big Ben. It’s like a journal.

Ah, finally some books to cull. Paperbacks bought to read while sitting on the beach or travelling on a long trip. One, two, three. I’m on a roll. Wait. That’s not my book. JoAnn’s name is on the front cover and the copyright date is 10 years ago. So did I borrow it then and never return it? I don’t even remember that book. Maybe she’s forgotten it too or maybe she has a record of books she’s loaned and knows I never returned it.

As Old Country Lawyer delved into his book collection he noted some of the same dilemmas. And he ended his writing with these lines.

Sacking up the secular for Good Will
And a select few will be disposed of for fear they may lead someone astray
What are you doing with the stuff you know you need to be rid of?
Pray for me as I sort through my stuff
My prayer is that we all unclutter our lives and concentrate on what really matters.

My task isn’t going as planned. All the books fit on the shelf. I’ll dust and straighten and move on to things that really matter. Like returning JoAnn’s book and hope she has time for a glass of tea.

Filed under: Books, Children, Everyday Life | Tagged: books, Bookshelves, Clean off, Old Country Lawyer | 1 Comment »

What Kids Said

Posted on April 16, 2015 by susanrray

My folder labeled “Kids Said” is overflowing. And the children aren’t just my Grands. Friends share what their children and grandchildren say. So many snippets not long enough for a column and too good to remain hidden in a folder.

From the mouths of three-year-old kids…

Mother walked into the dining room and saw Robin holding her fingers pointed down over her half full glass of milk. Robin likes to dip her fingers into her milk and she’s been told, more than once, not to do it. Robin looked at her mother and said, “May you turn around?”

Granny asked Chuck to ride with her to the cemetery. She explained that her parents and grandparents were buried there. Chuck asked, “Will God be there?” Granny answered, “Yes,” and didn’t give an explanation. Chuck said, “Then I probably won’t get out of the car.”

As Grandma buckled Madison in her car seat, Madison asked a question that Grandma didn’t understand except she heard the words ‘poka dots.’ Grandma didn’t see any polka dots, or any kind of dots, in the car or on their clothes. So Grandma asked Madison where she saw dots. Madison answered quickly, “Your hands, Grandma.”

One November day, Grandmother told Elaine that her grandfather was blowing leaves off their yard and into the woods. Elaine immediately shouted, “With his mouth?”

When Jack’s parents asked him what gifts he wanted for Christmas, he looked into space for a few seconds, and then shouted, “I know! A choking hazard!” Just like other kids, he’d been told many times that he couldn’t have something because it was a choking hazard.

According to five year olds…

When baby brother was born, big sister told Mother, “I really wish you’d had your umbilical cords tied after you had me so I would be the only child!”

Mother looked at Andrew, tousled his hair, hugged him, and said, “You are changing.” Andrew pulled away from Mother, looked down at his legs and then at his arms. “No, I’m not!” he shouted.

When little Mary was asked to pray before the family meal, she looked at the food on the table and then said, “Not for this!”

Grandmother: I’m going to Yoga.

Caroline: What’s a yoga?

Grandmother: It’s exercise to make muscles and joints feel better.

Caroline: Does it get rid of soft, fat tummies?

Grandmother: No. Probably not.

Caroline: Good. Cause I like yours.

The perspective of a seven year old…

Gran dropped her iPhone onto the kitchen floor. Lou put her hand on her hip, cocked her head, and said, “So, now do you have a DUMB phone?”

Lou rode in the backseat of Gran’s van and when they stopped at a traffic light, Lou silently read an inscription close to the top of the Putnam County Courthouse.

Lou: Hmm. That sounds like something Yoda would say.

Gran: What?

Lou: In God, we trust. That’s the way Yoda talks. Not like normal people talk.

Gran: What would normal people say?

Lou: We trust in God.

###

Filed under: Children, Grandchildren | Tagged: Children, Grandchildren, What Kids Said | Leave a comment »

Make a Successful Adult

Posted on April 8, 2015 by susanrray

Sometimes I hear something that strikes my heart and that happened at the WCTE/PBS Annual Dinner last week. Tara Brown, known as The Connection Coach, said that kids need to hear, “You are good at ________.” (Fill in the blank.) The motto under Ms. Brown’s name on the event program read, “Helping schools build stronger connections with every student.” She’s a speaker, trainer, author who inspires audiences to embrace authentic connections to unleash the potential of young people. She said, “A kid needs five healthy adult relationships to be a successful adult.”

You are good at ________. Five healthy adult relationships. Those words hit me like a neon sign printed in all caps. I had healthy, strong, loving relationships. Parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles. But it was a high school teacher and coach who instilled confidence in me as a gangly, awkward teenager and taught me some life lessons.

I grew up in Pickett County where basketball reigned, and still reigns, as the number one sport. Our high school gym was packed for every home game and students vied for a position on the team. Wearing a black and gold Bobcat uniform was a challenge and an honor. As a 9^th grader, I was one of the tallest girls to try out for the team, and I’m sure that Coach Elaine Sells, who had been a Pickett County basketball star and had recently graduated from Tennessee Tech, thought she could train me to be a good player.

It was the days when girls’ basketball was played half court. Three players on offense. Three on defense. All I had to do was post up with my back to the goal, catch the ball, and, with a sweeping arc motion, throw the ball into the goal behind me. No dribbling. No fancy footwork. A simple smooth move for a hook shot. But the balls I threw rarely went through the net. Most times, nowhere near the net.

Elaine did her best. She demonstrated the perfect hook shot. She stood in front of me and I mimicked her movements. I practiced hook shots with and without a basketball. After team practices, Elaine worked one on one with me. At home, I stood in front of the basketball goal in our backyard and tried and tried to master a hook shot. For two basketball seasons, I dressed out in uniform and sat on the bench. The few times that I played in games, I hoped that no one would throw me the ball. Not only was I the tallest player on the team, I was the most uncoordinated and the least competitive, but I loved being a team member.

Elaine kept me on the team. Those two years as a player and the next two years as team manager. She had encouraged me to try and work hard. And then she taught me to accept my limitations and use my assets. I was happy to gather towels and basketballs and cheer loudly and encourage my teammates, especially the younger players.

So, this is a public thank you to Elaine for not giving up on a gangly, awkward girl who loved basketball and couldn’t play a lick. Thank you for giving me a job that I could do well and making me feel successful.

Filed under: Inspirational, sports | Tagged: Basketball, hook shot, successful, The Connection Coach, WCTE/PBS | Leave a comment »

My Forsythia Bush

Posted on April 2, 2015 by susanrray

The tight buds on my Forsythia bush showed just a hint of yellow the morning that I left town for five days. Days that were warm and sunny. Days that coaxed those tight buds to open. When I returned home, bright yellow blooms screamed “Spring!’ I love my huge Forsythia. Those golden yellow flowers announce that cold weather is almost past and warmer days are sure to come.

Many years ago, I read a quote from a book published in 1849 by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. “If Spring came but once in a century, instead of once a year, or burst forth with the sound of an earthquake, and not in silence, what wonder and expectation there would be in all hearts to behold the miraculous change!” I think of the beginning words of that quote every spring when those first yellow blooms open. What if we experienced the beauty of spring only once during our lives? We’d take pictures and tell our children stories about the miracles of spring.

I’m not a gardener and have very few blooming plants in our yard, and I’m really proud of the Forsythia that grows close to our driveway. It’s easy to grow and fast growing – one to two feet per year. My Southern Living gardening book states that no one ever asks “how to grow Forsythia.” The questions are “to prune or not to prune and how to prune.”

How to prune has created some tense conversations between Husband and me. Maybe we wouldn’t say the exact same words, but every discussion went something like this. He said, “That bush has gotten really big and out of control.”

I said, “I love it. It looks natural,”

“I’ll be glad to trim it after it blooms,” Husband said.

“I’ll do it,” I said.

“I can use the hedge trimmer and shape it up. I saw some shaped in a square,” he said.

“Some people like that. I don’t. They plant several in a row and make a hedge. I like mine free-flowing.”

“It’s free flowing, all right. How about I cut those branches hanging over the driveway?” Husband said.

“I’ll do it.”

“And it’s lopsided. Maybe even it up?”

“I’ll work on it,” I promised.

The blossoms will fall. And leaves will sprout to cover each branch. My Forsythia has to be pruned or it will take over the whole driveway. I know that I could cut back the old growth to just inches and maybe I should. But I won’t. Every year, I cut out the dead branches and those that overlap others. I shape the bush enough that Husband thinks it looks better and I think it looks somewhat natural.

This Forsythia bush isn’t just about spring. It’s like the one that I found Easter eggs hidden under when I was a kid. It’s like the one that Mom cut branches off of when just a hint of yellow showed. She stuck those branches in a tall glass vase filled with water and within days yellow blossoms opened. It’s like the one that Dad thought should be trimmed to form a neat square and Mom wanted it to grow naturally. It’s like the one that Mom pruned and never let Dad near with his hedge trimmer. It’s like the one that announced spring when I was a kid.

Filed under: Spring | Tagged: announce spring, Forsythia | 1 Comment »

Anywhere You WAnt

Posted on March 26, 2015 by susanrray

Daughter and I told my two Grands that while we were on an overnight trip to celebrate their birthdays, each could choose a place to eat. Ruth, turning 6, chose the Rainforest Café for lunch. It was convenient for our shopping at Opry Mills where the girls would later build bears. Lou, almost 8, doesn’t like the Rainforest Café. Its thunderstorms. Loud, roaring and squawking animals. Trees and bushes. The food. She’d wait outside in the mall.

As Ruth and I followed the hostess to a corner booth, I heard Daughter use her mother voice and minutes later she and Lou joined us. Ruth loves everything about this restaurant that her sister hates. “Look! There’s the elephants making their loud noises,” Ruth said. This Grand was thrilled. She ate most of the hotdog and potatoes that she ordered while Lou sampled her tomato soup and ate two packages of crackers and a crunchy yeast roll. “Remember,” Lou said, “I’m picking the supper place!”

There were many choices near the Providence Marketplace in Mt. Juliet. After an hour-long swim in our hotel’s swimming pool, both girls were eager to eat supper. “What are you hungry for?” Daughter asked Lou. We settled into our van and everyone buckled seat belts, the girls seated behind Daughter and me. Lou said, “What’s the choices?” And that’s when Daughter and I made our mistake.

“Anywhere you want to go,” I said. Daughter added, “Look around. There are lots places here. You pick.” Then we announced a few places. Panera Bread. Chick-fil-A. Wendy’s. New York Pizza. Lou shook her head after every restaurant we named. Daughter drove slowly around the shopping center parking lot.

“Wait!” Lou said, “Is that Kroger? Let’s go to Kroger!” Daughter and I laughed. “We’re not buying food to cook,” Daughter said.

“No cooking,” Lou said with a big smile. “Let’s go to Kroger and get Lunchables!”

“Lunchables aren’t supper,” said Daughter. “It could be. Get two,” said Lou. I named more restaurants. “Kroger. Lunchables,” my Grand said.

Daughter said, “There’s no place in Kroger to eat.”

“Then we’ll take them back to our hotel room,” Lou said. I said that I wanted to put my feet under a table to eat, not while sitting on a bed. “Then we’ll take them to the swimming pool. There’s tables and chairs there.” I didn’t explain that food wasn’t allowed in the pool area. We were passed the point of being reasonable.

“How about frozen yogurt?” said Daughter. I suggested Marble Slab ice cream.

“Kroger Lunchables! Kroger Lunchables!” Lou chanted happily. Ruth joined in. My two Grands clapped to the beat of their singsong voices. “You said anywhere!” Lou interjected. Daughter and I shook our heads and smiled at each other. “And I didn’t like the Rainforest!” Lou reminded us.

Daughter and I looked carefully at the sign painted on Panera Bread’s door. It didn’t say “No Outside Food” so we stashed Lou’s and Ruth’s suppers inside our purses. We chose a back corner table. Daughter’s and my bowls of soup were delicious and my Grands ate every morsel of their Luncheables.

“Haven’t you written a column about Luncheables?” Daughter asked. I nodded. “This might rate another.”

How could a grandmother and a mother, both former elementary school teachers, not name three choices? Never ever say “Anywhere you want to go.” Never.

Filed under: Birthday, Grandchildren, Kids Say Funny Things | Tagged: Anywhere, Birthday, Luncheables | 2 Comments »

Cheap or Thrifty?

Posted on March 19, 2015 by susanrray

I’m all for saving money when something inexpensive works as well as something high priced. That’s why I have clothespins in a kitchen drawer and an ice cube tray in my clothes closet.

I’ve seen those fancy decorative clips to secure opened bags of chips and bread, but I just can’t shell out a dollar or two for one when I can buy a package of 24 metal spring clothespins for $1.19. I do have two fancy clothespins decorated with rhinestone jewels and blue painted flowers and every time I fasten a bag chips with one, I think of and appreciate my friend Cathy who gave them to me. But the wooden pins with wire springs work just as well for five cents each! Maybe I could have a craft day and decorate my plain clothespins. With markers, a bottle of glue, and some fancy jewels, those ordinary clothespins could be transformed into art, but they wouldn’t keep my chips any fresher.

A white plastic ice cube tray on a shelf in my closet holds my earrings. Expensive and beautiful and cute jewelry holders have never tempted me. When I was a teen I had a jewelry box – just like every female in the 1960s – that set on my bedroom dresser. Now that white box lined with pink satin is stored away with other treasures, like my diary and report cards. For forty years I’ve kept my earrings in the same white plastic ice tray. It’s perfect. I can put one or two pair in each of the 16 places that was really made for an ice cube. And if I need to replace this tray, it’ll cost less than a dollar. That’s cheap enough!

One of my favorite penny-pinching tricks is making garlic and onion salt. When I learned that these salts could be made from garlic or onion powder and regular table salt, I couldn’t use up the bottles of garlic and onion salts in my cabinet fast enough so I could make my own inexpensive mixture. I made extra batches of Chex Mix at Christmastime and coated pork ribs and chicken breasts – everything I cooked – with seasoned salts until finally the bottles were empty.

It’s a simple 1 to 3 ratio. Use 1 part garlic powder or onion powder to 3 parts salt and mix well. A 2.6 ounce bottle of garlic salt costs $2.19 and the same size bottle of garlic powder is $3.39. A box of salt, that hold ten times as much, costs $0.99. There’s about 5 tablespoons in a 2.6 ounce bottle so for $4.38 I can make more than seven bottles of garlic salt and still have enough salt to fill every salt shaker I own. A 2.6 ounce bottle of my mixture of garlic salt costs about sixty cents! $2.19 or $0.60 cents for garlic salt? The $1.59 difference makes it worth my one minute to measure a tablespoon of garlic powder and three tablespoons of salt into an empty store bought garlic salt bottle and shake the bottle.

I like to think I’m thrifty, not cheap. Thrifty sounds so much better than cheap.

Filed under: Everyday Life, Money | Tagged: cheap, clothespin, garlic salt, ice cube tray, onion salt, thrifty | 2 Comments »

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