During a recent conversation with friends I happened upon the conclusion that buying "en masse" is the twin sister of buying in bulk. We were talking about the means of feeding oneself on only $2 a day - how low can one go in the grocery aisle? I noted that $2 a day for one person will result in less food value than $4 for two people. The purchasing power increases with the addition of each individual, even though the $2/person limitation remains.
A simplistic example: With $2 I can buy a bag of rice and a bag of beans and enjoy a hearty meal. If I got in to the store with $4, I can add a couple of vegetables, both stretching the meal to feed two people and increasing the nutritional content. If I bring $6 I can feed three people with rice, beans, and some vegetables, and might be able to pick up a a pound of cheese. Each person gets a little more for his or her $2.
This doesn't work, of course, if one spends her cash at the drive-thru. $2 buys a burger. $4 buys two burgers. No magic there. The same goes on packages of ramen noodles, cans of soup, and other convenience foods, which don't really provide the nutritional requirements of one person and are therefore a nutritional and financial loss from the get-go.
Joining a food co-op is an excellent way to access these savings in the most anonymous way possible. You typically buy a membership share, buy your groceries as you would anywhere else, and maybe receive the occasional refund or rebate based on your annual spending. The downside of this is that most food cooperatives choose to carry better quality food and offer their employees better-than-average wages. By playing a cleaner game than the competition, food co-ops put themselves in a position to be significantly more expensive than the big box stores. I maintain that supporting folks who play by the rules is preferable to saving a buck, however, and we are talking about rice and beans here, so pay the extra 5 cents/pound, for goodness sake.
To really buy en masse, talk to your friends and neighbors. I've known folks who work in food co-ops to form their own co-ops within: combining their employee discounts to buy products in bulk from their stores to divide up amongst themselves. Buying granola from the bins costs about $3/pound. A 25 pound bag of granola might cost $50, making it $2 a pound. Add a 10% discount to that, and 5 individuals come away with five pounds of granola for only $9, a savings of six dollars each. To buy five products - say, rice, beans, honey, and olive oil - in this fashion could reap hundreds of dollars in yearly savings for these thrifty workers.
Seriously buying in bulk is an expensive proposition for individuals. Even if your family would eat 25 pounds of granola in a reasonable amount of time, how many people have an extra $50 for groceries to start out with? Making the switch could take years for a family operating on a limited budget. Of course the average person can trim some fat (give up meat for a few weeks, or coffee, soda, eating out, or driving...), and use the resulting saving to start slowly. But by speaking up and seeking out other folks with similar goals, huge savings could be reaped at a much faster pace.
There are other benefits to making shopping a community event. Families that share shopping lists can also share transportation to-and-from the store. If you invite an elderly or disabled person into your shopping club, you could greatly ease the burden of what might otherwise be a physical and financial challenge. Many farmers will offer discounts on large purchases - especially during the height of tomato and zucchini season. Simply belonging to a group dedicated to saving money and procuring nutrition - how could that not improve your life?
Showing posts with label Urban Community. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Urban Community. Show all posts
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Grocery Savings: Feeding 9 Adults
As you know, saving money has been on my mind the past several weeks. Unfortunately, I feel kind of like I've hit a wall in this area. I look at my money tracking chart, and consider how often the expense line peaks above the earnings line. If not for debt, our spending would fall like a stone, but that won't happen for another couple of months. The other two categories that dominate my wallet are those in which I experience the least amount of choice: rent and work.
Well, I recently nipped that work problem in the bud, huh? Rent is another matter entirely.
Anyone who has ever found themselves to be supporting a professional landlord -someone who has no "day" job, but lets you pay his living expenses on top of his mortgage, and still can't be bothered fixing you toilet, can appreciate the beauty of cooperative living. Our rent covers the cost of living, nothing more and, to be honest, nothing less. So I could well enough leave the rent issue alone and focus on eliminating my other spending categories...but that would mean forsaking my favorite area of frugality: The Kitchen.
My household spends roughly $310 a week feeding our family of nine adults, significantly less than the USDA's "thrifty" food plan prices, despite paying slightly higher prices for organic food purchased from a local grocery cooperative and drinking far more coffee (with organic cream) than one could consider frugal.
Our house does not buy meat, and our convenience foods are pretty limited to cans of salsa, some frozen fruits and veggies, canned tomato products, jams, and tortilla chips. We do not buy cans of beans or soups, frozen dinners, or any baked goods besides bread.
The bulk aisle is a dear friend. Sugars, oils, flour, pasta, nuts, seeds, quinoa, rice, and beans, herbs, cereals, and yes, coffee, are all a fraction of the price of their packaged alternatives.
We do really, really well when it comes to buying food, but I can't help but think we could improve. Already we've saved money buy purchasing bulk laundry and dish soap from Azure Standard, and have slowly edged towards buying honey and apple cider vinegar by the gallon. After months of rumination, my housemates have suddenly become very excited about the concept of purchasing more products in large, manageable quantities.
Since we can't afford to transition all at once, I created a process to determine which products would yield the greatest monthly savings.
First, I recorded every grocery purchase made in April. Fortunately we shop once a week, so this meant reviewing only four receipts, but it took five hours all the same. I noted the product and, in some cases, the brand, the price/unit (pound, oz, loaf, etc.), how many units we purchased that month, the total paid that month, and if we took advantage of sales or coupons. Here are some examples:
Penne Pasta, 3.29/lb, 3.22 lbs purchased, $10.59 total
Russet Potatoes (5 lb bag), 1.10/lb, 5 lb, $5.49 total
Frozen Strawberries (1/2 lb bag), 6.98/lb, 2 lbs, $13.96 total
Looking at the spending in this way made certain things obvious. For one, fresh strawberries are significantly cheaper than frozen, particularly this time of year. So we will probably simply buy fresh and freeze our own from now on, especially if we get to the pick-your-own farm where we can pay as little as $2.50 a pound. This should save us at least $3.96 a month, $47.52 for the year.
I then looked at alternative sources for bulk products. If we were to order whole wheat organic penne pasta from Azure Standard, it would cost only $24.35 for a 10 lb bag. That's $2.44/lb, and would reap a savings of $2.85/month for 3 months. $34 saved over the course of a year may not sound like a great deal, but I made these calculations for every bulk product we spend more than $10/month on and found $54.16 in potential monthly saving. That's without so much as switching brands.
For products produced in Austin, I considered purchasing directly from the producer. I didn't get very far with this. It's still but a whim, but a worthwhile one. Same goes for growing food: we spend a good deal of time in the garden, and often produce side dishes, but I couldn't calculate how much money the occasional jar of jalapenos or handful of green beans actually saves us. Maybe after a few months of tracking...
Finally, I considered how much we could save by producing our own goods. Not wanting to make assumptions, I pulled out ye olde canning recipe book to make exact calculations. Good thing I did, too. Even purchasing bulk tomatoes on special deal specifically for canning directly from farmers (pre-order, no less!) I would still be paying far more to jar our own tomato sauce than to buy it. Bread, on the other hand, is dirt cheap to bake, particularly with sourdough. It doesn't sound like much, but if I could convert my housemates to using the homemade stuff for sandwiches and toast, we could easily save about $40 a month. A gallon of milk is $6, a gallon of yogurt is $13.99. If we made our own, that's $16/month saved. Similar savings could be achieved by making our own salsas, salad dressings, jams and jellies...
So a few hours brainstorm yielded approximately $116 in monthly savings! That could mean $150 back in everyone's pocket come the end of the year, or lowering our individual rents by $12 a month.
Well, I recently nipped that work problem in the bud, huh? Rent is another matter entirely.
Anyone who has ever found themselves to be supporting a professional landlord -someone who has no "day" job, but lets you pay his living expenses on top of his mortgage, and still can't be bothered fixing you toilet, can appreciate the beauty of cooperative living. Our rent covers the cost of living, nothing more and, to be honest, nothing less. So I could well enough leave the rent issue alone and focus on eliminating my other spending categories...but that would mean forsaking my favorite area of frugality: The Kitchen.
My household spends roughly $310 a week feeding our family of nine adults, significantly less than the USDA's "thrifty" food plan prices, despite paying slightly higher prices for organic food purchased from a local grocery cooperative and drinking far more coffee (with organic cream) than one could consider frugal.
Our house does not buy meat, and our convenience foods are pretty limited to cans of salsa, some frozen fruits and veggies, canned tomato products, jams, and tortilla chips. We do not buy cans of beans or soups, frozen dinners, or any baked goods besides bread.
The bulk aisle is a dear friend. Sugars, oils, flour, pasta, nuts, seeds, quinoa, rice, and beans, herbs, cereals, and yes, coffee, are all a fraction of the price of their packaged alternatives.
We do really, really well when it comes to buying food, but I can't help but think we could improve. Already we've saved money buy purchasing bulk laundry and dish soap from Azure Standard, and have slowly edged towards buying honey and apple cider vinegar by the gallon. After months of rumination, my housemates have suddenly become very excited about the concept of purchasing more products in large, manageable quantities.
Since we can't afford to transition all at once, I created a process to determine which products would yield the greatest monthly savings.
First, I recorded every grocery purchase made in April. Fortunately we shop once a week, so this meant reviewing only four receipts, but it took five hours all the same. I noted the product and, in some cases, the brand, the price/unit (pound, oz, loaf, etc.), how many units we purchased that month, the total paid that month, and if we took advantage of sales or coupons. Here are some examples:
Penne Pasta, 3.29/lb, 3.22 lbs purchased, $10.59 total
Russet Potatoes (5 lb bag), 1.10/lb, 5 lb, $5.49 total
Frozen Strawberries (1/2 lb bag), 6.98/lb, 2 lbs, $13.96 total
Looking at the spending in this way made certain things obvious. For one, fresh strawberries are significantly cheaper than frozen, particularly this time of year. So we will probably simply buy fresh and freeze our own from now on, especially if we get to the pick-your-own farm where we can pay as little as $2.50 a pound. This should save us at least $3.96 a month, $47.52 for the year.
I then looked at alternative sources for bulk products. If we were to order whole wheat organic penne pasta from Azure Standard, it would cost only $24.35 for a 10 lb bag. That's $2.44/lb, and would reap a savings of $2.85/month for 3 months. $34 saved over the course of a year may not sound like a great deal, but I made these calculations for every bulk product we spend more than $10/month on and found $54.16 in potential monthly saving. That's without so much as switching brands.
For products produced in Austin, I considered purchasing directly from the producer. I didn't get very far with this. It's still but a whim, but a worthwhile one. Same goes for growing food: we spend a good deal of time in the garden, and often produce side dishes, but I couldn't calculate how much money the occasional jar of jalapenos or handful of green beans actually saves us. Maybe after a few months of tracking...
Finally, I considered how much we could save by producing our own goods. Not wanting to make assumptions, I pulled out ye olde canning recipe book to make exact calculations. Good thing I did, too. Even purchasing bulk tomatoes on special deal specifically for canning directly from farmers (pre-order, no less!) I would still be paying far more to jar our own tomato sauce than to buy it. Bread, on the other hand, is dirt cheap to bake, particularly with sourdough. It doesn't sound like much, but if I could convert my housemates to using the homemade stuff for sandwiches and toast, we could easily save about $40 a month. A gallon of milk is $6, a gallon of yogurt is $13.99. If we made our own, that's $16/month saved. Similar savings could be achieved by making our own salsas, salad dressings, jams and jellies...
So a few hours brainstorm yielded approximately $116 in monthly savings! That could mean $150 back in everyone's pocket come the end of the year, or lowering our individual rents by $12 a month.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
How To Save Money, Part One
1. Share A Home.
Take this as far as you can. Single people can have roommates, married couples can have housemates, and families can share duplexes. There are land trusts, cooperatives, communes, and co-houses of every shape and flavor. Not every cooperative living situation is for every person, but I firmly believe that there is something for everyone.
Many people have told me they need their "space." Many of these people have not really looked at how they live. I have much more personal quiet time in my home of nine people than the average phone addict does. Anyone who spends hours a day glued to their phone, computer, or television does not hold their personal time all that sacred. And anyone who works eight hours a day is not utilizing their home to it's full capacity. Again, nine people live at my house. There are four bathrooms, one living room, a kitchen, and an office. There is only ever a line for the office, because a lot of us can't be bothered owning our own computer.
Our home is never cluttered, there are never dirty dishes abandoned at the sink, the bills never go unpaid, the garden is watered every day (if necessary), broken appliances are immediately repaired or replaced, there is always a bike to borrow, usually a car to borrow, no one has to shop more than once a month, and some people don't shop at all. If we lived in private homes or apartments, there would be five more refrigerators running 24 hours a day, eight hot water heaters, about four more computers, at least six coffee makers, toaster ovens, and/or microwaves. Our massive weekly bulk shopping trip would probably be dividend into a dozen mini-trips involving countless bags, boxes, and cans of food. A single large pot of beans simmering on the stove would, at the very least, translate into eight smaller pots on eight different stoves.
In the incredibly unlikely event that all of our members could own homes in this area, the seven other houses would total at least $49,000 in property taxes a year. Goodness knows how much we would spend, as individuals and couples, on mortgages, fees, and taxes.
Those savings translate to a membership free to work part-time and freelance or be full-time, well-fed artists. They translate to three-day weekends, Summers abroad, and a lifetime of dabbling (I'm a carpenter this week!). They translate to freedom from landlords, banks, and - for some of us - the credit industry.
I'm not gonna lie and say there isn't conflict. But life holds conflict for all of us: it's how we grow and learn and become better people. There are things we have to learn about ourselves in this lifetime, and you're going to learn it from someone or other. Better to get it from a loved one than a landlord, ex-girlfriend, or foreman, right?
Marrying my husband was the single best decision of my entire life. Moving with him into a cooperative comes at a close second. I know that some of my readers have frowned at this decision from the start, and that's fine. I know that a lot of people have never even heard of this style of living, and that it seems alien and creepy (dear God, they eat beans together!). My parents, in particular, are less amused every month. However, very soon I am going to be debt free. And in the eventual future (five to ten years?), I am going to be totally financially free. And if anyone ever asks how, I am not going to mince words. The co-op will be a very, very big part of that. For saving me lots and lots of money, for inspiring and enabling me to take the necessary risks, for supporting me when those risks went horribly wrong, and for inspiring me every single day.
Take this as far as you can. Single people can have roommates, married couples can have housemates, and families can share duplexes. There are land trusts, cooperatives, communes, and co-houses of every shape and flavor. Not every cooperative living situation is for every person, but I firmly believe that there is something for everyone.
Many people have told me they need their "space." Many of these people have not really looked at how they live. I have much more personal quiet time in my home of nine people than the average phone addict does. Anyone who spends hours a day glued to their phone, computer, or television does not hold their personal time all that sacred. And anyone who works eight hours a day is not utilizing their home to it's full capacity. Again, nine people live at my house. There are four bathrooms, one living room, a kitchen, and an office. There is only ever a line for the office, because a lot of us can't be bothered owning our own computer.
Our home is never cluttered, there are never dirty dishes abandoned at the sink, the bills never go unpaid, the garden is watered every day (if necessary), broken appliances are immediately repaired or replaced, there is always a bike to borrow, usually a car to borrow, no one has to shop more than once a month, and some people don't shop at all. If we lived in private homes or apartments, there would be five more refrigerators running 24 hours a day, eight hot water heaters, about four more computers, at least six coffee makers, toaster ovens, and/or microwaves. Our massive weekly bulk shopping trip would probably be dividend into a dozen mini-trips involving countless bags, boxes, and cans of food. A single large pot of beans simmering on the stove would, at the very least, translate into eight smaller pots on eight different stoves.
In the incredibly unlikely event that all of our members could own homes in this area, the seven other houses would total at least $49,000 in property taxes a year. Goodness knows how much we would spend, as individuals and couples, on mortgages, fees, and taxes.
Those savings translate to a membership free to work part-time and freelance or be full-time, well-fed artists. They translate to three-day weekends, Summers abroad, and a lifetime of dabbling (I'm a carpenter this week!). They translate to freedom from landlords, banks, and - for some of us - the credit industry.
I'm not gonna lie and say there isn't conflict. But life holds conflict for all of us: it's how we grow and learn and become better people. There are things we have to learn about ourselves in this lifetime, and you're going to learn it from someone or other. Better to get it from a loved one than a landlord, ex-girlfriend, or foreman, right?
Marrying my husband was the single best decision of my entire life. Moving with him into a cooperative comes at a close second. I know that some of my readers have frowned at this decision from the start, and that's fine. I know that a lot of people have never even heard of this style of living, and that it seems alien and creepy (dear God, they eat beans together!). My parents, in particular, are less amused every month. However, very soon I am going to be debt free. And in the eventual future (five to ten years?), I am going to be totally financially free. And if anyone ever asks how, I am not going to mince words. The co-op will be a very, very big part of that. For saving me lots and lots of money, for inspiring and enabling me to take the necessary risks, for supporting me when those risks went horribly wrong, and for inspiring me every single day.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
The Benefits of Cooperative Living
Last night the house hosted a potluck and clothing swap. I got to stuff myself silly with pie and found two "new" shirts. My cousin-in-law K attended, which was very cool. She's going back to college and trying to move out of her family home and I had a very, very hard time not spewing cooperative propaganda. I kept catching myself, not meaning to preach but strangely overwhelmed by my own enthusiasm.
I didn't realize just how in love with this lifestyle I am before last night, when the benefits had to be described in hard numbers and casual ease. "The rents is so low," I said, "and we have procedures to handle any social issues that arise." It was like describing the benefits of marriage in terms of filing taxes and acquiring health insurance. The finances are the most shallow and celebrated nature of cooperative living. In the meantime, the friendships, support, and challenges are immeasurably more valuable and almost impossible to talk about. Especially the challenges, which have made me a better, stronger, and more loving person than I could have imagined. The challenges that have pushed Darling and me to experience our marriage as the intricate institution that it is, to tear it down and rebuild it as constantly as we ourselves are forced to evolve.
It never gets easier. Marriage, friendships, family...the same B.S. rears its ugly head time and time again, year after year, generation after generation. Many of our behaviors are learned, others seem hopelessly embedded in our DNA. I walk in the shadow of Bipolar Disorder and Alcoholism, the twin guardsmen of my family's genetic down-spiral. Do you know how that comes into play in terms of social cooperation?
The successful group environment demands the best of us, all the time, there's no room for the micro-biological in terms of running a household or business or family. Not to suggest we don't face those obstacles, quite the contrary. Our housemates get depressed, overwhelmed, heartbroken, and fall off their personal wagons every week. They lose jobs and family members and sometimes their dignity. But they are never left to languish, never allowed to backtrack too far. As a group, we focus on moving forward becoming better. The building blocks of health - a moderately clean home, wholesome groceries, heat and hot water - are consistently available. Someone is always available to listen, someone who knows and cares about you. Spend a week in bed, or partying too hard, or whatever. But next week? You have to get the groceries. You have to make the meetings. You have to be the shoulder to cry on, make the tea, hunt down a bottle of Asprin...Also? We have to paint the house, fix the fridge, haul out the trash, plant the garlic, hold a yard sale, stop by Habitat for Humanity, plan a fundraiser, and rework the budget.
Those learned habits and behaviors? We overcome them. Over time, we discover the difference between who we are and who we choose to be. We learn that doing the dishes, by hand, after every meal is so easy that dishwashers are a laughable invention, even for a household of nine. We learn that replacing the motor in a washing machine is easy even if we're not "handy." We learn that certain tones of voice aren't necessary to make our point, then we question what makes us angry and why. We learn that cooking isn't such a mystery after all, we learn how to ask for help, we learn how to listen.
We change for the better. So maybe the next bad week won't be quite as devastating as the last.
Not every housing co-op is for every person. There are many, many dysfunctional group living situations - Darling and I have both lived in several. Our own house has been through some very rough times and perhaps wasn't the most nourishing place to live at one time or another. But the reward of looking, working, and honestly trying to build a group home is indefinable. I wish I could give it to every young adult and every mature senior who feels alone and unappreciated, everyone who has something to learn and something to teach, every couple who lacks the family context necessary to thrive. Hopefully that's where our world is heading towards, a revival of large families and tight-knit communities, a replacement of the "independent" man with the empowered individual. Hopefully I get to be a part of that for the rest of my life.
I didn't realize just how in love with this lifestyle I am before last night, when the benefits had to be described in hard numbers and casual ease. "The rents is so low," I said, "and we have procedures to handle any social issues that arise." It was like describing the benefits of marriage in terms of filing taxes and acquiring health insurance. The finances are the most shallow and celebrated nature of cooperative living. In the meantime, the friendships, support, and challenges are immeasurably more valuable and almost impossible to talk about. Especially the challenges, which have made me a better, stronger, and more loving person than I could have imagined. The challenges that have pushed Darling and me to experience our marriage as the intricate institution that it is, to tear it down and rebuild it as constantly as we ourselves are forced to evolve.
It never gets easier. Marriage, friendships, family...the same B.S. rears its ugly head time and time again, year after year, generation after generation. Many of our behaviors are learned, others seem hopelessly embedded in our DNA. I walk in the shadow of Bipolar Disorder and Alcoholism, the twin guardsmen of my family's genetic down-spiral. Do you know how that comes into play in terms of social cooperation?
The successful group environment demands the best of us, all the time, there's no room for the micro-biological in terms of running a household or business or family. Not to suggest we don't face those obstacles, quite the contrary. Our housemates get depressed, overwhelmed, heartbroken, and fall off their personal wagons every week. They lose jobs and family members and sometimes their dignity. But they are never left to languish, never allowed to backtrack too far. As a group, we focus on moving forward becoming better. The building blocks of health - a moderately clean home, wholesome groceries, heat and hot water - are consistently available. Someone is always available to listen, someone who knows and cares about you. Spend a week in bed, or partying too hard, or whatever. But next week? You have to get the groceries. You have to make the meetings. You have to be the shoulder to cry on, make the tea, hunt down a bottle of Asprin...Also? We have to paint the house, fix the fridge, haul out the trash, plant the garlic, hold a yard sale, stop by Habitat for Humanity, plan a fundraiser, and rework the budget.
Those learned habits and behaviors? We overcome them. Over time, we discover the difference between who we are and who we choose to be. We learn that doing the dishes, by hand, after every meal is so easy that dishwashers are a laughable invention, even for a household of nine. We learn that replacing the motor in a washing machine is easy even if we're not "handy." We learn that certain tones of voice aren't necessary to make our point, then we question what makes us angry and why. We learn that cooking isn't such a mystery after all, we learn how to ask for help, we learn how to listen.
We change for the better. So maybe the next bad week won't be quite as devastating as the last.
Not every housing co-op is for every person. There are many, many dysfunctional group living situations - Darling and I have both lived in several. Our own house has been through some very rough times and perhaps wasn't the most nourishing place to live at one time or another. But the reward of looking, working, and honestly trying to build a group home is indefinable. I wish I could give it to every young adult and every mature senior who feels alone and unappreciated, everyone who has something to learn and something to teach, every couple who lacks the family context necessary to thrive. Hopefully that's where our world is heading towards, a revival of large families and tight-knit communities, a replacement of the "independent" man with the empowered individual. Hopefully I get to be a part of that for the rest of my life.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Traffic Win
Was in bed before nine, up with my alarm, got to work early, and, on the way home, worked out the shortcut I kept losing myself with. As of today I can get home without I-35 and its snail-like traffic jams!!! Good day overall.
Darling has a work meeting tomorrow with an employer who was supposed to start a project two weeks ago. Actually, he has been dealing endlessly with two employers who are two weeks behind schedule. Bleh. At least the union came through and I'm working this month. We might actually catch up on rent before long :)
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Uncooperative Ranting
"We're you really angry at the meeting yesterday, or just a little?"
Crap. I don't easily lose my temper. I'm normally the most patient and level-headed person at any given workplace. When someone does push my buttons, however, my pale complexion erupts in red blotches. That's why I got up at the last meeting and walked across the room to pour and drink a glass of water, hoping no one was paying attention. Apparently Kel was.
It's nice to know that at least someone cares. And that someone had the delicacy to wait for a quiet moment the next day to asses the situation. I shrugged, admitted that I hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before, and the topic dropped.
Less than an hour later I was coping with one co-worker throwing a hissy fit and another insisting on "clearing the air," which was successfully stoking the flames of what should have been solved with a five-minute cool-down period. I got home much later that night than necessary.
Battles of will and ego don't confine themselves to my workplace. At a house meeting Rin wants to know why we don't do more together as a group. Shouldn't we be more cohesive? Why don't we have weekly dinners like other houses? I point out the obvious answers to her question and come off looking like an uncooperative jerk.* Perhaps my frustration is intensified by the fact that I'd begged out of a family dinner so as to attend this meeting.
In other words, I'm experiencing unusually high levels of agitation right now. It might be the effect of my oppressive work schedule. It might be the stress of being absolutely, totally broke for weeks on end. It might be the mounting trepidation of my upcoming long-term challenge. I can't tell if everyone around me is unusually petty and obtuse, or if I'm unusually impatient, or both.
Yuck. Hopefully this mood passes soon.
* We're nine people with nine very different schedules, including a coffee shop employee, corporate drone, student, and bartender. Everyone has a really, really hard time even making the one meeting a week...To try and create another mandatory gathering would put added pressure on those who would attend while alienating those who will inevitably miss out. Not that we don't eat or socialize: many of us take particular effort in preparing meals for each other, playing board games in the evening, going swimming, and so on.
Crap. I don't easily lose my temper. I'm normally the most patient and level-headed person at any given workplace. When someone does push my buttons, however, my pale complexion erupts in red blotches. That's why I got up at the last meeting and walked across the room to pour and drink a glass of water, hoping no one was paying attention. Apparently Kel was.
It's nice to know that at least someone cares. And that someone had the delicacy to wait for a quiet moment the next day to asses the situation. I shrugged, admitted that I hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before, and the topic dropped.
Less than an hour later I was coping with one co-worker throwing a hissy fit and another insisting on "clearing the air," which was successfully stoking the flames of what should have been solved with a five-minute cool-down period. I got home much later that night than necessary.
Battles of will and ego don't confine themselves to my workplace. At a house meeting Rin wants to know why we don't do more together as a group. Shouldn't we be more cohesive? Why don't we have weekly dinners like other houses? I point out the obvious answers to her question and come off looking like an uncooperative jerk.* Perhaps my frustration is intensified by the fact that I'd begged out of a family dinner so as to attend this meeting.
In other words, I'm experiencing unusually high levels of agitation right now. It might be the effect of my oppressive work schedule. It might be the stress of being absolutely, totally broke for weeks on end. It might be the mounting trepidation of my upcoming long-term challenge. I can't tell if everyone around me is unusually petty and obtuse, or if I'm unusually impatient, or both.
Yuck. Hopefully this mood passes soon.
* We're nine people with nine very different schedules, including a coffee shop employee, corporate drone, student, and bartender. Everyone has a really, really hard time even making the one meeting a week...To try and create another mandatory gathering would put added pressure on those who would attend while alienating those who will inevitably miss out. Not that we don't eat or socialize: many of us take particular effort in preparing meals for each other, playing board games in the evening, going swimming, and so on.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Meetings+Sleep Deprivation=Suck
Sunday my Mom came into town. My day was spent traveling to my brother's house ten thousand miles and one bus transfer away from my home to hang out with them for all of six minutes before needing to go to work. Faced with the task of getting home from that evening when the night buses weren't running with neither bike nor cab fare, I was very relieved when my sister-in-law offered the use of her town bike.
I then missed the bus and had to ride to work, showing up sweaty, flustered, and late. It was worth it having the bike to ride home, but the weight of the cruiser added at least twenty minutes to that night's trip.
Four hours after getting home from work I had to wake up and go straight back for a meeting. I cycled fifteen minutes to the train station and slept in the comfortable seat. I was very, very grumpy during the two-hour meeting, at one point so frustrated that I nearly walked out for very immature reasons.
Afterward I returned Sister-in-laws's bike and my day improved. Baby O played with me for quite a while before Mom took me out for lunch and vegan ice cream. Then I headed back to my house for another meeting, which was comparably pleasant, and after that hung out with Ambi to watch the rest of Game of Thrones.
This morning I chose to sleep in rather than try and fix my bike. It was a worthwhile sacrifice. I'll be able to get home by bus for the rest of the week, at least. And only four days until payday!
I then missed the bus and had to ride to work, showing up sweaty, flustered, and late. It was worth it having the bike to ride home, but the weight of the cruiser added at least twenty minutes to that night's trip.
Four hours after getting home from work I had to wake up and go straight back for a meeting. I cycled fifteen minutes to the train station and slept in the comfortable seat. I was very, very grumpy during the two-hour meeting, at one point so frustrated that I nearly walked out for very immature reasons.
Afterward I returned Sister-in-laws's bike and my day improved. Baby O played with me for quite a while before Mom took me out for lunch and vegan ice cream. Then I headed back to my house for another meeting, which was comparably pleasant, and after that hung out with Ambi to watch the rest of Game of Thrones.
This morning I chose to sleep in rather than try and fix my bike. It was a worthwhile sacrifice. I'll be able to get home by bus for the rest of the week, at least. And only four days until payday!
Friday, May 6, 2011
Zen and Now: From Fast Food To Cooperative Employment
I got my first food service job after school on my sixteenth birthday. My new boss had such a thick Liberian accent that as I accepted my Long John Silver work shirt, I didn't know if I was being offered a job or the consolation price.
Almost exactly ten years later, my food-service resume is pretty impressive. I've put in time at an Einstein Bagels, a coffee shop franchise that eventually sued to break its contract and become independent, a very large and successful alternative restaurant in Austin, a nightclub that offered fine dining, a pool hall, an organic farm, a small gas station, a failing coffee shop, a bakery, and a really great Local With A Capital "L" Cafe.
All but the first two jobs were locally owned and often claimed to be family operated. Other than that, they were all very different. I've had as many as 300 coworkers and as few as five. I've attended massive conventions, developed product lines, soothed egos, and eventually walked away. The older I get, the more often customers raise their eyebrows and ask when I'm opening my own bakery/coffee shop/whathaveyou.
The answer is never.
There are two types of business owner. A student of Zen would say that duality is an offense to reality, and that Zen student would be correct. There are not two types of anything, so don't take this as Management 101, but for the sake of my personal agenda, hear me out.
Okay, so, two types of business owner: Expert and Manager.
The Expert is generally an artist, especially when it comes to food. A master baker who went to the best school, taught for ten years, and is now producing the best croissants in town. He.knows.his.stuff. The expert might also be a chef, brewmaster, or barista. After years of refining his or her craft, he or she scrimped and saved, borrowed money, and opened a business.
Sometimes, but not often, that person was smart enough to work in cafe/bakery/restaurant before writing up a business model. But in ten years I've worked for five business owners who had never handled a cash register before their grand opening. Four of those five were Experts. They had a passion and thought that being their own bosses would enable them to focus all of their energy on that passion. And that would be enough to succeed. They were wrong on both counts.
Experts know their craft. They produce a better product than you will ever find anywhere else. But best product in town does not ensure a healthy business. Not if you don't know how to negotiate the management side of things.
So we have managers. Managers are just as passionate as Experts. But their passion is business. These folks are masters at account development, inventory, human resources, client relations, taxes, city permits, and correspondence. They are happy to handle everything that distracts Experts from their craft, everything that actually makes a business function. The problem? Well, being an unexperienced Manager is just as bad as being an unexperienced Expert. The failing coffee shop I worked at had seven owners in eight years, Managers all. Each loved the business model, each had a vision for a hip neighborhood hideout with a live music venue and focus on the arts. Each read everything available about making such businesses work, researched the competition (easy enough, considering the seven identical companies in a five block radius), memorized wage stats and mark up policies, and learned everything possible about making a cafe succeed. The only thing these nice folks didn't do was learn a single goddamn thing about COFFEE. The last couple of owners didn't even drink the stuff. They'd take over, hold a few staff meetings, rotate the product endlessly in an attempt to find the "right" combination, and eventually sell the place at a loss. Unlike the Experts I've worked for, Managers don't go down with the ship.
There is nothing wrong with being a manager or an Expert. I've witnessed both types of owner succeed marvelously. Both bring vital skills to the table, and most successful business owners have both skill sets. I probably lean towards the manager side, if only because I've never totally dedicated myself to a single art (I can pull a decent shot of espresso, knock out a good cake, and program a POS). But really, what I bring to the table is experience. And I have had enough experience to know that owning the business is too much for one person.
Too much risk, too much standardization, too much debt. I do not see the allure of "being my own boss." When it comes to capitalism, no one is free. Especially considering more and more businesses are actually owned by the bank. I'd rather work for a manager (or expert) who is obligated to give me a paycheck than a bank which won't hesitate to repossess vital equipment if a dry spell strands me in the red. I'd much rather be an employee than an owner.
But wait...the Zen student speaks up again. Duality is still an illusion. Just as there are not two types of business owners, one does not have to choose between being an employee or employer. These are just labels alluding to the uneven distribution of risk and reward of doing business!
Why not bring together the experts (who are also managers) and managers (who are also experts), drop the concept of employers and employees (both of whom equally depend on the business for a living), and let them share the risks and rewards alike? When a group of individuals own a business and distribute the costs and profits among themselves evenly, cooperatively, the risks and costs decrease substantially. The baker can bake all day while the manager (in personality, not in title) handles the paperwork. When the boundaries between owners and employees evaporate, it is in everyone's best interest to improve the bottom line. Take it another step and provide ownership potential to your customer base and a business can exist that rests solely on no one's shoulders, which is beloved by dozens, or hundreds, or thousands of dedicated members.
That's the sort of job I started on Wednesday. Community-owned and worker managed. I have been on cloud nine since I was hired on Tuesday. After my two week notice at the cafe is up, I will have a job but not a boss. I'm pretty sure I will never have a boss again. It is the best feeling I've had since discovering I may never have another landlord. The feeling of such sudden liberation has left me dizzy. Is my obsession with financial freedom - with freedom in general - coloring my perception of a democratically led workforce? Or have my co-workers experienced this and moved on, distracted from the head rush by the knowledge that we have a lot of work to do, a lot to learn, and are being paid well enough to do it? Or perhaps I am the only one of my fairly young team who has already dedicated over a decade of her life to bosses, to experts who couldn't manage and managers who lacked experience?
Whatever it is, I'm going to be kind of vague about my job until I don't mind my coworkers knowing about my blog. They already think I'm a completely mad hippie as it is :) I'm crazy excited about this new twist in my life, it's going to inspire so much momentum. And I'm so happy to have you share it with me!
Almost exactly ten years later, my food-service resume is pretty impressive. I've put in time at an Einstein Bagels, a coffee shop franchise that eventually sued to break its contract and become independent, a very large and successful alternative restaurant in Austin, a nightclub that offered fine dining, a pool hall, an organic farm, a small gas station, a failing coffee shop, a bakery, and a really great Local With A Capital "L" Cafe.
All but the first two jobs were locally owned and often claimed to be family operated. Other than that, they were all very different. I've had as many as 300 coworkers and as few as five. I've attended massive conventions, developed product lines, soothed egos, and eventually walked away. The older I get, the more often customers raise their eyebrows and ask when I'm opening my own bakery/coffee shop/whathaveyou.
The answer is never.
There are two types of business owner. A student of Zen would say that duality is an offense to reality, and that Zen student would be correct. There are not two types of anything, so don't take this as Management 101, but for the sake of my personal agenda, hear me out.
Okay, so, two types of business owner: Expert and Manager.
The Expert is generally an artist, especially when it comes to food. A master baker who went to the best school, taught for ten years, and is now producing the best croissants in town. He.knows.his.stuff. The expert might also be a chef, brewmaster, or barista. After years of refining his or her craft, he or she scrimped and saved, borrowed money, and opened a business.
Sometimes, but not often, that person was smart enough to work in cafe/bakery/restaurant before writing up a business model. But in ten years I've worked for five business owners who had never handled a cash register before their grand opening. Four of those five were Experts. They had a passion and thought that being their own bosses would enable them to focus all of their energy on that passion. And that would be enough to succeed. They were wrong on both counts.
Experts know their craft. They produce a better product than you will ever find anywhere else. But best product in town does not ensure a healthy business. Not if you don't know how to negotiate the management side of things.
So we have managers. Managers are just as passionate as Experts. But their passion is business. These folks are masters at account development, inventory, human resources, client relations, taxes, city permits, and correspondence. They are happy to handle everything that distracts Experts from their craft, everything that actually makes a business function. The problem? Well, being an unexperienced Manager is just as bad as being an unexperienced Expert. The failing coffee shop I worked at had seven owners in eight years, Managers all. Each loved the business model, each had a vision for a hip neighborhood hideout with a live music venue and focus on the arts. Each read everything available about making such businesses work, researched the competition (easy enough, considering the seven identical companies in a five block radius), memorized wage stats and mark up policies, and learned everything possible about making a cafe succeed. The only thing these nice folks didn't do was learn a single goddamn thing about COFFEE. The last couple of owners didn't even drink the stuff. They'd take over, hold a few staff meetings, rotate the product endlessly in an attempt to find the "right" combination, and eventually sell the place at a loss. Unlike the Experts I've worked for, Managers don't go down with the ship.
There is nothing wrong with being a manager or an Expert. I've witnessed both types of owner succeed marvelously. Both bring vital skills to the table, and most successful business owners have both skill sets. I probably lean towards the manager side, if only because I've never totally dedicated myself to a single art (I can pull a decent shot of espresso, knock out a good cake, and program a POS). But really, what I bring to the table is experience. And I have had enough experience to know that owning the business is too much for one person.
Too much risk, too much standardization, too much debt. I do not see the allure of "being my own boss." When it comes to capitalism, no one is free. Especially considering more and more businesses are actually owned by the bank. I'd rather work for a manager (or expert) who is obligated to give me a paycheck than a bank which won't hesitate to repossess vital equipment if a dry spell strands me in the red. I'd much rather be an employee than an owner.
But wait...the Zen student speaks up again. Duality is still an illusion. Just as there are not two types of business owners, one does not have to choose between being an employee or employer. These are just labels alluding to the uneven distribution of risk and reward of doing business!
Why not bring together the experts (who are also managers) and managers (who are also experts), drop the concept of employers and employees (both of whom equally depend on the business for a living), and let them share the risks and rewards alike? When a group of individuals own a business and distribute the costs and profits among themselves evenly, cooperatively, the risks and costs decrease substantially. The baker can bake all day while the manager (in personality, not in title) handles the paperwork. When the boundaries between owners and employees evaporate, it is in everyone's best interest to improve the bottom line. Take it another step and provide ownership potential to your customer base and a business can exist that rests solely on no one's shoulders, which is beloved by dozens, or hundreds, or thousands of dedicated members.
That's the sort of job I started on Wednesday. Community-owned and worker managed. I have been on cloud nine since I was hired on Tuesday. After my two week notice at the cafe is up, I will have a job but not a boss. I'm pretty sure I will never have a boss again. It is the best feeling I've had since discovering I may never have another landlord. The feeling of such sudden liberation has left me dizzy. Is my obsession with financial freedom - with freedom in general - coloring my perception of a democratically led workforce? Or have my co-workers experienced this and moved on, distracted from the head rush by the knowledge that we have a lot of work to do, a lot to learn, and are being paid well enough to do it? Or perhaps I am the only one of my fairly young team who has already dedicated over a decade of her life to bosses, to experts who couldn't manage and managers who lacked experience?
Whatever it is, I'm going to be kind of vague about my job until I don't mind my coworkers knowing about my blog. They already think I'm a completely mad hippie as it is :) I'm crazy excited about this new twist in my life, it's going to inspire so much momentum. And I'm so happy to have you share it with me!
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Garage Sale Part II
This morning I awoke at five in the morning for Part II of our garage sale. Bo and I lugged everything into the driveway, then woke up Em, SK, and Rin to arrange everything nicely. As they did that I made breakfast: Migas, blueberry muffins, yogurt with honey, sliced cantaloupe and oranges, and baked apples with cinnamon and brown sugar. It was a lot of work for little return: by 11 a.m. we only made $20. I retired inside, took a bath, and passed out for several hours. Darling and BS cleaned up behind us, SK and Bo will be making a few dozen runs to the charity shop. I intend to chill out until my shift at work tonight.
This was the co-ops last-ditch effort in fund-raising for maintenance repairs/lawyer bills. We did really well overall, earning just over $1000, but there's still a good chance that rent will go up. We'll probably know after tomorrow's board meeting. The cost for for single folks living in the house is still atrociously low for this area, and Darling and I are still spending less on room and board than we did as renters, but pretty soon I'd like to look at the numbers and know how much less. I'm even beginning to wonder if Austin is becoming too expensive over all...
This was the co-ops last-ditch effort in fund-raising for maintenance repairs/lawyer bills. We did really well overall, earning just over $1000, but there's still a good chance that rent will go up. We'll probably know after tomorrow's board meeting. The cost for for single folks living in the house is still atrociously low for this area, and Darling and I are still spending less on room and board than we did as renters, but pretty soon I'd like to look at the numbers and know how much less. I'm even beginning to wonder if Austin is becoming too expensive over all...
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Fund-Raising Party and New Phones
Jellies! Size 8!!! Free.Yesterday my house hosted a massive fund-raising event which started with a garage sale at dawn, evolved into an early lunch and open house, and ended with one of the coolest parties I've ever attended. Our property was like South Austin concentrate. During the day there was acupuncture and hula-hooping in the yard as we enjoyed fresh baked bread and cheese from the farmer's market. Come evening a fire was lit, a keg of homebrew beer was tapped, and live music was played in the garden and in the den. The party was made up of green architects, physicists, college professors, massage therapists, musicians, artists, poets, dancers, circus performers, glass blowers, programmers, wait staff, and canvassers. Local celebrities mingled with California transplants. Old hippies with silver hair recounted the Austin of days past, but for once had a hard time decrying what was "lost," as they were surrounded by friends exchanging heirloom tomato seedlings and kombucha scobies, writing songs, and quietly debating politics around the fire pit.
Flats of veggie seedling we sold at the garage saleIn other news: Darling and I purchased Verizon Droids. I highly doubt this was a cheap option, even though the phones were free with a two year contract. It might have not been the most socially sound option...though I'm really glad we didn't get stuck with AT&T. But oh man, do I love these phones.
I hate to say it, really I do. But they are so freaking cool it's unbelievable. I can't get over it. We can check our e-mail, the weather, call friends and family, AND TAKE PICTURES. I can probably do something with music, also, and I can check out Youtube videos of baby animals whenever I want to. It's like magic.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
What Darling Does For A Living
I think Darling might be the least understood aspect of my lifestyle, at least so far as the blogosphere goes. Our relationship is not traditional by any stretch of the imagination. I was nineteen when we married, a fact that now boggles even my own imagination, especially since he is that much older than myself.
Darling is extremely likable. Intelligent and well-read. He can quote entire episodes of Monty Python, discuss each American presidency in detail, recite most of The Hitchhikers Guide to The Universe, or discuss which leader of which third-world country has done what to affect the value of someone's currency. He knows the best times to call Saudi Arabia if you want to catch someone before they leave their office, which super heroes are Marvel and which are DC and the general histories and happenings of both universes, how to build a computer, and how to give one hell of a foot massage.
Those who know us personally consider us the model couple. We can barely go a month without a friend quietly confiding in us that they consider our relationship to be absolutely ideal. My married brothers and sister ask us what our secret is. My thrice-divorced parents congratulate me on finding the perfect mate.
People who don't know Darling, however, are confused by his employment and income history. While a number of the homesteading and sustainability blogs I read advocate the single income household, there seems to be the understanding that a husband should financially support his wife. Men, after all, can enter the lucrative and homestead-friendly careers of construction and carpentry, mechanics and the military, with far greater ease than most women. In the meantime, ladies can do the tough and very underpaid work of childbearing and housekeeping.
The fact that Darling and I don't have children and share the housekeeping duties with three men and four women only muddles the matter. The fact that I like to work a whole lot, and Darling has very strict preferences when it comes to earning money, gives a false impression of the support systems in this marriage. If Darling isn't out earning a living, or at least changing diapers, what the heck is he doing?
He's actually worked for the majority of our marriage, earning money building websites and doing tech support, landscaping, canvassing for environmental causes, and working kitchens. I'm definitely the breadwinner, however, and Darling becomes very dissatisfied very quickly with paid employment. Because I'm able to support us - and strongly believe in the merits of a single-income household - Darling spends most of his time pursuing unpaid endeavors.
He's an excellent house keeper, much better than myself at caring for and repairing clothing. He darns socks and mends sheets I'd just as soon toss in the trashcan. He's an excellent cook and does most of our personal housekeeping, such as cleaning our bathroom and making the bed.
He takes a great deal of responsibility within our housing cooperative. His current favorite project is re-wiring the house with an electrician friend of his from college. The co-op buildings were co
nstructed in the thirties, and aside for some piecemeal work done here and there, not much has been updated. We're a little tired of living in a fire hazard, so the house has been collecting quotes from electricians for years. Thanks to Darling and his friend, we're finally getting the work done at half the cost of the lowest estimate.If rewiring the house wasn't enough, Darling is also in the middle of re-engineering our legal standing as a corporation. The first year he was president of the board the co-op had to focus on damage control: our bylaws were in shambles and the only thing that was keeping the organization from liquidating was the worrisome fact that there would be hundreds of thousands of dollars dispensed, according to Texas Business Organization Code, among the previous five years of residents of the house. Even the three members of the house who would qualify for a large share of that money were horrified at the thought, and the founders of the co-op were reasonably suspicious of this legal ramification which was very much not what they had in mind when creating the company. Every action residents of the house took was under intense scrutiny, critique, and suspicion. Many people were afraid to hire a lawyer to clear up the misunderstandings and confusions, certain that any legal action would immediately escalate into lawsuits.
Instead, Darling and the rest of the board took firm and gentle action and spent countless hours sorting through a legal mess fifteen years in the making. A year later the house was able to hire a lawyer with the founders' blessing (more or less), and Darling was re-elected president of the board that is only months away from totally resolving dozens of issues that brought a thirty-year-old cooperative to the brink of a heartbreaking demise. This. was. not. easy. He spends hours a week communicating with the lawyer, digging through records, fine-tuning and amending paperwork, and trying to explain to everyone what's going on and why.
On top of being president of the board, legal liaison, and electrician's apprentice, Darling has also been volunteering two or three days a week with a non-profit company providing assistance to Austin's large population of people who are mentally ill, homeless, HIV positive, or all three. Darling has always experienced intense compassion for those with mental illness and is very happy being involved with that community again. Two days a week he offers phone support in a nearby office, and on Thursdays or Fridays he is on call for garden assistance. His hope is to eventually be put on the payroll.
I, on the other hand, work. I wait tables for South Austin's hippie elite, serving coffee to men and women who have nothing to do in the middle of a Monday afternoon than surf facebook and sip espresso. No doubt these men and women have decent jobs, no doubt they have earned their double soy lattes, but I doubt very many of them have devoted themselves to the good of Austin as my Darling has.
If Darling worked we would be debt free much sooner. We could afford property faster, adopt a child more easily. Instead, I support him and his endeavors. I encourage him to follow his heart, and he does the same for me. He has made me the center of his world, and works very hard to keep it as pleasant a world as possible.
I do not mind if Darling never gets a job. I want him at home and in the community. I want him developing skills and relationships that are outside the sphere of steady wages and income. I want to follow his example and learn to find worth beyond my paycheck, to embrace days that lack structure and authority, to give without taking. That's what my Darling does for a living.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Many despriptions of cooperative living depict a life of continuous socialization. You might imagine me rolling out of bed and getting in line, toothbrush in hand, for the shower. Perhaps afterward I pour a bowl of homemade granola and as ask Rin to pass the milk. Dinner is undoubtedly a noisy affair followed by evenings taking turns on the piano and playing endless games of Monopoly in the living room.
In reality we do play boardgames and occassionally crowd the kitchen, but the nine of us also have very different lives and social circles. Our schedules are so different that we have an incredibly difficult time scheduling sit-down meals or parties. We watch the occassional film together, but lately our den has been "booked" rather than cassually shared. Darling hosts sci-fi film and gaming days, BS rehearses with his bands, and Rin has a yoga class...three activities that don't exactly go hand in hand.
The evenings we find ourselves together tend to be spontateous and surprisingly sweet. Last Friday we had just such an event. BS and Mimi built a fire, and one by one myself, Bo, Sk and a friend of his, Em and her boyfriend, and Vin ventured out to take a seat. Only Darling and Rin were missing, many people were quietly sipping wine and the topic was love and regrets as we huddled close to the flames for warmth. We spoke of the house, of days past and needed repairs, of wayward young family members, of ex-wives and ex-housemates.
I paint this picture not only to give you a sense of our "family" dynamic, but to explain why one might crave whiskey. One might have even crave whiskey, on that chill starry evening, enough to ride in a car with someone else and shell out $12 for a bottle. Which is what I did.
That was my fourth ride in a car this year, all for what amounted to a single shot sipped slowly as the hours passed while others indulged more heavily. Afterward I went upstairs and tidied my room for a bit. I made the bed and lit some candles and was happy when my Darling husband returned home from his visit with my brother.
In reality we do play boardgames and occassionally crowd the kitchen, but the nine of us also have very different lives and social circles. Our schedules are so different that we have an incredibly difficult time scheduling sit-down meals or parties. We watch the occassional film together, but lately our den has been "booked" rather than cassually shared. Darling hosts sci-fi film and gaming days, BS rehearses with his bands, and Rin has a yoga class...three activities that don't exactly go hand in hand.
The evenings we find ourselves together tend to be spontateous and surprisingly sweet. Last Friday we had just such an event. BS and Mimi built a fire, and one by one myself, Bo, Sk and a friend of his, Em and her boyfriend, and Vin ventured out to take a seat. Only Darling and Rin were missing, many people were quietly sipping wine and the topic was love and regrets as we huddled close to the flames for warmth. We spoke of the house, of days past and needed repairs, of wayward young family members, of ex-wives and ex-housemates.
I paint this picture not only to give you a sense of our "family" dynamic, but to explain why one might crave whiskey. One might have even crave whiskey, on that chill starry evening, enough to ride in a car with someone else and shell out $12 for a bottle. Which is what I did.
That was my fourth ride in a car this year, all for what amounted to a single shot sipped slowly as the hours passed while others indulged more heavily. Afterward I went upstairs and tidied my room for a bit. I made the bed and lit some candles and was happy when my Darling husband returned home from his visit with my brother.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Perfect Co-op Day
Yesterday was such a lovely day!
For months (nearly a year) the entire co-op has been preparing for the Annual General Meeting, to which everyone who has ever lived at the house is invited. Last year's meeting went horribly, horribly wrong, creating a huge amount of clean-up work and stress for residents and non-residents alike. So there was a certain amount of trepidation as we approached this one. Would there be arguments? Legal threats? Lawyers?!
Because the meeting was also a potluck, everyone in the house participated in cooking and/or clean-up. Darling made a delicious potato and leek soup the previous evening, I baked two loaves of rye bread, one housemate was up at 6:30 a.m. prepping an elaborate seasonal lasagna, another roasted root veggies. Other housemates ran to and from the store for last minute ingredients, washed our constant stream of dishes and cleaned the kitchen around the cooks, beautified the dining space, and otherwise prepared the house.
And, amazingly, the meal was absolutely perfect. We had a house full of early members, including one of the founders (who dreamed this place into existence thirty years ago). The meal and conversation went on for ages, we finally started our meeting and had an excellent facilitator who managed - against all odds - to keep the mood light and positive and conversation on track. We voted in a new board and very gently managed to nominate only people who would get unanimous approval.
After the meeting it was absolutely unthinkable that the house would not decompress with adult beverages. That was the inevitable result of months and months of stress and anxiety being diffused in such a gloriously pleasant manner. Our strange little family is safe! I collected cash and requests, and someone gave me a ride to the nearest liquor store to purchase a couple of bottles of wine, a tenth of whiskey, and a case of beer. We spent the rest of the afternoon simply talking in the garden, and as it grew dark and chilly, moved round the fire pit to chat late into the evening, and even later we enjoyed herbal tea in the kitchen. Definitely one of the days that I will always remember, absolutely perfect. Living in a co-op is not always easy, this year in particular tested our perseverance far beyond our expectations, but it days like yesterday made it so totally worthwhile!
...
It would be wrong not to note that we did spend an unexpected $20 pitching in on adult beverages during our no-spend month. That little indiscretion will hopefully be the last, but I'm not going to beat myself up about it!
In fact, I will take this as a lesson. Brewing our own alcohol may be one of those sustainable urban hobbies I've been considering. Darling and I probably couldn't save much money brewing our own, but there would be other benefits. Environmentally speaking, we'd reduce waste and consumption: we wouldn't have to worry about the petroleum used in transport, and we'd invest in good bottles to for repeated re-use. We'd also know where all of our ingredients come from, whether or not they are organic or fair-trade and what not. And of course home-crafted beers will be lovely gifts for friends and family!
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Embracing Urban Frugality
I've been doing a lot of thinking on thrift, lifestyle, and penny-pinching from an urban perspective. Like I mentioned before, short of moving away from the co-op (and all the excellent benefits of living here), we're not going to save money on rent or groceries, regardless of how many loaves of bread I bake. But that doesn't mean Darling and I are stuck in a rut. Just the opposite: we have many opportunities that are totally out of the rural homesteaders reach! We might not own goats, but we don't need a truck either. One lifestyle isn't necessarily better than the other, but there is a trade-off to be appreciated, and more important, taken advantage of.
For example, Darling and I are quite proud that we live a car-free life. Even when calculating money lost by not owning a car, including diminished time and fewer earning opportunities, I'm sure living car-free saves us thousands of dollars a year. However, when the transportation choices we make are measured against those offered by our environment, it is obvious that we could be saving more money and time! If we fixed our bikes (one from the Salvation Army, the other donated by a friend who yanked it out of a dumpster), it would cost a maximum of $50 with the help of the The Yellow Bike Project.
Darling and I use the bus at least three times a week, costing us a at least $48 a month. According to Google Maps, biking to our usual destinations is about 10 minutes faster than using public transport, which would save us 20 minutes round trip. The savings of an hour a week isn't incredibly significant, since that hour on the bus is spent reading, studying, napping, and chatting, but the addition of an hour of exercise - which is so hard to squeeze into our schedules- is. Therefore, a few hours and $25-$50 can save us $576 a year and help us lose weight and remain fit.
Amazing what a small shift in perspective can do for a lady, huh?
We're looking at cutting back other expenses as well, those incremental ones that seem so minimal but surely add up, and also the big ones that hit us hard once a year (have I prepared for Christmas yet? Of course not). There are a lot of crafts that have always seemed too big a hassle for just Darling and me. It might be time to learn to make soap, and give the excess bars out for Christmas. We're going to take a glass blowing class next week, and might start looking to create income selling crafts. Darling and I could be brewing more beer since we didn't stop drinking it after all. And if I actually started working on quilts once in a while, maybe I could actually sell one or two to cover the costs of my thrift store wardrobe.
Anyone else out there roughing it in the city? I know about all you awesome kids with apiaries and worm bins, but how many readers are taking an urban approach towards sustainability?
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Where A Softly Spends Her Money
Stating that I mostly spend money locally made me question my blog-related honesty. After all, the past several months I have mostly shopped at gas stations, Brookshire Brothers, and Mexican Restaurants as a result of being on the road to and from my Mom's. For the time being, there is no "regular" in my life.
I decided to carefully track our expenses this month, both to prepare for an upcoming "no spend month" as well as determine whether darling and I are as local as we want to be. We did something similar May of 2007. Since I track our spending anyway, it won't be difficult to post what's happened so far:
According to my planner, we've made the following purchases this month:
1st: no spending
2nd: $3 spent at South Austin Soap People
3rd: $43 spent taking Dad and Darling out to dinner at El Mercado (includes a $10 tip because my Dad grabbed the waiter to get a better look at his tattoos!!!)
$19 sent to the student loan company
4th: no spending
5th: $5 spent on a large iced soy chai latte at Ruta Maya International Headquarters while I was checking their free class calendar (includes a dollar tip)
So far, $70 spent, roughly 74% of that at local businesses.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Co-op Life
Look at me! Answering a question in a timely manner. See what sleep can do for a Softly?
Lizzie asked me to describe life of the co-op in detail. I'll start by saying that all cooperative housing situations are different. There are dozens in Austin, including ICC student housing, unofficial family-style rental arrangements, and even sprawling, permanent campsites. There is probably something for everyone.
Sunflower is a fairly average co-op. We own two large lots in a very trendy area; one lot holds the two houses, the other lot has our large shed and garden, which slopes down into a shady "meadow." The back house has five bedrooms and two bathrooms. The front house has a den, pantry with laundry facilities, office, two bathrooms, and three bedrooms. Darling and I have the most space, basically the entire second story of the front house. This is the largest bedroom with a walk in closet, our "own" bathroom, and a closet located on the landing. Darling converted the closet to be a small office when we first moved in.
There are 9 permanent residents. Included in our ranks are a professional musician and father, a massage therapist who has lived at the house for ten years, a recent college graduate, an Irish environmental consultant, an Indian engineer, an underemployed ex-programmer, and a professional community organizer. The average age is probably in the mid 30's.
We pay a monthly room and variable rent, which is determined every year when we build our budget. The house budget includes everything from groceries and utility bills to maintenance and accountant fees. It's actually fairly massive, considering we collectively pay for our large and productive garden, appliances, and emergencies (such as when our water heater died last year). The room rent is more or less permanent, and the same for every room. The variable changes with our budget, and is paid per person per day. So Darling and I each pay a variable, and when someone is out of town for a few days they are not required to pay a variable for that time. Guests staying for more than a few days (often sleeping on the futon in our den) are expected to pay a fraction of the variable.
As well as rent, everyone is expected to pitch in a certain amount of time to do chores and housework. Every chore earns a "point," which is measured in 15 minute intervals. Grocery shopping for the house usually takes a couple of hours, therefore earning about 8 points. Taking out the compost, watering the garden, sharing a meal, anything done for the greater good earns points. We are required to earn 30 per week, some people earn far more, others fewer. We supplement the point system with a chore wheel: the key things that must be done every week (cleaning out the fridge, sweeping and mopping, dusting, etc.) are accomplished on a rotating basis. There is no immediate consequence to not doing one's chore or gaining points, but when someone is lazy, of course, conflict arises.
We have a meeting every week which includes a (rotating) facilitator and note taker. The agenda hangs in the kitchen where anyone can add anything to it at any point. As no one likes never-ending meetings, we're pretty good at self-regulating how much to mark down during the week. Some items come up over and over again, usually scribbled on the agenda at 2 a.m. "DISHES!!!" Other items on the agenda might be emergency maintenance issues, a potential party, a visiting guest, or a heads up on upcoming board meetings. When a single person is responsible for, say, not keeping up with points, it is usually brought up first in a general way during the meeting, "We all need to be pitching in."
The meeting is followed by a round of "personal space," during which everyone shares their experiences and feelings of the week. This is by far the most profound part of the meeting, and more than once we discover that someone who hasn't been involved has been under a lot of pressure at work, having her heart broken, or been quietly ill. We end the meeting with a group hug, which we jokingly end when it "gets awkward."
If and when conflict is not resolved with a group hug (and it happens often), individuals are welcome to request a 5-on-5. This is a respected, personal way of taking someone aside and letting them know how you feel in an official way. Basically, each person has five minutes to make his/her case without interruption, back and forth until they feel the manner is resolved. In the year I've lived here, that is all we've needed, but we have a budget to hire an arbitrator should the need arise.
This is a phenomenally different lifestyle than what Darling and I experienced as a renting couple (as a legal co-op, residents literally own the house and pooled assets). It has affected nearly every facet of our existence. And no, it's not always comfortable. There are conversations I'd rather not have: I don't want a doorbell, we have to hire a plumber before that leaky faucet gets worse, our money is spread too thin between too many accounts, and just wait till I catch whomever is hoarding the bowls... I really don't look forward to the inevitable day a house mate leaves and we must find a new one before our vacancy fund runs low. And when Darling and I have a tiff? It can be awkward, to say the least, acting out our couple drama with an unsuspecting audience.
But the rewards are endless.Our diet alone has improved dramatically. Before moving here, Darling and I could not devote as much money as we would have liked on nutritious, organic food. By pooling our money (to the tune of about $250 a week), our house is able to purchase a healthy variety of nuts, seeds, oils, fruits, veggies, grains, dried beans, and dairy. The house only purchases vegetarian food, by the way, and we are allowed to add anything (within reason) to the list. In fact, simply not having to shop every week has increased my free time dramatically.
I can focus that free time with other household activities, and am often found in the kitchen baking the house's bread and preparing yogurt. Darling makes breakfast almost every morning and helps deal with the house's financial and board responsibilities. For some reason my passion for gardening has waned, and it's nice to know someone is picking up the slack outdoors. Others wield hammers in the endless pursuit of keeping this old house standing. Being a homeowner is a group effort!
There is also something to be said for the strong support system we have access to. There is always someone willing to offer a ride, a shoulder to cry on, or an herbal remedy. Privacy is a non-issue.
Space can be an issue, and I don't mean for more stuff. Darling and I hope to expand our family someday soon, pretty much as soon as nature allows. In the event that a baby Softly doesn't bounce into our lives by the time we finish paying debt, Darling and I will save to adopt/foster. Incidentally, two or three babies have been born in this house since it was made a co-op. I figure babies don't need all that much space, but at some point we will need a nursery. Part of me fantasizes that we will rent two rooms of the co-op, which would still be affordable. But in reality, Darling and I love to travel, and it's very likely that we'll seek other living situations when he finishes college. At this point, I have no desire to leave.
Hope that answers your questions, Lizzie!
Friday, August 27, 2010
Cleaning
It's been a busy several days at the co-op. With the help of about a dozen volunteers we're completely re-landscaping our front yard. So far we've ripped up all the invasive, mosquito-friendly plants, leveled it with shovels and rakes, and built up several berms and small rock terraces (we live at the bottom of a hill, so erosion and rainwater loss is a big problem for us). The house has been supplying dinner for the volunteers, so I've been pleasantly busy in the kitchen tossing salads and blending dressings, whipping up cornbread and kneading wheat bread, simmering soups and so on.
In the meantime I've been trying to create a pleasant space in my room upstairs with Darling. Several weeks ago he painted the bedroom a really comforting coral color, replacing the revolting shade of yellow a previous tenant put up. I've enjoyed being in the room so much more ever since, so I'm trying to reach a constant level of tidiness that builds on that feeling. For the first time since our marriage I put up curtains (for real, not just sheets tacked over the window). I spent a full day clearing up and organizing earlier this week, and yesterday I gave the bathroom its first deep clean since we moved in a year ago. By the way, why didn't anyone tell me that gray stuff scrubs off the bathtub and leaves a shiny white surface?
Next week I start working regularly again, and a personal goal of mine is to hold off on other commitments until the habits of keeping a pleasant room - regular laundry, making the bed, washing windows, and so on - become simple daily habits.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Baby, Co-op, and Day off
Sorry posting suddenly got sporadic, my brother's baby girl was born earlier this month and I've been very busy with family every since.
Things are finally getting back to normal, or at least as normal as they have been for the past several weeks. Our co-op drama has taken another turn. The president of the board called last week claiming to have come to his senses and is "firing" M, the man who has been causing so much trouble. Supposedly that was scheduled for yesterday, so we'll know at tonight's house meeting how that turned out. I, for one, do not have my hopes up. M acts so irrationally I can imagine him refusing to be fired...in fact, it happened once before! We could sell this house to be knocked down and turned into condos, and he would be here banging on the door demanding rent receipts from the new owners.
Before the meeting I have plenty of positive tasks to focus on. Thanks to work drama I have the day off, which means finishing the baby quilt (9 days late), napping, catching up on chores, and maybe catching up on posting.
Things are finally getting back to normal, or at least as normal as they have been for the past several weeks. Our co-op drama has taken another turn. The president of the board called last week claiming to have come to his senses and is "firing" M, the man who has been causing so much trouble. Supposedly that was scheduled for yesterday, so we'll know at tonight's house meeting how that turned out. I, for one, do not have my hopes up. M acts so irrationally I can imagine him refusing to be fired...in fact, it happened once before! We could sell this house to be knocked down and turned into condos, and he would be here banging on the door demanding rent receipts from the new owners.
Before the meeting I have plenty of positive tasks to focus on. Thanks to work drama I have the day off, which means finishing the baby quilt (9 days late), napping, catching up on chores, and maybe catching up on posting.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Sad co-op News
I've mentioned before how absolutely ecstatic I am about living in the co-op. Our housemates are priceless, our privacy is respected, and there are endless benefits to having nine people juggling household chores.
Sadly, there's a cloud to the silver lining. Remember my slightly mad ex-landlord, whose wacky antics included repeatedly breaking our toilet (to make it more "efficient"), delivering incomprehensible bills three months late, intruding without notice, and attempting to coerce tenants into signing leases before telling us how much he would be raising rent? Well, by some twist of fate he's financially involved in our co-op. And he's spent the past three months acting a total and absolute fool, pulling the sort of tricks one might expect to see in an early nineties sitcom.
For instance, when we needed to get a new fire insurance policy (the old policy expired and the company informed us they no longer carried that option), he offered to collect quotes. When we were only able to find one quote, we asked him to share the ones he claimed to have. He declined, so we requested and received permission from the board president to go with the policy available. The madman responded by canceling our fire insurance at a $200 loss, without informing anyone, and requesting that the refund check and all information be sent to his address.
That is one of his more sane, less devastating actions.
Instead of reacting logically to curb his power and activity, however, the board of directors has made a series of choices - each more audacious than the last - that is resulting in the technical dissolution of the co-op as an institution. Why? These people (none of whom, by some wacky turn of questionably legal events, have lived in the house for the past 30 years) are completely loony. After quite a bit of thought and analysis, that's honestly all I can come up with.
After months of fighting, everyone in the house pretty much gave up and surrendered to the fact that we are effectively renters. Fairly powerful renters who set, collect, and spend our own rent, but renters all the same. And I suspect there will be some big changes on how rent is managed in the next few months.
I've talked to a lawyer or two, but ultimately it doesn't look like the house members have the drive to fight this. The situation is so bizarre, twisted, and incoherent that it's hard to even begin to explain to a third party. Although we still reap the benefits of co-op living, the principles have been eradicated: we are no longer independent individuals who democratically manage our affairs as a household.
Darling and I intend to sit tight for a while and do everything we can to help re-create what is being destroyed. We love our home and we're happy here, but I think we might be preparing to bail if evil ex-and-practically-current landlord gets any more heavy-handed.
Sadly, there's a cloud to the silver lining. Remember my slightly mad ex-landlord, whose wacky antics included repeatedly breaking our toilet (to make it more "efficient"), delivering incomprehensible bills three months late, intruding without notice, and attempting to coerce tenants into signing leases before telling us how much he would be raising rent? Well, by some twist of fate he's financially involved in our co-op. And he's spent the past three months acting a total and absolute fool, pulling the sort of tricks one might expect to see in an early nineties sitcom.
For instance, when we needed to get a new fire insurance policy (the old policy expired and the company informed us they no longer carried that option), he offered to collect quotes. When we were only able to find one quote, we asked him to share the ones he claimed to have. He declined, so we requested and received permission from the board president to go with the policy available. The madman responded by canceling our fire insurance at a $200 loss, without informing anyone, and requesting that the refund check and all information be sent to his address.
That is one of his more sane, less devastating actions.
Instead of reacting logically to curb his power and activity, however, the board of directors has made a series of choices - each more audacious than the last - that is resulting in the technical dissolution of the co-op as an institution. Why? These people (none of whom, by some wacky turn of questionably legal events, have lived in the house for the past 30 years) are completely loony. After quite a bit of thought and analysis, that's honestly all I can come up with.
After months of fighting, everyone in the house pretty much gave up and surrendered to the fact that we are effectively renters. Fairly powerful renters who set, collect, and spend our own rent, but renters all the same. And I suspect there will be some big changes on how rent is managed in the next few months.
I've talked to a lawyer or two, but ultimately it doesn't look like the house members have the drive to fight this. The situation is so bizarre, twisted, and incoherent that it's hard to even begin to explain to a third party. Although we still reap the benefits of co-op living, the principles have been eradicated: we are no longer independent individuals who democratically manage our affairs as a household.
Darling and I intend to sit tight for a while and do everything we can to help re-create what is being destroyed. We love our home and we're happy here, but I think we might be preparing to bail if evil ex-and-practically-current landlord gets any more heavy-handed.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Burned Out
Today was spent working on a letter from my house to ex-residents. It's sensitive material that required a lot of thought, input, and editing. It took 6 hours and 45 minutes without a break...and it still needs cleaning up. My fingers are numb.
But I'm happy. Somehow, someday, I'll be doing this (writing) for a living.
But I'm happy. Somehow, someday, I'll be doing this (writing) for a living.
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