• Frugal Living

    How to go on a Dollar Diet

    May 28, 2018

    Long-term readers of my previous blog Tots in Tawhero will know that a few years ago my family and I embarked on what I call the Dollar Diet.  A reader asked if I was still doing the Dollar Diet, and I’m happy to report that yes, yes I am.

    cash, coins, money

    The Dollar Diet is very simple: only spend money on necessities.  Easy, right?

    I had already significantly reigned in my former spendthrift ways when we first attempted a Dollar Diet.  In the past I was careless with managing my money and got into debt at various times.  It was shameful and stressful and my strategy of burying my head in the sand had to go.  It wasn’t an overnight transformation, but slowly and surely I got better at saving more and spending less.

    I got married to Mr G, and we both earned reasonable money.  Mr G is pretty good at money management but we found we weren’t saving as much as we could.  We then had kids.  I decided to stay at home with the kids – at least until they were at school – so we went down to one income.  It was still perfectly liveable, as Mr G got decent money as a software developer.  However, not long after we married, Mr G felt called to become a minister for the Presbyterian church.

    Even though the minister thing has been years in the making, learning to thrive on one, low income drove me to try the Dollar Diet.  I knew we could do better with less, and salt some savings away.  I knew we could track our spending better and plug the holes on our budget.  I had some specific savings goals that year (like a trip to Australia), but the idea of getting into a mindful spending groove over the course of a whole year really appealed.

    In the first year of the Dollar Diet I had lofty goals – there would be NO extras.  No cafe visits, no store-bought gifts, no paid subscriptions of any kind, no new clothes.  You get the picture.  I didn’t quite get there, but I had a lot of fun along the way.

    It’s true in a 1984-esque way: There is freedom in restriction.

    With restrictions on how I spent my time and money, my creativity was given free reign.  I cooked up a storm.  I sewed (very badly).  I learned how to make jam and chutney.  We threw frugal parties.  I grew a veggie garden.  Mr G learned how to DIY gates and fences.  I even upcycled some curtains a la Maria Von Trapp.  For real.

    But I also learned that it’s hard to find time to make gifts from scratch when you have little ones who catch all.the.illnesses.  Unexpected events and invitations happened.  I learned to make gifts waaay ahead of when they were needed because of this.  Most importantly, I learned how important it was to have a fun line in our budget, because I have a deep-seated need to have things to look forward to in my life, and scrimping and saving can get a bit grim at times.

    Today my family needs the Dollar Diet more than ever, because there’s very little room for extras in our new, reduced-income budget.  The Dollar Diet helps us to define our priorities, and takes away some of the stress of making ends meet.  I’ve long since shed many of the trappings that first-world society tells us we need to be happy and successful – no, I don’t need a fancy car, or an iPhone, or to attend a yoga retreat on Bora Bora.  I actually find it fun to see how much I can shave off my grocery budget for the week, and finding ways to do what I want for free or cheaply.

    Before I show you what this year’s Dollar Diet looks like for me, let me caveat this by saying that even though my family and I are now living on that much-reduced minister’s income, I’m still coming from a place of privilege.  We own a home in our previous town and have no mortgage.  Money from renting this out pays for much of our rent here in Pleasant Point.  We have savings.  We don’t have debt.  Despite Mr G’s salary halving this year, we’re still not on the poverty line.

    Okay?  Onto this year’s Dollar Diet!

    The Dollar Diet is simple.  Buy what you NEED.  Think long and hard before buying what you WANT.  Is it necessary?  Can you do without it?  Can you borrow it instead?  Can you wait while you save up for it?  Even NEEDS can be slimmed down by growing your own fruit and veg, or bartering and borrowing when possible.

    My ‘needs’ will be different to yours, no doubt, but that’s the beauty of the Dollar Diet.  What are your non-negotiables?

    My 2018 list 

    • Rent  (For the first time in a few years we have to pay rent.  We pay $250 a week for the massive manse we get to live in during Mr G’s internship.  This rent is offset a bit from income from our rental home, but we still have to pay rates and maintenance from the rent income.)
    • Groceries (I typically spend around $150 for our family of four, which is well below the national average of $230 a week, but I know I can get this much lower at times when necessary).
    • Electricity, firewood (Our current house is like most NZ homes – poorly insulated and freezing, so our power bill is rather frightening.  We were so grateful for a generous gift of firewood!)
    • Internet/phone/cellphones
    • Netflix (Hi, my name is Angela and I like to binge watch Occupied and Zoo.  There, I said it.)
    • Insurances (life, home contents, vehicle, house)
    • Petrol, vehicle maintenance
    • Rates (for our house in Whanganui)
    • School fees ($100 a year, plus 4 term activity fees)
    • Extracurricular activities for the kids (E does dancing – paid for by a grandparent- and Pippins; D does soccer.  E currently hates putting her head under the water, so swim lessons next term are probably in order so she can keep up with her class.)
    • Sponsor children (2)
    • Doctor’s visits & prescriptions, dentist visits
    • Gifts (making what I possibly can myself)
    • Haircuts (I only get my hair cut 2 or 3 times a year)
    • Moisturizer, foundation, bug spray (mozzies LOVE me), undies, watertight shoes (why oh why is it so hard to get decent shoes anymore!  Mine always fall apart after a couple of years wear), a few items of warm clothing (secondhand) – A
    •  A few invention gizmos, a few items of warm clothing – Mr G
    • Garden maintenance 
    • Chicken feed
    • Clothing (secondhand or free whenever possible), shoes, underwear for the children
    • 2 short holidays away (free or low-cost accommodation where possible).  Holidays are a luxury, but Mr G and I both recognise the value of making memories with our kids.  We aim to give them experiences instead of toys.
    • A small fun budget: to fund the odd takeaway/outing/school holiday activities
    • Big Goal: family trip to Australia for BFF’s wedding next January.  (We’re keeping this as low-cost as possible by avoiding pricey tourist activities, and staying in cheap and free accommodation.  Travel insurance is free under Mr G’s credit card programme.)

    It’s the things that aren’t on the list that save you money.  No buying lunch everyday.  No takeaway coffees each morning.  No splurging $300 on a pair of shoes that are almost the same as the pair you already own.  No mindless following of ‘fashion’.  No buying a new outfit for a special occasion when you have plenty of options in your wardrobe.  No buying takeaways just because you don’t feel like cooking.  Getting rid of magazine subscriptions, gym subscriptions, any subscription that you don’t honestly use.  No buying books (that’s why libraries were invented) or pretty tchotchkes for your home.  No greeting cards and wrapping paper.  No lavish gifts.  No recipes requiring pricey ingredients.  No expensive holidays.  No meeting up with friends for brunch at an expensive cafe.  No costly plays, concerts, exhibitions. No extravagant hobbies (unless it makes you money or saves your sanity).

    The fun and the challenge comes from trying to find free or frugal alternatives to keep living the good life.  Instead of going out for brunch, host a pancake breakfast for your friends.  Take up running or workout to YouTube clips instead of going to a gym.  Pack your own lunch and your coffee for work.  Have a meal or two in the freezer for the nights when you are too tired to cook.

    I’ll be getting back to my weekly frugal report.  It’s a powerful tool which keeps me on the straight and narrow.  Speaking of tools, two other important items in my frugal toolbelt are Goodbudget *(we use the free version) which is an envelope budgeting app that updates in real time; and a weekly family meeting where we discuss how we’ve been tracking for the week.  Sometimes this is a tad painful, but it certainly reigns me in.

    So stay tuned, I hope that some of my adventures in frugality will help my readers out there.

    Pink and White Ceramic Pig Coin Bank

     

    *We prefer Goodbudget but any app will do!

     

     

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  • Faith,  Family,  Frugal Living,  Parenting

    Woah, we’re halfway there!

    February 28, 2018
    My favourite tree in Point (Is that even a thing, to have favourite trees?)

     

    Hey world, I’m back!  Since my tots are no longer in Tawhero, I decided to wipe the slate clean and start a new site charting life in our new town of Pleasant Point.  If you’ve been a Tots in Tawhero reader, I’d love you to stick with me over here.  You can do so by liking Living on a Prayer on Facebook, or subscribing below.

     

    Why Living on a Prayer? 

    Let me publicly confess that YES, I am a Bon Jovi fan, and I have nailed that song many, many times during karaoke sessions.  And by nailed it, I mean I sounded like a dying cat.   Sorry, Jon.

    But lest you think I shall be blogging about how totally awesome mullets and acid-washed jeans were,  the name actually refers to the new situation my family and I are in – knee deep in church ministry.  My husband, who will now henceforth be called ‘Mr G’, decided way back in 2011, that he felt called to become a minister for the Presbyterian church.  After much blood, sweat and tears, two kids, more tears, lots of sweat and maybe a little blood, he added a qualification in ‘knowing lots of stuff about Jesus’ to his long list of qualifications.  Mr G is sole-charge of a sweet little congregation here in Pleasant Point, as he completes a two-year process as an ministry intern.  You can call him a not-quite-Rev, but I prefer ’embryo parson’ (shout out to all my Cold Comfort Farm fellow fans).

    I am the ‘not-quite-Minister’s wife’.  My kids are the ‘not-quite-Minister’s kids’.  Gulp!

    Living on a Prayer also refers to the fact that Mr G has taken a huge pay cut to become a minister, and he’s the sole breadwinner for now.  My long-time followers will know that I enjoy living a frugal lifestyle, and am looking forward to the challenges that our new life will bring.  Relying on God to provide – really, truly relying on God – isn’t something this pair of middle-class, educated folk have been used to, and it’s been a humbling realisation for Mr G and I.  So you can expect me to continue sharing my frugal doings – and I hope also sharing stories of God’s provision for our family.

    So how’s it all going?

    After the.most.hideously.stressful.move.ever, thanks to our terrible moving company, I arrived in Pleasant Point ahead of Mr G and the kids, with broken belongings and high blood pressure.  I was scooped up into the arms of the lovely church ladies who sheltered me for a night, helped me unpack, fed me, and generally soothed my blood pressure back to normal.  One lady had even made my kids presents as her way of welcoming them!  Folks, THIS is what church is all about.  THIS is what they do well here.

    We’ve settled in.  The people are nice – I already have friends!  It’s a pretty spot, surrounded by more pretty spots, which neighbour upon some of the most gob-smacking scenery on the planet.  Needless to say, I’m enjoying life here immensely.

    Church of the Good Shepherd, Tekapo

    Here are some observations I’ve made:

    • If you call this place Pleasant Point, you are immediately flagging yourself as an outsider.  Pointsiders (I just made that up, umm, Pointers?  Pointizens?) simply call it ‘Point’, as in “Yeah, my kid goes to Point Primary, ” or  “I grew up in Point.”  Timaru (the nearest big town) is called ‘Town’.

     

    • No, they don’t roll their ‘r’s here.  I’ve checked.  But the local cafe does make a mean cheese roll.

     

    • I suck at predicting the weather here.  I have no idea what it’s doing.  But, I don’t feel bad, because clearly neither does the weather.  In one week it was so hot I considered taking up residence in our fridge/freezer, immediately followed by needing to dig out my winter coat and wondering where I put the matches to light the fire.  In ONE week!

     

    • The people here are mostly hard-working, practical farming folk.  See that lady in her 60’s walking her dogs?  Boom!  She’s actually 93.  That middle-aged man lifting bales of hay?  Boom!  He’s 86.  True story bro.  They don’t want to talk about your feelings or your latest hippie venture – it’s not that they don’t care, but there’s work to be done.

     

    • I am not merely an older mum here, I am frigging geriatric!  Most mums here are blond, pony tail sporting glamazons who were clearly child brides, because I’m pretty sure they’re all 23.  Either that, or I seriously need to get the number of their botox provider.

     

    • It’s like everyone remembers New Zealand being in ‘the good old days’.  I’ve been here two months and know loads of people.  People know their neighbours.  There’s little crime.  No graffiti.  No hoodie-clad teenagers misspending their youth.  You can leave your bike outside a shop without fear of someone nicking it.  It’s safe enough to ride a bike here.  CHILDREN PLAY OUTSIDE AND RIDE BIKES WITHOUT ADULT SUPERVISION.  Because it’s safe.

     

    • Point has all I need.  Point may only be home to about 1,300 people but it has two schools, a health centre, a bike park, a hairdresser, public swimming pools, a supermarket, a pub, a dress shop, a cafe,  a taxidermist’s, a railway museum, several playgrounds, scenic trails and more.  And I can WALK to it all.

     

    So walk with me as we navigate our new life in Point.  At the moment Mr G and I feel like kids dressed up in suits and ties – our new roles don’t quite fit right, but we hope by the end of the two years, they will.

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