I hate money. Seriously.
Sure, we are managing OK at the moment, but just as we seem to be making progress, a problem presents itself and I’m checking out the pennies again.
Many people think that to eat healthily costs a fortune. Not necessarily, but like everything else, it depends on what you like to eat, and whether or not you like caviar I suppose.
According to my food spreadsheet, this month to date, I have spent almost £15 on salad stuff, plus another £10 on other veg and fruit. That alone is almost twice what I spent in total in January, February, March and April, and we are only half way through the month.
However, on the up side (or down side depending on which end of the see-saw of life you’re sitting on) the treat sheet has plummeted nicely, I more than halved it for May and June has the total amount of £1.60 on it being chocolate for Hubby.
Swings and roundabouts.
Food budgeting I can usually juggle, but it’s the surprises that catch most of us out, and we are no exception.
We’ve booked and paid for our ticket for the river festival at Stratford Upon Avon, and had planned to leave here on the 28th June, giving us four days for the trip, three days at the festival, and three days back.
Remember my post from way back about making plans? Recap here if you wish.
That is now in jeopardy as we have a problem with the gear box mechanics on the boat, insomuch as a rattle that shouldn’t be there as we move forward, but is absent in idle or reverse. Better to lose £25 for an unused ticket than face a bill of £2000 plus for a new gear box or upwards of £5000 for a new engine, plus recovery.
The guy is coming to look at it next week, and we should be covered by our three year warranty. However, the bill has to be paid immediately, and we will be reimbursed when the warranty repair is approved. Ah.
It’s pointless asking the bank for a loan for the job as we have no credit rating now, and anyway, with our limited income, I can already hear the laughter echoing through the town, so it’s a good job we have a little bit in reserve and can cover the cost. It’s what I’m good at, saving for a rainy day, or in this case the possibility of a major boat repair.
We are not the only ones to comment though that purchasing items for a boat (or caravan) seems to entitle the seller to put a 1 in front of the price, or add an extra zero on the end.
Little things (literally) like a washing up bowl is something like £12, yet I purchased a plastic mixing bowl for a pound which is the perfect size. My full size gas cooker here to purchase new is over £800, as is the 12 volt fridge. In comparison, my cooker for the house cost £440 (now with MOH) and a new fridge just over £100. You can purchase a hob plate for less than £100 from many of the DIY outlets, but want one for a boat, two, three or four burners? £200-£400, more if you want a lid, though of course you can get them for less if you can shop around on-line.
Replacement windows, double glazed units or new doors are a phenomenal price, more than a single item for a house, which is why Hubby made his own porthole frames.
As with food shopping for a single chop or chicken breast, individual tin of soup or vegetables, the smaller the item, the more expensive.
Crockery, furnishings, carpets, shelves, baskets, even coat hooks, anything from the specialist outlet costs. The argument of course is size. We live in a life of miniature.
I worked with the stuff for years and the word that pi55ed me off more than anything else was ‘ONLY’ on cheques.
Today, it is ‘Well It’ll ONLY cost………’, or in TV land ‘Only one four nine nine’, instead of fourteen hundred and ninety nine pounds, or one thousand four hundred and ninety nine pounds, or just a pound less than fifteen hundred quid! It’s all in the narrative and presentation isn’t it. After all, £1.99 sounds so much less than £2 and we’re only talking a single penny in difference.
Don’t get me wrong, I know some extremely nice people who are totally loaded, but it’s the person I care about, not their bank balance. Then again I know some totally loaded people who are complete dorks and have no idea of the price of biscuits as they hire someone else to do the shopping.
In my banking days, a hundred thousand pounds was a lot, and we’d shake in our boots at the mention of a million. Now it’s not even billions, but trillions.
Money. Yeah, right. Just a matter of 0000000s, but who’s counting?