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Your prompt for #JusJoJan and Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “a rainy day.” Write about the first thing that comes to mind when you think of the phrase “a rainy day.”
Growing up, it was always a case of saving for a rainy day. I would religiously put one shilling of my two shilling pocket money into the post office and usually buy sweets with the rest.
In my teens, I had a little holiday job which paid £5 a week, and £2 went to Mum for my keep, £2 went into the post office for a rainy day, and the remaining pound was my mad money, which covered lunches and bus fares. Oh those were the days!
In later life, saving became a rule of thirds, and has stuck. Saving for a rainy day became saving for a torrent when we got caught in negative equity with our first house in the 1990s. But we overcame all of that, yet still the rule of thirds was our mantra and we continued to save, though to be honest, we didn’t really know what for. Any rainy day we could usually cover without raiding the savings pot.
Being made redundant and then Hubby also losing his job made us more determined to manage on what we had coming in rather than borrow up to the hilt as I already knew from past experience how difficult it was to pay back.
Today we are thinking saving for a rainy day is a waste of time. There is no incentive as regards interest on your savings, and I can assure you that if I had £20,000 a year surplus on my income, the last place I would put it is in an ISA.
When I think of the years Hubby and I went without luxuries like holidays, socialising, a decent car (until 1999 when for the next 5 years we changed our cars four times) or enjoying ourselves, although I am glad we are in the position we are now with no mortgage or debt of any description, I resent those who whinge about not being able to manage on salaries I could only dream of.
Over to you Babs