but it's a photo to hold you over 'til I can focus again.


Looks like all the poking and prodding about my being next was rather a bit more informed than my tart replies of: not anytime soon!

Dodging and weaving did me no good.  After days of being cooped up with at least two sickies over the holidays, my immune system has succumbed, and so has PiC's. He's scheduled to be off anyway but I've been working from home to avoid taking sick time or falling too much behind.

It's not just a major pain in the caboose being fluish, which is it.  It's that the energy drain somehow touches off this chain reaction of pain and joint flare-ups so that even though honestly, I don't feel *that* sick and would normally go in, I have to baby myself because my body's teetering on a precipice of a severe flare-up.  As is, I'm one-hand Manny as my whole right side's on strike. PiC keeps asking if he should feed me. [*sigh* Not yet, thank you.]

A severe flare-up goes a little something like this: imagine someone's stuck a tube in you and drained all the fluid out of you.  Then smacked a fire hot length of tubing on all major joints several times. Twisted and cracked all the minor joints, and has got all your muscles randomly and persistently hooked up to electrodes that send entirely the wrong signal to twitch and shriek helpless protestations to a brain that desperately says: "breathe! relax! breathe! OWWW!"

It tends to move in for about two or more weeks at a time. No short pop ins here.

So yeah, no thanks. If I have to be a big fat wussy who stays home because "a-heh-a-heh, I hef a leetle cough" lest that comes to town?  I'm staying home and grateful I can work from home, grateful I can rest in between times and darned tooting I'm grateful for a most excellent partner who understands the pain and powers through his symptoms to tend to my nearly invisible ones. 

I hate being sick but it could totally be worse.

Not long after my return from the UK, PiC surprised me with a visit to a not quite so local spa. Normally, I schedule my therapeutic massage appointments according to a fairly strict set of PF-guided rules:

1. Very local (to combat the psychological barrier of laziness - I won't drag myself out to go),
2. Must be some deal that works out to paying about $50 or less for an hour,
3. Doesn't have to be exceedingly highly rated because if they're new, it should still be pretty good, but it can't have already gotten bad reviews.

Flying in the face of all of these, he'd just looked for the most highly rated spa in what he considers a reasonable radius, booked an appointment for me, and told me we were going some place I'd never heard of, in a city that was too far away in my opinion but it didn't matter because I wasn't driving, and told me to be ready to leave by a certain time.

He'd already even paid for the massage so I couldn't cancel it, insisting that it priced comparably with any other 60-minute massage.  Me, feebly, "but, that's regular price!"  Realized I didn't even know what appointment was booked after we got there, but as I was ushered from the usual, semi-generic front room to the women's dressing room (!!) it stopped mattering.

Women's dressing room? Wha?  My Groupon massages have you undress in the massage room that's good enough for me... warmed robes? Slippers in a variety of sizes?  A vanity complete with hairdressing supplies for after? Lockers for your belongings?   Befuddlement changed to bemusement.

And of course you shuffle to the next room, berobed and beslippered, into a lounge complete with cushy seats, to sip cucumber water, teas, and nibble on biscotti and muffiny things.

By the time I got to the actual massage, which was the first massage I've had since moving that came close to relieving much of my chronic pain in a single session owing much to the skill and technique of my practitioner, not just the warm table, hot towels and prewarmed lotions, I was a muddle of "I should have put more into my FSA."

To conclude the visit, they even had a small shower room with shower products that flung me back to the early days of dating PiC, ironically enough.  Not leave a massage with lion hair? Yes please!

As much as I'm about stretching every nickel and dime, I'm absolutely tempted to come back to that massage experience even at almost twice my accepted price point.  Yes, I know, lifestyle inflation, but ...!

Then again, as I try to gently detach my attachment to the new place, honesty compels me to admit I've been cheap on the massage front.  I've only been lukewarm about all of the massages I've had since moving; they haven't been very effective because the practitioners I've tried so far haven't been more than ok. This one was the best one not just in comparison but actually practically compares to my friend, the therapist who once routinely pulled all my knots out by dint of knowing me, my medical history and my pain problems.  Add to that my reluctance to schedule appointments and I haven't actually been spending the budget on worthwhile massages.

This may be a case of being too cheap for my own good.

At best, I might manage one appointment per month or two.  In a year, that'd cost between $600-1200.  That's quite high.  But in combination with an exercise regimen that expands in scope with each improvement I make, that's better health and less medication to take.  And taking the long view, if I'm going to get massages, I might as well get the ones that work, no?

Whether or not I ever go back, I'm just happy that it was entirely entertaining to be pampered and that I don't take one ounce of it for granted.

We'll be doing two weekends of family stuff in a row so I'm looking forward to clearing my head after that and having a fresh start.  [Lots of stress to be read in between those lines.]

Since I inadvertently skipped my November Snapshot, next week's year-end roundup will be enlightening and possibly frightening.  Let's hope not, though. [Submitting my receipts from the business trip would have been helpful...]

Whatever holiday you celebrate this season, I wish you the very best.

After some months in which PiC was so over-generous in treating his family that I cannot even write down the numbers here, PiC and I are well into our new quest to keep our grocery and eating out bills down to an almost unimaginable $400/month. 

Much like 444 Express, we're making an effort to go through the foods in our cabinets, and I've been keeping certain staples in stock for our new go-to recipes that are delicious, versatile and last a heck of a long time.

I adapted this Full-Bodied Tomato Soup from Not Quite Nigella, tripling the garlic because we loooove garlic.  Dropping the meatballs keeps the cost down to about $5 per large pot of six or ten servings and we really didn't notice any difference.  We did add a half cup of orzo to the last batch and it took over the entire soup like a mad mutation. By the third bowl, it was just a pasta dish. I'm not sure we should do that again.

I'm sort of considering adding some of our 99 cent per box tofu to the next serving, just to see if it's weird or if it works.  Thoughts?  In original form, the soup was excellent by itself or as a side to my constant stream of cheese quesadillas.  Mmm....  

Managing to continually rotate a menu that includes fresh produce without wasting food due to spoilage is tougher than it should be with modern conveniences, but between a busy work schedule and my inherent laziness about eating balanced meals if I'm tired, I admit to failing more often than not of late.  Still, we're fighting the good fight, and the more new recipes I find, the more interested and invested I can be in the process.


If anyone is interested in hosting the Carnival of Personal Finance, please be sure to volunteer!

Apparently, the only bakeware in this place is a cookie sheet and pie tin. This fact never fails to surprise me when I desperately need a slice of cake or cupcakes. Thank goodness for the pie tin, though, it's a fair enough substitute vessel for the following simple lemon cake recipe I stole off the internet (Yahoo Answers). It's not a pretty picture but it fits the silliness of cake in a pie tin:

1/2 cup butter, melted
1 cup sugar
2 eggs, well beaten
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 cup milk
1/3 cup lemon juice
1/4 cup sugar

Mix together sugar and butter.
Add eggs and 1 tablespoon of lemon juice; mix well.
Add salt, flour, and baking powder to mixture.
Add milk.
Bake at 325°F in a well greased loaf pan for 1 hour or until golden brown.
Mix 1/3 cup lemon juice and 1/4 cup sugar.
Use a toothpick to poke holes in top of cake and drizzle lemon juice and sugar mixture over the top of the cake when removed from the oven.
Serve warm or cool.

Baked in a pie tin, it only took 37 minutes to reach perfection and another ten minutes of cooling while soaking in the lemon&sugar mixture. We ate half of it immediately. #pigs 

It's strange how little things like finally having enough staples on hand to bake something from scratch, despite flailing for a thing to bake it in, makes this place feel a little bit more like a home to me.

It'll be a year in April, and it still feels like I'm a stranger in a foreign land, most days.

In any season, I think it's appropriate to think of others, actually, but this is particularly timely for a few reasons.  My good friend and fellow blogger J. Money of BudgetsAreSexy.com has been toiling long and hard on this fantastic project called LoveDrop.

It's a micro-giving network intended to target people in need, one person or family per month, and surprise them with a bundle of financial gifts and other assistance.  This started as very much a grassroots campaign, so although it's not a not-for-profit organization and your contributions aren't tax deductible, it's for a very good cause.  The project officially launches on January first, but it's certainly open for people to purchase a subscription and get involved.

The group does have to pay taxes so the ratio of your contributions breaks down as follows: 50% to the recipients, 20% to taxes and 30% to organizational overhead.

Score one for transparency, and ten points to these guys for pursuing their passion of changing the world, one 'drop at a time!

And to add to the mix, just as I completed the last touches on this post, I heard that LoveDrop co-founder and friend J. had been fired.  Frankly, given all the projects in his head that need birthing with so few hours in the day, it couldn't have happened to a better man. So consider supporting the cause and becoming a member because wouldn't it be fantastic to help one of our own realize a dream of making the world a better place?  

It's probably been twenty years since I last had a Christmas tree and just the prospect of getting one this year was delicious.

Negotiations were intense, and short-lived.  Within ten minutes of wandering the tree lot, and squealing over the cuteness of the under three footers, my shopping ADD kicked in and PiC was asked to please make the final call because I was bored with fussing over which tree was perfect enough.

Imperfections are character and had I not mentioned the twenty year drought?  Any tree is an improvement over the no-tree of yesteryear.  Low expectations, indeed.  Happily, we had ended up in the discount tree section by then, points to PiC for navigating so that I'm not both the penny-pinching miser and the impatient hausfrau.

Even with the discount, we (probably mistakenly) paid extra for a disposal bag, bowl and stand, checking out at $34.

With that extra expenditure over the $20 or $25 I imagined we'd spend, I'm perfectly happy to enjoy the tree in all its natural glory, and hang gifts from its branches if it can bear up.  As a topper, Cthulhu shall preside.

It hardly seems to need anything else now, does it?

Frugal Scholar's rather pragmatic look at Pet Costs triggered my usual, utterly emotional, I want a dog now! reaction.

I really miss my dog back home. I haven't talked myself into bring her up north because there's just no room for her to lounge.  She is, after all, accustomed to a certain way of life. And let's face it, momma's girl or not, if momma isn't home, what's the point of making her live in a relatively cramped inside space?

She's really not built for living indoors - she gets squirrelly and waits by the door to be let out with ever increasing impatience whenever she's done visiting inside.  Even though she was raised as an indoor dog, she up and decided quite early on that she was moving into the garage. Up here we've got zero yard, and very little outdoor space. It's hard to imagine her being happy with us in the Bay Area.

In an entirely selfish and practical sense, if we weren't just thinking about what might make her happy, it still seems like the most sensible thing to do is to bring her up here rather than adding to the family. And that would have the additional benefit of easing my little-spoken-of responsibility of finding my parents a new home as they couldn't really have moved in to any sort of assisted care facility with a big dog (or two, since idiot sibling is still around with his dog).

That's another thing for another day.  

The thing is, after owning dogs for 17 years now and having worked with animals for a good part of my twenties, it's a cold fact that they're expensive when anything happens. And I never want to be in the position of asking myself: can I afford this medical procedure?  Those decisions should be made based on whether it's right for my pet, not whether it'll put us in a poorhouse.  So while it's enough that I maintain a medical fund for her now, if I ever wanted to adopt another dog, I would seriously consider getting a second job in animal health care for the discount because it's so freaking expensive.

That or I honestly need to be making quite a lot more money than I do now to afford another pet.

When did I turn into my parents?  I'm almost positive they used this line of reasoning with me when I was seven and it all sounded like gibberish and insanity twenty years ago. 

After all is said and done, we spent an insane amount of money preparing for this business trip.  INSANE.

I will definitely use everything that was purchased for many years to come because they are all high-quality materials, and I most certainly used them every single day on this trip so far and wouldn't have survived it without, but I still cannot believe the total cost at the end of the day.

My clothing cost at least $600.  PiC won't tell me how much my surprise warm fuzzy boots cost, but I know the coat was nearly $500.  None of the coats I ordered from Lands' End (I ordered four to try on as they don't carry petites in store) fit well, nor were they as flexible.  The one he ran out and bought can be unzipped to be just a down or just a raincoat as well as zipped together, and it's got a lifetime guarantee.  Add in new waterproof, lined gloves, a hat, and very thick woolly socks (on sale) to round out the total.

My tech cost another $700. The computer was nearly $400 and then I ended paying through the nose for a 3-pack of the Microsoft Suite which I intended to skip installing except our servers wouldn't let me access my work email in any way shape or form via anything BUT the installed program. It's never given me that much trouble before, and on the eve of travel, it kicked up such a fuss, I couldn't risk it.

Web-only access continued to be a serious problem throughout the trip so it's a good thing I did install the suite because I would not have been able to work and that's a huuuuge no-no. 

And of course, the tote bag didn't show up until I was long gone had to be replaced by another one, so I had to hie me to REI for something waterproof and over the shoulder/cross body in the absence of anything lightweight and professional looking.  Found it for $80.  *sigh*

Honest to goodness, I really should have considered all these costs when scheduling the work trip, not just when it would be slightly less inconvenient to be away from the office.  What a huge pain to have spent well over a thousand dollars and wasted all that time shopping and fretting.  It was an unusual week and the snow made for an unusual trip and it was an awful lot of fun.  But that's an offsetting benefit you can't really expense against the costs.

I've just been minding the cost of meals out down to recoup some of the per diem money even if it is just a drop in the bucket. Every little bit counts!

*** Whoops! Meant to post this before I left! ***

Half of our Christmas shopping is done, and now that I'm business trip-bound for two weeks, the other half must rest on PiC's shoulders lest we shop on the week before Christmas. I'm awfully proud of the bit that I accomplished, though! 

Some time ago, I'd discovered the lovely Lesley of GeekSoap fame, and I was bound and determined to share the wonder of Geeksoap with my friends for Christmas.

Turns out, most of the soaps I ordered are now wrapped for PiC's friends because somehow, he's infinitely less geeky than me and still gathered more geeky friends around him.  Our dynamic continues to baffle me.

At a nearly standard soap size, these lovelies don't merit a whole box. I have small boxes, they're not nearly that small.  For the folks who only get one bar (one lucky fella's getting four), I decided to repurpose odd-sized wrapping paper to craft my own gift bags instead of running out to buy them at $2 a piece or a pack.



Armed with a Swiss Army and glue stick, it was all pretty much executed by eye and estimation.  There was at least one major gaffe where I forgot to account for the fold at the bottom part of the "bag" so I had to glue two squares together because I'd gone and carefully cut out perfectly estimated squares that would perfectly surround the soap.  Those bags didn't have enough paper to fold over like above, so I popped a couple holes in using a star shaped hole punch leftover from crafting days and tied it shut with a ribbon.

The post-it will be replaced by a sticker, surely, unless it's going to one of my friends in which case it's an inside joke to just address gifts via post-its.

A quick photo montage .....

My first few days were spent in the country getting snowed on, so of course we had to walk the wide open fields with the dogs who romped in the snow.  (This was only the first day.)


My first ride in a London cab was great. The cabbie zipped around all the local spots he could without veering off the path to our destination, showing us the park, stopping for me to snap a shot of Big Ben, and the church where Prince William and Kate will be married.