Welcome to Money Diaries where we are tackling the ever-present taboo that is money. We’re asking real people how they spend their hard-earned money during a seven-day period — and we’re tracking every last dollar.
Today: a senior personal property appraiser, judge, lecturer and writer who has a $57,398 joint income and who spends some of her money this week on a 1920s woodburning stove.
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Occupation: Senior personal property appraiser, judge, lecturer, writer
Industry: General appraising, cultural history, and crafts
Age: 65
Location: Fort Garland, CO
Salary: $57,398 joint income. My husband, D., and I have kept our money together in the same accounts since our marriage in 1981. After we sold our previous house in 2021, we started smaller separate stock accounts — but that’s the only time we’ve ever had any accounts separate.
Assets: Checking: $1,500; stock accounts: $750; Lending Club: $6,200; investment account: ~$50,000; two annuities: ~$450,000; house with 10 acres of land: ~$330,000; truck: $10,000; trailer: $10,000; plus some investments in art and antiques. My husband and I share all accounts.
Debt: $4,500 (house loan — it should be paid off by year’s end).
Paycheck amount: My income: $2,029-$2,500 (as earned, based on self-employment; this can be $200-$800 each time). Pension and social security payments: $3,658 (1x/month). Other than my income, which varies all over the place, we have a fixed income every month. Knowing that makes it easier to plan ahead for large expenses like property tax and insurance. It also means, though, that I have to watch my impulse buys — even if they’re on sale.
Pronouns: She/her
Monthly Expenses
Housing costs: $0, except for $4,500 remaining on a $20,000 house loan from our kids. We own our home, located on 10 acres.
Loan payments: $300 toward the house loan, but we pay $600-$900 instead.
Utilities: $80 electric; $60 internet; $40 trash pickup, $50 propane (we heat nearly all of the time with wood but like to keep the propane tank full and ready). Also: $200 or so for insurance on both the house and the truck.
Business: About $150 — this includes computer supplies, shipping supplies and costs, iCloud fees (for appraisal report photos, which I’m required to keep for five to seven years), website fees, various subscriptions, and my membership, class and recertification fees in the American Quilter’s Society and American Society of Appraisers, my appraisal organizations.
Max 401(k) & after-tax contributions: $0 (I plan to start this up again after the house loan is paid off).
Pet spend: $20 (mostly just dog food and snacks for our dog, Ruby).
Gas: $200
Health insurance & FSA: $23.84 x2
Cell phone: $100
Amazon Prime: $25 (shared with our younger daughter, A., and son-in-law, K. We don’t pay for any other streaming services and watch free channels like Tubi and Pluto instead).
Credit card fees: $0 — we pay cards off each month. In 42+ years, we’ve only paid interest once or twice.
Was there an expectation for you to attend higher education? Did you participate in any form of higher education? If yes, how did you pay for it?
Although they never insisted on it, I got the feeling my parents wanted both my brother and myself to go to college. My dad only completed eighth grade but was a voracious reader. My mom attended a semester of nursing school and flunked out; she then did a year of college. They were small-time farmers and I knew they had little money for it — which meant that if I was going, I was going to have to earn a lot of that money myself. I was lucky to earn scholarships and grants. I also worked any job I could find during college, including babysitting, housecleaning, secretarial work for an accountant during tax time, working at a pick-your-own apple orchard, and schlepping garbage in the college cafeteria on Sundays. My parents were kind to help out with the rest, bless them. By my junior year, I commuted from home and worked as a waitress, and spent my summer as an au pair for missionary cousins in Austria. Senior year, I moved in with off-campus friends and was a backpacking/rock-climbing guide in New Hampshire during the summers before and after. I also continued to pick up any job I could find, including tutoring and typing papers for students. I also taught a college class in children’s literature (yes, as a student) and managed the Children’s Book Fair, a big conference the college hosted each year. During breaks and vacation, I worked at a hardware store. One spring break, I helped install lightning rods on the gymnasium at Michigan Tech University. Perfect experiences for a growing writer. I wanted to go on to grad school, intending on going into publishing. I was accepted at the University of Michigan, which meant in-state tuition. Parents said they’d cover it, if I could take care of living expenses. I got a job living with the family of a professor; I cleaned their house, babysat their daughter and occasionally helped cater and serve at parties. In return, I lived in the attic (like Cinderella!) rent-free and got one meal a day — two, if I came home at noon and walked the dog. A generous friend boarded at a nearby commune and would ask me to eat with him. I also ate at a Chinese restaurant that served a mean bowl of fried rice for only $1.25. One day D., an engineering student newly arrived from the navy, shared my table — and I married him. I graduated debt-free (thanks, Mom and Dad!) and married a week after I turned in my final master’s paper. Six years of service in the navy got D. access to GI Bill funds. We were too free with concerts, movies and going out to eat, instead of keeping things tight, like I’d done for years. He graduated with $10,000 in student loans but we paid that off within the next five or so years.
Growing up, what kind of conversations did you have about money? Did your parent(s)/guardian(s) educate you about finances?
From the start, my parents were very open about not having much — and making it stretch. (Because my dad was Dutch, we called it “being a good Hollander.” Then we would brag about bargains, or moan about being “poor and needy.”) Mom and Dad never insisted or even suggested it but my brother and I knew if we wanted some things, we would have to work for them — so we did. I remember being taken to the bank to open a savings account, and having them suggest splitting up my money: 50% in the bank (for college), 10% for donating, and the rest for expenses. This worked so well that my first year in college was largely paid for by these funds. Although we can’t put away 50% today (I wish!), we have tithed 10% of our income consistently, and can usually save 10%-25%, depending on expenses that month. D. and I have kept our money together in the same accounts since our marriage 42.5 years ago, although we have separate accounts we use for purchasing stocks. Both sets of parents were extraordinarily generous over the years, helping out with their money and time. They also loaned us money now and then, which we repaid with interest (our choice, not theirs). After my dad died, we began sending Mom $50 monthly, on the theory that she needed “fun money” (it was really trying to pay her back for the sacrifices they’d made paying for my college). We also hired a bimonthly housecleaner for her. We increased the monthly payment to $100 during her final year and secretly paid several of her household expenses as well. I was lucky to find a husband who said, “She’s my mom, too… And we’re going to take care of her.”
What was your first job and why did you get it?
I babysat from a young age; my little brother and I also sold raspberries and sweet corn from a stand in front of our farm. I occasionally cleaned house for people, helped my mom during catering gigs (funerals and weddings), did haying and other jobs on the farm. When I was 15, I got a job at the local hardware store, four days a week after school (Thursday was my day off) and all day Saturday. I worked this all through high school but also during college breaks and holidays in undergrad. Fond memories resurface whenever I smell that unique blend of tools and plumbing parts, fertilizer, grease…and farmers.
Did you worry about money growing up?
Not really. If you know money is tight to start with, there’s not much to worry about. As mentioned, I did know from a young age that if I wanted something, I’d have to work for it. But that was what my parents did, too. I would sometimes feel a bit jealous of my cousins, who had a great deal more money. At Christmastime, they’d get five or so skirts and sweaters, while I got one. Ironically, as adults they ended up much less financially secure than our family.
Do you worry about money now?
I’ve gone through my share of worries, especially when D. got sick and switched from being a mechanical engineer to driving a school bus — about a 75% drop in income. And our kids were still quite young. Although he eventually moved into training and IT for the school transportation department, his income never really recovered; we lived on $20,000 annually for decades. I was working in editorial at a quilting magazine, which helped bridge the gap. My own business was steadily growing during the tight years and that helped, too. Plus, growing up the way I did, I tend to be extremely frugal during tight times. Do I worry about money now? Not really — except for always keeping a certain amount in the checking account. (“Just in case,” I tell myself.) Thanks to social security and D.’s pension, his income is higher than when he was working. Go figure.
At what age did you become financially responsible for yourself and do you have a financial safety net?
Mom and Dad took care of me and my brother so well, even though there was rarely money for extras. We did, however, have fresh vegetables and meat that only farms can provide, and my mom was a wizard seamstress. Other than hand-me-downs from cousins, I don’t think I had a store-bought dress until my junior year in high school. By then I was trying hard not to ask them for money, to the point that I worked in the high school cafeteria for free lunch (my brother did, too). Other than college expenses (see above) and a load of canned goods/foods now and then in grad school, I was pretty much independent by age 17 and a half. About six years ago, D. and I sold our house — which had greatly appreciated in value — and moved into a 32-foot, fifth-wheel trailer (the profit from the house went into annuities and our investment fund). My side of the family — dozens of cousins, aunts/uncles etc. — decided we’d moved into the trailer because we were “broke,” which amused us. A friend offered us a sort-of caretaking position at his ranch and that’s where we stayed most of the year. This let us travel, volunteer for Ethnos360 in Arizona (a training base for missionary pilots) and temporarily move to Michigan to care for my mom during her final illness. This past summer, we began looking for a more permanent spot and found a house and 10 acres up in the mountains. We moved there in November last year and were able to pay cash for it — except for $20,000, which we borrowed from A. and K., our younger daughter and son-in-law. (We could have paid in full but D. insisted we needed an emergency fund. He was right.) That loan is down to about $5,000 (yes, we’re paying interest). The fifth-wheel is still parked in our yard. We’d use it for traveling more if gas prices weren’t so darn expensive. But I guess it’s also kind of a safety net; we could sell the house and move into it again, if needed. Our kids occasionally use it but we do plan on selling it eventually. We also have a snowmobile trailer, currently full of household furnishings, sitting in Michigan; we plan to pick it up in the next few months. That could also be sold, if needed. We also have the annuities, which are meant to add to our final estate but will also help cover care facilities, if we eventually need them. We regularly set aside money in our emergency fund; it’s currently in Lending Club, which earns more interest. I like to keep at least $5,000 there; D. prefers $10,000. But we had some truck repairs this year that needed to be paid.
Do you or have you ever received passive or inherited income? If yes, please explain.
When my maternal grandma died, my brother and I each got a set of downhill skis — that was a big deal for us. When D.’s mom died (another careful spender), we received more than $250,000. That allowed us to pay off the house we then owned, get a new-to-us vehicle, take a few vacations with the girls in tow, pay for some college and buy several years of work service credits in the state school system for D. (That allowed him to retire at age 60, which was a godsend.) We also saved a good chunk of the money toward retirement. My mom died in early 2022; Dad died at least 12 years earlier. They had frugally saved a substantial sum but it was nearly all spent on Mom’s care facility, rehab and hospital expenses. (She was very ill the last year of her life; we moved 1,800 miles to Michigan and stayed at her home for six months. We cared for her at the house, then visited nearly every day until her death.) After she died, we inherited about $40,000 plus a share of the sale of the family farm to my nephew: about $125,000. Some of that money went to each of our daughters and their husbands/partners. It also helped pay for our current home.
Day One: Monday
3:50 a.m. — Can’t sleep. I get up, pad over to the kitchen and open up a can of Chef Boyardee spaghetti and meatballs. (The Chef and I had meals together a lot in grad school; somehow it’s comforting.) I start up Art Detective, a book about art fakes and discoveries, and fall asleep reading. Wake up chilly and crawl back in bed beside D.’s warm, comforting presence.
11 a.m. — Where did everyone go? The dogs (our dog, R., plus a granddog, F., we’re babysitting) are out with D. Start a load of washing, particularly sheets and towels. I put brunch in the oven (hamburgers and homemade rolls with tomato slices), then check email and texts, only to find that A. and K., our daughter and son-in-law, are stopping for a visit in just a few hours to pick up F. Rats! I thought I’d use this afternoon for work — and I’m still in pajamas. I take a fast shower, D. makes coffee and we sit down to eat.
3 p.m — After a near-fight with D. about scheduling travel for tomorrow, I call back a new client whose designs I’ve admired for decades. Whoo hoo — she wants me to appraise her work! This means not only income but a chance to really examine what she’s been doing over the years… And get paid for doing so.
3:30 p.m. — A. and K. arrive, F. leaps on them and all is chaos. They eventually settle down and I make fresh peach milkshakes for everyone. (We just got five full boxes from Palisade, CO, some hours’ drive away — at $25 for a 25-pound box, they’re incredible.) We talk for quite a while, then I wander off to get some work done. (D.’s making supper tonight.)
7:15 p.m. — Supper: grilled mushrooms with elk loin steak, mashed potatoes (instant), the rest of the rolls and a mixed salad that uses practically every green and veg we have (a family specialty). Dessert is coffee and ice cream sandwiches. The kids pack up their stuff, including a box of tomatoes and peaches, and leave, F. in tow — they have a four-and-a-half-hour drive to get home. We linger on the back deck and watch “fireworks”: a thunderstorm off in the distance.
9:30 p.m. — Back at work. (Put the wet clothes out to dry.) I’ve found I get a lot more writing done, especially on appraisal reports, late at night. I check on the news, email and Quora (yes, I am a dedicated follower of Quora) while D. watches YouTube political reports. I also work on three appraisal reports — I really want to finish them — and haul out our other daughter J.’s birthday presents so I can wrap them in the morning. Can I get cupcakes baked, too?
12:45 a.m. — Crash after a shower, teeth brushing, a pill (Cymbalta) plus two ibuprofen. I finished a medical study a few months back and found that a daily dose of 20mg of Cymbalta, which is normally used for depression, made my arthritic knee pain disappear. I still have some trouble with it, especially during changeable weather or heavy travel, but it’s amazing how much it’s helped. Now for a few pages of Finding Amelia (I’m currently on a “Where the heck did Amelia Earhart crash?” kick, and am reading everything I can find on the subject).
Daily Total: $0
Day Two: Tuesday
9:30 a.m. — Leaving for Denver this afternoon — it’s about four hours’ drive each way. This means I have to make breakfast (eggs and rolls), wrap the birthday girl’s presents, pack a night’s worth of clothes plus dog food, some peaches/tomatoes (from Palisade), etc. We’re on our way at about 1:15 p.m. We drop off a bag of tomatoes and peaches for neighbors on the way.
4:15 p.m. — In Castle Rock. Just enough time for a quick stop at the town thrift shop, which is outstanding. I find three heavy towels, two vintage Scrabble games, whose tiles will become a floor mosaic, a handful of birthday cards and two videos, plus a book for D.’s Christmas present ($56.94). We roar over to Safeway where I get a box of mini cupcakes ($5.50), then we pick up our friend (his wife is meeting us there) and drop the dog off in their backyard. $62.44
5:45 p.m. — At Elway’s in Denver for an ASA (American Association of Appraisers) meet-and-greet. (I’m required to go to these; you get two educational credits for each meeting.) Free drinks, and the free appetizers are outstanding: sliders, jumbo shrimp cocktail, crab puffs, tuna tartare on tiny little tortillas. We talk to one appraiser. (He wanted to know if I “did” carousel horses — I don’t — and antique furniture — I do.) Otherwise I’m generally ignored, which isn’t surprising. The others in this ASA chapter appraise businesses, medical and farm equipment, cars and guns. My specialty is general household, old and new — including dishes, paintings, furniture, jewelry, etc. — and especially textiles. At least the nibbles were great.
7 p.m. — Meet J., our oldest daughter, and A., her partner, along with our friends, for a birthday supper at Sushi Kansu ($113.18). They have “all you can eat” for a reasonable price but we’re so full that D. and I opt for splitting a chicken teriyaki box. Our friends do the same. J. and A. enjoy plate after plate of sushi. She also seems to like her birthday presents, the cupcakes (topped with candles from home) and the singing. D. stops to fill up the gas tank on the way back ($87.34).
$200.52
9:45 p.m. — Make it back to our friends’ home in Castle Rock. Check on the dog (she’s fine, she waited in friends’ backyard), then crash on our friends’ couches. Temperatures have been in the 80s-90s all day and the house is sultry. Two fans cool it down eventually but I have trouble sleeping, in spite of the ibuprofen, which usually helps. So does D. We finally doze off about 4 a.m.
Daily Total: $262.96
Day Three: Wednesday
10:30 a.m. — Oh no! I oversleep big time. We’re supposed to be looking at a woodburning stove for sale on Marketplace. I quickly contact the seller and get a 1 p.m. time instead. Then it’s cinnamon rolls and coffee, plus plenty of conversation and teasing with our friend (his wife, one of my dearest friends, left at 5:30 a.m. for a conference in Aspen). I talk him into coming with us, just in case the stove is heavy. He agrees — grudgingly — but says we owe him lunch. Why not?
12:45 p.m. — The 1920s stove is bigger than I thought it would be but perfect for the studio we plan on building in our barn. It’s cast iron with a brown glaze and mica inserts, instead of isinglass. Excellent condition but it weighs a TON. Thankfully, a neighbor has stopped by to help. We somehow manage to get it up the narrow basement stairs, then out to the truck. Some more heaving and it’s in the back. While D. is tying it down, we find out that the neighbor not only knows our friend’s son (and his in-laws) but other people we know, which is really nice. I have to pay the full asking price for the stove but it was low to begin with. $50
2:45 p.m. — We make it back in time for our friend’s appointment. While we’re waiting for him, I make sure the dog has food and water, and spend time playing with her. He gets back and we head to lunch at his favorite place: Jimmy John’s. He has a Turkey Tom; D. and I split a Cubano and Coke. Delicious. $37.60
3:48 p.m. — Drop our friend off at his house and head to Walmart. We haven’t shopped here for at least a few months; we live up in the mountains and it’s a 45-minute drive to the nearest big town. (You get used to it. Really.) I stock up on toilet paper, paper towels, Pepto-Bismol and other meds, some groceries (a 25-pound bag of flour, hot dogs, romaine lettuce, a salad kit and three marked-down apple pies), some diesel exhaust fuel for the truck and three firm pillows. We’re hoping the pillows will help us sleep better. We head back to our friend’s house to pick up R. the dog; it was far too hot to keep her waiting in the truck. A hug for our friend and we’re back on the road, air conditioner on high. $182.09
8:48 p.m. — Finally home after a long, hot drive that began to cool off eventually. We hit rush hour traffic, plus, oh joy, a military convoy ambling along. D., a navy veteran, insists on waving at each truck — embarrassing, but he loves the responses he gets. The leftover drinks, plus half a Cubano, help us keep going. It’s starting to rain by the time we get in the driveway so we put the truck in the garage and unload only a few things. The stove traveled like a champ! Then it’s hot coffee, some Swiss cheese and water biscuits while we watch a few documentaries (Conned, and another one also about people losing money). D. stays up to watch political stuff (including commentary on the Democratic National Convention). I take a hot shower and crash.
12:30 a.m. — A few chapters of Art Detective (I usually keep three or four books going at the same time). It starts to rain and I fall asleep.
Daily Total: $269.69
Day Four: Thursday
1:30 p.m. — Am I catching the flu? I never sleep in this late — well, hardly ever. In spite of the aches and sore throat, I throw on sweats and a T-shirt, then make breakfast: sausage links, tortillas with melted cheese, and a mix of eggs, tomato, fresh basil, garlic and red pepper. Dessert is leftover gingerbread and pumpkin cake (from friends), plus coffee D. makes. We splurged on a $480 Gaggia Magenta Prestige machine a month ago. It grinds the beans for every fresh cup — D.’s brother has one and we fell in love with it. The coffee is terrific. It’s our mutual early Christmas present.
3 p.m. — Time for a Zoom call with our investment advisor. (We have been with this company since D. retired in September 2018; we added more to our accounts when we sold our house in September 2019.) Our advisor tells us that everything is holding steady; in fact, we made more than 25% on our IRA account. Wow! We plan to add more to it once the house loan is paid off — that should be in mid-January. I feel a momentary pang that we didn’t have more money in the IRA but honestly, we couldn’t and nearly pay off this house. It is what it is. I catch our advisor up to date on the year’s income and expenses, and he promises to email all the paperwork for our files.
6:30 p.m. — Supper, after an afternoon of checking numbers, looking at the news and doing some small tasks, including starting a batch of tomato “gravy” in the crockpot, using the remaining tomatoes we got in Palisade. For supper, it’s hamburger soup: I pick a handful of beans from our deck container garden, then add beef broth, chopped onion, carrots, a potato and two leftover hamburgers, crumbled. Crackers, plus the rest of the gingerbread topped with whipped cream, round off the meal. I still do not feel that great. We watch a few episodes of Missing 411 while eating. Back to working on appraisal reports — these MUST get done. D. works on a sink leak in the bathroom. It’s much cooler today, thankfully, with a few rain showers. I’m starting to feel chilled. Am I running a fever?
12 a.m. — A hot shower and a few chapters of With Our Own Eyes, a military eyewitness book about (you guessed it) Amelia Earhart. Bed.
Daily Total: $0
Day Five: Friday
9:15 a.m. — The alarm rings earlier but D. is so snuggly… I go back to bed for a while. That means hustling through a shower and getting dressed; a friend is picking me up for a day of thrift shopping and hitting the Amish grocery stores. (We call it “wandering.”) We pick up two more friends, then head to Alamosa, the nearest “big” town (if you can call it that). The first stop, a gift shop, is fun but expensive — I hold off, in spite of a tempting large bar of lilac soap at $10.95. My friends, however, buy stuff here, as well as the next place, an antiques/junk shop. No worries — I’ll make up for it soon.
11:30 a.m. — A rustic Italian restaurant called My Brothers Place, all brick and barnwood on the walls. Friend #4 was supposed to join us here but she was just diagnosed with COVID-19, poor lady. The waitress tells us the setup cook never showed up and the owner is slamming away angrily in the kitchen — “so no sandwiches, just pizza.” We order half with sausage and green chilies and half with sausage and mushrooms, plus an order of garlic bread with marinara sauce. Crabby owner aside, the food is New York-style…and amazing. I pick up the tab — after all, I’m not driving — and my friends let me take the leftovers for D. $49.39
1:40 p.m. — Off to one of the best thrift shops in the area. My purchases include several fat quarters of fabric for an upcoming quilt project, some unusual embellishments, a few books (including a $2 hardback on Victorian era glass, for my research shelf), a few glass items (they’re half-price today and I’m experimenting with terrariums), a heavy-duty Broncos T-shirt ($6), and more. I splurge and buy a 36-tube set of varying colored mica dust for $15 — I plan on spraying a quilt top with adhesive and sprinkling several colors on. Or maybe just using it in a few resin projects, who knows. I pay cash for a 5% discount. $59.99
3:40 p.m. — The Amish have a surprisingly strong presence here in the San Luis Valley (also known as “The Flats”). Maybe it’s the more relaxed attitude about building codes, cheaper land and acreage for farming. My friends stop at an Amish variety store but I opt to wait. (It’s HOT out here.) Next is an Amish grocery store, which features discounts and buyouts in everything from cheese (Swiss, at $2.49/lb!) to frozen Jimmy Dean sausage (79 cents for 9 oz.) to cans of Progresso soup ($1.29). The hard part is that other than the bulk goods, you never know what they’ll have. This time, it’s all sorts of juices and exotics, including large bottles of Kedem grape juice and imported Italian lemon soda ($1.99 each), plus Knudsen’s pear juice for a steal: 99 cents each. Three packages of Hawaiian coffee ($3.29 each) also go into the cart — we usually pay triple this price. As usual, I get a heavy box of goodies for a surprisingly low total. $54.40
4:40 p.m. — Our last stop is Worth the Drive, a large Amish bakery literally in the middle of nowhere. It’s crammed with people buying pies, cinnamon rolls, doughnuts and the shop’s specialty: fried pies. I call D. to find out which flavors he wants — blueberry and peach — and add a pecan one for myself. I get a free doughnut, too. $11
6:30 p.m. — Supper: the leftover pizza slices, plus pasta topped with tomato gravy, which has been quietly simmering for more than 10 hours. (The handheld blender is a godsend; I just buzzed everything, including tomatoes, sausage, mushrooms and onions, into a smooth sauce.) We inhale the fried pies while watching a few episodes of Jeremy Brett’s version of Sherlock Holmes. Then it’s a few hours of appraisal reports before some pages of Fear of Fishing (a very funny book about trout fishing) and bed at midnight. I’m tired, but feeling better.
Daily Total: $174.78
Day Six: Saturday
10:30 a.m. — After breakfast (pancakes and sausage) we head down to the garage: The woodstove needs to be unloaded. After a fair amount of pushing and pulling, D. hooks it up to a winch in the ceiling. Then he drives the truck forward, leaving it weirdly dangling, about three feet off the floor. We’ll deal with it later — we are headed to a friend’s place on The Flats for a church workday. (She was bitten by a rattlesnake and spent nearly a week in the hospital.) Our house is up in the mountains with miles of view and trees plus sage all around us, but it only takes about 10 minutes to drive into nearby Fort Garland (which has three restaurants, a gas station, post office, the Fort museum, a marijuana shop and a dollar store).
1 p.m. — We’re late, thanks to the dangling woodstove. Our friend needs her chicken coop (really a greenhouse frame) sided and roofed for the coming cold. She planned to use bamboo panels but they won’t do the trick. What else is around? A pile of aluminum siding and some scrap wood, as well as one sheet of greenhouse plastic. We get to work along with the others, helping cut aluminum panels, then screwing them into place on the frame. Really D., along with the other guys, does most of the work. But I hold panels, hand up drills and keep the ladders anchored — along with contributing to the jokes and teasing. (Not to mention keeping a close eye out for more rattlers.) We have one side nearly done when a cloudburst hits us. The guys persist until the screws are in place, then we dash inside to towel off and warm up some. It’s definitely gotten cooler.
5 p.m. — Friend has supper for us: turkey with mashed potatoes, stuffing, salad and rolls. Chunks of melon and spiced peach bread, as well as pie, follow up for dessert.
6:45 p.m. — We’re home, grimy but feeling good. (We’ll head back next weekend to help finish the job.) I put some of the Amish groceries away and get chicken ready for the crockpot — we have dinner guests tomorrow after church. I peel potatoes and slice them into water, then set out ingredients and thaw chicken thighs for the chicken dish. (We’re slated to sing/play on Worship Team so need to leave early in the morning for practice. I’ll turn the crockpot on just before we go.) Some cleaning, the table gets cleared off and set, then I have a hot shower. (Suave has a rosemary/mint shampoo that’s particularly fragrant, especially when combined with Dr. Teal’s eucalyptus conditioner.) More Amelia Earhart (Lost Legend this time), then bed. D. stays up, watching political commentary, but I can’t keep my eyes open. Another storm moves in and I doze off, accompanied by the pattern of raindrops.
Daily Total: $0
Day Seven: Sunday
7:45 a.m. — I just love getting up early for Worship Team practice — but it can’t be helped. Fortunately, I’ve already showered so it’s an easy matter to get dressed. (Jeans and nicer shirt, with a few bracelets — our church is pretty casual.) I pad over to the kitchen and get the chicken ready in the crockpot, then check to make sure I’ve got everything needed to take with. D. makes coffee; that, and Kind bars we keep in the truck, will be breakfast. We listen to Bluegrass Junction’s Gospel Train program on SiriusXM on the way; it’s good for warming up. I check the Blancas, our local mountain range — is it going to rain some more? We get so little here (about 11 inches in a normal summer) that every drop is a blessing. Still, I’ve got company coming and we’ve had between 20-25 inches of rain so far this year. Needless to say, everything is green at a time when it’s usually gold — or brown.
9 a.m. — Practice starts. We leave R. the dog in the truck with the windows cracked, so she can converse with the neighbor dogs. After adult class, I run out to check on her and roll the windows down some more. It’s sunny but still reasonably cool — whew. Church ends and it’s time for a piano lesson with my young student. I give her a prize for practicing (this week, it’s mini candy bars) but hustle because 1) I have company coming, and 2) we discover there’s a church financial meeting. Will it go quickly? Nope…
1:20 p.m. — The quarterly financial meeting is blessedly over. (R.’s fine, too, though happy we’re leaving.) By the time we get home, four of the five people invited are waiting outside the house. (They didn’t go to the meeting, obviously.) I feel like an idiot. We make profuse apologies and invite them in. I rustle up a plate of Swiss and Pepper Jack cheese, sliced cucumbers and crackers for them to snack on, while D. gets them drinks. Fortunately, it’s pleasant out on the back deck.
2:20 p.m. — Sunday dinner: chicken with sauce (cream cheese, green enchilada sauce, garlic and spices), mashed potatoes, carrots/olives, Oriental salad (from the salad kit). Guest #5 shows up just as we sit down to eat. To our surprise, he is the best friend of couple #1’s nephew… They know him well! D.’s excellent coffee and a slice of apple pie (thanks, Walmart) with whipped cream puts everyone in a good mood, and they linger for quite a while. We finally stand up and mention a nap, so they’ll get the hint and leave. (They do.)
4:45 p.m. — A long nap but I can’t sleep past an hour. It’s raining again so I finish one of the Amelia Earhart books and start Maus II by Art Spiegelman. D. snoozes peacefully for another hour or two. I clear the table and put away leftovers. (D. will start the dishwasher later.)
7 p.m. — Fresh-popped popcorn and two more Sherlock Holmes episodes. I finish a second Amelia Earhart book, then sort out and prepare for the coming week. It’s raining steadily by now — no need to water the container garden on the deck. Maybe I’ll get more beans out of all this moisture!
1 a.m. — Bed…and a heavier quilt.
Daily Total: $0
The Breakdown
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