A Friendly Challenge Paid Off

In November, some pals and I were chatting about budgeting and such. We decided to do a low-spend/no-spend challenge in January. Honestly, we all had unrealistic expectations of what things would cost in 2024. 

I thought $50 was about right for the month’s groceries. (Pardon me. I seem to have fallen out of my chair, laughing at myself.)

Most of us had budget-crushers we could see coming in 2024: increases in rent, winter heating costs, and price-adjustments in services and insurance. It was almost fun to pool our brainpower and come up with budget-reduction plans (or schemes, as our British pal says).

By keeping a tight watch on our purse-strings, we all managed to put aside a little savings for the month. (Very little in my case; I had to pay for a tire repair.) 

Here’s a list of some money-savers we tried:

• Cancelling services (physical and digital)
• Replacing all paid programming with a free streaming services
• Eating and drinking only what we brought from home
• Menu-planning from what we had in our pantry
• Not replacing anything during the month (This was hard for me at first. My old Stanley vacuum bottle, carrier of my daily coffee, was irreparably broken.)
• Buying only manager’s specials or “mystery” food (The latter is a UK thing; one uses an app to buy discounted Surprise Bags of surplus food from local shops and restaurants.)

Air Quality Status: Very Unhealthy; Brain status: fried

Lots of things happened in the last three days: the A/C was installed, a 1-hour assignment for work took SIX HOURS, and La Casa de Tontería was engulfed by smoke from the Quebec forest fires. I ventured out yesterday with a mask on and still got eyes on fire. (“Eyes on Fire” or “Ojos en fuego” would make cool band names!)

Speaking of which…

While spending the afternoon doing chores, I decided to take a friend’s suggestion to learn about Swedish Death Cleaning. I typed in “Swedish Death” and spent an hour or so with Swedish death METAL playing in the background before I caught on to my mistake.

It blended very nicely with the sound of a vacuum cleaner.

You’re so vain, you probably think this blog is about you.

(Apologies to Carly Simon)

Last month, some young humans at The Factory found this blog. And by “found,” I mean they searched for my name.

As regular readers know, this is a blog about creative writing, editing, home renovations, squirrels, fiction writing, the architectural stylings of Jerkface MacGuyver, DIY writer’s retreats, and Tales of the Middle School Mafia. Not necessarily in that order. Unfortunately, the last category is the one the drop-in readers focused on, and hilarity ensued.

To be clear: No, the Middle School Mafia isn’t real. Real incidents are fictionalized; e.g. the tiger pit. No actual children were harmed in the writing of vignettes for my writer’s group. A few anecdotes – such as the ugly sweater/ugly kid exchange – immortalize funny kids being funny and making me laugh. None of the “Tales” were written to offend or hurt the feelings of actual Young Humans.

To long-time readers: I deleted several posts with links to friends’ blogs and took down an entire category, ensuring that no adults are pestered by association. Otherwise, it is business as usual in La Casa de Tontería.

Confidentiel à Monsieur Canadien : Je suis désolé que vous ayez été dérangé par des délinquants. Notre nom est trop merveilleux pour résister.

Abandoned House Update: It’s HAPPENING!

Because I’m home this week and spring has sprung, I planned to spend 30 minutes a day cleaning up the back garden of the abandoned house.

This has been an ongoing project since last year. The owner, after filling his house with three years of trash, had pitched his garbage out the back door. The yard was impossible to mow, making it a suitable habitat for weeds and varmints.

About 20 minutes before I headed out, a landscaping truck pulled up. The township foreclosed on the property and now is attempting to clean it up for sale.

The contractor and his son spent more than 3 hours taking off – as he put it – “one layer off multiple layers.” Then he ran a weedwhacker over the yard.

It looks like a debris field crossed with a meadow, but it’s no longer such an eyesore.

Tomorrow I will call the township office to find out when it’s going up for auction. If I can’t have a good neighbor, I would like to build a garage.

Wascally Wabbit

A frequent visitor to my back garden is a rabbit I named “Bigwig” after the character in Watership Down – and for the same reason: a caramel brown patch at the top of its head that contrasts with its grey-and-white fur.

I came home just now from running errands and was shocked to see Bigwig the rabbit lying dead in the backyard, atop the mulch along the chain-link fence.

Rabbits don’t just drop dead in the open.

If a coyote or another predator killed it, it would have been carried off. If a tree branch fell – more likely in this morning’s wind and rain – there should have been blood.

Oh, no! Was it a disease? Should I call authorities?

All these thoughts came to mind as I went out to investigate.

I dropped vegetable scraps into the compost bucket. When I stood up, the rabbit was gone.

More precisely, it got up from its nap.

Yes, nap!

When I walked over to the fence, Bigwig was watching from behind the shed. It gave me side-eye before hopping into the wild growth of the abandoned house.

Maybe I’ll rename it “Bugs Bunny”!

DIY Writing Retreat 2023: Sample Agenda

While shredding bags of incriminating evidence old paperwork, I came across brochures from the now-defunct Lake Huron Summer Writing Institute. It invited teachers to look afresh at ways of teaching reading and writing. I had attended two. One focused on poetry; the other connected personal photography with nonfiction writing.

I felt nostalgic for those days of writerly comradery in a beautiful environment (the western shore of Lake Huron during the peak of the yearly Perseid meteor shower). But I also noted the three-day agendas were nearly identical and followed a similar pace.

My DIY writers retreats aren’t as carefully-planned. Why not use the LHSWI template? The perfect time to experiment is coming soon when The Young Human Factory shuts down for retooling (aka Spring Break).

Below is the basic schedule without registration, introductions, meal breaks, and “stone circle” readings by a bonfire.

DAY ONE

Writing Session I (1.5 hours)

• Notebooking with prompts
• Generating ideas
• Personal writing time

Writing Session II (2.5 hours)

• Immersion in (genre) by skimming a selection of texts and choosing mentor text(s)
• Generating writing ideas
• A look at mentor text (e.g. how does the author transition from one chapter to another?)
• Response time
• Personal writing time

Writing Session III (2 hours)

• Reading the mentor text(s)
• Personal writing time
• Read one’s work aloud

Writing Session IV (1 hour, including readings)

DAY TWO

Writing Session V (1 hour)

This is playtime. For the nonfiction session, participants took photos to write about. For poetry, they found a poet’s work, took words/phrases from it, and used them to create a new poem.

Writing Session VI (2 hours)

• Writing towards a goal (e.g. extending a metaphor)
• Personal writing time

Writing Session VII (2.5 hours)

• Developing units of study (for teachers); readings from the genre
• Personal writing time
• Read aloud of one’s own work (aka “read alouds” for critique)

Writing Session VIII (2 hours)

• Personal writing time
• Read aloud
  • Editing

Writing Session IX (1 hour, including group readings)

DAY THREE

A 3-hour session with a visiting author (including the author’s presentation, guided writing prompts, and commentary on participants’ work).

Two hours split between personal writing time, sharing, and critique.

Middle-schoolers’ Magic

This week, an icestorm shut down the Young Human Factory (YHF) for two days. It was a cause of celebration among the in-process Young Humans, as well as us Quality Control Inspectors.

When I first came to this area to work for the YHF, I was unaware of the magical underpinnings of snow days. My hometown and the Detroit Metro area have cancellations each year, but sometimes this area gets none. 

Natural philosophers have opined on the reasons why.  (Note: “Natural philosophers” is a kind way of saying “kids who make things up”.) Some say the freshwater delta plays havoc with weather patterns. Others suggest it’s an effect of the wetlands (aka “the swamp”) giving off heat due to decomposition. A majority suggest that it’s a conspiracy between the superintendent and other adults.

The local Young Humans have developed rituals to cope with weather-related deprivation.

Namely: They cast spells.

There are four ways to summon a school-cancelling weather event, according to locals familiar with the customs. (Note: “Locals familiar with the customs” is a euphemism for high schoolers who claim not to believe in such nonsense.) Three rituals require sleep, possibly to cross the line from conscious reality to the spiritual world. Or, more likely, because Young Humans nod off at the very thought of school.

They are as follows:

• Wear one’s pijamas inside-out
• Put a white crayon underneath one’s pillow
• Flush an icecube down the toilet
• Put a spoon on the bedroom windowsill

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No, I am not making this up. These are superstitious customs passed from kid to kid!

Assassination of a donkey

I killed it for money.

When I was little, my maternal grandparents gave me this bank as a souvenir of Mexico. Unlike common piggybanks, it had no opening to retrieve money.

Whenever I found pennies on the ground, they fed the burro. After I moved away from home, it became a joke for friends to put various things in Señor Burro (or Borrico).

It grew very heavy. And chipped. But as battered as it was, Señor Burro always had a prominent place wherever I lived.

Until recently.

A nearby school began collecting loose change as a fundraiser. My own curiosity whispered about the bank’s contents. And I needed that space for books.

After removing subway tokens and novelty coins featuring naked women (Wow, thanks, guys!), this was left. Old Mexican pesos (before the “nuevo peso”), a Soviet ruble, a Nordic rune pendant, American and Canadian pennies and dimes, an American Bicentennial quarter, Vatican coins from the era of Pope John Paul II, several commemorative coins, and 100 dinars featuring Saddam Hussein.

Winterizing La Casa de Tontería

Yesterday it snowed. Not the fluffy, stick-to-the-ground snow. Not even the fluffy, melt-immediately snow. It came down in tiny crystals that rattled in the fallen leaves.

The cold weather meant no one was burning leaves. It was a perfect time to bag up leaves and pick up sticks. I hauled four bags and, with a bungee cord and a steady hand on the trunk, the fallen maple limb to the yard-waste drop-off.

When I said I’d be back with more, the man who runs the site warned me, “Don’t stay out too long. You’ll get soaked.” He’s a local who’s seen more than a few winters.

Sure enough, the snow changed to a thick mix of rain and sleet. By the time I put away the tools, I was drenched. It felt good to change into dry, thick layers and lunch on hot soup.

I made a mental list of accomplishments. The outdoor furniture has been stored. The compost can and the garbage bin have both been moved to their easy-to-reach winter spots. The snow shovel is in the front closet.

But the outdoor faucets need capping. Would suet or seed be better? Both? And this morning, when I stepped onto the cool floor, I remembered: close the crawlspace vents!

Real snow is coming Wednesday or Thursday.

SIDENOTE: The natural gas company sent its monthly report. La Casa de Tontería (aka The House of Nonsense) used 28% less energy (19 therm) than the 100 most efficient homes (26 therm) and much less than comparable houses (43 therm).

Nearly a MONTH!?!?

The saying is “Time flies when you’re having fun,” not “Time flies when you’re not having fun and not expecting fun in the near future.”

I’m listing things I remember doing (if only vaguely) since March 30.

• Preparation for/proctoring of state test
• Administration of International Baccalaureate internal assessment
• Lots of grading
• Lots of make-up lessons and materials for absentee Young Humans
• Made a lemon cake for My Old Man’s birthday Easter (The change involves an ice storm.)
• Dealing with debris after ice storm/gale
• Digitizing analogue materials and converting Microsoft documents to Google Docs and PDFs (Understatement: PowerPoint > Google Slides)
• Three official meetings and two unofficial meetings at The Young Human Factory
• Set up a composting barrel in the backyard
• Editing dialogue in the novel – and nothing more