Day 36: A Gift for a 13 Year Old Boy

Yes, the summer birthday season is now half-way through.  Today was the birthday of my wonderful, macho, hard-working charmer of a nephew, who is now officially a teenager.  (He has been an unofficial one for some time now). 

Boys are tougher than girls when it comes to presents, just as men are tougher than women.  They just don't seem to care for the little trinkets that make girls' rooms so decorative.  Instead, they want sports equipment, gadgets, computer games, all of which cost a small fortune.  I would love to be able to present him with a game for his Wii, or a new football kit.  But it just ain't gonna happen any time soon.

So I have mulled over this one for weeks now, at times close to despair.  I already had a small item for him - a magnetic screw-holder for strapping round one's wrist when engaged in DIY, which I picked up for a couple of quid in the Co-op last January.  On its own, it is not terribly exciting, but it at least fulfils the 'useful' criteria.  I had thought of simply adding something else to his toolbox: however, he already has just about every tool under the sun, and those he doesn't have will be well beyond my pocket.

Luckily for me - not to mention his family - he is a lad who takes a great pride in his appearance.  The family shower practically has his name on it.  So while it may not be the most exciting gift in the world, I think that some suitably manly shower gel and deodorant will be appreciated.  I managed to pick up a Body Spray and Shower Gel set at Debenhams for £5.50, so added to the wrist strap, the boy is doing well out of me for a frugal year.  Though based on progress so far, I think I may have to revise my minimum gift spend upwards to £6.

Happy birthday, my boy! xx


Total Day's Expenditure: £6.29

Day 35: Handkerchiefs

Oh dear.  I was without internet access for a few days there, as my holiday base changed to Oxford.  I shall try to catch all the posts up at some point (completion being important here), but if I stress too much, I will just fall further behind.  So now that I am home again, I figure that it is best to leap ahead a few days and plunge back in with the day-to-day stuff - which is of more practical relevance anyway.

Today's topic is handkerchiefs.  Initially, the paper variety.  These are nice and handy and clean and disposable - and can cost over £2 per box.  I can easily go through a box every two to three weeks, so this is a nasty expense, and one which I always resent.  Loo roll makes a cheap alternative, but it is not something one can really use in public without a certain loss of professionalism.  It is hard to look competent while pulling a trail of tissue paper from your bag like a conjuror hauling on a chain of sausages. 

Yet I can recall a time in my childhood when we knew of no such thing as a paper hankie.  Instead, there was a drawer in the kitchen in which was kept any amount of neatly ironed and folded handkerchiefs, from my father's mansize sheets to dainty little embroidered affairs.  They were also a common gift from aunts and grandmothers, and occasionally made rather dull appearance in a Christmas stocking. 

Obviously, the cotton handkerchief has considerable disadvantages compared to the paper version.  With apologies for grossness, I do recall them becoming a little crusty from time to time.  Also, soft though they were, they were not soft enough to avoid a sore and cracked nose when in the throes of a headcold.  (The 'balsaam' paper handkerchiefs really do work when you have a cold, and are well worth the investment on such occasions, even though they are heartbreakingly expensive.) 

But otherwise, the cotton handkerchief is much the superior product.  Not only is it washable and reuseable, but it doesn't fall to pieces at the bottom of your bag, and besides, is so much more elegant.  One can even add a dab of scent, or some menthol when the tubes are blocked.  A pack of a dozen plain white ones can be found on Amazon or ebay for around £10, and if you don't mind a slightly twee design, you can even buy a dozen for £2.99 (though look out for postage and packing).  This is a cost that will pay itself back very rapidly indeed.

Alternatively, do what I am currently doing, and keep an eye open in charity shops.  People still get them as presents, and then seem to have no use for them and give them away still in the box.  (Even in the throes of the most enthusiastic frugality, I would not stoop to buying second hand handkerchiefs!)  I picked up a couple of very pretty ones in Oxford for £1.75, and intend having a good look for more tomorrow.

So I shall save the paper handkerchiefs for times of real need, and enjoy the return to the proper recyclable hankies of my childhood.  I may even keep one up my sleeve!

Day 11: Shampoo and Capers

When I moved in last week, my new flat had an air of the Marie-Celeste to it.  Jars of half-eaten mayonnaise; wilting house plants demanding immediate attention from a less-than-competent nurse; and a DVD still in the DVD player, which had me briefly worried, emblazoned as it was with a large red heart and displaying no title.  It turned out to be Love Actually, which shows that I was right to be worried.

The whole effect is as if my predecessors have just popped out for a morning paper, rather than moving back to America after two years.  Naturally, they did not want to take anything with them beyond a couple of suitcases, so they just packed their bags and left, kindly bequeathing to me the entire contents of their larder, bathroom shelves, and medicine cabinet.

This is why I have been frantically baking to use up the eggs they left behind.  But beyond perishables, they have also left lots of flour and baking goods, a goodly supply of tea, various oils and condiments, and a few oddities such as an easy pannacotta mix and more fish sauce than I can use in a year of Thai cooking.  There is even a freezer drawer full of frozen vegetables.  Frugality Win!

However, the downside of all this bounty is that I have had to hunt rather stickily through the lot and throw out anything too badly out-of-date, or simply dodgy-looking.  Also, I will never ever eat a jar of capers, not even if all other foodstuffs were wiped out in a nuclear holocaust.  In such an event, they and the cockroaches are welcome to one another.  But at the end of this clearout, I have been left with a good stock of food basics, and I am heartily grateful for such American generosity.  Although they could have cleaned the flat a little more.

However, inheriting the life-style of strangers in this fashion has left me a little puzzled by their habits, even if the mystery DVD was in the event entirely innocuous.  For example: ranged on the bathroom shelf at the foot of the bath are - get this! - nine different bottles of shampoo.  Each one of them is a different brand or scent, and two are accompanied by a conditioner.  And what's more, these are no remnants: each bottle is about half full.  This is wonderful for me, and puts off the cheap shampoo search until at least Christmas.  

But nine??  What was going on there?  There were only two of them living in the flat.  Did they have a different shampoo for each day of the week, and with a couple on the side for when they felt like ringing the changes?  And on a related matter, who in their right mind would pair a minty Alberto Balsam Tea Tree Tingle Shampoo with an Alberto Balsam Sunkissed Raspberry Herbal Conditioner?  I tried it, and my hair smelled like an antiseptic pavlova.

I realise as I write this, that by my own account, even trying the combination makes me not quite in my right mind.

Ah well.  Who can penetrate the mysteries of the human heart?  Or even of the human DVD collection?