Thrifty Christmas

In New Zealand, Christmas arrives in the middle of summer. In my family, we have a pot luck lunch or dinner at someone's house (one of us usually volunteers to host). We usually have a BBQ, tell stories, look back at photo albums (hard and soft copy), play board games, do jigsaws, and munch on leftovers. If we are feeling energetic we will go for walks, go to the beach for a swim and beach cricket, and/or get out on the bikes. Or we may fall into a cataleptic stupor having laughed ourselves sick playing Cards Against Humanity, following the hoovering of the lunch leftovers and one too many glasses of bubbly/cider/beer (strike out those which do not apply). We also might sing, perhaps doing a cover of Ronan Keating carolling a Meri Kirihimete:

I have blogged about regifting before (here), but I got sparked up by a Houzz article on 16 things that we could do in November to make Christmas less stressful. I read the list of things and kept thinking: don't do that; don't do that; don't do that... and being amazed that so many of us complicate family time with so much irrelevant crap. I know that in the Northern hemisphere it is a time to hunker down and do things that keep us out of the cold. I get that. What I do NOT get is the flaming waste of all the mis-directed spending and angst. There are calculations which show that Christmas spending was around USD$66b in 2007, with recipients feeling that the gifts missed the mark while feeling that they cannot get rid of what becomes an albatross (Waldfogel, 2009).

"From about age ten on—when we first develop well-defined preferences— we endure receiving gifts that we do not like. To make matters even worse, we are obliged to pretend to be grateful" (Waldfogel, 2009, p. 25). When others buy for us, "it’s pretty unlikely that they’ll choose as well as we would have chosen for ourselves. We can expect their choices, no matter how well intentioned, to miss the mark. Relative to how much satisfaction their expenditures could have given us, their choices destroy value" (p. 28, emphasis added).

Again, considering my family, the adults have a "$5 Christmas". This means no one may spend more than $5 on a present for any one person (and have to be able to produce the receipt if challenged). in this year of Covid, we are going hard out and are only allowed to make things or to recycle existing things.

Children get to make presents - or buy $5 ones - but get 'proper' presents from the adults. We usually do lots of behind the scenes negotiation for getting what parents would like their kids to receive. Not only does this mean that we give less tat, it also means we can collaborate and give a larger 'unicorn' present. Once the kids become teenagers, we simply do a bank transfer, so we don't give things that fall into the Hogsnort Rupert "Aunty Alice" category. For those of you who do not know what that is, watch the video below:

However, if we get given Aunty Alice presents, the giver knows they will get a return, when we regift it, 'straight back atcha'. This created a lot of laughs and Wimbledon manoeuvres over the years. For example, there is an UGLY ornament perpetrated by my niece which has gone back and forth a number of times. It may have finally gone to an Op Shop (NZ for thrift store) when my niece moved last year, but I won't know until Christmas <Cue Jaws sound track>.

The Houzz article does point out that saving this year's Christmas paper for next year helps to prevent the 'tearing of paper', so generates little waste in that area. However, we don't wrap presents: we may use recycled paper gift- or shop-bags that we have collected through the year; or we may simply make a flax bow and put a repurposed cardboard label on it. We have simplified Christmas over the years to make it a real family event. It is about people, not things.

This year, as very few NZ retailers use plastic shopping bags, I am considering making roomy and sturdy cloth bags this year out of doubled-up Op shop men's winter shirts. I will buy those too damaged to be sold, so destined for rags or flocking. I will design each with a colour palette to suit each recipient, with handles the 'right' length. Made with love, each one full of Christmas memories, each time it is used. And I might even stencil a Cards Against Humanity card on the outside of each one.

Let's focus on people at this time of year. And cut the crap, eh?

Sam

References

• Hogsnort Rupert (8 January 2013). Aunty Alice ( Bought Us This) [video]. https://youtu.be/loWBedviMEQ
• Houzz (25 November). 16 Jobs for Christmas Early Birds. https://www.houzz.co.nz/magazine/16-jobs-for-christmas-early-birds-stsetivw-vs~56691406?utm_source=Houzz&utm_campaign=u15084&utm_medium=email&utm_content=gallery4_4&newsletterId=15084
• Waldfogel, J. (2009). Scroogenomics: Why You Shouldn't Buy Presents for the Holidays. Princeton University Press.

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The Slow Work of Un-Stuffocation

We all seem to have lots of 'stuff'. Apparently many Westerners have a two car garage which cannot fit a single car in it (CBS Sunday Morning, 22 April 2018). We leave our expensive cars outside, while our garages drown in crap. Imagine! Whether in our workplace or at home, it seems that unless we are active, things pile up in drifts around us. Things could be as simple as recycling or unread emails, to unfiled paperwork or our intended reading pile.

I am a conscious tidier. When I was quite young - and lazy with it - I tallied up how much time I had to spend finding things through my own disorganised laziness. I quickly worked out that I could save SOOO much time and energy by having a 'one true place' for everything, then consistently putting things in that 'one true place'. Organised laziness. I have built this habit over the years. I streamline wherever possible. I do similar things together. I try not to repeat things. I reuse, regift, recycle, repurpose tasks to limit junk tasks as well as junk.

(Interestingly, people don't believe me when I tell them it is because I am lazy that I am organised. Ha: I save my limited time on earth for my one true love - reading - by cutting out unnecessary faffing about).

Lately my husband has been working offshore, and I have used this hiatus to consciously tidy our lives. Over the course of this year, and in consultation, I have gone through our house, our workspaces and our storage to recycle, regift and repurpose things that no longer have a 'one true place' in our lives.

While I have read the Marie Kondo book (review here), my printer does not 'spark joy', and folding my socks into neat little standing-on-edge soldiers just tells me that I have too many socks. Ms Kondo's philosophy doesn't fit me well. My philosophy lies more in the slow movement.

My preference is to consider what to tackle, how to tackle it, and to deal with junk a space at a time; sometimes a drawer at a time. Like eating an elephant, the tide of stuff does not have to be dealt with at a run. Just walking faster than the dross accumulates means that your stuffocation (Wallman, 2013) slowly reduces.

What has surprised me is how liberating getting rid of things has been. Even after only a couple of boxes of things going, I feel a lightening of spirit. And many, many boxes have gone since I started, and there are many, many boxes yet to go. This slow work in progress of paring back - of coming to realise what can be done without; then re-evaluating; then realising what else can be done without - is wonderful.

Try the slow approach. It might work for you.


Sam

References:

• CBS Sunday Morning (22 April 2018). A clean sweep: Getting rid of your clutter. Retrieved from https://youtu.be/W2oN7gTbHp0
• Kondo, M. (2014). The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing. USA: Ten Speed Press
• Wallman, J. (2013). How We've Had Enough of Stuff and Why You Need Experience More than Ever. UK: Crux Publishing Ltd

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Consuming to Refuse

I have written before about trying to become less wasteful, and of the seven priorities - in order for paying attention to consumption: (1) Refuse, (2) Repair, (3) Reduce, (4) Reuse, (5) Repurpose, (6) Rot/compost, ... and very last, (7) Recycle (read here and here and here). As part of the 'refuse' element - and ensuring I am making easy changes - I decided to take action on a little something I have been thinking about for quite a while.

The agonising thing is that the refuse action first required consumption! Why? I have been thinking about carrying my own cutlery, following an Asian trend, but I needed the kit to do so. People in China and Japan are starting to carry a little box with a set of chopsticks with them so they don't add to the chopstick mountain (apparently China alone annually eats its way through between 57-80 billion sets). So I had a scout and found a small plastic box online which contained chopsticks, a spoon and a fork (Amazon, here), and bought it.

Once it arrived, I added a slightly smaller spoon to double as a teaspoon, a sharp knife, and a fairly sturdy plastic knife (the only one I could find at home that was short enough to go in the box. It is surprisingly difficult to find knives shorter than 20cm). The box now lives in my handbag, along with my water bottle. I particularly like the steel chopsticks, as they are more like the Japanese ones, with finer ends than the Chinese variety.

Of course, I am going to have to remember to put this in my checked luggage when I fly (have made a note!). This will also be very handy when travelling overseas - particularly the sharp knife.

What was quite interesting was that getting my own cutlery box up and running coincided with a work colleague donating a recycled set of steel spoon, knife and fork to everyone in our building, complete with names. It was nice to be able to regift mine to the School's tiny kitchen drawer.

While sorting the cutlery thing, I finally decided to get a collapsible coffee cup to keep in my bag. Having met with people twice this year over coffees in takeaway cups, I wanted to take action to prevent future waste. Sigh: more consumption agonising in order to 'refuse'! I already have a reusable china cup at work, but I don't want breakables in my bag. I used to take a reusable plastic cup with me when I travelled - except it got thrown out in a conference meeting room clean up: the second time that has happened to me! So this time I decided that I would get a well-sealed collapsible cup, that I can just pop back in my bag and wash out later. Stojo seem to make a very nice cup (here), and I am hoping that when this arrives, it will live up to its promise.

Making change, a step at a time. Have utensils, will travel :-D


Sam

• Reference: Wilson, B.(11 November 2013). BYO cutlery: why we should all carry our own knives and forks. Retrieved from https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/wordofmouth/2013/nov/11/byo-cutlery-carry-own-knife-fork-chopsticks

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Gifting, regifting and guilt

I noted an article on 3 News about New Zealanders selling their "presents that missed the mark", which I thought was refreshing.

Christmas, as well as a time for coming together, tends to be our major time for giving gifts. The act of giving to another - giving without attachment to the outcome - is the main point: what the gift is is not the important thing.

We may buy for others with the best of intentions, but none of us get it right all the time. A Kiwi band, Hogsnort Rupert, released a song called "Aunty Alice" in the 70s about terrible and inexplicable gifts from an aged relative which no one could fathom, which my family used to sing lustily along to.

My view is that our intention is to give pleasure to another, and it really is the thought that counts. I would be horrified if my gift became an albatross for another: something that they felt they had to keep because it had been given to them, and that they had an "Aunty Alice" cupboard full of unwanted things. 

Once a gift is given I feel the recipient is free to do what they will with it. I have been asked "How would you feel if your gift was given away?!" and I say "It's theirs: its now their choice".

Providing a burdensome possession was never my intention in giving. We have so much already in our privileged lives: we don't need to keep unnecessary things as well. Hogsnort Rupert's song's ridiculousness - and catchiness - helped me break free of my own albatross mentality. I kept an "Aunty Alice" cupboard for a while but a series of moves saw me give away and regift things: and I caught the habit. I keep a recycle box. While I would be unlikely to sell a gift, I see nothing wrong with doing so.

But how would I feel if someone else gave away something I had been given them? Just fine. My family has a $6 Christmas: you are not allowed to spend any more than $6 on anyone, and regifting is encouraged. Christmas presents are intended to be fun, and may in fact become perpetual challenge presents, like a tiger-striped slinky we gifted around and played with - as adults - year after year.

What I do see as wrong is the weight some feel in having to keep a gift forever. We should not be gifting guilt.


Sam

References: 

• 3News (26 December 2014). Unwanted Christmas gifts auctioned on Trade Me. Retrieved 27 December 2014 from http://www.3news.co.nz/business/unwanted-christmas-gifts-auctioned-on-trade-me-2014122611 
• Visual.ly (2012). 'Tis the Season for Regifting. Retrieved 27 December 2014 from http://thumbnails-visually.netdna-ssl.com/tis-the-season-for-regifting_50d0ef9f7bd2c_w1500.png

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Lightening Our Load

We end up with so much stuff, don't we, in this complex 21st century life of ours. Most of us have workplaces, cars and houses that become ever more full of things.

There are so many things that we need to take with us, all the time. However, at last, I am managing to get rid of some of the physical things, replacing them with digital versions. Thus far mainly diary notes, files, invoices, receipts, online transactions, bank statements, magazines, books, recipes, photos, greeting cards, music and films. I use memory sticks rather than CDs or DVDs.

I now only have some financial records in hard copy. When I see clients, and I write notes, I take a photo of the notes which I then save as a pdf. I give the hardcopy to the client if they want them, or if not, they are converted to heat for the house & office.

The process of digitising has really made me think about the importance and unimportance of stuff. I used to keep birthday cards when I liked the pictures. I do now too; but I scan any hardcopies I like and recycle the card. I myself only send eCards, try to order only eZines, and get all invoices emailed to me (also only sending eInvoices), pay online, get online statements, file and pay my taxes online.  My students submit their work online and I mark it online, providing online feedback. I use email and cloud storage for group projects. I download books to my Kindle, music to my iPod. Where I can, I download film to an external harddrive — our internet is too slow for streaming, unfortunately — and watch it on the big projector screen.

I don't collect tat — ornaments — as I hate dusting, so am definitely not going to make more work for myself! I try, when I buy a new version of something, to sell the old. I re-gift, up-cycle, recycle, give away, sell on TradeMe or return things when they aren't needed.

Taking a conservation approach, I do try to keep good equipment going rather than just buy new and dump the old. I am currently having a new mechanism put in my digital watch because the old one has died after 20 years (no staying power — honestly!). But you can't really do that with tech.

While I try not to be too sentimental about things, I still end up with more stuff, nonetheless.

So it was with great interest that I read an article by Alison Hodgson (February 2013) on some things to consider when getting rid of 'stuff'. Her lead-in was a story of finding a box of letters and cards to and from her husband over twenty years. She was in a quandry about whether to dump it or not. Her sister said no (old and shaming), her brothers said keep them (history). Then she had a house fire and the problem was solved for her. They burned.

Alison said "Looking back I can see I really wanted to get rid of them but didn’t think I ought to — that was the tension. It wasn’t that I didn’t know what I wanted to do, it was that what I wished to do conflicted with what I thought I should. This is why decluttering [...] can be so painful; it’s the tension from the many feelings, often in conflict" (Hodgson, February 2013).

She lists some common reasons why we hang onto things (Hodgson, February 2013):

1. Heirlooms: things of often only sentimental value held onto because they were your [enter relative name here]. These are things that are often not our style, or are so rarely used that they don't warrant the space. There were better ways for us to remember our pasts — like diarising some time to tell stories about that person, event or have a get together with others who shared that time. We don't need to drown in things in order to remember.
2. Gifts: Alison tells that after her housefire they were given many things. While she was thankful for people's generosity, there were so many things that she didn’t need. She had a change of view; "Now I assume a gift is truly mine to do with as I please". Wow: that's powerful. Most of us don't think of something as ours. We see it as an extension of the giver. This enabled her re-gifting, recycling, donating and selling muscles.
3. Come in useful one day: Alison felt that this was "the biggest one [category] of all, and at the bottom of it is fear". It is often cheaper to get rid of the old and not have the storage, carrying cost and maintenance of something, then buy a purpose-built replacement later on (remember Moore's law? Capacity doubles, cost halves). Don't hang onto the old fax machine because you might need it one day: you more than likely no longer have a fax line, so when are you ever going to use it? And why would you use it? Take it to the tip. Same goes for those odd-sized staples that go with the stapler that burst its springs last year.
4. Perceived value. If you paid lots for something — like that early electronic till — you often don't want to get rid of it. However, that value now exists only in your mind. No one is going to give you tuppence for that anymore. You probably won't be able to give it away; in fact, probably have to pay to dump it. Additionally, if you have just bought a 'great mistake', TradeMe it. But be realistic on the price. You will only make a quarter to a half of the original value.

So take the plunge and purge. Your office will be so much better for it.

References: 

• Hodgson, Alison (February 2013). 4 Obstacles to Decluttering — and How to Beat Them. Retrieved 14 January 2014 from http://www.houzz.com/ideabooks/7448442?utm_source=Houzz&utm_campaign=u1&utm_medium=email&utm_content=gallery29

Sam

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