I don't know what possessed me, I truly don't. The lure of inexpensive meat that is not purchased at No Frills ? (because, ew, really, even our budget can do better than that). The feeling that I'd better use the d!@# membership since I'd purchased it, and wanted to get my money's worth? A deep seated (so deep that I didn't even know about it) desire for a 1/4lb. hot dog for 99 cents? Whatever it was I found myself crawling into the Costco parking lot in Upper Scarberia this past Sunday. Crawling because apparently 10,000 other Torontonians didn't have anything else to do on a Sunday either. From left turn lane to parking lot....20 minutes, with not even a hint of exaggeration. And the parking was not a pleasant Sunday drive either....it was me up against thousands of other drivers, all determined to spend lots of money on lots of REALLY BIG things.
Which brings me to the truly mystifying part of this trip. What was I, of all people, writer of a blog entitled Smaller is Better doing in a store that epitomizes the big box, that justifies the suburban monster home with its 1400 sq. ft. of storage? The last time we lived in a smaller home and I visited Costco it resulted in an elaborate weeks long project to convert an old closet into a spacious pantry (said project was completed by my lovely wife, not me of course). Well in this house, that old closet has already been converted: into a laundry room on the main floor, and into a staircase leading to the attic on the 2nd floor. So what was I doing buying humongous 24 packs of toilet paper and kleenex??? To top it off, I was fighting off a cold or something at the time, so I entered the behemoth business in an already weakened state for extra danger and foolishness.
The good news: We don't have to buy meat or vitamin supplements for the next 6 months. The bad news: it will be longer than that before I recover from my Costco-induced trauma and set foot in the store again....though they did have some great deals on suitcases...and cameras...oh and I forgot to get the bread.....hmm...are you doing anything next weekend??
Showing posts with label shopping. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shopping. Show all posts
Monday, January 10, 2011
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
so much for November
okay so clearly the one post a day in November thing was a complete and utter failure. Life happens, okay? sheesh.
Moving right along!
I have two deep, dark secrets to share with you today, dear readers. One is the dark, rotten, moldy kind, that should be kept out of sight....one is the kind that looks bright and shiny and clean but inside...well, it's more like the first one. Are you ready for this? These secrets are important, they are the secrets to our downsizing success.
1) The basement of our new house. This is truly one of the most horrific basements I have ever encountered. The walls are crumbling in various places, have been ripped out in others, and speckled with black mold in many others. I have a mold allergy and I can't spend more than 15 minutes down there without starting to wheeze. Evidence of the previous tenants abounds, from someone's sad attempt to texture paint one of the rooms (note: swamp green rag rolling does not improve a dark, dank room), to the *ahem* evidence left behind in another: tinfoil covered window, pile of soil in the corner and stack upon stack of shipping boxes. We hate our basement because it is moldy, lacks a proper door, and feels like the kind of place that makes a happy home for rodents or serial killers in movies starring Jodie Foster. But we also love our basement because it is holding ALL OUR CRAP. All the boxes, and boxes, and boxes of stuff that won't fit in our house and we might want and we don't know what to do with. And as a result we are saving thousands of dollars in storage fees while we figure out what we're doing. So we (or maybe Beth given my wheezing issues) are going to tackle the basement with mold spray, gloves and masks, and put all the stuff in boxes in shelves and in plastic to protect it from the damp we know, and the damp we know will come!
wish us luck.
2) My other dark, deep secret isn't really much of a secret. It's IKEA.
IKEA, shiny blue and yellow Swedish siren, luring me to your shoals of disposable consumerism. You with your crunchy, green, family friendly image, your shining clean ballroom, your cheap meatballs and fries. But really are you any better than Wal-mart or McDonald's ? Despite your shiny exterior, your insides are just as tainted by the pursuit filthy lucre.
I returned to the blue and yellow behemoth, Toronto version, for the first time this past Saturday. By some cosmic miracle both our children agreed to stay in the play place as my wife and I giddily skipped through the store. 3 groggy hours later and many, many dollars poorer, we staggered out into the bright daylight of a North York parking lot...wondering how yet again we had been lulled into consumer complacency and wasted almost a whole Saturday inside.
the secret here? I guess it's just that I keep on believing all my downsizing problems can be solved if I spend enough money on Expedit shelving.
Moving right along!
I have two deep, dark secrets to share with you today, dear readers. One is the dark, rotten, moldy kind, that should be kept out of sight....one is the kind that looks bright and shiny and clean but inside...well, it's more like the first one. Are you ready for this? These secrets are important, they are the secrets to our downsizing success.
1) The basement of our new house. This is truly one of the most horrific basements I have ever encountered. The walls are crumbling in various places, have been ripped out in others, and speckled with black mold in many others. I have a mold allergy and I can't spend more than 15 minutes down there without starting to wheeze. Evidence of the previous tenants abounds, from someone's sad attempt to texture paint one of the rooms (note: swamp green rag rolling does not improve a dark, dank room), to the *ahem* evidence left behind in another: tinfoil covered window, pile of soil in the corner and stack upon stack of shipping boxes. We hate our basement because it is moldy, lacks a proper door, and feels like the kind of place that makes a happy home for rodents or serial killers in movies starring Jodie Foster. But we also love our basement because it is holding ALL OUR CRAP. All the boxes, and boxes, and boxes of stuff that won't fit in our house and we might want and we don't know what to do with. And as a result we are saving thousands of dollars in storage fees while we figure out what we're doing. So we (or maybe Beth given my wheezing issues) are going to tackle the basement with mold spray, gloves and masks, and put all the stuff in boxes in shelves and in plastic to protect it from the damp we know, and the damp we know will come!
wish us luck.
2) My other dark, deep secret isn't really much of a secret. It's IKEA.
IKEA, shiny blue and yellow Swedish siren, luring me to your shoals of disposable consumerism. You with your crunchy, green, family friendly image, your shining clean ballroom, your cheap meatballs and fries. But really are you any better than Wal-mart or McDonald's ? Despite your shiny exterior, your insides are just as tainted by the pursuit filthy lucre.
I returned to the blue and yellow behemoth, Toronto version, for the first time this past Saturday. By some cosmic miracle both our children agreed to stay in the play place as my wife and I giddily skipped through the store. 3 groggy hours later and many, many dollars poorer, we staggered out into the bright daylight of a North York parking lot...wondering how yet again we had been lulled into consumer complacency and wasted almost a whole Saturday inside.
the secret here? I guess it's just that I keep on believing all my downsizing problems can be solved if I spend enough money on Expedit shelving.
Friday, October 29, 2010
selling stuff sucks
Now I remember why we usually can't be bothered to do this, beyond a garage sale or two over the years.....
First you have to locate the item. Then you have to clean/repair the item (granted that my lovely wife usually takes care of these first two if I whine enough).
Then you have to decide how much to charge for the item....somewhere between 'I love this and others should appreciate it's unique beauty too' and 'hahaahahaha oh well at least it sold and we didn't just give it away.'
You know what else sucks about selling stuff ? Going back & forth, back & forth, back & forth with people over email and phone about how great said item is, how convenient it is for them to pick it up, how you have the perfect price, how big it is, how much it weighs, its shoe size, where you live....and then they never show up at the stated time and just disappear, entering the twilight zone of used item sales....never, ever to be seen or heard from again...
And yet when you are downsizing in the rather extreme way that we are at present, it's hard to get around selling stuff, sucky though it may be. I mean it makes a lot more sense to sell certain big ticket items than to try to store them in our limited basement space for an indefinite amount of time...and definitely makes a lot more sense than paying to store them somewhere else...
Some of the items we have managed to sell in the past few weeks:
Some of the items we might, with any luck, be selling in the next couple of days:
Some of the items we seem destined never to sell and might as well give up on at this point:
Some of the items we probably should sell but haven't brought ourselves to part with yet:
***********************************************************************************
So now it's Sunday morning, and we have officially sold the couch, bringing to about $1000 the amount we have made selling stuff so far. Not too shabby and will definitely help pay for the move.
Except this time I think we may have gone too far. I am now experiencing a serious case of seller's remorse. What were we thinking!???!!!! That was our nice leather couch. The one that looked like it belonged in a grown-up's living room, not in a grad school apartment. The one that did not get dirty, no matter how many times it was peed on, spilled on etc. The one that never showed the cat hair from our WHITE cat. The one that was comfy and cozy. The one that I guess was really too big and anyway had a tear in it and really it is JUST a couch and we can always replace it some day and really it is just a thing, just an object, let it go, let it go, let it go....
Anxiety & insomnia can really be funny sometimes. No really. Not usually in the moment, but in the harsh light of reality that follows. As in, what the hell, I woke up early worrying because we sold a couch? Don't I have more important things to think about and worry about? Like hoping someone will buy our house?
There now, I feel better already. Maybe I'd better watch another therapeutic 15 minutes of hoarders. (and buy a new cover for our remaining IKEA couch?? That would probably help too, though it sort of goes against the whole point of this blog!)
Hmmm that gives me an idea for another post: how a green living, simple living, slightly broke Quaker girl like me still finds shopping strangely therapeutic at times. yikes!
First you have to locate the item. Then you have to clean/repair the item (granted that my lovely wife usually takes care of these first two if I whine enough).
Then you have to decide how much to charge for the item....somewhere between 'I love this and others should appreciate it's unique beauty too' and 'hahaahahaha oh well at least it sold and we didn't just give it away.'
You know what else sucks about selling stuff ? Going back & forth, back & forth, back & forth with people over email and phone about how great said item is, how convenient it is for them to pick it up, how you have the perfect price, how big it is, how much it weighs, its shoe size, where you live....and then they never show up at the stated time and just disappear, entering the twilight zone of used item sales....never, ever to be seen or heard from again...
And yet when you are downsizing in the rather extreme way that we are at present, it's hard to get around selling stuff, sucky though it may be. I mean it makes a lot more sense to sell certain big ticket items than to try to store them in our limited basement space for an indefinite amount of time...and definitely makes a lot more sense than paying to store them somewhere else...
Some of the items we have managed to sell in the past few weeks:
- our rooftop car box thingy (we haven't used it since we got a bigger car 1.5 years ago).
- our espresso machine (we figure we don't have enough counter space and will be living closer to fancy coffee shops).
- Our lovely sit & stand stroller to some friends who just had a beautiful baby girl, baby #3, a few days ago. Time for Annie to walk more--at age 5.5, I think she's ready so long as we can handle the whining.
- Our big brown bunk beds...they will not likely fit in the girls new tiny (6' by 10') bedroom and will be replaced by, wait for it, something smaller from IKEA!
- This old, slightly odd looking wooden hutch from Beth's grandma's house. She was most decidedly NOT sentimentally attached to it (whew! I could learn from this example).
Some of the items we might, with any luck, be selling in the next couple of days:
- our leather couch. Lovely, but we also have a pull out couch and we need things with more than one purpose.
- Our Double Chariot Cougar Stroller. Weirdly we are having a lot of trouble offloading what is usually a hot item in Ottawa.
Some of the items we seem destined never to sell and might as well give up on at this point:
- our beautiful Radio Flyer Liberty Spring Horse. Perfection in plastic horse form. And yet nary a nibble...
- Our IKEA Robin bed. Maybe everyone else has read that they don't make it anymore due to pokey corners "(http://forum.canadianparents.com/ubbthreads/ubbthreads.php?ubb=showflat&Number=198432) hmmm. maybe that's why we can't sell it.
- Our ibert front mount bike seat...perfect for carrying your toddler in front while your big kid rides on her trail-a-bike in back. If you're a toddler, imagine this: sun in your face, wind in your hair, waving and laughing at passersby, and for added enjoyment periodically leaning over to mess with your parent's gears/brakes/bell. hmmm.
- Our change table/dresser.
- A lovely Fisher Price pack n' play
Some of the items we probably should sell but haven't brought ourselves to part with yet:
- The girls' massive 3 storey dollhouse
- Our Queen size bed & mattress.....mmmm such a nice mattress. And that nice basket-weaving IKEA bed. (IKEA should start sponsoring this blog).
***********************************************************************************
So now it's Sunday morning, and we have officially sold the couch, bringing to about $1000 the amount we have made selling stuff so far. Not too shabby and will definitely help pay for the move.
Except this time I think we may have gone too far. I am now experiencing a serious case of seller's remorse. What were we thinking!???!!!! That was our nice leather couch. The one that looked like it belonged in a grown-up's living room, not in a grad school apartment. The one that did not get dirty, no matter how many times it was peed on, spilled on etc. The one that never showed the cat hair from our WHITE cat. The one that was comfy and cozy. The one that I guess was really too big and anyway had a tear in it and really it is JUST a couch and we can always replace it some day and really it is just a thing, just an object, let it go, let it go, let it go....
Anxiety & insomnia can really be funny sometimes. No really. Not usually in the moment, but in the harsh light of reality that follows. As in, what the hell, I woke up early worrying because we sold a couch? Don't I have more important things to think about and worry about? Like hoping someone will buy our house?
There now, I feel better already. Maybe I'd better watch another therapeutic 15 minutes of hoarders. (and buy a new cover for our remaining IKEA couch?? That would probably help too, though it sort of goes against the whole point of this blog!)
Hmmm that gives me an idea for another post: how a green living, simple living, slightly broke Quaker girl like me still finds shopping strangely therapeutic at times. yikes!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)