Times of Extreme Frugality: It Don't Mean a Thing, if It Ain't Tied with String

Conventional wisdom would tell you that the world is held together with duct tape.

However, on our homestead, we've got the world on a string... baling twine, that is.

We were introduced to the wonders of baling twine back in our Woodchuck Acres days when we bought our very first chickens.

If you want to be able to deal with the delightful odor of chicken poop, bedding in the coop is a must. In a bit of serendipitous luck, our neighbors up the road baled and sold hay, and they were willing to sell us spoiled hay cheaply.

And that hay was tied with baling twine.

I took one look at that string and thought "Safe fine, safe bind", channeling my best Dorothy Sayers in BUSMAN'S HONEYMOON. 

Since then, everywhere we have moved, we have found more uses for the stuff.

In McDonough, it kept the smoker going when I worked with the bees and kept tarps snug over firewood.

In Indiana, it helped hold together the electronet encircling the sheep.

In Michigan, it helped hold stuff on the trailer when we moved back to NY.

Now we no longer have farm animals, but still import hay for mulch. The weather this spring was a real detriment to getting in hay but when the rain finally stopped, the farmers made up for lost time and we have found several good deals on mulch hay.

And the stash of baling twine has been replenished and put to good use.

Tying up tomatoes,

and peas,

fixing the hummingbird feeder,

or hanging a homemade bird feeder.

Baling twine. A reusable, free resource that is invaluable here on Silk Road. Or as we say, blessed be the twine that binds.

Times of Extreme Frugality: The Easy Repair

Replacing the thermostat to our oven was billed as an "easy repair". And, compared to a lot of other projects we've undertaken, it was.

Have you ever noticed that often the hardest part is the preparation for the job? 

We had to pull out the stove to access the back panel and it proved to be a pain in the neck (shoulders, back, elbows, etc.). 

We pulled and wiggled and then Tom had a brainstorm. Our massive yellow handtruck!

Putting it under the front and tipping the stove upwards worked like a charm. It's true--the right tool for the job makes all the difference.


One thing you should understand here: the folks who lived here before us were Grade A slobs, we will be cleaning up their trash for years and years. So it was no surprise to find all of this behind the stove.

After a bit of clean-up, I was able to squeeze behind the stove, take off the back panel and replace the thermostat. Some of the connections gave a bit of trouble but it was sliding the sensing rod through to the oven which was tricky. Thanks to Youtube, I knew to attach a bit of string to the old one to guide the new one in and, hey presto with a minimum of cursing, it was done.

The vinyl flooring under the stove didn't go all the way to the wall (of course) so Tom cut some thin plywood to even things out. We managed to finally get the stove back in and, wonders of wonders, the oven works!!

Neither of us is particularly handy with appliances, motors, electricity, etc. But as I often say, between the two of us, we have one pretty good brain. And this time, that teamwork saved us the price of a new stove.

Times of Extreme Frugality: Friday Night Massacre

"You should write about making pizza and post a photo of me grating cheese" said my ever helpful husband.

Grater sans Tom

I opted out of that idea but did make our regular Friday night pizza which came out overdone. Very overdone. Very, VERY overdone. The oven was heating up way beyond the set temperature.

And then we discovered the it wouldn't shut off.


Spooky narrator voice:

Technology has gone too far. The machines are alive and out for revenge! Coming to a kitchen near you:


                  "The Oven Won't Turn Off!"

Rather than heat up the kitchen indefinitely, we turned off the breaker, which, of course, turned off the stove entirely.

Tom's first reaction was pure Tom, 

"How will I make coffee?"

Now, I'm not Elizabeth Warren, but lying awake at 3am, I came up with a plan for that--our underused Coleman stove will serve fine as a temporary burner. Or we could just turn on the breaker, but I like the image of us bravely toiling over the propane stove in the backyard.

Temporary fix aside, we do need a plan of action.

We could:

1. Buy a new stove.
      Nope. Nopety nope. Not when we have just started putting a bit a money back in savings. Nope.

2. We could buy a used stove.
      Maybe. If we can find one that is cheap, works, and fits in the same space.

3. Call a repairman.
      This is 2019, not 1959. In our disposable culture, a service call often costs as much as a replacement appliance.

4. Do without.
       Buy a hotplate and a toaster oven. This would get us through regular cooking but not much use for canning and tomato season is coming.

5. Cook on the woodstove.
        This will work...in November, and not much help for baking.

6. Fix it ourselves.
         Dollars to donuts, the problem is a broken thermostat. Youtube videos show this as an easy repair. "Easy repair" is an oxymoron, like jumbo shrimp or honest politician, but if I can figure out what part I need, it may be worth a try.

       
Ok. Finally found the model number and after wrestling with the GE website, located the part. It should arrive Monday.

So stay tuned for Friday Night Massacre, Part II: The "Easy Repair".

Times of Extreme Frugality: Not as Frugal as I Would Hope, but What Else is New

This year's summer-devouring project was supposed to be digging out and replacing the back plywood skirting on the house and building a wood storage rack beside it.

Then the Incident occured.

Treated plywood was no longer in the budget. And the will-to-take-on a-massive-amount-of-work emotional budget was strained also.

However, the need for wood storage remained.

We had planned all along to build a rack using pallets and I found many examples on the internet.

Here is where we pause and take some time to whinge about the internet and unrealistic pallet projects.

Pinterest and the crafty folk out there would have you believe you can build anything from free pallets. 

Have you ever actually seen the typical free, wood pallet? Or tried to take one apart?

Maybe pallets in other parts of the world are made of high quality hardwoods that have never spent a minute outside, but in upstate NY they are rough, poorly built creatures that splinter into lethal shards if you even think about pulling the nails out.

But, somehow, we did manage to scavenge over a dozen, more or less solid, pallets to form the base of our rack. 

We had a few 2x4's we had accumulated but no where near enough. And finding free lumber is next to impossible.

So, we had to buy 2x4's, osb panels for the roof, roofing paper, and some more screws. Our "frugal" wood rack ended up costing us almost $200. 

We could have opted to stack wood on the pallets and just cover with tarps. We've done that before and the result was wet wood and a hassle every time we accessed the wood, especially in midwinter.

So, this rack is, in the great world of building projects, a cost effective and necessary project.

But my tightwad soul can't help but think there should have been a way to do this cheaper and easier...but mostly cheaper.

Times of Extreme Frugality: Random Acts of Cheapness

Four thrifty moments from this week on Silk Road:

1. Do you remember when everyday items were repaired instead of thrown away? 

Nah, I don't either, but when I sat on one of our lawn chairs and felt *pop *pop *pop, I figured I would once again replace the webbing.

Our consumer culture would have me toss this chair and replace it with the latest in "Lawn and garden decor". But all I want is somewhere to park my tush while enjoying the early morning shade on the deck, not an Instagram post.

And though replacement webbing is not as easy to find as it used to be, I managed to order some through our local Ace Hardware. One more item saved from the landfill.

2. Behold, the Rasely-o-matic lettuce spinner. Dry your washed greens with a few flips of the wrist. Lettuce and towel sold separately.

3. Inspired by our daughter's latest sewing adventure in her vlog Chipmunk of Power , I decided to stitch a summer shirt.

Usually, in these times of cheap clothing imported from foreign, almost-slave labor factories, sewing your own clothes doesn't save you money. Usually.

I started with fabric from one of two large tubs of material I bought for $5 at an auction last year. I have already made four sets of curtains and a blouse from that stash, used some of it for drop cloths, and the burlap is perfect for covering garden plants.

The pattern is years old and has been used at least half a dozen times so far.

The thread is from a a sewing kit full of goodies I bought from a 4H fabric sale. I'll be using buttons from the same sale.

And the sewing machine is a Singer treadle, over 120 years old and working better than any electric I ever had.

Don't think even Walmart could make a shirt this cheaply.

4. The plan was to dig a new bed under the birdfeeder area and plant with lovely flowers for the birds and the bees.

A late, wet spring and too many other projects meant I only managed to stick some cosmos in and leave the rest of the ground covered in sunflower seed shells, meaning to mulch it later.

Now, you'd think a winter of cardinals, mourning doves, juncos, and other ground feeders sorting through the fallen seeds would have ensured no viable seeds left. 

You'd think wrong. The sunflowers kept popping up. I half heartedly pulled a few but soon decided that, hey, they were at least green and healthy.

I think it looks great and almost on purpose. And the birds can dine on fresher than fresh sunflower seeds- kind of farm to table, without the farm...or the table.

What random acts of cheapness have you committed this week? If you need further inspiration, check out Katy Wok-Stanley's  The Nonconsumer Advocate, a blog with a West Coast, urban viewpoint and some interesting ideas.