Not THE economy; but, economy in general. Despite the state of THE economy, I made a purchase that some would consider frivolous. I know the person who made the purchase possible would have thought so. Oh, well.
I've been thinking about economy quite a bit lately, not so much because of the state that our (THE) economy is in right now (some would say the toilet, I'll let you define it for yourself); but, mostly because of the date. If my dad had lived, he would have turned 66 years old today. You guys know how much Ilove birthdays and celebrating them. Every year, for his birthday, I would buy my dad a box of chocolate covered cherries. His favorites weren't especially fancy, they were the economical choice. They were the type that one could walk into a drug store, any drug store, and buy for less than $5 a box, if one wanted. My dad only ate them for his birthday, and Christmas, because I would send them again at Christmas time. He loved them; and, he considered it a special treat, mostly because I sent them to him---it was the sort of thing he would never buy for himself. For my dad's birthday today, I almost bought a box of those chocolate covered cherries in his memory; but, then I realized, I couldn't eat them anyway (due to recently discovering that I am lactose intolerant, I know!).
My dad often said that sentimentality caused one to make silly decisions, I think he was right about that, for the most part. My dad was a pretty funny guy, he was a bit anti-social, so people didn't always really get to know him; but, he was the kind of guy that most people would like, I think. He never took himself seriously, and he loved to laugh; but, above all, he was thrifty. If there was a photo of a person in the dictionary (or, I guess, on wikipedia) for the entries on thrift or frugalitythere would be a picture of my dad. My dad didn't like spending money, and he was more a "use what you have" or a "make do" kind of person. Growing up, I didn't really mind his frugality so much, only in the summer when he would sort of try to beat some record to see how long he could go without turning on the air-conditioning (with the goal being to not turn it on at all). His little test of wills wouldn't have been so bad if we didn't live in Florida, on the gulf where it usually gets to be around 104 degrees in July and August with 100% humidity without a drop of rain (seriously, I used to call Pensacola the tenth cirlce of hell--for the heat weary).
My dad used to say things like, "when I kick the bucket, then you can spend my money anyway you want. Get yourself something nice." When I was a kid, I never really thought much about spending my dad's money at all, probably because it was so rare to actually spend any money in general, really (this might be what drives my hoarding now, but, there you are). My dad wasn't a wealthy man, which, I suppose, might explain his frugality. But, he wasn't a stingy man. If he had something and someone else was in need of it, he would share it or give it outright. He liked to "spread the wealth" as they say, similar to the way I like sharing my passion for fiber and textiles! That being said, my dad never quite got the whole crafting thing. He never held it against me, but, he thought it was weird that I spent so much time and (especially) money on crafting. Last year, when he visited, he summed it up like so, "I don't know much about the whole knitting thing, but, I am pretty sure you've got enough of that yarn." When he saw my spinning wheel, he just shook his head and didn't say a word.
A few weeks ago, a check came in the mail from a life insurance policy my dad had with his job. I didn't know he had it, neither did my half-sisters. It was a surprise, a welcome one, actually. Death is expensive. We ended up charging a great deal to our credit card after my dad passed away. But K thought (and I agreed, obviously) that it would be nice to get something with some of that money that would help me remember my dad (you know, a thing...people do this, right? It's not just me, is it?!). The obvious thing would have been a fishing pole, because my dad loved to fish; but, let's get real here, I am not going fishing anytime soon. I didn't like to fish when my dad made me go with him as a kid, so I am certainly not going to do it now (though I am sad that my boys will never get to go fishing with my dad, it was kind of an event). So instead, I got myself something nice: a Schacht Matchless double treadle spinning wheel.
I feel like I have to learn how to spin all over again. It's a little different from spinning on a Lendrum (not a lot; but, enough to know there's a difference--and wow, is this wheel fast.). I am calling this wheel Choobie. That was my dad's nickname for me, and I haven't heard it in a while, and I am feeling sentimental, if not wholly economical. Thanks, Dad.