After reading books among the likes of You're So Money, watching television shows comparable to Oprah's recent Debt Diet, and listening to the saavy Dave Ramsey on the radio, I've learned that in order to save money and stay out of debt, I have to adhere to a budget. Additionally, after being a teacher for two years, I've learned that I have to have a very strict budget and pray that one check meets the next. A great place to start is to determine the difference between wants and needs. Allow me to share a small snippet of my hashing out of wants vs. needs.
Wants:
Food
Flower bed stuff
Clothes
Needs:
Pay bills in full and on time
Self maintenance (manicures, pedicures, hair appointments)
Shoes & handbags
Now, pardon me for bragging, but my grocery bill is $0. When I address my monthly budget, I always enter $0 for groceries. It's really a benefit to my weight loss to live on a single female, teacher's salary. My family is well aware of the importance, or lack thereof, that I place on food so it's not abnormal for Anna & Poppy to send me home with bags of food nor for my dad to show up to my door step with sacks of groceries.
After my daily skimming, or stalking, of Facebook statuses, I saw that my favorite (and only) roommate of all time posted "I love my bicycle." A sudden excitement fell over me as I remembered that I received a beach cruiser bicycle, very similar to the one seen on Something About Mary, a couple of Christmases back. Immediately I called my dad, "Daddy dearest, please bring my bike over!" I really would have picked it up myself, but I don't think a small, quaint town like Edgewood could understand a teacher, driving a Mercedes, with a floppy-eared doberman riding shotgun, and a beach cruiser bicycle tied to the top.
As soon as my dad pulled into my driveway, I was prepared with tennis shoes and a pony tail. I felt physical pain within me when I realized that both tires were flat. Immediately, I wanted to run as fast as I could... to the winery to pour out my broken spirits into an emptly glass of vino.
I had to wait though. I had to pull it together, if only for the duration of my father's visit. He handed me two bags of groceries and I mindlessly left them on the counter as I visited with him and we watched our dogs, Dixie and Boomer, chase each other across my backyard. The dogs hate each other. I like to call it playing, but its really a knock-down drag out between the two canines. It wasn't long before ole Dad beckoned Boomer and hit the road for his long journey back to his house, approximately . 459 miles.
I moped the distance from my driveway to my front door - back inside my home and began unpacking the sacks of food my dad delivered. The first sack was full of dog treats and toys for my dad's only grandchild, Dixie "The Rebel" Ishmael.... yes, she had her last name changed.
That's when it happened, my second inspiration of the summer. My dad tends to have that affect on people.There, in the bag, shining like the Holy Grail were two brown bananas. Not yet rotten, but there was no way in h*ll that any person in their right mind would consider them edible. I felt like I posessed the wisdom of the ages when the thought suddenly overcame me, "Wow! Those are perfect for banana bread!!!"
TIME OUT (in a Zack Morris voice)
Where did that thought come from? It was like Martha Stewart was fighting her way out of my domestically challenged body. I've never made banana bread. The thought hasn't ever even crossed my mind. I couldn't suppress the urge to join the ranks of Suzie Homemaker. I immediately darted to my computer and Googled "healthy recipes for banana nut bread." As you can imagine, the recipe called for more ingredients than I had in my house; wine, pickles, dried cranberries, more wine, Crystal Light, and popsicles. Going to the grocery store, was my only option. BUT WAIT, I can't go to the grocery store, it's not in my budget. Oh the pain that flooded my soul!
Then, like a ray of sunshine beaming through the clouds on a dark, dreary day, my dad texted me the following morning, "Patton, can you let Boomer in at lunch?" In my most depressed texting tone I could muster up, "sure." Then thoughts flooded my mind, "Wait a minute, his live-in girlfriend is a school teacher. I wonder why she can't let him in. Hmmm, she must be out of town." It was the perfect opportunity to 'shop' for ingredients for banana nut bread. I met Boomer in the driveway with an over-joyed expression. I was so excited about this mischief, that I even gave the sweet puppy extra treats, about a bag full.
Baking soda: check
Sugar: check
Salt: check
Walnuts: check
Egg whites: check
Loaf pans: check
It was banana nut bread making Heaven!!!
After gathering all the ingredients I needed (THANKS DADDY!), I headed home and immediately began my ultimate goal of the day.
I followed the recipe to a T. I've learned already that trying to 'spice up' a recipe ends up in epic failure.
Everything was going quite smoothly when I ran into the ingredient, '9 pureed bananas.' What the mess! Pureed? What is pureed? I was raised in Edgewood, Texas. We have bananas. Banana pudding. Rotten bananas. Banana Laffy Taffy. Banana Runts. Banana snow cones. But banana puree? Once again, the gods of cooking spoke to me. THE BLENDER!!! There is a handy, dandy button on my blender that reads puree. I peeled nine, almost-rotten bananas and pushed puree. I've never seen bananas in such a state of beauty.
One hour later, the scent of baked banana deliciousness overwhelmed my humble abode. Alas, summer project numero dos is complete and my journey to domestic goddess is underway.
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