Homesteading is becoming the life-style many people opt for during the recent years. It is characterized by subsistence agriculture, home preservation of food, and even small scale production of textiles and clothing. It also includes some craft work for household use or sale.
The reason why this life-style is gaining more and more popularity is that is helps people to maintain a certain standard of living that doesn’t require too much finances.
One person who got devoted to homesteading is Mama V. This woman got tired of the busy life at the city and as she has always had this dream of building a cottage for herself in the isolated woods, she eventually left the metropolitan life behind and moved into an old mini-school bus.
The mini-school bus seemed like the perfect home at first, but since she had her cats and dogs with her, the place was a bit crowded so she started considering getting an additional room, which wasn’t an easy thing to plan or construct. On top of that, she didn’t really have the finances for such a project.
But then, one of her neighbors invited her over and offered her his old and abandoned trailer that stood in his yard for many years.
He wanted to get rid of it, but since Mama V liked it and got ecstatic about it, he gave it to her for free.
“She’s ugly, but she’s mine!” Mama V said of her trailer.
In order to be able to renovate the trailer she was forced to sell her bus. She was aware that turning that old trailer into a home would take a lot of time and energy, but she was ready to give the project a go.
Mama V, however, couldn’t do it herself so she asked her two pals, Jayme and Kevin, to assist her.
The trailer, although very dirty and in need of some repairs, was structurally good and leak-free. On top of that, it already had a functioning microwave oven/stove combo, and refrigerator.
After a long day of cleaning, Mama V’s friends left and let her enjoy her new piece of heaven.
Among the rest, the trailer contained two full propane tanks, a pull-out couch, a full kitchen, two twin beds, a bathroom with a shower and bathtub, a panel that kept track of utility usage, and a lot of storage.
Once she settles in, Mama V would start her own garden and a life she has always dreamed of.
She’s glad that she and her pets would have a place to call home and that she’s surrounded by great neighbors who help her with whatever she needs as she embarks on this new adventure.
MY HUSBAND SPENT OUR FAMILY’S SAVINGS FOR A CAR ON A PARIS TRIP FOR HIS MOM — SO I TAUGHT HIM A LESSON ABOUT FINANCES.
The weight of the betrayal settled in my stomach like a cold stone. Three years. Three years of sacrifice, of pinching pennies and foregoing simple pleasures, all for a car that would keep our family safe. And he’d squandered it. On a whim. On a trip to Paris for his mother.
David, bless his oblivious heart, seemed genuinely surprised by my reaction. He’d always been a mama’s boy, and I’d tolerated it, even indulged it, to a point. But this? This was beyond the pale.
“It’s my money too!” he’d protested, his voice rising in that familiar defensive tone. “She deserves it! You can’t put a price on gratitude.”
I’d simply stared at him, my mind reeling. Gratitude? What about gratitude for the sacrifices I’d made, for the countless hours I’d spent juggling work, kids, and household chores? What about gratitude for the safety of our children?
I knew arguing would be futile. He was locked in his own world of justifications, and I wasn’t about to waste my breath. Instead, I retreated, a quiet fury simmering beneath my composed exterior.
Over the next few days, I played the part of the understanding wife. I smiled, nodded, and even helped him pack his mother’s suitcase. I listened patiently as he recounted his mother’s excited phone calls, her plans for sightseeing and shopping.
But beneath the surface, I was plotting. I was determined to teach him a lesson about finances, about responsibility, about the true meaning of family.
First, I contacted his mother. I explained the situation, the crumbling van, the precarious state of our family finances. She was mortified. She’d always been a sensible woman, and she was appalled by her son’s impulsive decision. She offered to pay for the trip herself, but I declined. Instead, I suggested a compromise. She could still go to Paris, but for a shorter period, a weekend getaway rather than a full week. The difference in cost would be returned to our car fund.
Next, I tackled the issue of David’s “my money too” argument. I opened a joint account, separate from our everyday expenses, and deposited the remaining car fund, along with the money his mother had returned. I then created a detailed budget, outlining our household expenses, including the cost of a new (used) car. I presented it to David, highlighting the glaring discrepancy between our needs and his impulsive spending.
I also introduced him to the concept of “family meetings.” Every Sunday, we would sit down together, discuss our finances, and make joint decisions about spending. The kids were included, too, learning about the value of money and the importance of saving.
Finally, I decided to address the issue of his mother’s constant demands. I didn’t want to create a rift between them, but I needed to establish boundaries. I suggested that we set aside a small portion of our budget for gifts and experiences for both our families, to be agreed upon by both of us.
The changes weren’t immediate. David grumbled about the budget, about the “unnecessary” family meetings. But slowly, he began to understand. He started to appreciate the sacrifices I’d made, the careful planning that kept our family afloat. He even started to enjoy the family meetings, seeing them as an opportunity to connect with the kids and make joint decisions.
The day we drove our newly purchased (used) car home, David looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and gratitude. “Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere. “For teaching me.”
I smiled. “We’re a team, David,” I said. “And teams work together.”
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