My story around money is... oblivious to me. It was suggested to me that we each have a story about money many months ago, and yet nothing. My degree in economics would suggest it's about utility, rational actors, and min/maxing but that's hooey. I guess it'll just have to remain in the "ruminating" category.
My stories around money run deep. I have been excavating for a long time.
I grew up with frugality and cost as a consideration in almost every purchase. Then once the purchase was made, there was a story to tell about the deal you got. In adulthood when I started catching myself telling those stories I’d find myself embarrassed after the words came out of my mouth.
I shudder to think of everything I missed out on because I couldn’t get a deal on it or because “it cost too much.”
I now sometimes sneak back to the table and leave extra tip money after somebody I know leaves their “percentage amount” that they’ve read is reasonable. 😂
I do not have a shred of scientific evidence, but it becomes more and more clear to me that what we put out comes back to us.
Happy ruminating! Thanks for joining us in comments today! ♥️
I, too, grew up in a family with limited income for most of my childhood. Prices were always a consideration. We qualified for “Surplus Food,” a government program that helped growers by buying their crops when surpluses drove prices down. We benefitted by getting boxes with flour, powdered milk, cheese, lard, and perhaps several others. Mom baked extensively. She sewed our shirts and jeans for school wear. One pair of shoes was to last a full year.
Many years later I met a designer involved in a renovation project I managed. The first time I suggested a cost-effective alternative the designer replied, “I was raised in an environment where cost didn’t matter. The “look” of a garment, the “feel” of a new sofa, etc. was the determinant. Not the least ostentatious, simply suggesting that cost-effectiveness wouldn’t factor in to her recommendations.
We worked together effectively as she helped me understand how she specified details and products for a project.
The owner had no concern over the costs of the designer’s decisions. She, too, wanted the right look and feel. As with other projects I managed, meeting owner’s expectations was requisite.
Is it possible that sharing an occasional rumination here (3mm) would be fruitful?My sense of the people herein is one of diversity, intelligence, and thoughtfulness mixed with kindness. Answers? Possibly. Ideas for further ruminating? I’d not be surprised.
I once heard of a woman who started a business around “fierce conversations”. The name alone gave Calliope chills.
Thank you for your observation that 3mm is a new kind of safe space — where one can show up with authentic thoughts and be met with curiosity and a spirit of gentleness — a place where ideas can mix and mingle in an atmosphere of growth and learning.
My father’s parents operated a general store and their town Post Office. During the not so Great Depression, everyone needed food, dry goods, and other life essentials to survive. Not all had money. Such folks bartered whenever possible. Milk from cows. Eggs from their chickens. Produce from their gardens. Sometimes an oversupply of such items offered in barter rendered their value slight, if at all. Dire business for those lacking dollars. Heart breaking for dad’s parents. A sad convolution in the energy exchange. I wonder about the people who lacked currency? Their fates?
So I offer thanks for today’s post and pictures from last night’s performance. My apologies for a “downer” take on the money/energy part of the post.
Not a downer… my father is a product if the depression and I suspect that where some of my stories of money stem from.
You’ve taken the idea from an individual to a societal level in my thinking… Can a scarcity mindset affect us collectively as well as individually? 🤷♀️
In the village of my youth, 500 strong, it was understood that if an adult caught one of us children misbehaving, a spanking would result. Then, once that adult called our parents, a second spanking awaited at home!
I love this discussion as I am in Slow Foods Seed Summit for the weekend. I have been hearing so many stories around $ and the destructive ways the earth has been used. But I have also heard many stories of hope, of coming together to heal and use regenerative practices to farm food locally. Especially needed now with the prices of diesel and more importantly for our health.
Having a degree in horticulture of practices that I never fully bought into like GMO seeds, herbicide’s and pesticides, and chemical fertilizers I feel that our soil is screaming.
My Great Grandparents were from Sicily - my great grandmother came in 1905 and then later sent for the rest of her family. When they came they brought seeds, and vines with them to plant at their home. In Sicily they grew olives groves, grove by grove were taken from them by the Mafia. Until they were shoved in one room (7 people), while the Mafia took over their home.
They came for a better life. They saved, bought a home and invited any family member to be with them until they could get their own home. Meals were all eaten together. When the depression came my great grandmother held mortgages for everyone she could so no one would lose their homes. Long after she passed these people would come to the house and give the money to my Grandmother.
She gardened every piece of her property so that she could share it. She canned tomatoes, and many other vegetables, my great grandfather built her a root cellar to store everything she could to last for the winter. He made the wine so that they could have it for their meals which also was a tradition.
The whole neighborhood benefited. And maybe that is what we need to come back to helping our community. Food is love, it’s how I was raised. Hence my passion for cooking.
When my rational brain tries to “fix”… big, complex, interwoven, “wicked” problems, I find myself confused and frustrated.
In Flourishing Fictions I touched on this with the contradiction I see around Norman Bourlag… who I believe is the father of hybridization/GMO. He’s credited with saving millions of lives from starvation. OTOH… what are the long term effects?🤷♀️
This leaves me walking into faith that there is a divine wisdom who’ll direct us aright if we walk forward in love instead of fear… like the stories you have shared above about your ancestors Sharon. Thank you! Your grandmother sounds like a gem! No doubt she passed it along!
Likely there are many who will see such a belief as naive? And my only response to that is to lean on Robert Frost… “I know one thing about life, it goes on.”
Think of the fun we can have “going on” from a perspective of wonder and possibility!
What a wonderful share! My head has just stopped bobbing up and down now.😁 If I were to comment I’d be hard pressed to know where to start! I’ll just say this: when late 50’s/early 60’s saw the messaging to abandon single bread winner households (my family) for both parents working, we began the disintegration of families literally and figuratively. Jobs with large corporations pressured employees with promotions that demanded relocation to the next job. And disruptions to children’s schooling, neighbors, friends. In a flash, not knowing our neighbors became common. Too busy, especially, for women as breadwinners and homemakers and soccer moms. Diets, physical activity, and the time for families to be families all suffered. Stress skyrocketed, as did divorces. So the notion of extended families, having each other’s back, cooperation for the greater good, and multiple generations under the same roof is: Whimsical, old fashioned, impractical, unworkable? Or: Planful, time proven, more economical, and affords time to live and be. As a family, as neighbors, as parents able to make teacher conferences. Where’s the downside?
The conversation you just added has been my thoughts forever! Mom had to stop mothering, taking care of the homes, their spouses, everything became stress, and yes divorce skyrocketed. The displacement of people leaving their “neighborhood”, for work and then having to keep up with the Jones’ was a lot for many. It still is! How about the 2 car families that were a necessity and no more a luxury? Equality? It was a ploy to get everyone out of the house on the hamster wheel.
I crave the times of my family all being here together. My youngest son (I have two boys 30 and 28) lives in Berlin Germany. He was with me at home for 7 whole weeks during Christmas break and beyond because of paperwork for his dog going back to Germany with him. It was wonderful to cook for him, eat and share stories together. I never had that with JUST him before. My oldest had just moved back to Colorado the month before. The opportunity to relish moments like this are paramount.
Just a line from my last class that just ended. One of the Authors title of her book is “What kind of Ancestor do you want to be?” Something to ponder.
Fossil watches were a big deal for a while. Now I’m thinking a simple baseball cap bearing the word might serve to warn unsuspecting strangers of my lack of modernity.
The question posed by the author’s book is wonderful. My mother’s sister took responsibility until her death to log every member of the extended family. Dating back several generations and then carrying forward, with marriages, children, passings. I passed my copy to my son. Family reunions on my mom’s side often had a hundred or more in attendance!
This conversation is making me nostalgic for the Sundays in my youth when everyone would gather at my grandparents or… we’d pile in the Impala and drive to visit cousins/second cousins.
I shared recently about the constraints imposed for visiting relatives after Sunday church services. Straight backed chairs against the wall, before and after the meal. “Seen and not heard.” During one such visit, an adult relative asked what I wanted to be when I grew up. Without hesitation, I replied, “A fire truck.” Relative quickly corrected, “You mean a fire man.” Not prone to hunker down in such encounters, I rattled off some of the apparent firetruck features, and concluded, “Who wouldn’t want to be a firetruck?” That wrapped up our chat!
My story around money is... oblivious to me. It was suggested to me that we each have a story about money many months ago, and yet nothing. My degree in economics would suggest it's about utility, rational actors, and min/maxing but that's hooey. I guess it'll just have to remain in the "ruminating" category.
My stories around money run deep. I have been excavating for a long time.
I grew up with frugality and cost as a consideration in almost every purchase. Then once the purchase was made, there was a story to tell about the deal you got. In adulthood when I started catching myself telling those stories I’d find myself embarrassed after the words came out of my mouth.
I shudder to think of everything I missed out on because I couldn’t get a deal on it or because “it cost too much.”
I now sometimes sneak back to the table and leave extra tip money after somebody I know leaves their “percentage amount” that they’ve read is reasonable. 😂
I do not have a shred of scientific evidence, but it becomes more and more clear to me that what we put out comes back to us.
Happy ruminating! Thanks for joining us in comments today! ♥️
I, too, grew up in a family with limited income for most of my childhood. Prices were always a consideration. We qualified for “Surplus Food,” a government program that helped growers by buying their crops when surpluses drove prices down. We benefitted by getting boxes with flour, powdered milk, cheese, lard, and perhaps several others. Mom baked extensively. She sewed our shirts and jeans for school wear. One pair of shoes was to last a full year.
Many years later I met a designer involved in a renovation project I managed. The first time I suggested a cost-effective alternative the designer replied, “I was raised in an environment where cost didn’t matter. The “look” of a garment, the “feel” of a new sofa, etc. was the determinant. Not the least ostentatious, simply suggesting that cost-effectiveness wouldn’t factor in to her recommendations.
We worked together effectively as she helped me understand how she specified details and products for a project.
The owner had no concern over the costs of the designer’s decisions. She, too, wanted the right look and feel. As with other projects I managed, meeting owner’s expectations was requisite.
Is it possible that sharing an occasional rumination here (3mm) would be fruitful?My sense of the people herein is one of diversity, intelligence, and thoughtfulness mixed with kindness. Answers? Possibly. Ideas for further ruminating? I’d not be surprised.
I once heard of a woman who started a business around “fierce conversations”. The name alone gave Calliope chills.
Thank you for your observation that 3mm is a new kind of safe space — where one can show up with authentic thoughts and be met with curiosity and a spirit of gentleness — a place where ideas can mix and mingle in an atmosphere of growth and learning.
My father’s parents operated a general store and their town Post Office. During the not so Great Depression, everyone needed food, dry goods, and other life essentials to survive. Not all had money. Such folks bartered whenever possible. Milk from cows. Eggs from their chickens. Produce from their gardens. Sometimes an oversupply of such items offered in barter rendered their value slight, if at all. Dire business for those lacking dollars. Heart breaking for dad’s parents. A sad convolution in the energy exchange. I wonder about the people who lacked currency? Their fates?
So I offer thanks for today’s post and pictures from last night’s performance. My apologies for a “downer” take on the money/energy part of the post.
Not a downer… my father is a product if the depression and I suspect that where some of my stories of money stem from.
You’ve taken the idea from an individual to a societal level in my thinking… Can a scarcity mindset affect us collectively as well as individually? 🤷♀️
Thanks for being here!
T-shirt: “They say, ‘It takes a village to raise a child.’ Sooo… do they just show up? Do I need to call someone?” 😁
Text seems more likely in today’s world! 😂
Yes!
🤣 Yeah - I needed that phone number when my kids were little.
In the village of my youth, 500 strong, it was understood that if an adult caught one of us children misbehaving, a spanking would result. Then, once that adult called our parents, a second spanking awaited at home!
I love this discussion as I am in Slow Foods Seed Summit for the weekend. I have been hearing so many stories around $ and the destructive ways the earth has been used. But I have also heard many stories of hope, of coming together to heal and use regenerative practices to farm food locally. Especially needed now with the prices of diesel and more importantly for our health.
Having a degree in horticulture of practices that I never fully bought into like GMO seeds, herbicide’s and pesticides, and chemical fertilizers I feel that our soil is screaming.
My Great Grandparents were from Sicily - my great grandmother came in 1905 and then later sent for the rest of her family. When they came they brought seeds, and vines with them to plant at their home. In Sicily they grew olives groves, grove by grove were taken from them by the Mafia. Until they were shoved in one room (7 people), while the Mafia took over their home.
They came for a better life. They saved, bought a home and invited any family member to be with them until they could get their own home. Meals were all eaten together. When the depression came my great grandmother held mortgages for everyone she could so no one would lose their homes. Long after she passed these people would come to the house and give the money to my Grandmother.
She gardened every piece of her property so that she could share it. She canned tomatoes, and many other vegetables, my great grandfather built her a root cellar to store everything she could to last for the winter. He made the wine so that they could have it for their meals which also was a tradition.
The whole neighborhood benefited. And maybe that is what we need to come back to helping our community. Food is love, it’s how I was raised. Hence my passion for cooking.
Rant over! Happy Sunday! Cure!
When my rational brain tries to “fix”… big, complex, interwoven, “wicked” problems, I find myself confused and frustrated.
In Flourishing Fictions I touched on this with the contradiction I see around Norman Bourlag… who I believe is the father of hybridization/GMO. He’s credited with saving millions of lives from starvation. OTOH… what are the long term effects?🤷♀️
This leaves me walking into faith that there is a divine wisdom who’ll direct us aright if we walk forward in love instead of fear… like the stories you have shared above about your ancestors Sharon. Thank you! Your grandmother sounds like a gem! No doubt she passed it along!
Likely there are many who will see such a belief as naive? And my only response to that is to lean on Robert Frost… “I know one thing about life, it goes on.”
Think of the fun we can have “going on” from a perspective of wonder and possibility!
Thank you Gail!
What a wonderful share! My head has just stopped bobbing up and down now.😁 If I were to comment I’d be hard pressed to know where to start! I’ll just say this: when late 50’s/early 60’s saw the messaging to abandon single bread winner households (my family) for both parents working, we began the disintegration of families literally and figuratively. Jobs with large corporations pressured employees with promotions that demanded relocation to the next job. And disruptions to children’s schooling, neighbors, friends. In a flash, not knowing our neighbors became common. Too busy, especially, for women as breadwinners and homemakers and soccer moms. Diets, physical activity, and the time for families to be families all suffered. Stress skyrocketed, as did divorces. So the notion of extended families, having each other’s back, cooperation for the greater good, and multiple generations under the same roof is: Whimsical, old fashioned, impractical, unworkable? Or: Planful, time proven, more economical, and affords time to live and be. As a family, as neighbors, as parents able to make teacher conferences. Where’s the downside?
Thanks so much for your great share!
Gary:
The conversation you just added has been my thoughts forever! Mom had to stop mothering, taking care of the homes, their spouses, everything became stress, and yes divorce skyrocketed. The displacement of people leaving their “neighborhood”, for work and then having to keep up with the Jones’ was a lot for many. It still is! How about the 2 car families that were a necessity and no more a luxury? Equality? It was a ploy to get everyone out of the house on the hamster wheel.
I crave the times of my family all being here together. My youngest son (I have two boys 30 and 28) lives in Berlin Germany. He was with me at home for 7 whole weeks during Christmas break and beyond because of paperwork for his dog going back to Germany with him. It was wonderful to cook for him, eat and share stories together. I never had that with JUST him before. My oldest had just moved back to Colorado the month before. The opportunity to relish moments like this are paramount.
Just a line from my last class that just ended. One of the Authors title of her book is “What kind of Ancestor do you want to be?” Something to ponder.
Cure!
Fossil watches were a big deal for a while. Now I’m thinking a simple baseball cap bearing the word might serve to warn unsuspecting strangers of my lack of modernity.
The question posed by the author’s book is wonderful. My mother’s sister took responsibility until her death to log every member of the extended family. Dating back several generations and then carrying forward, with marriages, children, passings. I passed my copy to my son. Family reunions on my mom’s side often had a hundred or more in attendance!
Ancestors indeed!
This conversation is making me nostalgic for the Sundays in my youth when everyone would gather at my grandparents or… we’d pile in the Impala and drive to visit cousins/second cousins.
I shared recently about the constraints imposed for visiting relatives after Sunday church services. Straight backed chairs against the wall, before and after the meal. “Seen and not heard.” During one such visit, an adult relative asked what I wanted to be when I grew up. Without hesitation, I replied, “A fire truck.” Relative quickly corrected, “You mean a fire man.” Not prone to hunker down in such encounters, I rattled off some of the apparent firetruck features, and concluded, “Who wouldn’t want to be a firetruck?” That wrapped up our chat!
What a beautiful story, Sharon.