Is it time for the Page household to tighten its financial belt?
The latest cost of living crisis has reared its ugly head in our humble abode this week.
So much so, in fact, my personal Minister of Finance has suggested we might have to tighten our belts a bit.
This has come as something of a shock to my good self, particularly when I consider the belt that was already tight now feels like it’s looping round my midriff at least twice.
And worse is to come.
In the absence of any sponsorship deal for this column on the horizon Mrs P says I might have to think about reducing my weekly BP Wild Bean large moccachino coffee intake.
That thud you just heard was my jaw hitting the floor.
Anyway, here’s the thing.
This has all come about because of a block of cheese.
Now, we all know cheese prices have gone through the roof lately. I’m told it’s indicative of the “current economic situation”.
Normally when I hear phrases like that I start nodding off, but I’ll admit there is also an element of burying one’s head in the sand about it. As you do.
Thankfully, there are things we can do about it before any sand gets up your nostrils.
Like go halves in a cow and make your own cheese – one of the suggestions put to Mrs P as she and this other woman stared at the price of a 1kg block of cheese at the supermarket last week.
Effectively what this lady was saying was Do It Yourself which, as any Kiwi bloke knows, is outlined very clearly as the best option for pretty much everything on page 57, section 4, sub section 2E. of the Man Law handbook.
Which brings me to my attempts to plug the hole in our fiscal sinkhole this week.
Long story short I need a metal thing with a hole in it.
I’ve got a metal thing without a hole in it but, as per Man Law (see above), I can switch into DIY mode and put a hole in it myself, thus saving money and earning some Brownie points from My Beloved.
Trouble is, the tool I need to put the hole in the metal thing is in a storage unit miles away.
No drama. I’ll go get it. So off I drive. Half hour there. Can’t find it anywhere. Half hour back. Lots of diesel used up.
Kerching! So far this hole I need has cost me about $20 and I’ve got nothing to show for it.
Okay. Plan B. The Scottish Plumber will have the necessary tools. So I drive there and sure enough he’s got all the gear and within 10 minutes we’re into it. Drilling a hole in this metal thing.
So that’s another $2 diesel.
Then disaster. The drill bit breaks and the broken end is stuck partway into the hole we’ve been drilling. He hasn’t got the tools to get it out so we head off to buy them.
Add another $14.
Eventually, we’re back at the workbench but we still can’t sort it. The Scottish Plumber has lost his glasses and can’t see properly and my arthritis is rendering my “holding” hand useless.
So we go over to his next-door neighbour.
He’s one of those young guys who can do anything. Has every tool ever invented and is an expert in their use. His garage is like a shrine. Angels hover above singing heavenly music as we walk in, bowing our heads in due reverence.
The Scottish Plumber explains the situation to the Garage Guru and while we are gawping in amazement at the power tools neatly stacked on the purpose-built shelving, he has set about removing the stuck bit.
Then he has carefully completed the hole and, just for good measure, found another tool to smooth off any sharp edges.
I bow again and the Scottish Plumber and I back away from the shrine, leaving the Garage Guru bathed in a shaft of heavenly light which has emerged from above.
Although, it’s possible that might just have been from the fluorescent tube which went on above his head when his wife popped in to get something out of the freezer.
Anyway. Job done.
Naturally, as per the Man Law handbook, page 23, section 2, sub section 7E, I drive to the bottle store and purchase a few beers, which I then deliver to Garage Guru for his trouble.
So you can add another $18 to the total.
As I drive back to my beloved, I’m mentally adding up the costs involved in getting this hole in a piece of metal.
Gulp! It’s $54.
I could have bought a piece of metal with the hole already in it for $19.99.
Okay. So now I’ve got to explain the expenditure to Mrs P.
I don’t know about you Dear Reader but I always find the best way to deliver bad news is sit down with a coffee and plan your approach first.
And that’s what I did. At BP Wild Bean. Of course I opted for a small-sized coffee this time, though.
I figured I might try to save a bit of money.