To a lesser extent, the same attitude applied to our many credit cards: if we got into a jam, we could always charge our way out of it. As long as we made the minimum payments, we were able to block out the bigger, darker picture that we were painting with our financial misfires. Finally, drowning in debt, we turned to debt management. Which helped us, but which also meant that we no longer had access to a single dollar of credit.

Then some major extra sources of income dried up, and we were both hit with pay reductions due to furlough days, and I received notice of a potential lay-off, and it just seemed that everything we counted on was gone. 2009 was a rough year. My dad’s death left my mother less financially secure than we had expected, and so we have to assume that we will one day be her support, rather than vice versa. We realized we were really, truly, starkly on our own.

We have now been surviving on our thinner wallets for half a year – one tenth of our pay-off time to being credit-card-debt-free – and obviously the sky is not falling. We have done without a lot of things, and we are still smiling. The money issues are all going to work out, as long as we keep up our end of the deal. We will again feel financially supported, as long as we continue to make healthy decisions. We will survive. We will, I daresay, thrive.

The empty space my dad has left will never be filled. Even so, to quote St. Julian of Norwich, “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”

But me being me I wonder what people must think of me as I get into my car. Invariably, in many parking lots,  I’ll have to get into my car at the same time someone is getting into their car. They head in on their driver’s side and I’m heading in on my passenger’s side. Do I make them nervous – this guy getting in on the wrong side of the car?

I tend to have several things in my hands as I approach my car – backpack, lunch bag, coat, extra books etc. So I convince myself that it’s perfectly normal for me to go to the passenger’s side and put all this stuff I’m carrying in that way. Then I just casually lean over and unlock the driver’s side door. It’s all perfectly natural – right?

Sometimes I think that if anyone asks me why I always go to the passenger’s side first – I’ll just tell them I’m ex -CIA and this is just SOP for car bombs. That somehow by opening the wrong door first disarms them. I obviously need to let this go.

The point is that it’s now a habit. I’m reprogrammed to go to the passenger’s side first – no matter who owns the car. I no longer am embarrassed by trying to be the driver of a friend’s car. I just naturally go to the passenger side.

I’d love to get the door fixed – I’ve priced it a couple of times. Have come close to having the money to get the repairs done. But right now it’s just too big a hit to the budget. So I wait, I plot, I whine internally and I use the passenger’s side of my car as my entry point. Maybe someday someone will t-bone me in the driver’s side – just enough for me to need a new door. I can only wish.

Now, however, we rarely fill our can. Buying more food in bulk cuts down on expensive packaging that goes right into the trash. We buy less in general – fulfilling the needs but not the wants – and as a result we throw less away. We have always recycled beverage containers, so the real difference must be attributed to our leaner budget.

It’s been difficult, to put it mildly, to rein in our former extravagant spending habits, especially on the daily little things that once seemed like no big deal. So it feels good to notice a positive byproduct of our frugality. There have been many spiritual revelations as a result of our new way of living, but the trash is a small, comforting, tangible bit of evidence that we are on a good path.

Due to our drastic financial constraints, I was worried about this Christmas. We have never financed a cash-only Christmas for our kids. Our excess of credit has been preserved on the carefully catalogued videotapes from over two decades of Christmas mornings, which we watch faithfully every year. As we watched this year, I squirmed with misgiving as I pictured the austerity that was coming on this Christmas morning.

This Christmas, the amount we spent on all four girls was the amount we used to spend on each of them. We gave them a little talk before Christmas, to let them know not to expect much. On Christmas Eve, the two gifts we put out for each of them seemed meager.

Yet, on Christmas morning, the girls were filled with sweetness and gratitude, and gushed over the things they received. They were probably more excited about the presents they were giving than the ones they received. I reflected that the poor economy was perhaps a blessing in disguise (although I rather agree with Winston Churchill’s assessment of that saying, that it was a blessing “very much in disguise . . .”). Our Christmas spirit seemed stronger than ever.

After being so worried about disappointing my girls, I find that I underestimated them, their grace, their good outlook, their appreciation, their perception of what really matters. “I didn’t think we were getting anything,” confided one of them later. “I was just happy to have all of us together.”

Another Epiphany for which to be grateful.

But things have changed and I no longer have the luxury of going on grocery store shopping adventures. Now, I get exactly what’s on the list. I look for the best bargain and many times end up with brand names I have never heard of and will never see a commercial for.

I spend as little as possible and never buy anything we already have. So if we have brown basmati rice I don’t buy brown long grain rice because I want something different. During these times brown rice is brown rice and I get whatever is cheapest.

This month we ran out of olive oil. I love olive oil – it’s what I cook with almost exclusively. I sauté in it, make dressing with it and even use it to oil the can opener. It is my preferred oil. It is my go-to oil. It is the oil of my life. You get the picture.

But we ran out.

And there were still other oils in the pantry. Corn oil. Canola oil. Even some Crisco my wife uses for Christmas baking. I could not justify buying more oil simply because it was not the type I love and cherish.

I made do. It was hard. It sucked. I hated it. I threw a tantrum in my mind. I wanted olive oil. Cold pressed extra virgin organic olive oil. I wanted it bad. I was jonesing for the stuff. Every time I went to the grocery store I would find myself in front of the oils – mentally arguing with myself, trying to rationalize a need for the olive oil I so desperately needed (wanted).

The good news: I made it the whole month. I used cooking oils that previously I have distained. I survived.

And on payday I bought the biggest, cheapest cold pressed olive oil I could find. I have never appreciated olive oil like I do now. I use it sparingly. I almost hoard it. I did pass on the organic this time. But maybe I’ll get a bottle for Christmas.

2. Water the lawn half as much as you think you need to

3. Take shorter showers: don’t space out!

4. Wear a sweater in the winter – in the house.

5. Get rid of any extra freezers or refrigerators or other appliances that require constant electricity

6. Go to free public events: you’ll meet your neighbors.

7. Rediscover the public library. Note the due dates on the calendar!

8. Recycle for the money (and for the planet)

9. Up the number of exemptions you take on your federal tax withholding

10. Cook meals from scratch: sorting and soaking beans can be fun!

And as a result I miss certain things.

• I miss being able to buy the fund raising product the little kid down the street is selling to support his school.
• I miss being able to send my kids money just to help out.
• I miss going out to the movies.
• I miss buying people lunch.
• I miss buying myself lunch.
• I miss not feeling guilty when I spend $5 at Walgreens.

But there are some things that I’m doing now – that are different and that I’m enjoying.

• I’m enjoying cooking again and especially looking at new recipes.
• I like thinking about ways to make everyones Christmas present.
• I like taking walks (they’re free!)
• I like not worrying about what I’m buying next.
• I like how this is actually bringing Valerie and I closer.

Bottom line – I know this will pass. Someday we’ll be out of this hole and this is the necessary part of the journey. I just wish it would happen faster.

2. Only shop weekly for what you will use in one week

3. Avoid brand names or items not on sale

4. Use coupons

5. Ask for rain checks for items on weekly specials

6. Make iced tea out of the zillions of eclectic tea bags in the pantry

7. Plant a vegetable garden, but plant vegetables that you actually like

8. Buy staples like grains and baking ingredients out of the bins at bulk stores

9. Only go out to dinner on birthdays

10. Bring apples in the car so you don’t buy overpriced snacks when you get gas

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I read this and I feel bad for the many people who are having trouble putting food on the table. We are blessed those of us who only have to make small sacrifices each day. We’ve had to change where we shop and lost a few “luxuary” foods. But I do not go to bed hungry.

2. Raised the deductible for our car insurance policies, which reduced our premiums

3. Asked for and got a lower mortgage rate on our second mortgage (just by calling the bank – this was easy as pie)

4. Reduced our TV cable bill by dropping some channels (not quite ready to get rid of cable altogether, especially during football season)

5. Switched to Redbox for movie rentals instead of Blockbuster (especially when we get free Redbox rental coupons via e-mail)

6. Recycled our extra freezer in the garage (which reduced our electric bill and scored us $50 from Edison)

7. Changed our home phone provider to our cable provider, which reduced our phone bill by $15 a month

8. Started paying cash for gas (often a lower price than that for using a card)

9. Discovered grocery shopping at Winco, especially in the bulk/bin section

10. Washed our own damn cars