The Latest Escapade With Daniel

I am my father's daughter, so naturally, he has instilled in me an inherent sense of a good and bad price for something. As you heard, my sewing machine broke down in the depths of an important (to me) project, so I was quite intrigued by a call from Mrs. T. that she was at an estate sale, and had seen a machine. Somewhat assured that it was in good condition, Mama persuaded Daniel to take me down to the sale, and inspect it. Before we left, her parting admonition was: "Offer 30 dollars!" (they asked for 50 originally)
Those of you who know me, will realize that I am quite shy around strangers. We first stopped at a house with a "garage sale" sign in the yard. After knocking on the front and side doors, we determined that it was, indeed, the wrong house! *blush* This unnerved me a bit. We drove further down the road, and found the estate sale. After getting out of the van, we were met at the door by a meek, pale, elderly man with a small moustache. He held the door open, and his wife met us indoors. Daniel, thankfully, did the talking for me: "My sister was looking for a sewing machine?" The woman ushered us into a cluttered room, where a vintage sewing machine sat upon a table amongst a motley array of other items. She was not a seamstress herself, but I sat down, and tried the machine. It sewed in a strange fashion, so I checked, and discovered it to be threaded entirely incorrectly. That being remedied, we soon determined it was a suitable machine for my needs. The only thing now was to offer the thirty dollars. My bashfulness was heightened by the sensibility of this being the pale, meek, elderly man's late mother's sewing machine. I did not want to haggle with them! A desperate plan entered my head. "Daniel!" I hissed, beckoning to him. He returned to my side. "You pay for this! Offer thirty dollars! I'll be out in the car!" and with that, I prepared to flee. But Sarah hemmed me in while my good brother, who will not allow me to slip out of things said, "You must pay."
"But how?!? Please Daniel!" (Obviously my face was neither endearing nor pitiful enough to sway him) "No Rachel, you must just ask them if they are firm on the price!"
I gathered my courage. On the way over, I had played the whole scene out in my head, being a shrewd enough haggler: I would offer 30 dollars, but expect to pay 40, and haggle up to that.
The woman came back into the room. "Well?" she said with a tiny hint of impatience.
"Are...are you all firm on the price?" I asked, sounding to my ears dreadfully cold. She glanced at the machine. "I could maybe give it to you for 40."
Rejoicing, I snapped up the price without haggling. There is where I left behind Dad's teaching. I followed the woman out of the room, trying not to squirm as she whispered the diminished price to the meek, pale, elderly gentleman with the very small moustache. I felt, somewhere behind me, the rolling over of the dearly departed in her grave. ;) I blushingly paid the price, and fled to the car with a polite, "Thank you!"
When I got home, I announced the price to Dad, and told him the story. He merely smiled. "If they offered to decrease it to 40 right off the bat, you surely could have gotten it for 25 dollars!" and he shook his head sagely. But all's well that ends well! I still have much to learn from Dad, but I've now got a working machine! :D -Rachel

Frugal or Frivolous?

I wanted to post something different-ish today. Okay. We have a customer who has two cars. One's license plate says "Froogal" the other, "Frivolous" (I can't remember how she abbreviates it.) Which one am I? I have often wondered if I am one of Dad's children who is good with their money like he always says we are. Sarah won't spend money unless she really has to. Does that mean I go on shopping sprees all the time? (no) But I like it when I get something new! Do I like spending money more than I like saving it? Alright, so I may not be Senorita Tight-Wad ;) but Dad has certainly trained me to be frugal. And I think I have learned the lesson well. The symptoms that we have listened to all Dad's lessons? When we say we need more clothes, we are excited about going to a thrift-store. You can get the best clothes for a pretty good price there! When someone says they got a new couch our first reaction is, "So who gave it to you?" or "Where did you find it?" When we (in our wildest dreams) think of getting a new 15 passenger, we immediately assume that Dad will find us a great deal on a used van. Another symptom- until I was 11 or so, I didn't know Taco-Bell sold anything but the 89 cent bean-burritoes or hard tacos. Now I know differently, but guess what? Those are still my favorite things to buy there! Yet another thing: when I decide that I'd like to keep my eye out for a particular item, I do not rush to the nearest store and buy that thing new. Dad has trained us to look in the Trading Post, on Craig's List, and places like that. I finally decided that I was pretty good with my money when last night I bought a 10 dollar Celtic folk-songs c.d. from Wal*Mart and spent nearly the whole drive home assuring myself that I could splurge 10 dollars on something I've wanted for awhile. So all this to say, thanks Dad for teaching us to think twice before taking out our wallets! -Rachel