A penny pinching and frugal sort of people we are in our household. By design we are careful with money and do all that we can to prevent waste of any kind. It is in our nature both personally and as a couple to be less extravagant and more careful. Having had families that shared these traits and taught them to us from the time we were babes on the knee made it an ingrained fundamental.
But sometimes, fundamental on savings just becomes mental... and I'm talking rubber room, white jacket with extra long sleeves mental.
Witness our latest moment of frugality gone awry.
With the disposition of worldly goods from my father's life estate, there have been many things among the carefully saved items that have blessed our life and most certainly the lives of my siblings and their families.
We have stored up dry packed foodstuffs against the lean times and in recent memory due to Rick's job circumstance we were thankful to have them upon which we could lean. I know food storage isn't big sexy Hollyweird glamor to most people. But in this house there isn't much sexier than being able to eat more than once a week.
As part of the stocks of foods carefully shepherded to our storage fold was some dry beverage mix in various flavors with the indicated and expected contents color and taste displayed on the label.
The other day, Rick brought in a container boldly proclaiming its status as "lemonade". We opened the container to find that the sugary mix had become the hardened consistency of a mortar round. It was roughly the same color as well. I was not amused.
Rick said we should get it chipped up and see if it was salvageable. Not being enthusiastic about this venture, I mentioned that as it didn't look right and as I was extremely certain that dish washing liquid contains more lemon based upon the sniff test that this might not be safe to drink.
After about two days of "working at it" to produce anything resembling a powdered drink mix, I was ready to call it a day and, in the words of the current popular Disney movie Frozen, "Let It Go!". Rick was not there yet and tenaciously hoped to save a few pennies for our family.
Sometimes the mental part of the fundamental equation is truly a hilarious addition to our marriage relationship. I admire that pioneer spirit. Really I do. I am appreciative of it every single day because it is how we survive in a very expensive world. What I am not too sure of appreciating is BROWN lemonade.
That's right happy campers - the lemonade was BROWN. B - R - O - W - N. Brown.
Now, I do not know about you or what kind of lifestyle you may lead in your zip code, it really isn't mine to judge, but in THIS little Alabama gals experience lemonade is most assuredly NOT brown. Not even a brownish tint. Lemonade is YELLOW. Cheerful, ebullient, inviting YELLOW.
Alas, that was not the color in the pitcher.
Most happily, Rick said "you come taste this!".
Looking upon the pitcher's contents, my stomach rolled as if on the high seas in a gale and I said "Uh, NO!"
I REFUSE TO BE THE SACRIFICIAL GUINEA PIG!!
I REFUSE!!
He plunged in for a quick taste test. Pronouncing that there was "not quite enough of the mix in it yet", he added more and stirred anew. He took a second furtive sip and then brought me enough for my sampling pleasure.
Fair enough, I've drunk band camp swamp water and scout camp swamp water and McDonald's end of shift swamp water for a sufficient number of years to be relatively immune to odd colored beverages.
I took the tiniest sip that all creation would allow.
Let me tell you brothers and sisters, I was thankful - THANKFUL I TELL YOU - that I keep a garbage can by my desk.
Why, you ask?
Because I spit that foul, wretched faintly lemon scented brown swamp water right into the trash!
I demanded that he throw it all out.
Rick wanted to simply add more of the mix because it "tasted kind of flat". Campers, there was not enough of the mix in all of Christendom to have made that palatable!! GROSS! NASTY!! YUCK!!!
Upon further reflection, and as he viewed the dismal coloration of the offending beverage, he reluctantly agreed.
Children, the moral to the story is this: when you have to apply so generous amount of the powdered mix to have created TWO complete batches instead of just one and are STILL contemplating the addition of even MORE of the brownish chunkage, and when the heretofore mentioned amount STILL does not create anything worth drinking, it is time to call it a day and turn out the lights on this attempt at saving money.
I am not even convinced that the application of the entire container would have produced anything resembling a drinkable beverage but instead just a brown slurry of sticky goo unfit for human consumption.
Rick dumped the chunky mess of what was alleged to be drink powder into the field next to us. To have put it into our garbage would have been an invitation to every critter in nine counties to come taste it and perhaps die on our property. I can't handle that kind of mess.
So, as a recap, lemonade should be YELLOW, not brown.
You aren't saving money if you have to use an inordinately larger amount of ANYTHING to produce the results the package says you can get with a lesser amount.
And sometimes you have to learn to let it go.
But, because I know that there are born skeptics out there, I promise that I will save the very next can of alleged beverage mix for you.
You may conduct your own experiment on its value and taste.
Just do one thing for me first.
Make your life insurance policy out to me, because when you croak from drinking it, I'd like to be able to bury you more decently than I have buried frogs, lizards and a hermit crab. My back yard is running out of funeral space and our garbage men will only take so many dead bodies to the landfill before even they will become suspicious.
