My Mother the CFO

Mother's Big Apple

My parents never went to New York. I doubt they even knew the city's nickname was the big apple. In our house, The Big Apple meant financial management. My parents worked hard in blue-collar jobs to make ends meet. Somehow they kept the bills paid and their spoiled-rotten daughter in Bobbie Brooks clothes and Bass Weejuns.

My earliest memories of payday found my mother at the kitchen table with The Big Apple. Inside were mysterious pieces of paper and the checkbook. I later learned the pieces of paper were bills to be paid or receipts saved for income tax filing. I knew The Big Apple was important because she kept it high on top the refrigerator out of my reach. 

As I grew older, I was trusted with The Big Apple. Mother would say "Get me The Big Apple." I knew that meant she had financial business. Either she needed to pay bills or organize receipts for our income taxes. Daddy deferred all financial responsibilities to Mother. He'd bring in a receipt and ask, "Want me to put this in The Big Apple?"

Years later, after I'd married and moved away, Mother and Daddy maintained The Big Apple method of financial management, and it apparently worked for them. With their spoiled-rotten daughter gone, they emerged from debt and even managed to save enough to retire. It wasn't until I was in my thirties that I saw another big apple at an antique store and learned it was a semi-valuable collectible cookie jar. Cookie jar? I doubt Mother's big apple ever held a cookie in its life. 

Both my parents are gone and my family has divided their few possessions. I am now the proud owner of The Big Apple. I don't use it for a cookie jar or a file cabinet. It sits empty in a place of honor in my own kitchen to remind me of my family "riches." Mother and Daddy may not have had financial wealth, but they gave my sister and me a secure, loving childhood that's worth more than gold.

Do you have something displayed in your home to remind you of your childhood? Do share.

The Chill Factor

I'm on deadline and have no time for this, but I am shopping for a new refrigerator. I would rather shop for a new car or a new dishwasher. Just about anything else! I dread cleaning out the old, moving it (we're keeping it. It goes into my husband's garage), cleaning the embarrassing dirt hidden behind/beneath it, etc. Agh! When am I supposed to do all this when I'm trying to write my romance novel?

It's quite a process. After all, buying a refrigerator is a commitment. It's an appliance I hope to live with at least 20 years, although my current model is only 11. It works great. So why am I putting myself through this angst?

BECAUSE THE BLASTED THING IS TOO BIG!

I thought I wanted 26 cubic feet with double door, etc. Yet it sticks out into my kitchen like a giant footstool. Two people don't need 26 cubic feet, especially if they have a second model plus a chest freezer in the garage. So I'm downsizing.

Husband and I agreed on the following criteria:

• Must be made in USA
• Must have external ice/water dispenser 
• Must be counter-depth
• Must be no taller than 69.8"
• Must be Energy Star rated
• Must be either white or stainless steel

We discovered few models fit our criteria. Or our kitchen space. Funny how many refrigerators are 70"+ tall. Not that many qualify as Energy Star, either, but that's a must for us. But we've narrowed it down to a couple. Right now the frontrunner is a Maytag 20.6 cu. ft that fits all the criteria. And it's on sale at Lowe's! 

But we're still shopping. Stay tuned in the new refrigerator shopping saga.