Store Bought: Part 6

My dad taught us that you don’t buy anything that you already have. When my parents purchased our house, there was no plumbing, just an outhouse in the backyard. My dad used the boards from the outhouse walls as wainscoting in the new, real bathroom that he made for us which has plumbing and electricity.

My dad taught us that you don’t buy anything you can make for yourself. A few winters ago, he asked to borrow my sewing machine and spent a weekend cutting and stitching together new fabric for his snowmobile seat. It didn’t look like a craft project when he was done with it, either. It was sleek and professional. Dad taught us that you don’t throw away something you can reuse. When the old movie theater in town was being demolished, my dad went and found old wrought iron railings that were going to be thrown out. They now adorn our staircase.

He taught us that you don’t buy something new that is just as good used. Our kitchen stove was made in 1917. It’s the kind that’s pearly white, and has long sleek legs, because the oven and stove are side by side. No one had thought to stack them yet.

He taught us that you don’t throw things out if you can fix them. My dad bought his snowmobile suit the year I was born for fifty cents at a yard sale. He still wears it, and every few weeks during the winter, he sits on the couch with a sewing needle, dental floss as thread, and patches the knees or the pockets or the zipper.

My dad has systems for cutting wood, stacking wood, and storing wood. Every year he makes new plans and sometimes draws little sketches in his notebook of how he will stack the wood this year so that we can fit enough in our garage to last us from the end of September though the beginning of May. Last year we didn’t have to turn on the thermostat for the oil furnace once, because we were able to keep the woodstove burning all winter long. My dad taught us that you don’t buy stuff you don’t need.

As a kid, these were difficult concepts to accept. New stuff is exciting. Did you know that other families have linoleum floors? In other houses, there’s a window on the oven door, and you can see dinner cooking without even opening it. Have you ever seen a movie on a big screen TV? It’s amazing.

As a young adult with a budget, though, it’s convenient to have grown up with a “cheap, cheap man,” as my brother, Josh, used to call him. There are so many things that people think they need – or want to need. Like anyone, I covet the unnecessaries – trendy nail polish, cell phones with lots of tiny buttons, cell phones with no buttons, and limited edition ice cream – but it’s more comforting than inconvenient to know that I will never be a victim of stuff.