This'n'that

I guess me sharing a few dreams started something: Heidi (http://pebblechaser.blogspot.com/) has one up. My last noteworthy dream was about a world where magic was treated like we treat technology. This went straight into the writing files. It was one of those dreams where I'm not myself. This makes it so I can sometimes hop around to a different POV character. Hey, I have weird dreams.
Vox (www.voxday.blogspot.com) has a post up about aspartame. After Morgan's comment about how poor people rely on the government for health care, I realized that, although we are definitely poor (by the US standard, at least) we have not needed much health care. In four years of marriage, I've had one sinus infection that required antibiotics, and my husband has had a kidney stone. Hemi had viral pneumonia last winter, but that doesn't require any medical treatments. I hear people whining about their children's ear infections all the time. My boys haven't had any.
I think it's because we're poor. We really can't afford much junk food. Since we can't buy it, we don't eat it. Veggies, fruits, meats, whole grains are cheap. Well, cheaper than pre-processed stuff. That's how I can feed a family of four on a food budget of $250 a month, and still buy luxeries like fresh fish and real, imported parmasian cheese. (I don't think I spelled that right.)
Sometimes my food budget is less, it's one of the most flexible parts of our budget. I can feed us on $200, but we have to drop the fish and cheese.
We eat better than many people we know who are upper-middle-class. Whom we frequently eat with. You see, we're at the low end of the economic strata, but fairly high in the social strata, at least in this town. Classical Musicians can do that, you know. Actually, all Arts people can.
Because I'm willing to wear second hand clothes, and dress my children in them, we don't look poor, either. (My husband, unfortunately, does not wear a size that is regularly available second hand, he is too tall and muscular.) If you met me walking down the street, you'd never guess that I'm a stay-at-home mom and my husband is a college student, and my biggest worry is paying the bills.
Appearances are deceiving. What we haven't got in money, we have in time. So many women I meet say "I'd love to stay home with my children but we just couldn't afford it." We live on less than they do. The difference, I suppose, is that they paid $50 for that brand name sweater. At most, I paid $.50. Being thrifty is more valuable than being well-paid.