The selection was underwhelming, although it would be unfair to compare it to the American versions – their plethora of choice and hyperconsumption is not an ideal we should be aspiring to. Things that I found cheap:

• Junk food. Oh my lord, you can buy this stuff for mere cents per kilo. I walked away with no less than a 1.8Kg tub of Jelly Belly jellybeans, a kilo bag of Bhuja Mix, enough breath mints to undo the effects of eating out at Korean restaurant for a year, and 2 massive bags of Rice Crackers.
• Frozen goods. Bacon shortcuts that cost about $15+ a kilo at the supermarkets went for about $10 a kilo, and likewise cheese, dim sims, chips, ice cream, etc.

Things that are about the same as, or worse than, supermarkets:

• Fresh food. Loaves of Helgas bread worked out to be $3.50 per loaf, which is more expensive that at the supermarkets, which normally sell them for $6.50 for 2 (and often less, at $5 or $6) every other week. Meat is cheaper at the butchers in a busy area, say, the Chinese side in Eastwood and fruit and veg were pretty ordinary as well.
• Gadgets. The selection of electronics and their prices were underwhelming.

On that pet topic of mine: their kitchen paper towels are pretty excellent – good, tough sheets that are absorbent and can even withstand having the water wrung out of them. Their bathroom tissue, on the other hand, is atrocious. The Kirkland 2-ply tissues are thin and tear easily.

In saying I couldn’t find much to buy, I still managed to drop over $200 there, so they must be doing something right. It’s not a place I’d go to do my shopping regularly though – if only for the sake of my waistline. Maybe once or twice a year or on special occasions.

The one that we have was the one we bought when we first got married, so we didn’t skimp, and got a fairly expensive model with a pillow top. This seemed like a good idea at first: it was comfortable, had good support, etc.

Fast forward a few years and the pillow top was showing distinct signs of the many hours we’ve spent asleep. There were two body-shaped cavities caused by the sagging foam; these shapes were not “contoured to the shape of our bodies to maximise support, blah blah blah” but horribly uncomfortable averages of all of our sleeping positions over the years. We found that we’d be constantly be sleeping slanted no matter how we positioned ourselves on the thing, not to mention the hill in the middle. 10 year warranty? Bleh. Not covered.

As a bargain hunter, my natural instinct was to go shopping for a new mattress. It’s then that I discovered the sad truth that almost all mattresses come with pillow-tops now – the manufacturers have got this scam down to a fine art (several sales people admitted as much to me).

We went to several places and tried many mattresses, but after several such failed expeditions I decided to take matters into my own hands. Going from advice that I found through Google, I decided to remove the pillow-top foam layer. Here’s a brief description of the process:

1. Unstitch the edge – relatively straightforward because it’s easy to see where the layers are, since the thing is literally just an extra layer sewn on top of the mattress. We tried to unstitch as little as possible but still ended up doing 2 adjacent sides.
2. Detach the foam layer – our model used long thin plastic thingies to keep the layers in place. Y’know, like those things that hold tags onto clothes in the shops with a wide bit at either end and a stringy part in the middle. Yeah, that. I just used a hobby knife to cut them all.
3. Remove the foam layer – this is a lot harder than it sounds. The friction between the layers meant that it wasn’t simply a matter of yanking it out. That’s why we had to unstitch half the top, so that we could separate the layers as much as possible so it would be easier to pull.
4. Sew the top back on – in theory you could just toss the whole thing and just buy a new mattress topper, pad or overlay to replace it, but on ours, the top layer had some foam cells and a thinner foam layer glued directly underneath. These probably wouldn’t have contributed much (if anything) to the sag, so we decided to keep it.

End result: an almost good-as-new (firm) mattress, and anywere between $700 – $1500+ saved. Let’s be realistic about the results though. It’s not as if the springs themselves hadn’t sagged in 5 years – the middle still has some height to it, but it’s nowhere near as bad as it was with the foam.

I was brought up with Asian values, which is to say practicality trumps everything when it comes to finances. A perfect illustration of this is if one of your grandparents overseas died, and you don’t attend the funeral because you can’t get a cheap (discounted) airfare. It’s taken a long time to free myself from that mindset, and longer still to push through to the other side, where spending is considered a pragmatic solution to a problem.

The trick I used is to consider time and effort as “billable work” – this is the same thinking that led to the conclusion in my previous post about how spending less time getting to and from work is equivalent to a pay rise.

Work out what YOU’RE worth
Firstly, what’s your hourly rate? What is your time worth? If you don’t know where to start, then work it out in terms of your current job. What are you worth to them? Then, factor in how much you value your personal time – do you have a hobby or business that you’d rather be doing than work, chores or other distractions? If so try and put a figure against that – how much would somebody need to pay you to pull you away from that activity?

Work out what IT’S worth
Now that you know what you’re worth, you can work out whether it would cost less to get somebody to do something for you than to do it yourself. For example it might make sense for you to get your meals catered instead of cooking it yourself, when you consider the time saved from not having to shop and cook, on top of the money you’re already spending on groceries. Therefore although at face value it might seem like an additional expense, the true benefit lies in how much more free time it gives you to do other productive or enjoyable things.

What are some of the things in your life that would be worth paying for, in order to spend more time on the things you love?

In essence I’ve lost about an hour each day, an hour where I would previously have done my gardening or made dinner. That one extra hour per day, considering your average 8 hour work day, works out to be 12.5% more time that you’re spend as you “go about your business” so to speak, even if it’s unproductive (reading or playing games while on public transport notwithstanding).

Think about that if you’re looking for work, and consider whether it might be worthwhile finding a job closer to home, even if it pays 12.5% less. You might find that the personal dividends well worth the sacrifice in monetary terms.

I decided to combat this problem, and chalk up another notch in my quest to live a greener lifestyle, by growing my own. To my great surprise, it turned out to be stupendously easy. Serendipitously, a nearby neighbour put out a bunch of plastic pots for hard trash collection, and I added to that a bag of potting mix and a few seeds, and the next thing you know, I now have a garden!

Basil growing in a fancy “self-watering” pot. I’d originally envisaged having several kinds of herbs in that pot, hence the shallots on the left, but the basil grew like crazy and took over. I’ve since moved the shallots elsewhere and hope to get some mint in there.

And here are the shallots. Or spring onions. Or green onions. I seriously have no idea. The long green things. I don’t think that they’re ever going to grow to the size of the ones that you seen in the shops (the pot isn’t big enough) but they taste the same. It just means they look more like chives than shallots when you add them to dishes.

Rocket. This stuff’s great! They grow super quickly and they taste great. This too, was originally growing in the basil pot but got relocated to their own (bigger) pot after I realised their prolific potential.

Curled-leaf parsley, looking somewhat unpleasant here ‘coz I’ve let it grow a bit too old. You’re supposed to be able to let parsley go to seed, so that you pretty much have a endless supply. Then again, a new packet of seeds costs like $2.50 from Bunnings…

My pride and joy… chillis! Look how many of them there are! They’re not ripe yet, hence why they’re green, but Jenny cut one up to try (you can eat them whenever) and they’re pretty darned hot!

Roma tomatoes. There’s only 4 of them – would’ve been 5 if I didn’t actually knock one off while trying to fix the stake that they’re attached to. These buggers grow tall! I bought this one as a kit from Bunnings for about $30, which includes the pot, potting mix and both Roma and Cherry variety of tomatoes which you alternate planting one season after the other.

Lastly, the budding start to what I hope will eventually be carrots. Probably a bit too ambitious here trying to grow carrots in pots, but I had a big pot and a lot of potting mix left over.

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That’s my herb collection. The garden didn’t stop there – we also have several indoor plants, some flowers which aren’t flowering at the moment so they’re pretty boring to look at, and also these succulents, which are slightly more interesting:

Yay gardening! Have you ever tried growing anything (either successfully or unsuccessfully)?

Like so with work attire. Nothing says “business is boring” like a room full of men in pants and jackets, so why do we persist with it day in, day out? It’s possible to demonstrate professionalism and show respect for the workplace while dressed in something that reflects your personality – just ask a woman!

Granted, this advice won’t be possible for everyone, but seriously consider it if you don’t work in a client-facing role in your organisation. Check with your boss to see whether you can go mufti, even if it’s just Fridays.

In hot weather you could wear a comfortable short-sleeved shirt, then the office won’t have to have the aircon at “freezing” (women can leave their cardi’s at home); plus there’ll be less ironing, which saves time and – in some small way if this idea catches on – the environment (from reduced energy costs).

How much easier would your life be if you didn’t have to wear a “penguin suit” to work?

Then in 2006 The Economist picked up the joke and ran with it, graphing the trajectory of blade one-upmanship to show that by 2100 a typical razor would have no less than 14 blades.

I was actually a happy Mach 3 Turbo user way back when, until a windfall at work allowed me to splurge on a top-of-the-range electric saver. Several years went by, until one day the charger stopped working, and I was forced to rediscover the joys of manual shaving. Purely by coincidence, Schick started running a promotion on their Hydro 5 series, and started giving them away like candy – I scored 3 for free through my usual source of freebies, the Contagious Network (Schick are also giving them away on their Facebook page.)

Does 5 blades really make a difference? Seriously? You probably know the answer already, which is not really. Compared to the Schick Quattro that I’ve be using recently, it’s much of a muchness. They both do the job admirably, which is to say a close shave with minimum skin irritation, but for me the main factor isn’t the razor but having a good shaving gel. Of course, if you really want to appreciate a good razor, try shaving with one of those freebie hotel jobs…

What do you think – is 5 blades the pinnacle of manual shaving, or will 6 ultimately triumph?

Ingredients

• Seafood highlighter/crab stick (whatever you call it)
• Smoked salmon
• Mayonnaise
• Parsley
• Mini toast

Method:

Don’t mind too much about the portions, just don’t overdo it with the mayo – the point is to be quick and measuring takes too much time. Throw everything into a food processor and whizz for a few seconds until you get a roughly chopped mixture. It should be sticky enough to hold together but not so much that it’s wet (if so you’ve used too much mayo).

Spoon onto mini toast, bung it onto a nice plate, and serve.

Voilà!

Recently, while moving some pillows around, I knocked over my alarm clock and broke it. I’ve had this clock for almost as long as I can remember. My earliest memory about it is finding the detached head of a Transformers “Bumblebee” toy and taking it home and sticking it onto the face with blutac, where it remains to this day.

It’s more than just a clock: when my family bought a puppy and we were told by the breeder to put a small alarm clock near its bed to help it sleep since it would remind it of its mother’s heartbeat. I always set it 10 mins faster than the actual time, and even though I’m aware of that in my head, it still somehow helps me to remain punctual.

Then of course I had to go and be a klutz.

I could’ve seen this as a good opportunity to finally get a new clock, one with integrated iPhone dock for instance, but I’m a sentimental creature and I couldn’t bear to throw away one of the oldest things I own. That, and how terrible it is to think that we live in a society where things cost so little that we throw way stuff that could be repaired, because it’d be cheaper and more convenient to just buy a new one.

It was an odd break, because while the external casing was intact one of the internal battery connects snapped, but it turned out to be an easy fix. Step one: unscrew. Step two: apply superglue. Step three: put it all back together, wait for the glue to dry, and voila. Working clock again!

In light of the above, the theme of this post is “repair”, with a list of basics that you should keep around the house so that you can fix things instead of contributing to rampant consumerism and increasing landfill.

Tools
I can’t imagine a household that doesn’t have at least a couple of tools. At the bare minimum, you should have 2 screwdrivers (one Phillips head, one flat head) and a hammer. This is sufficient for a sizeable proportion of all handyman tasks, including build-your-own furniture à la IKEA. Speaking of which, IKEA sell a kit that includes just that, in addition to a pair of pliers and a wrench.

Superglue
Because when something’s broken, the fix most times involves joining the broken pieces back together as firmly as possible.

Multimeter
You can get a basic unit for $20 from Dick Smiths. Fantastic for checking whether your batteries are flat, or diagnosing other electrical or electronic devices. It sounds more daunting than it really is – here’s a video on Multimeter basics.

The Internet
I could probably carry on for a whole other post on just this point alone. Youtube alone is a source of almost infinite knowledge on how to disassemble, diagnose and doctor any kind of thing you can think of, plus a number of other sites like FixYa dedicated to the ars restituo. The Web is also an excellent way to source spare parts, whether direct from the manufacturer, making a request on specialist discussion forums, or just searching on eBay – there’s a world of junk collectors out there and if you can’t find the part that you’re looking for it’s more likely that you haven’t looked hard enough.

What else do you keep around the house for repairs?

“Hey, you at home?”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“Mind if I bring some garbage around?”

It wasn’t code for a drug deal nor a twisted new hobby where I collect people’s trash; I live in an apartment block with a generous waste disposal facility consisting of several skip bins, and he needed somewhere to put a few extra bags after a house party. Leaving aside the ethics of this arrangement, the problem he had was that his household generates far more waste than the council was allowing him to get rid of.

Long story short: he looked into composting, bought himself a compost bin for organic waste, almost halved the amount of garbage needing to be collected and couldn’t be happier. I admit I was somewhat envious – my parents used to compost as well and I spend more time thinking about garbage than a normal person should. Of course I hit the ‘net straight away to look for an apartment-friendly option.

The solution: worm farm.

I’ve had my setup for a couple of months now, and I’ve learned a few things from the experience that I’d like to share with anybody who also has an interest in worm farming. I’ll try not to cover off the basics that you can easily find elsewhere on the Web, but will include practical advice about acquiring and setting up a worm farm, and correct a few misconceptions that seem to be quite common amongst the many articles and blogs that I’ve read on the subject.

Buying a worm farm
Don’t be stupid like me and buy from Bunnings. After parting with my money I discovered that almost every council in Australia has a composting and worm farming program to encourage waste reduction. They sell worm farms and compost bins at subsidised prices, cheaper than what you will pay at retail.

Whether you buy from a council or at retail, you’ll almost certainly be getting one of the stacking baskets systems. This is the only viable way of keeping a worm farm in an apartment complex. Generally speaking it’s clean and efficient, and the online literature and included instructions make it all sound so very easy, but one Australian authority on worms, David Murphy, writes this caution in his book Organic Growing With Worms:

I don’t like the stacking basket system, primarily because the baskets are made from moulded plastic. Although the bases of the baskets are perforated, the sides are solid and impervious. Worms need an oxygen-rich environment and so do bacteria.

[...]

The problems with the stacking basket system (bad smell, disappointing results, difficult operation, worm migration) stem from the use of impervious plastic that allows no air access. It is a product designed using poor advice and little practical research, and I don’t recommend it.

My own experiences match up with this somewhat (in the disappointing part at least). He advises drilling as many holes as possible to improve ventilation but I haven’t tried this yet since I don’t have a drill :-)

Buying worms
Again, stay away from the boxed products that you buy in stores. Your local council can refer you to a worm farmer who will provide a fresh supply of healthy, mature worms. The woman who I bought my worms from, Kim, said that buying this way helps you to avoid the tedious setup in the worm farm instructions, and gives you a 12 month headstart.

What you buy is not only the worms themselves, but a valuable amount of vermicast – the bedding material that the worms produce as they feed. Yes, they live in their own poo, but it’s not like human poo. It’s a dark, odourless, soil-like substance rich in nutrients and ideal for using on your plants (more on this later).

Otherwise you’re left to try and set up the worm farm using coir for the bedding, which will take the worms time to adjust to, not to mention the crazy amount of watering that is necessary to keep it and the worms’ moist. The instructions say to pour 5 Litres of water through it a week, compared with my setup which only requires 1 cup of water a week!

Feeding your worms
This is one area where what I have learned from my own practical experience and also from reading Organic Growing With Worms differs greatly from the advice on worm farming on the Internet. The biggest misconception is that the worms eat the food scraps that you feed them. This is untrue. The worms are actually after the micro-organisms present on the scraps, such as bacteria, fungi and algae – a fact that is quickly and easily confirmed by asking Google “what do earthworms eat?”

This insight provides a much better guide than the “do/don’t” lists, and greatly impacts the selection and method of feeding your worms:

• Choose foods that are conducive to bacteria growth, i.e. avoid acidic foodstuffs such as onions and citrus, although a small amount mixed in with other stuff is OK. Otherwise, they will eat anything that’s organic – even things like stones and seeds from fruits; it’s just a matter of how long it takes the bacteria, etc. to break it down. Hard things just take longer to decompose and take up valuable space.
• Pre-processing your food scraps (e.g. in a blender or food processor) creates a larger surface area for micro-organisms to propagate. This also helps to destroy seeds and prevent them from sprouting (this is a real problem since vermicast is an amazingly effective environment for producing germination). Be careful not to liquefy your scraps though, because then it’ll just wash right through the bedding before your worms even have a chance to get at it.

Managing vermicast
Depending on the water content of the food that you feed to the worms, solid waste will only account for 10% of the output of your worm farm, which means that the other 90% will be liquid. Despite what you’ll read elsewhere, Murphy emphatically states that this liquid is useless, especially if you’re following the instructions in the kit and putting through 5L of water a week. What’s valuable is vermicast dissolved in liquid, which contains soil-enhancing nutrients and bacteria.

The 10% rule also means that your worm farm will build up at a very slow rate, and you’ll only need to skim off excess vermicast once or twice a year at most. Dissolve a tiny amount in water, and use this to water your plants – they will never look better!

Consider worm farming!
To conclude the post, I’d like to give you one reason to consider composting or worm farming: garbage tips contribute greatly to the amount of methane, which is produced as a result of the organic matter decomposing in anaerobic conditions (that is, starved of air). So you’re not only dealing with your waste in a natural way, you’re also reducing the amount of waste being contributed to landfill and helping to better the environmental in the process!

Oh, and read David Murphy’s book. It’s truly excellent in many more ways than I have time to go into here – two words: waterless toilet. (Sorry Book Depository fans, it’s only published in Australia so you’ll be hard pressed to find this one overseas).