I like coupons. Essentially–at least the way I see it–coupons often bring something I want down to the price I would actually pay for it. As if I–and I do–have an aversion to paying full price for things.
I have an aversion to paying full price for things.
I’m not sure if this stemmed from growing up in a home with frugal parents (although one thing I remember–and appreciate–about my dad is that when he wanted something of good quality, he was not reluctant to spend good money to get something of good quality. In particular, I remember this about his boots, his cowboy hat, good kitchen knives–of which I have one, good cookware, and the occasional 100% quality Pendleton wool). He also had a bit of good Western art. So I’m affectionately blaming my above purchase on him.
In any case, coupons.
My appreciation for coupons could also stem from my years making ends meet as a poor starving college student, although I didn’t so much use coupons then because I mostly spent money on rent, a very basic food supply, and, occasionally, $10/day ski passes to Alta on Tuesdays or Thursdays, which, fortunately, didn’t require coupons, but which brought about euphoria similar to that of using a great coupon.
Or also from the days when we were a young family also squeezing to make ends meet while my husband worked hard at two jobs and we primarily shopped at that grocery store whose prices were so low it didn’t accept coupons.
But I was queen of combining coupons and/or a good sale to purchase shoes and clothes for the kids at Shopko and Mervyn’s and Payless Shoe Store and Kid-to-Kid.
Combining coupons is a little bit of heaven! 40% off and then 10% off your combined purchase.
Sadly, perhaps foolishly, I now shop at a grocery store that does accept coupons, but I don’t really have the time to find coupons outside the store sales to use when I shop there. Although I do plan purchases around their coupon sales (and also Costco’s) and, fortunately for me, they don’t require the actual physical coupon. So I guess I’m still saving.
Epiphany! And I have a folder full of apps that now allow me to save money when they scan the QR code of the coupons on my phone, so I’m just now realizing I somehow associate coupons with the ones we used to cut out of the newspaper and try to pay close attention to so we would use them before they expired, when actually, it’s all there at the touch of my touch ID on my phone. So apparently out of sight out of mind and I’m still using “coupons” without much thinking about it.
Which brings me back to this art.
My friend Tonya introduced me to Michael Workman some time ago. Some years ago. His images evoke fond childhood memories of time spent on my grandparents’ (note, I’m deliberately using the plural term after recently realizing I’m one in a long line of generations before and after that designate actual property solely to the male of the household) ranch. I can actually smell the sagebrush.
In any case, a good while back I found myself with some saved up Christmas and birthday money and a coupon from New Vision Art and this one caught my eye. In part because it was the only one remotely affordable (with the coupon). So I purchased it. And it’s been sitting in a tube waiting and waiting for a frame, along with some other art I’ve won or picked up either way discounted or with coupons over several years.
Waiting for frames.
Then early one Saturday morning a couple of weeks ago I happened to see an email notifying me it was the last day to use some coupons I wasn’t even aware I had from Michaels. I scrolled down and there was a framing coupon for 60% off plus 20% off custom framing and then 55% off stock frames (which is always my first choice if my art isn’t odd sized).
Since I’d been saving up for awhile, I picked out my favorite pieces–including the above–and got some odd-sized Caitlin Connelly sketches matted and set in stock frames, did justice by my Michael Workman, and got my Brian Kershisnik’s Nativity poster ready for Christmas.
And I’m quite satisfied with making this generous coupon go a very long way.
[Day 184 of Ann Dee Ellis’ 8-Minute Memoir.]