Farmington Bay Waterfowl Management Area

I discovered a little gem in my "backyard." I'm a little ahead of schedule in my half-marathon training, but I decided to keep up the miles instead of taper early. I also wasn't thrilled with running any of my regular routes—I didn't want to see the same things for another 13 miles. So, I took a road that I had been down before, but I had never gone all the way to the end, if there even was an end. The bad thing about finding a new route is that I simply don't know what to expect. I prefer loops or out-and-back courses because miles are easier to count and because, to me, it just seems shorter that way. I was fully expecting to have to find an additional route to make up the remaining miles, especially considering the dead end sign not too far from where I would normally turn around, but what I found, to my utter delight, was a 2+-mile trail through the Farmington Bay Waterfowl Management Area. This is what I got to run through!

It was beautiful, and the weather was beautiful. I couldn't help but smile.

To make this story even more worth posting about, I have to add a moral to the story by way of analogy:

I wouldn't say that I am anxious about the future, not in the nervous sense at least; I'd actually like to get on with it. I want to get to the "good stuff." What I had hoped my future (which would be now) would hold has yet to come to pass. And that is ok. But it would be nice to know that what I am doing isn't going to impede any of the "good stuff" from happening later. (I put good stuff in quotes because I don't want to diminish or devalue any of the good things that are happening at present, but I feel like I have been living the same routine for the past seven years. I just want to move on to another phase of life. That's all.)

Once I got to the unknown part of my route, I thought at every bend in the road and at every fence This must be the end. I will have to turn around now. But at every bend in the road and at every fence there was more road, well trail really. My limited sight and perspective did not allow me to see what was ahead and how far I could go. It seems that such is always the case in life: we cannot see our future, but there exists a never-ending trail through beautiful countryside. Some times you have to squeeze past fences and dodge bird and horse poop, but the effort is worth the idyllic vistas that are around the bend.

Economic Intelligence

Last President's Day I committed TWO grievous crimes against economic prudence. And then I committed one again today. I guess I didn't regret it enough to be truly repentant of my previous transgression.

Before you can understand the gravity of my actions, allow me to present a few economical practices that have proved beneficial to my financial existence.

I am always amazed at how people who make more money than I do seem to have less of it. Rather, I should say, I am amazed at how dumbfounded (emphasis on the dumb part) those people are that they don't have more money. Well, they don't have more money because they spend it all, and they typically spend it unwisely. It's basic addition and subtraction that they apparently didn't learn very well in elementary school, but I will admit that it does go beyond simple math. There is some common sense involved, which turned out is not so common at all. That's the unwisely part.

Priorities and value determine much of that. But there are very simple things people can do to have their cake and eat it too:

• Plan menus and cook meals around what is on sale. Most people want to eat a certain dish, and they go out and buy the ingredients at full price. Look at the weekly ads; some weeks have especially good sales. The results of this can be compounded with the following.


• Make your own meals; don't eat out frequently. Restaurants pay wholesale prices for their food; the actual dishes are very cheap to make. You pay for the overhead. Make yourself a meal, and you can give yourself a generous tip with your savings.


• Take advantage of a good deal—know what a good deal is and know prices/value.  Looking at the ads regularly will also give you a better idea of what a good deal is. But don't be fooled: some stores will advertise something at a "special" price, but that doesn't mean it is a good deal. (I also like to compare prices to prices at Costco. If an item is cheaper than it is at Costco, it is usually a good deal.)


• Use coupons. There is no shame in using coupons. The trick to using coupons is not to buy things you don't need just because you have a coupon. (See below.) That's how companies suck you in. The other trick is to know whether the value of the coupon will reduce the price enough such that it is as good or better than a weekly sale. Better yet, use the coupon for an item that is also on sale. It happens frequently but maybe not as conveniently.


• Don't pay for things you don't need or use. This exercise does not require further explanation, but for the fun of it, I will provide an example: I don't watch TV. I don't have the time. Yet, I've been paying for TV service, and I have been paying for it for the sake of my roommate, who has been with me for over three years now. Well, my service provider now requires some box to get service. I don't even have the time or I don't want to spare the time to set up an appointment to get the box because it makes no difference to me whether I have the box or not because I don't watch TV. I asked myself why then am I paying for it. I brought up the issue with my roommate, and she was confounded that I would ask her to pay for her own TV service. I figured that I have wasted $1,800 over three year on a service that I have not used. Believe me, I'm giving myself a very disapproving look.


• Comparison shop. If something is cheaper somewhere else, get it where it is cheaper. Recognize, though, that if you have to go clear across town, the gas/time spent increases the supposed cheaper price. Estimation and basic math is sufficient to determine the proper choice. This goes along with the following practice.


• Travel efficiently. Go to the store on your way to or from work or while out doing other errands. There is no sense in going home just to go back to where you just were. I go to work straight from the gym. It saves me 12 miles and about 20 minutes.


• Don't buy on impulse. I think it was Jean Chatsky, financial editor on NBC's Today Show and former partner when I worked at FranklinCovey, who recommended thinking about something for a full 24 hours before buying. If you still want it after 24 hours, you are more likely not to regret the purchase.
  (Tangent: This is somewhat related to a presentation my friend recommended that is interesting enough to share. (Dan Gilbert: The surprising science of happiness.))


• Don't prescribe to retail therapy. Emotional distress befuddles economic judgment every time. Nuff said.

I practice these suggestions constantly, so now you will understand the hypocrisy of my decisions this particular day.

I had the day off work, with surprising little to do. I woke up at my regular time (4:55 AM) and went to the gym. I came home and dillydallied for a time until I thought I had better be productive. So I went back out to run some errands, one of which was going to Costco. Usually things are pretty uneventful there. I go with a list, get what's on the list, and I go home. That day, though, I was mesmerized by a sample, the first time I was tempted to buy something completely unnecessary, certainly useful, but nonetheless unnecessary. I told myself it was impractical, so I carried on.

Later that day I got a phone call from a dear friend who was going though some difficulty trying to decide what to do with her future. She and I were/are going through a very similar mini life crisis but as a result of opposite circumstances. She boosted my spirits and gave me encouragement to keep going. She also recommended a book: So Good They Can't Ignore You. The first chapter is available online here. I read all that was available and decided it might be worth reading further. I did some comparison shopping (see above) and found (incorrectly) that the price was the same online as it was at the store. I debated whether I should go get the book. Then I thought about the sample at Costco. The bookstore is just one block south of Costco. I managed to convince myself that it was worth going out again. And with that decision came the two economically abominable crimes of which I mentioned: I made three trips, not just two, to the same place in one day and I bought on impulse (though, thinking about it for at least four hours somewhat negates the impulsivity, but you know what I mean).

I should also add one crime against common sense: I thought to call the bookstore to verify that they had the book. I didn't call—and the bookstore didn't have it. But it didn't turn out to be a total waste. I found another book, which I will retroactively post about.

Nothing bad, of course, came of this: I was about $6 poorer from buying the jam, but I increased my wealth of culinary pleasure (This is really, really good jam.); I lost a few dollars of gas going to the bookstore, but I gained knowledge from random books that I read while I was there.

Without any negative consequences, it is no wonder that I repeated these offenses again.

I reserve my Wednesday lunch break for a trip to Sprouts, a local farmer's-market-type grocery store that is located not too far from where I work, when I take advantage of their Double Ad Day (when the sales from one week overlap with the sales of the next). I had the time off work, so I thought I would go to Costco while I was out; and in that I committed the crime against efficient travel: the SLC Costco is a bit out of the way. Then while I was at Costco, I tried a sample that I could not pass up buying; and in that I committed the crime against not buying impulsively. Shame on me.

The funny thing is that sometimes these practices seemingly contradict themselves, but really, certain practices just supersede others. In fact, abiding one rule at the expense of another might, itself, be a crime against economic sensibility. For example, the purpose of my last trip to Costco was to get milk and gas. That was it. But I happened upon some delicious bottled Tikka Masala, the sample I could not refuse. Any other day might not have been so infused with economic criminality if it weren't that I had been craving Indian food. I had even looked up some recipes but decided that the effort and special ingredients weren't practical given my hectic schedule.

I've never looked at prices for Indian food, except for what it costs at a restaurant. So I couldn't say whether it was a good deal or if I could get it cheaper somewhere else, but because I do have some common sense and because I knew what its value was to me, I determined that it was a very worthwhile endeavor. And it was Costco; you often can't go wrong there. Turns out I was right: it cost me about $2.20 a bottle. At Wal-mart (I looked it up online) it is $3.66 a bottle. So in this case I overrode the don't-buy-on-impulse rule with the take-advantage-of-a-good-deal rule. See how smart I am.

I cooked it up yesterday, and I don't regret it for a second. Quite the contrary, I get giddy thinking about it, and the jam too.

Fire Point

Call me stupid. I didn't know that oil could spontaneously combust. I learned first hand that it certainly can.

I learned on Pinterest that Pillsbury Grands biscuits make pretty good doughnuts (more like scones, though, or fry bread; it doesn't have the same flavor as doughnuts). They were on sale, so I thought I would try it out. Because of my lack of time, they sat in my fridge for a week. Finally, on Sunday I had the time to try it out. I put some canola in a small pan and put it on the stove. I started making the rest of my dinner, too, when the doorbell rang. It was a good friend from a previous ward. I invited him in to catch up, but after only a few minutes of talking with him I saw a flash of orange light come from the kitchen. I knew instantly what was going on. I had taken the asparagus off the stove, but I didn't think I would need to take the oil off, too. Oops.

I immediately took it off the stove. Then not sure what to do, I just held it. Then, I thought I would try the baking soda suggestion, knowing that water was not the right course of action, but the baking soda seemed to make it worse. The fire flared up. Smoke was filling the room, so I took it outside to prevent any further smoke damage. Fortunately the fire was contained within the pot. Every smoke detector in the house was going off, but with the problem at least removed, even if it was just relocated to the outdoors, I googled if baking soda was really the proper extinguisher. The Internet confirmed my initial though, so I tried it again. This time it worked without a problem. I guess the fire was just too hot for it, or I didn't put enough on the fire. I learned a couple lessons that evening: baking soda really does work and don't over heat oil.

From the Internet:
"Heat points for fats include "flash" and "fire" points at 600 and 700 degrees, respectively. Do not put out an oil fire with water, the water will splatter the burning oil and spread it more quickly. Smother the fire with a tight-fitting lid. If the fire has spread outside the pan, suffocate it with baking soda or a fire extinguisher formulated for oil fires.

"Cooking oil that has reached boiling point (bubbling) is very dangerous. If the oil starts to boil, remove it from the heat source immediately. Simply turning off the heat source may not be enough to reduce the heat immediately for electric appliances, or cook tops because they retain heat even after they are turned off. An oil reaches its flash point at about 600°F. when tiny wisps of fire begin to leap from its surface. If the oil is heated to its fire point 700° F. for most oils, its surface will start vaporising and spontaneously ignite, surging up and out almost instantly."1

For your entertainment, this is what happens when you use water, sent to me by my similarly pyro-happy friend:

I might try the wet towel next time. But over all, the worst that happened was a small though not so minor burn and some soot throughout the house. It could have been much worse, so I am grateful that it turned out to be nothing more than some unexpected pyrotechnics.