How stubbornness and stale cereal help me fight inflation on a fixed income

This First Person column is written by Jan Rose, a writer who lives in Calgary. It was originally published in December 2021. For more information about CBC's First Person stories, please see the FAQ.

Above the L-shaped kitchen cabinets in my condo, there is a one-foot space where I've stashed what seems like enough pasta — elbow macaroni, fusilli, spaghetti — to feed the entire Italian army.

That space holds nearly a dozen boxes of cereal, bags of oats and various other dry goods — emergency rations that have likely gone stale but still give me a sense of comfort in the knowledge that I will never actually starve.

In the pantry proper are stashed other cans and dried goods, all reasonably fresh. That is the go-to supply for preparing meals. My habit for years has been to always have a one-year supply of food on hand since this is not my first go-round with tough times.

The pandemic, combined with the soaring costs of food, utilities, mortgages and condo fees, has been hitting many people hard, especially those living on a fixed income. I'm one of them.

Luckily, I grew up in the bush in the early to mid-1960s in an old log house south of Grand Centre, which is now part of the city of Cold Lake, Alta. 

At that time, our home didn't have modern amenities or electricity. Heat was from an iron stove, light from kerosene lamps. The outhouse was 12 metres out back.

That upbringing helped me weather the current hardships and keep meeting all my fixed financial obligations: mortgage payments, condo fees and ever-rising property taxes on a small pension and some freelance writing — a monthly income of $1,300 to $1,600.

I'm in my 70s now. My career was in broadcast journalism. I also worked as a legal assistant in general litigation, personal injury and family law.

The pay was not great given my broadcast journalist career started on the ground floor, but it was a training ground in economics. Without a lot of money, a person learns to stretch every dollar to the maximum.

How do I do it? First of all, I live in a cold condo with sporadic heat. I let the furnace run for only 10 minutes per hour, if at all, depending on the temperature. 

If it's bitterly cold, I sometimes spend the day under the bed covers hibernating, mentally running through tasks to finish or start and mulling over how to generate some income. Dressing in layers gives better insulation even though it makes you feel like a trussed-up chicken. Another is to use as many comforters as required. I started doing that during COVID-19 and the economic downturn. 

Since taking showers can gobble up gallons of water, the next best thing is to take a chilly sponge bath.   

Utility bills have many fixed costs, but the Scrooge in me demands some effort to lower the bills even if it's a few pennies. 

I also keep the utility bill down by restricting computer use, and I don't pay for cable, so no television. And if you're in a similar situation and want to really push it, buy a small flashlight with a row of LEDs. There's your reading light.

Given the cost of food now, my best strategy is to buy canned or frozen foods since they will last exceptionally long. I have recipes for stews of various kinds. That yields the best bang for the buck.

All these actions could be termed extreme. Perhaps they are, but the alternative — being homeless for want of a few dollars — is too scary to contemplate. 

About 40 years ago, I had my first scare because of budgeting. I did not realize the value of a dollar, spent frivolously and nearly lost my apartment and car. I only had to go through that once to have the fear lurking in my head. My retirement savings need to last.

When I look around, I see many people having the same struggles. My advice? Hang in there, baby.

It's to encourage myself more than anything else.

Oftentimes I wake up in the morning and struggle with depression, thinking of the many essentials I need such as a good pair of winter boots, new shoes and a warm sturdy coat.

But my stubbornness and refusing to let my situation drag me down helps weather the storm.

The school of hard knocks is a formidable teacher.