It is all relative in this country, I know that. But relatively I have at some times in my life been pretty poor. It has its advantages. One feels less guilty with others of a modest income. The luxuries one does get mean so much and the delight in them is so intense. The natural pleasure in making something is intensified by the fact that that is the only way one is going to get it. The skilfully made jacket, for instance, is something to be saved up for, executed punctiliously and enjoyed for months, years after. The joys of poverty are acute.
The downsides are enormous too. The sheer time it takes. The thought that goes into saving money, making things last, finding the cheapest thing, and the forced choice to take it or take nothing. I can’t imagine anybody wants to spend that long thinking about something as boring as money.
I am quite suddenly in the position of being able to chose things just because I want them, treat friends to coffee, take kids on an outing, and all without a lot of calculation and planning before hand.
It is disconcerting, though probably not as disconcerting as I will find it when the ability to do this vanishes. When it does, do remind me that I once blogged on the joys of poverty, won’t you?