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Like losing my mom all over again.

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Aunt Bea died this morning. Chemotherapy had tamed the stomach cancer for the past year, to the point where she was getting around with a walker and even eating a little bit again.

But a few days ago she was suddenly unable to rise from a chair. She started sleeping almost all the time. When my cousin e-mailed this on Friday, I knew I probably wouldn’t see my aunt again on this Earth.

On Saturday, my cousin put the phone up to Bea’s ear so that I could talk to her. All I could say was that I was thinking about her and praying for her, that I loved her, and that I thanked her for everything she’s done for the family. I heard her struggling to reply, but ultimately she couldn’t.

After hanging up, I spent the day struggling with memories of my mother’s death, back in August 2003. Losing Bea is like losing Mom all over again.

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How to kick your Diet Coke addiction.

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I can remember my grandfather grousing about the price of cigarettes. He swore he would quit when it went up past 35 cents a pack.

It did, and he did.

Now I know how he felt, although my particular vice is brown and fizzy and gives me reward points. At an Anchorage supermarket I was shocked to find Diet Coke selling for $8.19 per 12-pack. Thank goodness there’s no sales tax here.

That works out to 68 cents a can. It won’t break the bank. But really? More than eight dollars for a 12-pack? For something that I can’t even get drunk off of?

 

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Weighing in on ‘Extreme Couponing.’

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Want to save 50% at the supermarket? Here's help.A lot of people have strong feelings about the TLC reality series “Extreme Couponing.” My own impression of the show is secondhand, since I don’t own a television.

Technically I could see the next two episodes because the TLC publicist kindly gave me online access. Ultimately I decided not to watch. Based on what I’ve read and also on what my daughter told me and wrote about the show, I would just wind up depressed.

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The Underground tried to eat me! And other shocking travel tales.

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When the Megabus from Cardiff dropped me off last week, I headed toward Victoria Station and found myself trudging along in lockstep with thousands of Underground commuters. I followed the crowd into the subway car, carrying my suitcase in front of me. Then people stopped moving. I could see there was room elsewhere in the car, but apparently these folks liked being close to the doors.

“Excuse me, could I get by?” I said.

No one moved.

“I’m not quite in, please let me get by,” I said, louder.

This was met with a peculiarly British inertia. People looked at advertising placards, or their shoes. A few looked at their cell phones, as though scanning texts. Nobody looked at the tired American tourist who was carrying way too much baggage. (Physical, not emotional.)

Then the doors shut on me.

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I have “Frugal Fatigue” fatigue.

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Earlier this month the National Foundation for Credit Counseling shared the results of a new study. Apparently a whole bunch of U.S. residents are tired of budgeting.

“Majority of Americans have frugal fatigue,” the press release trumpeted. “Significant minority found lifestyle changes to be positive.”

That’s my new favorite oxymoron – “significant minority.” I know what it’s supposed to mean: That 21% rather than 2% of the respondents found frugal lifestyle changes to be a good thing. That is significant. But I still think it sounds funny.

About that significant majority: Sixty-six percent of those surveyed are feeling the strain of having to watch their dollars. Wait…Americans are unhappy that they can no longer spend like sailors on shore leave? There’s news.

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I’m not a payday lender. But I play one on TV.

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Recently a friend contacted me in a panic. She needed $586 immediately or her vehicle would be repossessed.

When I called, she also noted that she needed something to get her family through until payday. Could I loan her as much as $800?

I hesitated for a moment. Then I stopped what I was doing, moved some money from one account to the other and got myself over to Western Union (which thoughtfully tacked on a $44 wire fee).

Before you call me a sucker, hear me out. Then call me a sucker.

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Do you scrape burned toast?

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While making breakfast I scorched the toast. Automatically I scraped off the Cajun part before smearing  on some butter and homemade jam. Then I started to wonder: How many people would have just thrown it in the trash and started over?

I grew up scraping toast. My family would have considered it wasteful to toss charred chow, given how simple it is to fix.

Recently a thread started up on Not MSN Money, a community formed by so-called “refugees” from MSN Money’s now-defunct message boards. The thread, “What do you do with the heels from bread?,” asked readers whether they use them or toss them.

Guess what the answers were.

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