False economy

My mother used to take exception to friends who would explain why they were buying an inferior grade of ice cream or a low-cost, low quality dress - "Oh, it's my Scottish heritage!"

She kept her mouth shut, but how Mom would bristle, hearing those words used to justify a chintzy purchase or why they used 40 watt bulbs in places that cried for better light.  

Mom knew that a TRUE Scot didn't mind spending good money for good quality.  Not even the flintiest highlander of our acquaintance skimped when it came to good shoes & single malt scotch.  They spent well, but wisely, recognizing the pit fall of false economies.

Today, it dawned on me that my Scottish ancestors would be ashamed of this highland lassie.  Maybe it was some long-ago Lockhart clansman who whispered in my ear today, "Tsk tsk, young missie!  You've been saving money where it would be better spent - your savings aren't worth the cost." 

 

It's true - am guilty as charged of false economy.  It seemed a good idea, practical & sound.  Every quarter, a grannie client pays a set amount for the dining services at her senior residence.  What she doesn't use, she loses.  Mind you, her family never made an issue out of how many times we ate out instead of in one of the residence's dining areas - informal, casual, formal.  But it weighed on my mind.  So, a few months back we started having dinners at her residence, then out for dessert.  Good use of money & she still got OUT.  Except...

Am realizing that going out for dessert is not the same thing as going out for dinner.  When we went out to dinner, she always had a favorite server at wherever we went & the staff at each restaurant always treated her like a queen.  Warminster West, the Red Lion Diner, Lancer's Diner, the Waterwheel (sob - now closed), Bell's Tavern, Pineville Tavern, Square on Square - everyone seemed to perk up when she walked through the door.  She thrived on it!  

For the past two weeks, she's ordered grilled cheese & tomato with bacon - which she devours - for every supper.  Every night!  When we go out, she has a favorite dish at each place, something different on Monday night from what she had on Saturday from what she'll have on Wednesday, and younger folks surround her.  Much as we enjoy eating with her friends & fellow residents, they are - and pardon me for being blunt - O L D.  No young families eating right next to her or across the room.  

I stand guilty, as charged by my worthy ancestors, of false economy.  The savings aren't worth the droop in her spirits.  Sir Simon & the rest of you - I get it.  No need to haunt my dreams.  Tomorrow, out we will go!  To Bell's Tavern, a lovely drive up through Bucks County & across the Delaware to Lambertville.  Fingers crossed that Carol is working, as she always fusses so over her dear older friend, always treats her like royalty.  Or maybe to Pineville Tavern, where we're sure to run into Mea & Ray, good friends from our Center Bridge days, back when we toddled up every Wednesday night for supper & to hear Barbara Trent's jazz stylings.  Or to Doylestown's Farm House Tavern, where the gals practically knock each other down getting her to sit at THEIR table.  

A true Scot shuns false economy, spending money well, just wisely.  Can't think of any wiser way than helping expand the world of a woman that I - and so many others - think the world of!

Signing off with my full legal name - Elsa LOCKHART Murphy