Separate and unequal

The bills come piling in, just as they always do. California or Idaho. It doesn’t matter. There’s the mortgage, utilities, insurance, taxes. Assorted medical bills. We still buy groceries, gasoline, and go out to dinner. I shop at local stores and big chains.

The impact on the bank account looks the same, but different.

The expectation of California is that it’s so obviously expensive. You don’t just pick up and move here without factoring this in. But this is a big state. California has the size, population and budget of a small country. It has deserts and mountains. Traffic-choked cities and wilderness areas. When it’s freezing in Lake Tahoe, it’s 70 degrees in Santa Barbara. Rolling it all up into one ball doesn’t make sense. While some areas are playgrounds for the rich, other areas are pretty darn affordable.

That means it’s a mixed bag when it comes to expenses. Certainly the recent dive in housing prices here made it much more attractive for us to relocate. Even with prices recovering here just a bit, we still paid less for our California house than we did for our Idaho house eight years ago.

The mild weather here has mostly meant mild utility bills, surprisingly even during that July heat wave when I cranked up the air conditioning. However, when I kept our house nice and toasty – night and day – for the month of November, the bill I just received was a jaw-dropper. Yes, California charges more for utilities. We immediately adjusted the thermostat and put on an extra sweater. We’ll make up for it in March, April and May when springtime sunshine means I can click off the thermostat for most of the time. Lesson: if I pay attention, I can keep these costs in line.

 

Other costs are a mixed bag. Gasoline, lower. Insurance and taxes, about the same. Medical costs – lower, because our new provider here pays more of our share. Groceries, higher. Dining out can be more expensive since there are more expensive options here. But my favorite places tend to be pretty moderately priced.

The bottom line is we haven’t found California to be unaffordable. It’s different. We live differently and so spend our money differently too. We think quite a bit about expenses now as we keep comparing this place to the old place. As we slowly become Californians again, costs seem to be balancing out.

December blooms

Staying at the Ritz

Thanksgiving took us back to Idaho and I agonized over accommodations. I checked out Yelp and talked to several people before visiting the place in person for a tour. I was worried about the usual things: Cleanliness, an attentive and friendly staff, an afternoon treat and some good hearty playtime.

Yeah, this is about my dog.

I’m not alone in pampering my pet. The Ritz of dog hotels in our parts, called Wag Hotels, is booked full for the holiday – we snagged one of the last spots only because I booked a month in advance.

Why is this the doggie Ritz? Think queen-sized beds, flat-screened TVs with a connection to Netflix, bedtime stories with a belly scratch, an indoor pool. Ridiculous? I think so… mostly.

My dog doesn’t get those amenities, which cost more than the hotel my husband and I are staying in on our trip.

Instead, my little sheltie is in a medium-sized kennel and not in the junior suite, deluxe suite or super deluxe suite offered here. But I’m comforted by the fact that Wag offers these higher-end amenities. They love dogs and know they are catering to a fussy crowd. This gives me confidence that my pet will be well cared for and not just warehoused. After all, he can’t tell me if a place deserves one star or four stars so I have to use my best judgment for him.

The medium kennel comes with meals, two daily playtimes, and treats. I’m asked if I’d like him to receive a special Thanksgiving dinner that’s being prepared – it’s turkey along with other nutritious sides approved by a vet. It’s just $5, the clerk encourages gently. Sheepishly, I agree. After all, if we were at home, he would get a little something too.

I turn down the other "up-sells" such as the extra cushion for his bed, extra treats and extra playtimes -- even a private playtime is offered so he doesn't have to share human attention with others. Geez.

The days go by quickly and I'm not worried at all. After all, he'd be crazy not to be happy there.

We’re back from our trip and my sheltie seems happy enough with his stay. During the check-out process, I'm given a report card. He plays well with others, I read, and he had a special bulldog friend that he palled around with during playtime. I’m given a photo of him playing, a nice touch.

The bill comes and the price tag is high enough to give me a twinge of something. Guilt? Nausea? Embarrassment? It disappears quickly and all that has remained is peace of mind.