Re-Upholstery 503

The lift chair has been in our family for over 20 years. During that time it's been passed around to those needing it as they recovered from illness or injury. So when we got it back it was rather hammered.  Looking back, attempting a recliner as one's first re-upholstery project was not smart.  But hey, we thought, we’re retired.  We had time and we could take our time. 

And so it began.  I took photos as my husband disassembled the chair, handing me all the fabric pieces so that I could remake them.  I carefully measured each piece and wrote down the dimensions.

I then manually drew out each piece on graph paper so I could determine the amount of fabric I’d need.  After looking at three fabric stores and grabbing dozens of swatches, we decided to go with a fabric that matched our existing chairs.  I needed eight yards.  There was exactly eight yards on the roll when I took it for cutting.  A good omen to be sure.

Using the old pieces as patterns, I tore apart, cut, put back together, and re-stuffed all the cushions. The pads needed to be replaced, but I was able to wash and reuse most of the stuffing and all of the lining pieces.  I took photos of each piece in the various stages of dis-assembly so I could remember how to put it back together. 

The fabric pieces were all completed at the beginning of March, and we began the process of putting the chair back together.  Starting at the bottom and working our way back up, we stapled fabric and cushions to the bottom, installed the lift mechanism, the base, and the footrest, stapled the seat cushion, attached the back, and finished the chair assembly.  I used the time-honored needle and thread to patch up a couple of small mistakes.

On March 29, 2015, I finally stitched the last piece into place and stuffed the last pillow.  Total calendar time elapsed was almost sixteen months.  Granted, I took several breaks in the action – two months to make draperies for our daughter’s new condo; four months for summer camp hosting, a month to make appliance covers for my parents’ new house, and a month to make pajama pants for Christmas.  And I didn’t work on the chair eight hours a day.  But it must be said that this was a very complicated project. 

We did it!  It looks great!  And re-upholstering the dining room set will be a piece of cake!

Why I Love St. Patrick's Day

I have no Irish heritage.  Zero.  Zip.  Zilch.    But I absolutely love St. Patrick’s Day.

In 2002, my daughter and I visited Ireland.  She was 16. I was, well, a bit older.  The trip was arranged by her high school French teacher.  When Lisa approached her father and me about going on the trip in the early fall of 2001, I told her that I thought it would be a marvelous opportunity.  Did they need any adult chaperons?

Shortly after the trip was announced, the unthinkable tragedy that we now refer to as 9/11 occurred.  People were afraid to fly – for good reason.  But reason prevailed and the trip would go on – albeit a little more sparsely attended than planned.  My seat was secured; my presence was welcomed.

After flying all night, we landed in Shannon on June 6, 2002.  From there we boarded the bus that would take us throughout Ireland.  We fought sleep as we toured a beach, viewed the amazing Irish countryside, visited a castle, and took photos of the fabulous Cliffs of Moher. 

We stopped for lunch at a small restaurant and gift shop.  As we ate and shopped, we noticed that a single song played over and over.

My heart is in Ireland; ‘tis there I long to be
Her hills and her valleys are calling to me
Though born here in this land, my heart is in Ireland
The land of the old folk is calling to me.

Annoying as it was at the time, we found we couldn’t get the song out of our heads.  We grew to love it, and my daughter and another teenager from the trip sang it frequently – usually with an audience.  It became the theme song of the trip; even as we went on to visit Wales, England, Scotland, and finally, France.

I chatted with my daughter’s French teacher on one of the long bus rides that bound our adventures.  He commented that I would always cherish this trip, as this would likely be the most time I would ever get to spend one-on-one with my daughter.  His wise words have proven true. 

She is now 29.  I am now even older.  But every year we celebrate St. Patrick’s Day.  We drink Irish coffee and Guinness stout.  We play Irish music.  We wear matching green socks with shamrocks.  And every year on St. Patrick’s Day our hearts go back to Ireland.

That's Life

Many years ago, when I was a young teenager, I had a dream.  In my dream I was standing on a stage, wearing a black evening gown, standing in front of a microphone singing Frank Sinatra’s hit, That’s Life.  In my dream, I had known all the words, and as I reflected on the dream I found that I still do.

That’s Life – that’s what all the people say
You’re ridin’ high in April; shot down in May       
But I know I’m gonna change that tune
When I’m back on top – back on top in June…

Pretty impressive when I can’t remember what I ate for breakfast yesterday.  But I digress…

Have you ever had a dream where you were you – only you weren't?  In this dream I had red hair, done in a short flip popular in the ‘60s.  I was Midge.  Remember Midge?  Barbie’s ordinary looking best friend?  Yeah, that was me. 

So when I read about the AARP Boomer Superstar contest, the dream came back to me and I knew I would enter the contest using that song.  I uploaded a background track from i-Tunes and recorded myself using my smart phone.  Wow – gotta love technology!

I played back the first recording.  Ughhh – I was flat on a couple of the notes.  But more than that, I had the irrefutable evidence in front of me that my voice had changed.  The glow in my voice was gone.  And sadly, it was not replaced by the warmth I've heard in other “mature” voices.  Mine was not the voice they were looking for.

There is a truth we boomers are loathe to face:  some abilities and talents fade as we age.  I entered the contest anyway, knowing my superstar days were behind me.  Oh, well.  That’s life.

Why Everybody Should Have Health Insurance

Last week I wrote about the Affordable Care Act and its impact on filing your federal income taxes.  Was this the most efficient way to implement affordable health care?  Probably not, but in the end it doesn't matter.  The fact that we have a law that is helping so many people get health care is in my mind a good thing.  And in my less-than-expert opinion, here’s why:  Everybody loses when people are uninsured. 

When a patient doesn't have health insurance, the patient loses.  Preventative care frequently catches disease in an early enough stage for treatment to be both faster and cheaper.  By the time an emergency room visit is warranted, the cost, time to cure, and potential prognosis are all far worse.

Emergency rooms can’t turn anyone away for lack of ability to pay.  But all hospitals, for-profit and non-profit alike, will make every attempt to collect for the services.  This means the patients will be billed, and when they do not pay, they will be called and repeatedly asked for payment.  When the hospital finally turns the account over to collections, a new set of calls will begin, with increasing pressure or threat levels.  All the while their credit reports will reflect outstanding bills, collections, and a much lower credit score.  They will be unable to get loans, be subject to higher interest rates, and in many cases will not qualify to rent an apartment.  The patient loses again.

The hospitals and doctors lose revenue for patient care.  After turning these delinquent accounts over to collection, they write off the loss as charity care and deduct it from their expenses, reducing their taxable income.  Federal, state, and local governments lose.

Hospitals and doctors then increase their prices to make up for lost revenue.  Insurance companies have to pay higher costs.  Insurance companies lose.  Insurance companies raise their rates to make up for increased expenses.  The consumer loses.

How do we turn all this losing into winning?  We pay it forward by providing health insurance – and health care – for everyone.  Let’s take the leap of faith and pay up front.  Let’s fix what’s broken in the Affordable Care Act and make health care available to everyone.

The Affordable Care Act and Income Taxes

 This year the Affordable Care Act (commonly called “Obamacare”) requires everyone to have health insurance or to pay a Shared Responsibility Payment (commonly called a penalty).  This transaction, along with the receipt and reconciliation of federal subsidies to help make health insurance more affordable, all takes place within the user-friendly environment of filing your federal income taxes.

OK – not so user-friendly.  In the spirit of tax forms everywhere, the new forms for filing are equal in complexity to the law that they were invented to enforce.  The good news – once we tax preparers figured them out, they’re really not so bad.

Here’s what the Affordable Care Act means as you file your 2014 tax returns.

1.  If you have health insurance from any source other than the Marketplace (healthcare.gov), all you have to do is check a box.  Done.

2.  If you have health insurance through the Marketplace, the Marketplace sends you a form 1095-A.

This lists the subsidies (if any) that were paid directly to the insurance carrier to supplement your monthly payment.  Did you receive too much in subsidies?  Too little?  You’ll reconcile this on form 8962 of your tax return.  If you were paid too much, the overpayment will be subtracted from your refund (or added to the amount owed.)   If you were paid too little, the amount underpaid will be refunded to you (or subtracted from the amount owed.) 

3.  If you did not have health insurance, your Shared Responsibility Payment (SRP) will be calculated on a worksheet that accompanies form 8965 of your tax return.  The SRP is calculated on a monthly basis for each month you or any of your dependents did not have health insurance.

But wait!  There are a number of exemptions to the requirement for health insurance.  If you or any of your dependents qualify for an exemption, it is recorded on form 8965.  If your income is below the level for filing income taxes, or if your income is below 138% of the federal poverty level in a state that didn’t expand Medicaid, you qualify.  You also qualify if your coverage gap is fewer than three months, or if your coverage gap is a result of the less-than-stellar initial rollout of healthcare.gov.  The full list of exemptions and their codes can be found at http://www.irs.gov/pub/irs-pdf/i8965.pdf.  Note that this list of exemptions applies only to your 2014 return; the exemptions and the process for qualifying for exemptions are expected to change for the 2015 tax season.  The SRP is expected to go up for the 2015 tax season.

This year’s tax season has been eye-opening to me as a preparer as well as to our clients.  Some, who knew last year that they were too poor to qualify for subsidies on the marketplace, were relieved that they would be granted an exemption while our state legislature makes decisions on dealing with the coverage gap from not expanding Medicaid.  Some clients found out during our tax preparation session that they would be assessed the Shared Responsibility Payment this year and next year, and that they were too late to enroll for 2015 coverage, as open enrollment closed on February 15.

Will Utah implement a program to cover the uninsured that are too poor for healthcare.gov but too wealthy for Medicaid as it currently exists.  Will the federal government extend the open enrollment period for healthcare.gov to make it align with tax season?  The adventure continues…

Shopping Small

 I took up counted cross-stitch – again – last year.  It was part of my endeavor to finish what I start (Finishing the Unfinished), and in the process I found I really enjoy cross-stitching.  It gives me something to do with my hands while I’m watching television or listening to the radio.  And it gives me something to show for my time.

The unfinished cross-stitch was the sampler in the lead photo.  I started it in 1990.  How do I know?  I had stitched the year into the sampler well before I put it away, not to look at it again until 2014.  After I finished it I gave it to my dear friend Monika, who laughed with me at the start date.  After all, we were far too young to have known each other for that long!

Since then I have started – and finished – several other cross-stitch projects.  So I was delighted when Monika introduced me to Craftcenter of Fine Stitchery, a cross-stitch shop on the east side of Salt Lake City.  This specialty store carries patterns, threads, fabrics, and other supplies, and has stitched examples of many of the patterns they carry on display. 

I was enchanted.  The ladies in the shop (I suspect at least one was an owner) were very knowledgeable about all things cross-stitch and were delighted to answer my many questions.  They reminded me how to use a frame I’d bought some thirty years ago, and taught me how to make a French knot.  Really taught me – she handed me the needle, thread and fabric and coached me as I made two or three.

Their patterns were about the same price as those I found in the big box craft store, but they had a far more extensive selection.  Pattern prices were also comparable to those I’d found online, but in the shop I could actually look at the pattern and the supply list, rather than merely select from the multitudes of cover pictures.  Their threads and fabrics are a bit more expensive than those of the big box craft store, but again, they have a far greater selection of both. 

   

I am now their customer for life.  I want this shop to stay in business.  I want them to be there for me when I have questions.  That’s one of the wonderful things about small business – any small business.  And that’s why, from now on, when I’m stitching small I intend to shop small.

Helping the Homeless

I am not impulsively generous.  Sad but true.  Being married to an accountant for almost 34 years has trained me to be mindful of charitable giving – when, to whom, and how much. 

So I've never rolled down my window and handed money to a homeless person holding a cardboard sign.  My cynicism (he’s not really homeless; he’ll work this corner, rake in a few bucks, go home and change his clothes and go to the bar) and paranoia (what if he pulls a knife on me and steals my car?) have conspired to keep me inside my car with doors locked and windows tightly closed.

We give to both The Road Home and the Utah Food Bank.  The Road Home provides emergency shelter and a variety of programs that help individuals and families step out of homelessness & back into our community.  The Utah Food Bank’s mission statement is simple:  Fighting Hunger Statewide.  We are confident that our donations to these two organizations are being wisely used to fight homelessness and hunger.  Most advocates for the homeless advise us to give to non-profits who provide services rather than directly to the people on the streets.

But the day before yesterday I observed an interaction that got me thinking.  I was second from the light on the freeway off-ramp.  An older man, bearded, wearing an old coat and a stocking cap, stood on the corner of the intersection, holding his cardboard sign in front of his torso.  I didn’t notice whether or not he was wearing gloves.  His eyes were blue. 

The large black Dodge truck ahead of me rolled down his window and called to him.  The man walked to the window and was handed a flat Styrofoam box.  It looked like a fast-food breakfast meal.  He took the box back to the corner.  His mouth moved and hands gestured a “thank you” and a “God bless you.” 

Then, before opening the box, he looked up to the sky and closed his eyes.  A few seconds later, he took a bite of the food inside the box.  I saw him smile.

The man may have been an exceptional actor. (Oops.  I try to keep the cynic in me contained.)  But what I saw – or thought I saw – was genuine gratitude and a genuine nod to the Giver of all things.  I blinked back a tear.  As I drove around the corner, I thought about the kindness and generosity of the owner of that big black truck.

No, I’m not impulsively generous.  But maybe, just once, I should be.