Flexibility and Solutions

First there was the attack on the oil refinery. Then came the hack of the meat processing company. So I have to wonder, what's next. My best guess is the power grid.

My crystal ball is broken, so I can not see into the future. But common sense tells me that should we lose power, I could lose all the meat that is left in my freezer. And there is a substantial amount and it would cost me a fair amount of cash to replace what I bought at last year's prices.

So the plan was to thaw out much of it tonight and start canning it in the morning. Until I took a look at our local weather forecast, which is for temps in the mid 90's for the next several days. When you live in a three room apartment in a building that was constructed in the late 1800's and has an air conditioning system that sometimes struggles to keep up, perhaps heating the place up by running a pressure canner is not the smartest move. A cool down is coming. I will wait.

Most in the prepper community know about flexibility. Things don't always go according to plan. Which is why we usually have a plan B.

This same three room apartment is sorely lacking in storage space and if I don't come up with a solution as to where I am going to put the additions to my preps, I am soon going to be tripping over cases of canned goods.

I asked my youngest son to bring me some of those banker's boxes with lids. Unlike buckets or plastic tubs, the boxes can be folded up and stashed behind the couch when not in use.

Three of the boxes fit in front of my couch. Three more fit on top of the first three. I plan to spend the next few days filling them mostly with canned food from the grocery store along with some of my home canned food. That will get some of the food off the floor and make walking through the room where most of it is stored less of a hazard. Each box is labeled as to contents. Toss a quilt over the boxes, add a couple of books and maybe a potted plant on top and – drum roll, please – a storage coffee table.

Even though I have been taking time to do some of the things I enjoy – this past week it has been sewing – the need to continue to add to the stores doesn't go away. Learning to be flexible and finding practical solutions to problems are just a part of preparedness.

I doubt things are going to get better any time soon. The tyrannical politicians, both local and federal, aren't going to relinquish their power easily. We have a better chance of surviving the insanity if we can roll with the punches and find solutions to problems. That being said, it is my sincere belief that the most important thing of all is heartfelt prayer.

Every day

I check the news headlines to see what sort of new horror those in government want to subject me to. Some want to deprive me of my ability to defend myself in my own home should it become necessary to do so. Others want to tell me what I can and can not say. Still others have spent over a year telling me what to wear, where I can go and how many family members I can visit at one time.

These people are supposed to represent me. They don't. They represent whatever special interest group will add the most money to their bank accounts. They represent anyone who can give them the most power and control over my life. They expect me to go along with their socialist agenda.

And if we dare speak out against their tyranny, they call us racist.

Really? Racist? That's the best they can do? I have been called much worse by much better. And have lived to tell the tale.

I am done with all the nonsense. If I have learned nothing else over the past few weeks, it is that life is way too short to allow someone to suck the joy out of living.

In my opinion, we need fewer rules and regulations and fear mongering.

We do need more hugs. And more time spent over coffee at the kitchen table with friends. And more conversations on the porch of an evening. And more family birthday parties. And more gatherings with friends at the local pub or restaurant. And more family outings at the ball park or the county fair.

We need to stop listening to the idiots who think they know how to live our lives better than we do.

I will still check the headlines for it is a good thing to keep track of what the enemy is trying to do to us next. But I flatly refuse to live in fear. I refuse to live under the intimidation they are so fond of dishing out.

In a couple of weeks I will have lived 75 years. I have more time in my past than in my future. So I plan to live the time I have left the way I choose to live it. I will take time to enjoy what makes me happy. Conversations with my grown children. Hugs from my Grands. Cuddling my Great-Grand. Making quilts. Crocheting afghans for my Grands. Reading good murder mystery books. Watching a beautiful sunrise. Drinking the first cup of fresh brewed coffee of the day.

I know that our country is on the verge of collapse should we continue down the path of the current administration. And I will continue to prepare for whatever comes our way.

The power hungry elite will do what they want no matter what I say. So I intend to live out my life on my own terms.

And they can just go pound sand.

Ignore the Fools

There is a new nurse working for the Home Health Care service that sends nurses to my home to treat my legs. In addition to doing her job well, she is a pleasant person to be around and has a delicious sense of humor.

Because she lives in the next suburb east of me, the schedule usually makes me the last client she sees on any given day. A ten minute drive and she is home.

Because she has nobody else to see after me, she often sits and chats for a time We talk of many things, but one day last week we were talking about genealogy, as it is of interest to both of us.

She asked where I found the records for my ancestors and I told her about courthouse records and church records, much of which is now online.

She said that because the area in Africa where her parents were born had seen so much war and strife, many of the records had been destroyed by the burning of buildings. And because of the unrest her parents had made the choice to come to America and become citizens.

After a bit she began to chuckle. I asked what was so funny. She said, “Here we sit. Having a nice conversation. My skin couldn't get much more black and your skin couldn't get much more white. According to many of the government types and the 'woke' crowd, we are supposed to hate each other.”

I said I was sorry, but I just couldn't work up any hatred. She said she couldn't either.

Then she said with a grin, “Maybe we should just ignore the fools.”

Best advice ever!

We Are Being Played

 A friend sent me this video link.  It answers many questions in easy to understand English and is well worth your time.

https://ncrenegade.com/a-final-warning-to-humanity-from-former-pfizer-chief-scientist-michael-yeadon/

We are being played.

Canning and Curtains

So this past week I thawed some meat from my freezer in order to clear it out some and get the meat into jars. I find that living alone, I would rather just open a jar for a meal than spend time cooking. I filled my pressure canner with 18 pints, fairly evenly divided between chicken, turkey and beef. One jar of chicken didn't seal and that turned into a hot chicken sandwich with mashed potatoes and gravy for supper.

I found that I still have an abundance of hamburger in the freezer, so canning most of that up is the next canning project.

It has been at least a year since the old City Hall building across the street was torn down and a new 4-story building was put up on the property. It appears to be nearly finished. The upper three floors are apartments. That means I need to get busy and get some curtains up on my living room windows. It isn't like anything very exciting is happening in my apartment, but the thought that someone could look in my windows is kind of creepy.

A while back I made some curtain panels in a scrappy patchwork pattern, but when I tacked one panel up to see how it would look, I found it would make a better quilt than curtain.

The other day while browsing YouTube channels, I ran across one that had patchwork curtains in the background. The channel is called “The Last Homely House."  I liked the look, so I went through my fabric scraps, got the ones I will use ironed and was ready to start cutting out little squares of fabric when I discovered my rotary cutter was not to be found.

Preppers – two is one and one is none.

I will get started on the curtains as soon as my daughter brings me two new rotary cutters!

Take care, friends and keep on prepping!

Life Moves On

Sometimes we think the world has stopped turning for us, but it hasn't. We may ignore it for a time, but when we resurface, we find that the lunatics are still in charge, the price of groceries continue to climb and the need to be prepared hasn't gone away.

I can't remember if I told you about my latest canning supply score. If I am repeating myself, just chalk it up to the ramblings of a memory deficient granny.

The same guy has been doing my grocery service deliveries for several years now. Being raised on a farm, he understands all about food preservation and he knows that I have been seeking canning supplies for a long time.

A few weeks ago I got a call. My delivery guy was in the store, standing in front of a shelf that had been empty but now held all sorts of canning jars. He wanted to know what size jars I wanted and how many cases. I said I would like pint jars and as many cases as he wanted to lug up my stairs. He brought me six cases. The man is a hero!!

My chest freezer is full to the brim. Between the beef I got last fall and the chicken I have been buying when on sale, I would need a shoe horn to get anything else in. Not complaining, mind you, but there are things I would like to use now that are buried. And I have a stack of new jars. Let the canning begin.

Tonight the plan is to set out enough frozen meat to thaw and fill one canner load of 18 pints. About 1 lb. of meat will fit in one pint jar. Meat is the easiest food to can. Just cut into pieces to fit in the jars and run it through the canner. And when you are basically a lazy cook like I am, being able to crack open a jar of meat to either heat and eat as is or to use in any number of recipes, is a pure joy.

I haven't a clue where I will store the meat, but that doesn't matter. The meat I am canning was purchased at prices far lower than we are seeing in the stores now. I don't expect to see prices go down any time soon. And meat in jars doesn't get freezer burned. Win – win.

Keep stacking it high, my friends. The inmates are in charge of the asylum at present and as long as this goes on unchecked, I expect we will eventually need every single crumb.

Lessons Learned

In the midst of the grief and sorrow associated with the death of a loved one, there are practical things that need to be dealt with. There are final bills to be paid and people who need to be informed of a death. As we have discovered, this can be a problem.

When there is a home, business, land or valuables involved, a will is the best solution. But because none of these things apply to me, I have come up with a simple solution to help my children when my time is up.

Let it be said right here that I have no immediate plans to exit, stage left. I would hope to stick around long enough to really annoy my kids. It is one thing I do well. :)

I have a notebook set aside for this purpose. I am in the process of entering the following information into it:

The location of my checkbook and the name and number of my bank.

The location and PIN number of my debit card. If I had credit cards, those would be included as well.

The location of my stash of cash that I keep for emergencies.

A list of my monthly bills and the contact numbers.

The name and number of my landlord.

Contact information for Social Security, Medicare and any other insurance, along with the location of the cards for each.

Passwords for any electronic devices.

Numbers to call to cancel any services. In my case it is the home health care and grocery delivery services.

I expect I will be adding more to the list as time goes by. Any information that could be useful to survivors is helpful.

One more thing:

My Dad lived a couple hundred miles from me. Due to circumstances, I couldn't see him as often as I would have liked. So I called him often. Dad always ended our conversations with the words, “I sure do love you, Sis.” I always replied that I loved him, too. I have carried on that tradition with my children and grands.

It is a huge comfort to me to know that the last words my son heard me speak were the words, “I love you.”

It is important to tell them. Really important.