Hardly stress – I’m pretty sure I have food squirreled away for a year or more, certainly enough for several months. So this is no hardship or anything. But a storm of weird coincidences is pushing me on to my own resources, and whenever I think there’s going to be a lull something else happens. Haven’t seen anything but the Gulch for weeks, and that has now been bumped out at least another week.
I normally go to town once a week, catching a ride with D&L in their truck. That takes care of my drinking water, grocery and hardware needs. D&L have houseguests, which disrupted that. I was warned in advance of the situation, but didn’t know it was scheduled to go on for the better part of a month. Should have bought more onions, I guess.
No problem, I had some stuff – including the axle bracket I need to fix the Jeep – scheduled to come up with Landlady. But then Landlady got the flu less than a week before the scheduled care package drop. Now I won’t see her till month’s end soonest – though I will see the care packages earlier than that if things go well. Saturday night I arranged to get my empty water bottles filled – though I’ll have to hoof them to the Lair because I don’t dare bring the Jeep here – and not even that is really an urgent need yet. I have plenty of drinking water, but letting empty water bottles stack up is just generally a bad idea.
Truth is I have plenty of everything except fresh root veggies and … well, granola bars. Keep telling myself I should stock dried onions, but then never get around to it. But in fact this groceryless interval is showing that I’m in fine shape. Lack of granola snackies only counts as an emergency on the left coast. I have not yet told Laddie that we’re nearly out of his favorite rawhide sticks – but I still have 12 pounds of biscuits so he probably won’t riot.
I like to sit and admire the irony: I’m every bit as poor, in money, as I present myself as being. I basically live off blog contributions, charity from BB, and an occasional paying gig. But I’m already off-grid for water and electricity and neurotic about squirreling away long-term food, and so I’d almost be willing to bet that I’m better positioned to wait out a period when the food trucks stop rolling than almost anybody within the sound of my keyboard.