Monday, September 18, 2017

I'm a Prepper

I'm accustomed to that suspicious, sideways glance from people who learn that I'm a Prepper.  I'm accustomed to being judged for writing about the very real possibility that some catastrophic, life-changing event will happen in my lifetime - what we preppers like to call TEOTWAWKI (the end of the world as we know it) or when the SHTF (shit hits the fan).

What I haven't gotten used to, however, is being openly ridiculed, called names like "mouth breather", labeled a luddite, or accused of having only a 5th grade education, simply because of my certainty that our way of life is neither sustainable nor non-negotiable, and because I refuse to become a victim, but rather choose to be proactive, and yes, prepared.  

In 2015, Canadian writer, Leslie Anthony, who clearly believes himself to be of a superior stock, wrote exactly those things about the Prepper community.  In what was little more than a insult-laced, lazily researched essay full of nothing more than degrading epithets meant to characterize anyone who believes that things might be going to shit, Mr. Anthony derided an entire group of people - people who run the gamut from, as he calls them "meth-fueled, neo-Christian, anarchist bow-hunters" to professionals in all fields from accountants and teachers to doctors and engineers.  I'd also like to point out that some of the folks in the latter group are also bow-hunters ... and some in the former are also college-educated professionals.  

Former President G.W. Bush owns an off-grid ranch in Texas that includes a 25,000 gallon cistern for storing water.  I'd call him a prepper.  

Yours truly is just shy of a graduate degree (significantly more than a 5th grade education) and is married to an engineer with a degree from an Ivy League college.  I feel like Mr. Anthony doesn't really know what a prepper is, in spite of his insistence that he has a full understanding of what that term means and the kinds of people who wear the label. 

So, let's discuss who preppers really are, and why more people should strive to be like us. 

First let's start with the definition from the Oxford English Dictionary, which Mr. Anthony refers to as "that most authoritative tome."  The definition of a prepper, as published by Mr. Anthony, from the OED is:  "a person who believes a catastrophic disaster or emergency is likely to occur in the future and makes active preparations for it, typically by stockpiling food, ammunition, and other supplies."

I don't disagree with that definition, and I would also like to point out that no where, in that definition, is a prepper defined as someone with no education who hopes for disaster.  Rather, by definition, a prepper is someone who is pretty sure that something bad is going to happen, and strives to be ready for it ... whatever the *it* is. 

So, let's talk about some of the "its" that have occurred recently.

Hurricane Harvey hit Houston, Texas causing severe flooding and massive damage, and Hurricane Irma, after thoroughly thrashing all of the islands in that area of the world where the Caribbean Sea, the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic Ocean meet, descended on the southern Florida with a fury only matched by a little league parent who is certain the referee has slighted his little star.

Both of those events could be described as "catastrophic disasters."  Prepping in the sense of stockpiling goods might not have done many people in the path of those hurricanes a lot of good, but Mr. Anthony also pokes fun at the "Bug-Out Bag", which is, usually a backpack filled with provisions and ready to be grabbed as one runs out the door.  

There were many areas in Florida that were under mandatory evacuation.  So, you tell me, when is it better to plan for an evacuation - when you're being shouted at by the police to leave the area, or now, when you're sitting, calmly, in your living room reading this article?  When are you more likely to be able to think, rationally, about what you might need in the event of an emergency?

When I was in college, the university provided low-cost housing to students who were married and/or had children.  It was a trailer park, and I lived there.  One evening when I was home alone with my two children, the police rolled through my neighborhood telling all of us that we needed to get out ... now!  A tornado had touched down nearby.  We were being evacuated.   I grabbed my kids, shoved a couple of diapers and a quick snack in my purse, and snatched up a ball - as something for my kids to play with.  It was a warm late spring day when we evacuated to the basement of a nearby building.  Inside the building on the cold, marble floors, it was cold.  My children and I weren't dressed for the chill of the cold floor in the air conditioned building.  I didn't have a blanket.  I didn't have extra clothes for any of us.  Heck, my daughter didn't even have on shoes or socks (she was still a baby).  I didn't have water.  I didn't have any money.  

The list of what I didn't have was pretty long, and thankfully, after two hours, we were sent back to our homes.  Nothing happened.  We were fine.  The house was still intact.  I hadn't lost anything except two hours of study time.  

It could have been worse, though.  It could have been a lot worse.  That tornado could have destroyed my home, and I and my children could have been left with nothing more than the clothes on our backs, and the few silly things I hastily grabbed on my way out the door.  I didn't even have any identification for them, and I certainly didn't have any of my important papers.  

If back then, I'd had a bug-out bag, we would have had everything we needed, plus a lot more, and those other people who were stuck in that cold basement would have been really grateful when I pulled out blankets and snacks.    

Later in my life, I experienced other SHTF events.  These, like the tornado evacuation, were always short-lived, but the fact that I was prepared those times made my life a heck of a lot easier.

In 2008, much of the northeast was hit with a significant ice storm.  It was the second such storm I'd experienced since I'd moved to Maine a decade eariler.  The worst part of this storm, for my family, was that we were without electricity for a few days.  So, imagine.  It's the middle of winter.  There is no electricity in your house.  Quick!  What do you do?

Can you heat your house?  Can you cook meals?  Do you have candles, flashlights, or oil lamps? Would you even be able to stay in your house for the duration of the event?  Would your pipes freeze? Would you be able to care for your pets or, like too many people did during the recent hurricane emergencies, would you be forced to abandon them?

Some folks ended up in a hotel or a motel ... if they could find one that still had power and vacancies.

We stayed home.

We played games.

We read books.

We even rigged up the FM transmitter that we keep in our car (and is usually powered by the car lighter) so that we could listen to the audiobook through the solar-powered radio.

On day two of our power outage, Deus Ex Machina's nephew came over to our house to spend the day, because there was no school.  He asked us what we did all day with no television, and so my daughters showed him.  They played some games.  They made origami animals.  They colored.  They danced and sang.  

I made lunch on the wood stove.

In the morning, I heated water on the wood stove.  We had hot baths.  We had coffee.  We were able to wash dishes.

In the evenings, we had plenty of light with my stockpile of candles, oil lamps, and flashlights.  Dinner, including fresh baked bread, was cooked on the wood stove.

On day three of our power outage, Deus Ex Machina went to work in the morning, just like usual, and I hooked my computer and transcriber up to our car-charger and did my job, too.

The day the crews came to my neighborhood to restore our electric service, I was hanging my freshly laundered clothes on the line outside.  

Not much about our lives changed significantly ... because we are prepared.  We don't have a generator, but we know for a fact that we can survive without electricity without any hardship at all.

And without scrambling to buy a generator or running to the store for supplies, because, thanks to our prepper mind-set, we usually have most of what we need.

There are some Prepper scenarios that are a little far-fetched - more likely in a Sci-Fi novel than in real life.  All sorts of novels cover the possibility of a solar flare or an EMP attack that completely destroys all electronics, or a viral plague that wipes out 90% of the human race. Mostly those events are fiction, but both of them can happen, and have-ish.

To wit:  a solar storm (CME) known as the Carrington Event knocked out telegraph transmissions in 1859.  If a similar event occurred in the US today, it could destroy significant parts of the electrical grid, and knock out power in some parts of the country for months ... maybe longer.  Such an event could happen and would be catastrophic.  It probably won't, though.  And, while an EMP, which would have a similar effect, can be accomplished by detonating a nuclear bomb up in the stratosphere (or, you know, up in the clouds, up there someplace), it probably won't happen, either.  You know, it's not like North Korea has nuclear bombs or anything.

As for plagues, those have also happened.  In the Middle Ages, the Bubonic Plague wiped out much of Europe (although some research is also suggesting that it wasn't just the Black Plague, but a combination of pestilence, including bacillus anthracis, or Anthrax).  Of course, that was a very long time ago, and we have a vaccinations these days.  But ...

Ebola is pretty awful.  There's no vaccine.  It probably won't spread to the rest of the world, but from 2014 to 2016, several West African countries fought to keep the disease from spreading. People were ordered to quarantine themselves in their homes.  So, imagine that you can't leave your house.  Can you feed yourself?  Do you have water?  Can you cook your food?  Can you heat your home?  Ebola probably won't happen HERE, where I live, but it did happen somewhere.  The Preppers in West Africa were living well in their quarantined, well-stocked homes.

Let's talk about some other possibilities that are not just crazy, "out there" ideas that are just never going to happen here, but rather some real scenarios that really could happen, over which we would have absolutely NO control, but for which we could be somewhat prepared.

In the 1990s, the USSR collapsed.  The USSR, or the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, was a massive entity in Eurasia that was formed just after World War I.   Land wise, it was huge.  We collectively referred to them as the Soviet Union, and most of us here in America thought they were all "Russians", but the USSR was actually made up of 15 different countries with several more countries, sort of, being controlled by the government in Moscow.

So, when the USSR collapsed, it was pretty catastrophic for a lot of people.  The Russians retreated back to Russia where there were shortages of everything.  Dmitry Orlov, who grew up in the US, but visited family in the USSR, tells great stories about what he saw during his visits behind the curtain of how the people were dealing with the financial collapse.

Argentina, Cuba, Greece, and Venezuela have all recently experienced their own financial collapses, and lest you think it can't happen here, please note that Venezuela is one of the top oil producing countries in this world.  They should have plenty of money to sustain their economy.  Unlike Venezuela, the US does not have its own supply of oil.  If, by some crazy happenstance (oh, I don't know, like the 1970s OPEC-led oil embargo against the US), we lose our oil suppliers, things would be very bad.

If you want a very small glimpse of how it might look to have less oil available, and at a much higher price, do some research on what happened to Cuba when Russia stopped supplying the Cubans with oil.  

Or, perhaps, just harken back to 2008, right here in the good ole US of A, when the price of gasoline skyrocketed, almost overnight, and everyone freaked out.  Truckers went on strike in protest of the high prices.  Goods weren't delivered.  It wasn't too bad, but it could have been.

One of the most popular lists for preppers is the 100 items list.  It was originally compiled by a survivor of the Sarajevo siege.  Bosnia, while not a member of the Soviet Union, was one of those countries that was, kind of, under its control.  When the USSR collapsed, it left a lot of people in a lot of countries pretty vulnerable.

In 1992, Sarajevo was a beautiful, modern city.  It is the capital of Bosnia and hosted the 1984 Olympics.  That year (1992) opposing military factions laid siege to the city, trapping civilians inside the urban confines. The Siege has the distinction of being the longest in the history of modern warfare and lasted almost four years.

Thirteen years ago, I found this graphic novel, Fax from Sarajevo, at my library.  I had no idea what I was borrowing.   The story was horrifying in its harrowing details.  The civilians who lived in the city were constantly being shot at.  These were just regular people.  A man and his wife and their children, struggling not to get killed as these two military groups fought each other.  If that wasn't bad enough, they also needed stuff to stay alive, like food and clean water.  No supplies came in.  No one got out. Those cartoon images stayed with me.  

It is unlikely that southern Maine will end up in a siege.  But ... I'm almost positive that if I found Doc Emmett Brown and bartered a ride in his Delorean back to 1984, and I was able to buy a ticket to the Olympics and visit Sarajevo, and talk to the people who lived there, not one of them would express the belief that their beautiful city would be torn asunder by war in eight years.  They'd probably laugh at me.  Loudly.  And point and jeer.

Kind of like Mr. Anthony did in 2015 in his nasty little anti-prepper diatribe.

But the reality - for a lot of people in this world - is that the shit hits the fan all of the time.  War happens, and usually, it happens in places and to people who aren't thinking it could ever happen to them, like most of us living in the US.  War doesn't happen here, right?  In 1991, that is exactly what they were saying in Sarajevo.

I'm also pretty sure that in 2014 no one Sierra Leone expected that their country would be home to more than 14,000 cases of a deadly and virulent hemorrhagic fever.

And if I could go back to a 4th of July party in Houston, not one of my fellow party-goers would believe me if I tried to warn them that they would be under a three-day siege from a Hurricane named after an actor from the Carol Burnett comedy show.

Our mantra as humans is "It won't happen to me."

The difference the Mr. Anthonys of this world and the Preppers he derides is that we, Preppers, DO believe it can (and probably will) happen to us, and instead of throwing up our hands in defeat, we decide to do something about it.

He can laugh, if he wants, but come winter, if Maine experiences another electricity stealing ice storm, I'll be living life, pretty much, as usual.

A final word:

There are a lot of SHTF scenarios.  Some are huge events that are devastating to a lot of people, like most of the ones I mentioned.  All of the ones I mentioned HAVE happened, and millions of people were adversely affected by them.  With the exception of the catastrophic CME, all of them have happened somewhere in the world in MY lifetime.  I've been a witness, peripherally, to most of the catastrophic events that we, preppers, are hedging against.

But there's one more, and every one of us is likely to experience that SHTF scenario.  The last one is a job loss or some significant financially devastating event (like an illness).

Deus Ex Machina and I went through the job loss event this summer.  It wasn't bad for us, because we have a prepper mindset, because we are always aware that this modern way of life is not sustainable and not non-negotiable, and because we know that things can change on a dime, and do.

Deus Ex Machina found a job.   We didn't lose our home.  No one starved.  We didn't have to sell our kidneys ... or our children.   We didn't sell our cars or our furniture or our clothes to make ends meet. We didn't have to rehome our pets because we couldn't feed them.  We didn't have to take out loans or end up with credit card debt.  We're still happily married and happily together.

In fact, with the exception of having an awesome summer together with no one having to get up early every day to go to work, our lives didn't change all that much.

Honestly, the whole tone of Leslie Anthony's article was condescending, and yes, as a Prepper, I was deeply insulted.  I guess, I just think, as a highly educated "scientist" kind of guy, we should expect  more from him than just a nine paragraph rant about a demographic he clearly doesn't care to understand.

Maybe, instead of just trolling through a couple of Prepper websites, Mr. Anthony should have done some real research ... you know, like an actual scientist or journalist should be doing ... and gone out and actually met some of the real people in the Prepper world.  If he had done his due diligence, I'm certain his article would have had a very different tone.

But then, if he'd met some real preppers, he would have had to hop down off his soap box and admit that real-life Preppers are more than a reality show caricature.


Five Reasons to Keep a Coin Cache Stash

I was reading an article the other day about having a cash cache as part of one's preps.

While I certainly agree that having cash on hand is a good idea, I don't agree with the author of that article that cash in the form of dollar bills is preferable to coins.  The author suggested that paper money is better, mostly, because the same amount of coins is heavy, which is absolutely true, but also, as I'll share in a bit, the weight of the coins versus the paper money could mean the difference between keeping your money and having it taken from you.

I suggest that having coins as one's cache is a better option than keeping an equal amount of paper money.

1.  Coins are more disaster proof than paper money. 

A few years ago, I read this article about this guy who had been given this windfall of cash - all in bills - which he had stored in his car.  Then, his car caught fire.  Everything, literally, went up in smoke.  I know it's silly, because what are the chances, but at the same time, paper money burns. Coin money doesn't.

Keeping coins is a little more secure from disaster than paper money, and fire isn't the only worry. Water can also damage paper money.  If I really wanted to secure my cash stash, I could bury my coins in a tin can in the garden under a painted rock.  If the lid of my container is broken or otherwise compromised and the coins get all wet, no worry.  I just dig them up, drop them in some vinegar to clean them up, and take them to the bank.  In fact, there have been coins recovered from shipwrecks that were still usable.  Not true of paper money.

2.  Coins have value beyond the denomination on its face.

When I was in elementary school we lived down south, and my grandmother, who was working on our family history came to visit.  During this visit, we went on a family field trip to visit Andersonville Prison, where she was certain she would find the name of one of my great-great uncles, who had fought as a Union soldier during the Civil War, had been taken prisoner by the Confederates, and had died at Andersonville.  She did find his name.

As a kid, I wasn't adequately impressed enough with what Andersonville represented and what it meant that my great-great uncle had been imprisoned there.  What I was impressed with was the replica Confederate currency, and my parents bought for me a package of about $100 in Confederate money for about $5 US currency.

The money weren't real Confederate bills, but even if it had been, they wouldn't have been worth much.  When I lived in Germany, I went to the Oktoberfest in Munich, and I found a 1000 lire note on the ground.  It was worth about $2 US.  Today it's worth nothing, because Italy joined the rest of Europe in adopting the Euro as their national currency.  Like the Confederate money, the lire note is valueless as a currency, because the nation which printed it no longer uses that money.

Neither of those two examples prove that keeping coins is better than keeping paper money, except that I have German pfennings that are worthless, as currency, but they still have value.  They are metal, and metal can be melted down and made into something else.  And that Lire note?  In an emergency situation, where I don't want a keepsake, because who needs more clutter, the best use for that money is next to the toilet.

The coin can be traded as metal, at very least, and that has value.

3.   Coins hold their value.

A few years ago, Argentina suffered an economic collapse.  The cause was a combination of many things, including government corruption and excessive government spending, but the result was that their currency wasn't worth as much as it had been.

I followed a blog written by a man who was living in Argentina at the time.  He was eye-witness to what it's like to live through such an event, and I learned a lot from him.  One of the big take-aways, for me, was the use of currency.

He said that there came a time when the paper money was all, but worthless, and some businesses stopped taking it as currency.  The coins, however, held their value, and if one had cash in the form of a coin, one could be assured of getting service.

When I think of emergency cash, for me, coins are the better choice, because if the shit really does hit that fan, chances are good that our paper money isn't going to be worth as much as that jar of pennies.

When I was a kid, my uncle gave me an 1800s silver dollar.  It was real silver, and it was worth a lot more than a dollar.

And that's the other part.  Dollar bills stay in circulation for a few months.  Coins stay in circulation ... well, forever, right?  I can still find wheat pennies, and still use wheat pennies as currency.  They stopped minting them in 1958.  Some of them (the 1944 one, for instance) are worth more than a mere penny.  In good condition, that penny, sold to a collector, can command $6.  So, $6 doesn't seem like a lot of money, but hold up - $6 for a PENNY is a lot of money.

4.   Some coins are spendable in other countries.

The other day I was sorting some coins.  Mixed in with my nickles and dimes were several pieces of Canadian currency.  The thing is that I can use my US dimes in Quebec just like I use my US dimes in Portland, and if I'm shopping in Portland, there's a good chance that the cashier will give me a Canadian dime in change.

While some stores in other countries will accept currency from the US, it's not a given that I can spend my dollar bills without exchanging them at a bank, first.  With coins, it's a little easier.

5.  Coins are more burglar proof. 

Like most people I have a change caddy in my car - a place where I drop loose coins when I go through the drive-thru.

Knock wood - my car has never been broken into so that someone could get to that visible stash of coins.

The thing is, coins aren't really seen as valuable.

When I was a kid, one of my favorite books was From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler.  It's a great story about these two kids who run away from home and live in the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  One of the kids gets money by taking it from the fountain every night when the museum is closed.

We just, literally, throw coins away, like they aren't worth anything.

There have been lots of articles written by former burglars to help us regular people understand how to better protect ourselves.  In one article, the burglar says that his goals were to:  1. steal money and valuables, and 2. get out of the house as quickly as possible with these goods.  

Coins are heavy, and if we have several containers of them, stashed throughout the house (including in the kids' rooms, which are the last place most thieves look for valuables), the thief is unlikely to find them all.

True, we can stash bills, too, but those look like money, and they're easier to carry out of the house than a gallon-sized jar of assorted coins.


A cash stash is really important, especially for those who are in the path of natural disasters.  Things like hurricanes can interrupt power for days, which means that the ATMs won't work.  Having some cash to be able to purchase a few essentials can be really important.

But also, we live in a volatile world economy.  It might feel good to have a neat stack of $20 bills hidden between the pages of your favorite books, but the reality is that paper money might seem more secure, but history proves otherwise.

The form in which one chooses to stash that cash could be just as important, and depending on the emergency, having coins rather than paper money might be a life-saver.

Saturday, September 16, 2017

Freedom From ...


I feel almost giddy.  It's weird.

Everything feels so brand new, almost like we're in a new house.

Or, like, we finally finished the remodel, moved things into a place where they can actually stay - not "for now", but for always -, and are (slowly) reclaiming our space.  There are still things to do, but I finally feel like I can breath and not just make plans, but accomplish goals.

It's actually pretty amazing - this feeling of being freed.  

I think, most of us in this consumer-driven society, don't really understand what a HUGE burden clutter is.  There have been plenty of articles written and studies done that tell us it's true, but I think, when we're in the midst of it, we don't really get it.

I also think that's why people like vacation.  It gets them away from the clutter of their lives, and there's nothing quite like sinking into a clean tub and just relaxing in the pristine austerity that is the typical hotel bath.

Speaking of baths, there's a great story about our house-hunting adventure twenty-some years ago.

Deus Ex Machina and I were staying with his mom while we looked for a house to purchase, but we were limited in our housing choices by our income (he was starting his new career as an electrical engineer, and I was starting my new career as a SAHM, which means we only had one income) and by our size requirements (we had Big Little Sister and her two older, half siblings).  Of course, we'd also compiled a list of other amenities we hoped our new home would have, including land size.  We wanted at least an acre.

In a local newspaper, there was an ad for a house.  Deus Ex Machina said, "Look!  It has a Jacuzzi!!" It was a three bedroom (which was the minimum we hoped to find), two-bath house in the upper end of our price range, but it was on a tiny lot (a quarter of an acre), and when we drove by it, it looked tiny and dark.  There was absolutely no color to the house - not even green grass.  The yard was, kind of, bare, actually.  It had so little curb-appeal, in fact, that I didn't even want to walk through it.

Over the next four months, Deus Ex Machina and I drove by dozens and dozens of houses and walked through about half as many.  Nothing worked.  That house needed too much work.  That house  was just out of our price range.  That one was too far from Deus Ex Machina's job (and we only had one car).  That one went under contract the day after we walked through it.

We kept seeing ads for that one house, though, and we kept discounting it.  It actually became somewhat of a joke.  Deus Ex Machina would tease me and act like a Jacuzzi tub was something he wanted, but, to me, a Jacuzzi tub was the epitome of wanton wastefulness, and I wanted nothing to do with that house.

In October, it snowed.  We had arrived in Maine at the end of July with not much more than the clothes on our backs - summer clothes appropriate for a Texas summer, but wholly inadequate for a Maine winter.  Although she was ever the gracious host, I started to feel that we had outstayed our welcome at my MIL's house.  In addition, with the holidays looming, we were in a bit of a rush to get into our own home so that my older two children could come up for a visit.  With so few other options, we decided to walk through the Jacuzzi house.

Twenty years later, we're still in that house, and I've never fully appreciated that Jacuzzi tub.  We used it.  In fact, one of our children was born in that tub, but it's really too big to be comfortable for daily use.  It really is a luxury fixture.

Then, when we started trying to lower our footprint, water usage and electricity usage became concerns, which meant that filling the massive tub and running the jets just didn't fit with our new, life goals.

When we started the renovation, the bathtub was turned into a storage area. I put a bar on one side so that we could hang up the clothes I relocated from the bedroom closet.  It ended up as a catchall for things we had no other place to store.

It started to look a lot like a little, dark cave.  The tub, itself looked and felt grungy.  The best plan, in my mind, was to just rip it out and put something else there.

Unfortunately, my life mantra is "do what you can with what you have where you are" - a philosophy that, kind of, goes contrary to ripping out things that are still usable, even if they aren't exactly perfect.  Rather, it encourages re-imagining how one can make use of the things one already has.

And that's what I did with that Jacuzzi.

During the renovation, it's value was as place to store things.

After the renovation, it was renewed to its original purpose.

I took the clothes bar down.

I relocated all of the tools and other assorted flotsam and jetsam that was being stored in the tub.

I gave away and/or discarded the long-outgrown tub toys.

I painted the wall and the ceiling.

I gave the tub a good scrub and sanitized the whole thing.


It still uses too much water and too much electricity, but I'm realizing it is actually quite useful - as a tub.

First, it's a Jacuzzi with jets, which means it has some therapeutic value.  When Deus Ex Machina has been standing on a concrete floor for three days in a row and his back is sore, there's the tub.  When my dancer daughters have just spent a week in a ballet workshop and their whole bodies are achy and every muscle screams with use, there's the tub.  When I've been outside in the early spring chill digging and planting the just barely thawed earth and I have to peel off my clothes, slowly, because it hurts to move, there's the tub.

But, also, there is a huge value in having a spa-like space in one's own home.  It's a place where we can go, light a candle, sip a little wine, and just relax.  It can be an every day vacation.

From a preparedness standpoint that tub also has value. I know you think I'm going to say fill it with water for storage, but I'm not.  The stopper-thingy has a slow leak, and so we can't fill it for emergency water storage.  That's what we have rain barrels for.

What I am going to say is that our homes should be our primary focus for preparing for an uncertain future, and that we should be making them into exactly what we want.  Deus Ex Machina and I spent five months looking for a perfect home, and we settled for something that would do for now.  Then, we spent the next ten years in what we always felt was a temporary living situation.

If I could go back to younger Wendy, I would tell her that the Jacuzzi house was exactly what she needed - or that, at least, it could become exactly what she needed.  What I needed to do was just step back and see MY house, and imagine how I could make it my ideal.

Twenty years later, we're doing just that.

And that tub?

I'm looking forward enjoying a bit of freedom from the worry of my every day in a mini-vacation in my very own paradise.


Wednesday, September 6, 2017

TEOTWAWKI - Good for a Change


A week ago, today, was the start of our personal TEOTWAWKI.  Last Wednesday was the day that our income would end, and we would be plunged into financial dire straits.

Only, it wasn't.

Yes, Wednesday was the last day of Deus Ex Machina's severance and vacation pay, and going forward in the world without a steady income scares the beejeesus out of a lot of people.

I wasn't scared.

Not even for a second.

It was actually, at least for me, an overall positive experience.

I very much enjoy Deus Ex Machina's company, and I really enjoy just spending time with him.  We spent a lot of - quality - time together when he wasn't stressed out about stuff that was happening at work.  It was really nice.

Positive #1 of the job loss was that Deus Ex Machina and I reconnected.

But he also had the time, and more importantly, the energy, to finish our bedroom, and we (finally!) moved our bed out of our office and back into our room.

I took my friend on a tour of our house after we'd moved some things around, and she (like I) marveled at how much space we have. We have some big rooms in our house - when they aren't so cluttered.

Positive #2 of the job loss was that we decluttered our living space.

I've actually read a lot about the psychological impact of too much clutter, and these past few years have validated what I knew.  There were some significant and profound negatives to our too cluttered space.  I don't know if you all noticed or not, but I haven't really been able to write much for the past several years.  I'm blaming it on the clutter, because now that my office isn't filled to the ceiling with stuff, I'm finding it easier to sit down and fill this white space.  That's huge.

As a further bonus, Deus Ex Machina was able to really spend some time IN our house.  Over the last twenty years, he's been here, of course.  He lives here.  But like most working adults, one's home is where one houses one's stuff while one is at work.  In fact, if one excludes the time one is sleeping, the average working adult spends more time at work than at home.

Positive #3 was that Deus Ex Machina was able to spend some quality time here in HIS home - time he'd never had before - and the result was that all of these projects I've been suggesting over the years were things he was able to see as being both good ideas and necessary improvements.  We haven't tackled them all, but, at least, he was willing to discuss them without cringing at the thought of another agonizingly involved project that would dishevel our entire household for YEARS.

He also learned that there are some home improvement tasks that I'm actually good at - like grouting tile.  It's something I do well.  We have an area that needs tiling, and we have all of the materials, except grout and tile adhesive.  I think he'll trust me enough, now, to tackle the project, because he knows that if he starts the work, I have his back in making sure it gets finished.

In the end, Deus Ex Machina found another job, but what's better is that he was able to work on some very cool side projects about which he is pretty excited.  In time those side projects might work into something bigger.  

Positive #4 was that Deus Ex Machina had some time to explore what he really wants to be when he grows up.

I know it sounds silly to say that losing one's job was a positive for us, because for most people it's an incredibly stress-inducing experience, but for Deus Ex Machina and me, it was more positive than negative.

We were able to make some improvements on the way things were and make choices about where we want to go from here.

In the end, TEOTWAWKI isn't, necessarily, a negative thing.  It's just change, and not all change is bad.