"Don't use your head, and the whole body usually suffers."
"Poor planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part."
Two quotes, the first from my grandpa, the second from a high school teacher, which convey the same message; it is incumbent on you to think things through and plan ahead. Failure to do so will result in consequences which are yours to handle. The paradigm shifts, however, when you are married and/or have kids. Poor planning on the part of one — or both — can have implications with a broader reach.
We were hit with a pretty big snowstorm on Friday, 17.2 inches before 3 o'clock in the afternoon. It was not a surprise storm — we had several days warning, but still we were unprepared, and there were consequences. Fortunately, none were serious, and we learned some good lessons.
First lesson: When a storm is coming, move the vehicles off the street before there is a foot of wet, heavy snow on the ground. Maybe even put it in the garage while it is still possible to do so. It is very difficult to get our truck into the garage; it barely fits, so it has to be lined up just right. I won't attempt it. Darren noticed our truck on the street and almost moved it, but he was worried about driving conditions and getting to work and kept driving. I didn't even think of it until the snow was deep and cars were stuck everywhere. I managed to move it off the street, essentially burying it in the drift behind the garage. If only we had thought ahead, it would have been so easy to take care of Thursday night.
Lesson 2: It is best to prepare for a power outage before the power goes out. Things did not get really hectic until I realized we could lose power. As the realization hit, the lights went out. They came back on, thank goodness, but I was scrambling from then on.
I prepared as best I could for the power to go out again, but was nagged by our lack of a stove of any kind. Our range is electric, so with no power, I can't cook or heat anything. A camp stove, which we have, would have been a small consolation, but it was in storage several miles away. I do know how to make a stove from a pop can which burns rubbing alcohol. Only problem, we don't drink pop. No can.
I thought a tuna can would be similar enough to work. Turns out, I was mistaken. After a minor explosion and small fire on the stove top, I abandoned the alcohol burner idea. It really wasn't necessary; we had enough food which could be eaten cold, and there wasn't enough baking soda left to extinguish another fire. There were a few more flickers, but the power stayed on all night.
It has been the case for me, especially since having children, once chaos starts, it continues, spilling over into the next day and maybe even the day after that. Probably because I get so caught up in handling one crisis, I don't think ahead to the next scenario, and so it goes, like a line of dominoes, spiraling wildly out of control.
Saturday started simply enough. I baked a pie — a delicious pineapple pie — and went out to shovel snow. In doing those activities, I allowed my regular chores, such as putting away the clean dishes from the night before, to slide. It wasn't a big deal until it was time to make supper and I had to work around a pile of clean dishes. The pie was in the way, so I moved it to the table, and Sophie, who is climbing now, poked her finger in it a bunch of times. I moved it again and went back to the stove.
Instead of putting the dishes away, I noticed the boiling cabbage was making an excellent dye bath and decided to wash wool to dye, despite knowing it would be better to wait.
Amid the chaos of clean dishes, dirty dishes, cooking supper and, now, washing wool, Sophie announced she had to potty. I put her on the potty chair and went back to rolling stuffed cabbage leaves. She ran off and found someplace else to do her business. Emerging from the kitchen to deal with that, I noticed Ainsleigh had eaten most of the crust off the pie. Bath time felt so far away!
By Sunday, I felt like I could catch my breath a little bit. Church was nice, Darren came home from deer hunting and dug the truck out. There was bible study in the afternoon, which provided a much needed break from the kids. After they went to bed, I made a fun raglan tee for myself.
All is well that ends well (to borrow another quote), I suppose, but you can bet I will be procuring a pop can in the near future. The thought of dealing with that kind of chaos again, potentially without coffee, is terrifying, and there is going to be an emergency stove under the sink from now on. Just in case.
The recipe for the pineapple pie can be found here . I used diced, fresh pineapple which I heated on the stove until the juice released. I crushed the pineapple a little more and then continued as directed. Instead of lemon juice, I grated fresh lemon over the top before adding the second crust.
To make my t-shirt, I used this simple tutorial.
The goats milk and honey soap was made with:
Always be safe when making soap, and double check your measurements with a lye calculator .
"Poor planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part."
Two quotes, the first from my grandpa, the second from a high school teacher, which convey the same message; it is incumbent on you to think things through and plan ahead. Failure to do so will result in consequences which are yours to handle. The paradigm shifts, however, when you are married and/or have kids. Poor planning on the part of one — or both — can have implications with a broader reach.
We were hit with a pretty big snowstorm on Friday, 17.2 inches before 3 o'clock in the afternoon. It was not a surprise storm — we had several days warning, but still we were unprepared, and there were consequences. Fortunately, none were serious, and we learned some good lessons.
First lesson: When a storm is coming, move the vehicles off the street before there is a foot of wet, heavy snow on the ground. Maybe even put it in the garage while it is still possible to do so. It is very difficult to get our truck into the garage; it barely fits, so it has to be lined up just right. I won't attempt it. Darren noticed our truck on the street and almost moved it, but he was worried about driving conditions and getting to work and kept driving. I didn't even think of it until the snow was deep and cars were stuck everywhere. I managed to move it off the street, essentially burying it in the drift behind the garage. If only we had thought ahead, it would have been so easy to take care of Thursday night.
Lesson 2: It is best to prepare for a power outage before the power goes out. Things did not get really hectic until I realized we could lose power. As the realization hit, the lights went out. They came back on, thank goodness, but I was scrambling from then on.
 |
| Shoveling Friday afternoon: basically a wasted effort in the storm, but still a lot of fun. |
I thought a tuna can would be similar enough to work. Turns out, I was mistaken. After a minor explosion and small fire on the stove top, I abandoned the alcohol burner idea. It really wasn't necessary; we had enough food which could be eaten cold, and there wasn't enough baking soda left to extinguish another fire. There were a few more flickers, but the power stayed on all night.
It has been the case for me, especially since having children, once chaos starts, it continues, spilling over into the next day and maybe even the day after that. Probably because I get so caught up in handling one crisis, I don't think ahead to the next scenario, and so it goes, like a line of dominoes, spiraling wildly out of control.
Saturday started simply enough. I baked a pie — a delicious pineapple pie — and went out to shovel snow. In doing those activities, I allowed my regular chores, such as putting away the clean dishes from the night before, to slide. It wasn't a big deal until it was time to make supper and I had to work around a pile of clean dishes. The pie was in the way, so I moved it to the table, and Sophie, who is climbing now, poked her finger in it a bunch of times. I moved it again and went back to the stove. Instead of putting the dishes away, I noticed the boiling cabbage was making an excellent dye bath and decided to wash wool to dye, despite knowing it would be better to wait.
Amid the chaos of clean dishes, dirty dishes, cooking supper and, now, washing wool, Sophie announced she had to potty. I put her on the potty chair and went back to rolling stuffed cabbage leaves. She ran off and found someplace else to do her business. Emerging from the kitchen to deal with that, I noticed Ainsleigh had eaten most of the crust off the pie. Bath time felt so far away!
 |
| The demolished, but still tasty, pineapple pie. |
 |
| Produced this week: a new shirt, finished yarn, a new batch of soap, 4 ounces of fleece washed and dyed with cabbage. |
All is well that ends well (to borrow another quote), I suppose, but you can bet I will be procuring a pop can in the near future. The thought of dealing with that kind of chaos again, potentially without coffee, is terrifying, and there is going to be an emergency stove under the sink from now on. Just in case.
The recipe for the pineapple pie can be found here . I used diced, fresh pineapple which I heated on the stove until the juice released. I crushed the pineapple a little more and then continued as directed. Instead of lemon juice, I grated fresh lemon over the top before adding the second crust.
To make my t-shirt, I used this simple tutorial.
The goats milk and honey soap was made with:
- 5 ounces rain water
- 2.25 ounces of lye
- 1.4 ounces castor oil
- 6.6 ounces coconut oil
- 8 ounces olive oil
- .7 ounce powdered goats milk
- 1 Tbsp honey
Always be safe when making soap, and double check your measurements with a lye calculator .
Comments
Post a Comment