* * *
It snowed this morning! It started out as sleet, switched over to snow and there is a light dusting on the ground. Sure glad I got everything done in time. Tufts doesn’t like the snow pelting him in the face, and I can’t blame him. I don’t like it either, though I still need to face it to bring in wood. The temperature started out at thirty-three degrees and only got up to thirty-five.
There is looting and mayhem going on in the big city and all the other large cities that are still without power from the Frankenstorm. Society seems to have broken down completely. There were pictures on the news last night of the long lines just to get gas, and they had to start limiting it to ten gallons per person. Fights were breaking out, it’s crazy in the cities. And to think that it will all be fixed in another week.
One news article said, “If people will behave like this during a temporary emergency that lasts only a few days, what would they do during a total economic collapse? That is a frightening thing to think about.”
Very frightening indeed.
I’ve been a bit dizzy the past few days. I think it’s my eyes. I have to remember to stop and pick up my new glasses. Maybe I should run into town tomorrow and do that.
* * *
I picked up my new glasses and feel silly that I had forgotten about them. While in town, I picked up four more cases of quart canning jars. Funny though, it’s the end of canning season, the jars were not even on sale, much-less on clearance.
Jason said his dad was coming up to hunt. He promised me that we would get venison for the freezer. Since I keep little of the freezer meat, and only some of the sausage, I usually make my share into soup and stew meat, all canned. After they get the deer, then I’ll get a couple of pork roasts to grind and add to the sausage. I don’t have the freezer room. I have to remember to check the spices out in the small barn to see if the supply might be getting low, and I’m pretty sure I have enough casings for making the sausage.
* * *
JOURNAL ENTRY: November 4
Amanda is back from her visit to see her mom and stopped over last night with Jacob. She wanted to discuss Thanksgiving plans. This year it’s at their house, so they get to do the turkey and most of the trimmings. My brother lives right across the road from me and his wife, Nancy, is making a couple of pies and I’m bringing my seven-layer salad, fresh bread and the wine. Amanda asked if I would make the gravy since she doesn’t know how, plus the thought of handling/cooking the neck and gizzards makes her queasy. How did she ever make it into her thirties without learning to make gravy?
It is cold here, only thirty-three degrees this morning. I wonder how the people in the big city are managing the cold nights without power. I doubt this storm will wake any of them up.
There is another storm brewing out in the Atlantic. This one is a winter storm, a Nor’easter, which means even more snow for the coast. What little snow that fell here yesterday is now gone.
I’m not sleeping well again. It seems that every other night I don’t sleep at all, and the other nights, it’s a toss-up between really well and fitful. It’s wearing me down. I’m not getting enough rest.
Spring Forward – Fall Back. We are now in Daylight Savings Time, gained an hour of daylight, I think. I can never keep that straight.
I think this is going to be a very boring journal, there is nothing happening in my life. I get up, check email, straighten up the house, do some laundry, plan the day’s menu, let Tufts out, then in, then out. Nothing exciting.
I went for a walk today on my road. I like walking in the fall better because my little ten acres here are a blaze of color. I love the sharp, pungent scent of the pine trees and the smell of damp, decaying leaves when I kick the carpet up. The woods behind me are so grown that the breezes rarely filter down yet I can hear the upper branches swaying and creaking when the wind passes through, even with all the leaves down. These sensory things are just not there when walking on a blacktop road. It still may be exercise, though it is not nearly as enjoyable.
* * *
The news is too depressing to watch with more riots, more crime, and now some areas out east are turning away power crews from other states for the only reason that they’re not part of their union! How stupid can they be?
I called Dawn to see how her prepping was coming along and if she needed any more suggestions, but they weren’t home. So I called Kathy. I sure wish that I could talk her into stocking even a week’s worth of food. She’s got lots of tomato sauce from her Earthboxes and beans from her garden that now are in the freezer. Cheese, crackers and smoked oysters are staples there, to go with their rather extensive wine cellar. I worry about them if they couldn’t get out due to a blizzard or if something worse happened.
I can only suggest.
Watching the news coverage of the storm, my anxiety level has gone up in some ways, and lowered in others. Things went south very quickly. Criminals are opportunists and they sure had the opportunity for looting and other crimes. Those who evacuated the cities late and are now waiting in lines are of the mentality that they cannot blame themselves for not having what it is they need or desire. They, like everyone else, had both the chance and the choice to prepare, and they chose not to.
When the scenario turned into reality, and they see they should have prepared, they must blame someone else. To blame themselves is tantamount to admitting that they are failures, and our current society has programmed us by telling us that there are no failures because everyone is a winner. That failure only gets reinforced when you've failed those you are supposed to protect or those who depend on you, like children, the elderly, or the disabled.
I looked over my food preps and know I'm in good shape for the winter, much longer if I stretch out my canning. I could fill out some spots in my supplies, but toilet paper won't keep me alive, so I'm not overly concerned with it since that's a convenience thing. For what I have and what I need to survive until next summer, I'm good.
When I see on the news and in real life what 'civilized' people are capable of, even knowing that help is on the way, that the power will be back on eventually, and that this will all become a bad dream, what will they be like when they find out that the power won’t be back on, or that help isn’t coming? That's when my anxiety spikes and I check my ammo supplies.
CHAPTER THREE
It was a wonderfully casual morning with gray skies and a threat of snow showers that never materialized. Though it was only thirty-six degrees out, it felt strangely pleasant. I checked my internet groups, sent some emails and had a late breakfast. Then around 11:00 A.M., I went to the Moose Creek township hall to vote. There was no line. There are seven hundred people in the township, though only four hundred fifty-seven registered voters, so I think that if we all showed up at the same time it would still only take an hour. I made my choices and went home after checking the post office for mail.
I’m feeling good about the day, but guilty about not meeting my November 1 deadline, and decided to go into the city, thirty miles away.
First stop was at a big-box store for laundry soap, toilet paper, paper towels, and cat food. Tufts is an important member of the household. He’s the only other member of the household, so his food supply is a high priority to me. While there, I decided on a couple six packs of seltzer water (to go with my spiced rum), and grabbed a couple of bottles of wine. It was a lucrative work season, so I opted for the good stuff.
Then I headed over to Mack’s, my favorite grocery store. I picked up romaine lettuce and celery, a head of cauliflower, some oatmeal, then checked the bargain bin for anything good. There was nothing this time. I was getting some sliced cheese at the deli when my phone rang.
I recognized the number, so I answered immediately.
“Hey, Rick, what’s up?”
“Allex, I have to make this fast, so just listen.” I sighed, thinking that this must be serious since he knows how much I hate being called ‘Allex’. “A 7.8 earthquake hit the New Madrid Fa
ult a few minutes ago. That will likely mean loss of trucking, loss of power, loss of phones. The shit has hit, Allex! Whatever you’re doing, get back home and hunker down.”
He abruptly hung up. I stood there for a moment, stunned. Rick wouldn’t kid around about something like this. If shipping shut down, food supplies will disappear in a hurry since they keep little inventory, only what’s on the shelves. That won’t last once word gets out and then there will be panic buying.
I collected my cheese and headed toward the checkout, trying to stay calm., before I realized that nobody knew yet. I had a rare opportunity to beat the rush. I went back to the meat department and loaded up four turkeys, two hams, six roasts, and a dozen good steaks, putting my few other purchases in the seat area to make room. I went back to the wine aisle for more wine, beer and rum. I saw a bottle of wine called ‘Earthquake’, how appropriate. I grabbed six. Then I nabbed two twenty-five pound bags of flour. It was getting hard to push the cart, so I headed toward the check-out, snagging two big bags of cat food. When I was passing the paper goods aisle, I left my cart, since it was too heavy to maneuver easily, and took two cases of canning seals off the shelf, one regular and one wide mouth, setting them on the bottom of the cart. Nobody buys canning supplies this late in the season.
I couldn’t believe how calm everyone was. Either they hadn’t heard yet, or the “someone else’s problem” mentality kicked in. Here was a major disaster, though in another state. It wouldn’t affect us, right? They really didn’t understand our grid, or our transport system.
I picked Marie’s lane. I like Marie and we’ve gotten to be friends. She never questions what I buy because she knows I live so far out of town.
“Hey, girlfriend! Getting Thanksgiving dinner early, huh?” she smiled and started ringing all of the meat up.
“You could say that. Can I get a couple of the tote boxes? This is going to be heavier than I thought,” I chuckled, trying hard to act natural. I got four and put two turkeys each in two of the boxes and the rest of the meat in the third, the bottles in the last, and used plastic bags for the rest. I was surprised to see the total a bit under five hundred dollars, more than I’m used to spending, yet I thought it would be higher. I swiped my debit card, anticipating they wouldn’t be good in the all-too-near future. Once boxed and bagged, I needed a second cart and one of the baggers to help me.
I turned to leave, and made a decision.
“Marie,” I said quietly, “before you go home tonight, stock up on pet food for your two dogs and the cats, and get your other shopping done, too.” When she asked why, I said “Something has happened. You will find out tonight on the news. Just do your shopping tonight, okay?”
The parking lot looked like it should, but it sure didn’t feel right. Maybe it was just me.
The young man helping me looked at the totes. “That’s a lot of turkeys,” he said.
“Yeah, I have a big family reunion coming up,” I said politely. Rude would be remembered, friendly would not, and I don’t want to be remembered for these purchases when others start getting hungry.
I loaded the rest of the groceries and headed for the exit. Another split decision. I made a left instead of a right. I had three more stops to make, and if all went well, I’d be on the road home in less than an hour. The first stop was the bank, where I withdrew a thousand dollars from my savings account. I’d done that before, so no one even blinked. Next stop was the bulk food place that has some things which no one else does, and in large quantities. I went right to the back and got a half wheel each of parmesan, asiago, cheddar and American cheeses, then two twenty-five pound bags of Basmati rice, Jason’s favorite. I didn’t need anything else from there so it was a quick check out.
The final stop was to top off the gas tank. I was only a quarter-tank down, so that didn’t take any time at all and I was back on the road. It only took forty minutes to get through these three extra stops.
When I got onto County Road 695, the straight stretch to home, I pulled over. My hands were shaking and I dropped the phone twice. I sent out a multiple text, to Soozie, Suzy, Clark, Jane and Pam. Those close friends and my sister would understand the agreed upon code: “Alas, Babylon!” and I added: “New Madrid, 7.8”
Then I called Jason. I asked him if he’d heard what happened, then remembered that he doesn’t have a television, and rarely listens to the radio. I said that I was on my way home, and asked him to meet me at my house in forty minutes.
When I arrived, we watched the news in stunned silence and viewed the aerial pictures of the area. Such devastation! There is actually a crack in the Earth. All this within a week of the damage on the East Coast. How will our country deal with this?
I’m still stunned that I was able to do that last minute shopping without being caught up in a mob. All of the meat is in coolers and the rest of the stuff can wait until tomorrow before I put it away. Right now, I’m exhausted.
* * *
JOURNAL ENTRY: November 7
I slept surprisingly well last night with no dreams that I can remember. I love the lazy mornings now, when I can casually stay in bed and ease myself awake. Then I looked at the clock, 7:30a.m., and realized it was Wednesday! I need to be over on Eagle Beach to give John his weekly massage in 30 minutes. Since it’s only a seven mile drive it doesn’t take long, but I haven’t loaded up my table yet, and I needed to hustle!
* * *
John met me at the door of the house that he shares with a dozen other miners. I could smell the aroma of the breakfast that Steve had cooked and my stomach gurgled. I set up my massage table and got ready to work. The sounds of anxious, almost frantic, newscasters coming from the TV in the other room caught my attention and I peeked around the corner. All the guys were staring at the big-screen TV. None of them had gone to bed yet. Usually the night shift at the mine is brutal and once home they eat and go to bed. Not this time. The horrors of yesterday’s quake took on a surreal feeling as the images were played over and over. There were still no death count totals, however, it’s reported being “very high”.
An hour later I slipped John’s payment into my pocket and packed up my table. I really like this moment, because John hugs me like he enjoys holding me. Neither of us gets hugs and they feel so very good. He gave me an extra-long one today so I asked him if he was okay.
“Quakes always make us really nervous,” he said in his charming North Carolina drawl. “None of the guys want to go down into the mine right now, yet the bosses are pushing us pretty hard to finish the portal by December.” He paused. “We had a rock slide last night. Sammy had his hand on a railing and got two of his fingers crushed. It’s the first accident this mine has had and the project heads are not happy about it. I just wanted to punch someone. Fingers are nothing. Nothing!! I’ve brought guys back out in body bags! Crushed fingers are nothing! Sean is talking about quitting, so is Adam. Liam already did.”
I didn’t know what to say, although could tell that he was done venting. I told him he could call me anytime to talk, gave him another long hug and said that I’d see him next week. My mind was reeling over what he had said, over the earthquake and over the election results. I felt numb.
* * *
I left Eagle Beach and went to Jason’s over on the Dam Road. Last night I had made a list of supplies that I thought they could use, and needed to check with them first. Amanda was still sleeping, but Jason was up, having gotten Jacob off to school. I almost offered to do the shopping for them, but Amanda loves to shop, and would have been royally pissed if I’d left her out of it. I went over the list with Jason.
“I understand, Mom, but I can’t afford all of this. We recently bought Jacob all new clothes for school. He’s growing so fast.” This I understood, he’s already eight, and because he’s growing, the extra clothes in larger sizes would be needed regardless. Not to mention all the food supplies I had listed.
I handed him $500 in cash, then reached in my pocket and gave him what I’d just
earned. “I doubt they’ll be taking checks or debit cards before long.” He looked at me with concern. “I think this is that important, Jason. You and Amanda have to go together. It might be bad in the stores, or soon will be, and you have to be there to protect her. Two of you will be less of a target. Call the school and have them drop Jacob off at my house if you start to run late. Shop fast and shop smart. Don’t forget to fill your gas tank. In fact, do that first!”
Back at home, I plugged in the extra refrigerator in the barn and repacked the meat. The turkeys were still well-frozen, so they went into the lower part, leaving me plenty of room to freeze the rest of the meats. The steaks I bagged individually and vacuumed sealed. The roasts I cut in half and then vacuum sealed. The hams were my quandary, so I stuck them in the fridge with the frozen turkeys. They would hold for quite a while and may become a Christmas treat. With it bouncing between thirty and thirty-five degrees, nothing was going to thaw anytime soon.
The cheeses were good in the cold pantry with the low temperatures. I’ve had hard cheese last a very long time that way, so I’m not concerned. The American cheese would have to be used within a few months. Thankfully, Jacob loves grilled cheese. Once opened, or cut into, I would wrap the cheese in vinegar-soaked cheesecloth and that should hold it even longer.
I found room for the paper goods in the cat pantry, and then put the flour in the metal trash can in the cold pantry. The wine went on the wonderful oak rack that Jason built for me years ago.
The Journal: Cracked Earth Page 4
