We take stock of our preps weekly, I’d say. It’s not a structured thing or formal exercise, just the reflection of a mindset that regularly considers where we’re good and where we might not be so good.
By this point, any deficiency we find is a matter of quantity. (Having enough of this or that, that is.) Usually, anyway. But every now and then, we discover a hole.
Often that’s the direct result of a string of changes we made in the way we live — leaving a conventional existence and going on the road, then returning and liquidating our household, then continuing to live an RV life, and finally moving to The Mountain. We maintained our readiness the best we could throughout, but over the course of four years, some things were bound to slip.
Our recent trip to Ohio served as something of a resupply mission. We brought back stuff we’d already bought and paid for. Even after doing that, we continue to look for gaps that need filling.
About a week ago, for example, it occurred to me that we still were missing a few basic medical supplies. Though our go-bags are set, Deb carries a great kit in the Jeep, and we have comprehensive stores at home, for some reason I hadn’t yet put together a solid kit for the truck.
I came up with a list and made a small online purchase from a respected outfitter. USPS says it’ll be here tomorrow, but I seriously doubt that — my order shipped two days ago from Utah, and this morning it was scanned in Anchorage, Alaska.
It’ll get here eventually.
The whole idea, though, is committing to an assessment that never stops. That goes for skills as well as supplies. Whether it’s weekly or monthly, formal or informal, this is the way.
We made some adjustments today to our usual Sunday routine. For one thing, and for a change, we didn’t need provisions, so there would be no curbside pickup. Second, we had to go to Mountain Home to fetch Deb’s prescriptions, and we decided to check that box before doubling back to the laundromat.
Walgreen’s opened at 10am, and we were at the drive-up window at ten sharp. The prescriptions, called-in the day before, weren’t yet ready. Worse, the uncharacteristically unfriendly child at the window wouldn’t commit to when Deb’s meds would be available for pickup. We told her we’d be back at 11:30am and drove to Gassville to do laundry.
It ended up being noon by the time we pulled up again. The same young woman brought the same attitude to our second conversation. When asked if there were any coupons available for the (expensive) prescriptions, she tossed a slip of paper at us and told us to pull into a parking space and figure it out.
“I have to keep the line moving.”
There was, as it turned out, a coupon Deb could use. This time she went inside to the pharmacy counter, where she got the same surly, un-Ozarkansas treatment. It was easily the worst service experience we’ve had here in three years.
We headed for Home.
Along the way, spontaneously I turned into the Friend Orchards Farm Market. We browsed baskets of fresh produce and Country snacks, ultimately choosing peaches, a tomato and a small watermelon.
“How do I know if this melon is ready?” Deb asked the older woman at the register.
The woman smiled. She walked over to the other end of the counter, rummaged around, and came back with a single, straight piece of straw. Resting the watermelon in front of us on the counter, she carefully balanced the straw atop the melon and stepped back.
Slowly, the straw began to spin like a propeller.
Our jaws were on the floor. “What did you just do?” Deb asked.
The woman grinned, revealing the old Country secret — place a piece of broom straw on a melon, and if the straw spins, the melon is ripe’n’ready. If it just sits there, best choose another melon.
To illustrate, she took us over to the watermelon bin and set the straw on a half-dozen of the fruit. Four were spinners. Two needed more time.
We paid for our purchases, said our goodbyes and got back in the truck.
“Y’know, I should’ve gotten a picture of that,” Deb said. “I didn’t take a single picture.”
She paused for a moment before adding, “But I love it here.
“I do so love it here.”
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB