Smoke Test Shack

One of the things that I turn to, in times of crisis or just when planning about the future, is an unexpected gift I found in the sermon from my grandmother’s funeral.

The preacher didn’t particularly know my grandmother — she hadn’t gone out much, including to church, in some years — but from talking to us he managed to find a story that captured her pretty well. What he settled on was a story from the time of the Cold War, when it was fairly common for folks to anticipate Russian nuclear attacks and speculate about the death, destruction, and chaos that might result. During one particularly tense period, my mother and my aunt (who were pretty young at the time) asked my grandmother what she thought about the Bomb. What she said was this:

“Here’s the way I figure it. The Russians might nuke us, or they might not. If they do, then some people are going to die right away, and the people left over will have to go up in the hills and survive. Some of them will make it, and some of them won’t. I figure, I’ll be one of them that makes it.”

Knowing my grandmother, this was neither a statement backed by a massive stock of ammunition nor one backed by airy nothingness and naivete — nor, the preacher’s stock conclusion aside, was it an indication of Ethel’s deep and abiding faith in God, and now let us pray. Not, mind you, that she wasn’t a person of faith — but she was also inclined to let God get on with His own business while she quietly set to doing hers.

What she had a stock of was herself — which is the only thing any of us can ultimately stock up on, really — and the willingness and confidence to conclude that whatever came in life she’d find a way to deal with it, whether it was running from the Russians or hiding out from the CIA in an Alzheimer’s care facility.

Now, admittedly, I may possibly have to admit to buying the complete set of Foxfire books and a book on primitive carpentry shortly after getting an email at work containing a great many innovative euphemisms for “layoffs”, but I do generally consider these to be amusing diversions from the basic principle my grandmother taught me: You can’t necessarily know what you’ll run into in life, but you can know that you’ll deal with what you need to when you get there.

There are many like it, but this one is mine.

This blog is about experimenting, and this blog is itself an experiment — to try new things, see how they work, and write about them. Expect, possibly, discussion of subjects like survivalism, minimalism, frugality, why most people who talk about these subjects are full of shit and I am awesome, how to kill things and eat them (as soon as I myself figure out to do this) and possibly (if you are very unlucky indeed) philosophical ramblings.

And, of course, zombies.