farm « Robin Writes

I’m no stranger to flooding, having grown up in the Missouri River bottoms. One of my earliest memories is down on the family farm looking at the high-water marks left from 1953 onward. In 1986, I was no longer living at home, but we drove in to see the devastation. That one dampened the basement, but the flood of ’93 came up several feet into the house.

Since we moved into our current home, we’ve had a little sogginess in the bedrooms and garage, but then in June a couple years ago, we had to pull three rooms of carpet and replace a lot of drywall. Inches in the bathroom, and all over the edges of the living areas.

Basically, floods seem to follow me.

Now, this year, this month, Missouri is underwater. Mostly. Our plan today was to drive to the farm to drain the water pipes in the house before the freezing temps in a few days. Typically, if your pipes are in insulated walls, you’re fine unless the mercury dips below 20.

We’re not taking any chances, not with new tile and cabinets all over the place.

However, the best laid plans and all that . . .

My husband left an hour ago for the farm. His new plan is to heat up the house, drain the pipes, and head back tomorrow. Going down there has its challenges, as part of the interstate is very, very close to flooded roads, but the rivers are still rising in spite of the rain stopping yesterday.

Well over flood stage is expected over the next few days, so the timing of his trip back may be questionable.

Funny how, when prepping, we don’t often think of floods as an impediment to bugging out. Since most of the weather around here, and between here and there, is generally moderate for at least 9-10 months of the year, we usually think of manmade obstacles.

This is kind of a wake-up call, and I’d urge everyone to not only think about and plan for typical disasters, or even some expected ones, but really—who knew we’d be flooding in December?

Again, the getting there isn’t the problem, at least today; so, if we were bugging out now, we’d go. No questions asked. The time is now, as the rivers are still rising.

Kind of feel like I’m playing Oregon Trail.

In a snowfall situation, same thing. Sometimes you have to make a decision right away, and act on it. No dilly-dallying. Much, much better to leave and maybe come back than to wait until it’s too late.

Of course, you also want to know that where you’re going is safe. Our farm house, for instance, is on a hill. We have great visibility and good drainage, once you get there. That part can be tricky, but once we’re in, we’re in to stay and we have no worries about surviving from that point on.

And it makes it more difficult for anyone we don’t want there to actually arrive.

Kind of have a dilemma here. Since it’s a holiday week and all, I’m going to combine a few posts. I know, I know, you’re thinking, “Crap, and she slacked off last week too!”

Oops. Sorry.

So. Let’s start with prepping:

Around here, folks, it’s getting chilly. Last weekend, at the farm, it was 19 degrees when I got up Saturday morning. Insulation of one’s home is very, very important . . . we knew it was great, because we can’t hardly hear a thing outside when all the windows and door are closed.

Fortunately, they say it’s better to sleep in a colder room than a hot one, because that 19 degrees translated into 55 in the house!

We do not have central heat—and we usually turn the thermostat to 68 at night when we’re in town—but we do have an electric fireplace that’s set to turn off about two hours after we go to bed, and we have a shop heater in the bathroom (turned off overnight) and a heater on rollers in the bedroom area.

And an electric mattress pad.

This is the known around our house as The Best Thing Ever. Nothing beats it for keeping warm, and it’s great for sore muscles too, at the end of the day. That, with a heavy quilt, will keep you toasty.

Until you get up. Ha.

Dressing for the weather, too, is something to consider. Thermal underwear, layers, or even those battery-operated warming boot soles that keep cropping up in my newsfeed . . . Shivering burns calories, which can sometimes be good—like the week after Thanksgiving—but in a survival situation, you’ll be limiting calories in the first place, and a warm night’s sleep will do wonders for your physical health and mental outlook.

Moving on to the remodel:

Last week, the kitchen came out—all but the refrigerator, which got shoved over to block the lean-to door. Good thing we aren’t using that lean-to just yet.

Of course, this also requires some cooking/kitchen adjustments:

But—NEXT week, you’ll get to see the progress on the NEW kitchen! Yay! Oh, and while the guys were busy, I set up and wired the CB base unit. Pretty sure, though, that someone else will be installing that 30-foot antenna on the roof . . . pretty darn sure it won’t be me!

And finally, Fan Friday: Man vs Woman, or “Things I’ve Learned this Week:”

My husband occasionally needs my help with projects, not just the ones we work on together. I’ve learned, over almost 19 years, to wait at least ten minutes before jumping up and running to his side to hold something or whatever.

Unless, of course, it’s an urgent situation with “Hurry, dammit!” thrown in there.

But typically, if I come a’runnin’, I have to stand there and wait for at least five minutes while he recalculates or refigures something. Or looks for a part or a tool. No, guys, five minutes isn’t long unless your wife is standing in one spot listening to you mutter to yourself and wondering if you’re talking to her.

See, if a woman needs help, say, in the kitchen—am I being sexist? Too bad. That’s how we roll around here. Well, not really sexist, but I guarantee you that he’s the one that calls for help with a project and I’m the one in the kitchen—she’ll call you in and hand you a jar and say, “Open it, please.”

There I go again. Sorry. Men ARE typically stronger than women, so deal with it.

But she won’t leave you standing there for five minutes.

Part II of Man vs Woman:

When you, a dude, walk into a kitchen where your wife is preparing a meal, you need to realize that she’s not only chopping an onion, for example, but she’s timing the asparagus in the oven, mulling over which dish to start prepping next, and wondering if she has enough of that one type of seasoning.

While trying to hide the birthday cake topper for the 18-year-old’s cake, in case he actually wanders out of his room before the dinner bell sounds.

Okay, we don’t actually have a dinner bell, and he’s gonna love this cake. Or hate it. Heh.

My point is that, walking into the kitchen and not seeing the mop bucket by the door should NOT prompt the question, “Where’s the mop bucket?”

The bucket is either by the door, outside the door, or emptied and put away and in the laundry closet.

LOOK FOR IT.

If, and only if, it’s not in one of three usual places, THEN you can ask. You are not interrupting the onion-chopping, women are very good at multitasking, you are interrupting her train of thought.

And before anyone says something like, “Your husband USES the mop bucket??” I will tell you that yes, he does. And the reason it wasn’t by the door was because he left it there yesterday, instead of taking it outside and emptying it, and I moved it.

And he did bring it in and he did use it and then put it outside again.

But here’s the cake. What do you think? Too much flashback for the kid?