I volunteered at our school’s flu clinic on Saturday. It was bit like locking the barn door after the horse was out as most of our kids have already had what appeared to be the flu a month ago. Still, on the off-chance that that was some other random virus, a lot of people opted to get the vaccine anyway. I found one thing disconcerting. The signage for the event was from FEMA and said: Medication available, Free, and We are here to help. I’m not sure why that was creepy to me but it was. The signs were obviously meant to be generic and cover any mass medication or inoculation event. I guess it makes it pretty real that the Feds have geared up for something major.

Bruce and I brought home the bacon yesterday. Our hams, jowls and bacon were all smoked and ready for the freezer. The farm where we picked them up is only about a mile from my house and has been on the market off and on for a few years. It’s a beautiful place but way out of our price range and probably more farm than we really want to deal with. Still, I indulged in a bit of dreaming.

I am an old stick-in-the-mud when it comes to change of any sort. I have always composted in a heap but the permaculture book I am reading suggests that you should just toss your compostables right on the garden bed you are creating with sheet mulch. I get the premise but it just feels wrong to put my garbage in the back yard. I’m doing it with vegetable wastes, coffee ground and egg shells and hope I get good soil and not rats. I suppose the rats would be as likely to come to the compost heap as anywhere else. This does bring up a good preparedness point (thank goodness because, as you might have noticed, I’ve got nothing this morning).  We are really creatures of habit. I think that people who are assuming they will change their ways of living if they have too are in for a shock when they see how difficult that is. My sister, brother and respective spouses came over for dinner on Saturday. I proudly showed off our wine and brandy jugs, pickles, applesauce, bread, pork and vegetables as it all came from our land except for the flour, yeast and salt. I suppose I wanted them to be interested in the process and see it as a realistic way to live. They raved about the food but I think they see me as their slightly quirky little sister, cute, but silly, even though they can acknowledge that their own futures are not as rosy as they had anticipated they would be. They are not likely to make any changes until they are dragged, kicking and screaming, into a world of declining resources.