Survival Instinct

This chipmunk is getting ready for winter and I can relate: I’ve been prepping for the Financial Apocalypse since 2007.  My dear Duke, who is in a position to know, has been reassuring me for at least that long.  Scorpio continues to tell me I am crazy, but I’m good in bed so he still calls. Actually they both do. I don’t mind:  Duke gives the best financial advice, and Scorpio is a professional chef with a few grocery stores, so you know that when TSHTF I’m gonna eat well!    Everyone else but my dad thinks I’ve lost my freaking mind. Mom won’t even discuss it.

This pantry did not exist a year ago.

Prepping:  It’s in my DNA. My paternal ancestors were hoarding for the Apocalpyse before it was cool. I’m the product of two Calvinist families steeped in Dispensationalism, Dominionism and Millenialism; ergo my  family has been more or less rapture-ready since the 19th century.

To the hardcore faithful being a good Christian involves prepping for a seven-year Tribulation. I have fond memories of raiding my aunt and uncle’s pantry because they kept several years’ worth of cherry and grapefruit flavored hard candies in 50lb lard buckets in their basement, along with boxes and boxes and boxes of elbow noodles and Hamburger Helper. My own parents don’t feel this urge but prepping is in my blood and I’m only just learning how to mentally deal with it. I had no idea what a survivalist maniac I’d become once I clued into the real reason for pretty much every “armageddon” in history: Currency collapses.

Nobody is going hungry in this house! I have multiple food allergies and am not taking any chances at not being able to find my favorite gluten free/organic foods when I need them.

Here’s how I’ve dealt so far:  I built a pantry and purchased long-storage foods and paper hygiene products to hedge against inflation.  The trunk of my car is a contingency planner’s dream. I don’t worry about social unrest because I live in the boonies and I do not own a firearm. For contingencies such as disruptions in power supply or municipal services I bought water purification supplies, a backup power source, and some camping equipment. I keep most of it in my attic.

This is not my garage!  I am not a hardcore prepper. THIS is hardcore. And THIS. I could not devote my life to prepping for an Armageddon that may not come during my lifetime.  I mean, what if the Jeebus doesn’t show? Downer!

Prepping is not just about eating. I put my financial house in order, moved Bunny’s college fund into precious metals, and squirreled some cash  in my house (shh). I made backup copies of birth, marriage and divorce records, stuck them in waterproof holders and hid them in my car. Grandma and Grandpa bought Bunny her first passport and I updated mine.

I still need to buy a shovel and some freeze dried snacks for the car, but otherwise I think I’m done. More prepping simply does not make any sense.  There comes a point where hoarding becomes a sort of mental illness:  I figure, if one goes through a year’s hoard without finding alternative sources for vittles and gear it’s time to MOVE.

So let-er-rip, this financial Armageddon. Let’s get this party started already because I’ve got a ton of food and booze to share with my clueless neighbors. Apocalypse party at my place!

My wine cellar: Mostly hooch, Pellegrino, and three year old beer. And a little wine.