What can you do with a blog, of any sort, except tell stories, and try to correct some errors and omissions? I am not a blogger in the usual sense, I am just looking for ways to communicate these days since I can't do the huge volume of email that used to characterize my daily communications. I need all that energy, now to fight my cancers.
Fighting cancer takes a lot out of you and it takes a huge amount of physical energy away, energy formerly squandered on politics, fighting giant pharma, big agra and others who seem determined not to understand that they poison not only me, not only you, not only the world, but they poison themselves and their own children.... think not?
If you think they are are not killing their own children, let them try to find some absolutely clean water; let them try to eat an absolutely organic chemical free cabbage; let them try to pick a fresh plum that is not covered by xeno dust, powders, chemicals, who knows what chemical insecticides, fungicides, and other fallout; let them eat plums,l apples, and carrots that must suck up water polluted with every sort of medical, agricultural, and human and feed lot chemical, plums that must breathe air that floats like a sort of universal sea of chemicalized, contaminated air prepared as far away as your next town, pollutants from China, radiation from Russia, and other parts... think that we are not all poisoned? Think, think again.
But, as I was saying, I need all that extra energy now, all the energy I can muster to help me process the daily radiation burns and the monumental detoxification on all levels required to fight the aggressor --- a sort of silence, powerful, evil termite that invaded my defense system, and slowly began to consume me, rather like a voracious Trojan Horse hidden in my lungs and bones, digging holes in my spine, trying to collapse my tower of strength, .... who knows when the attack on my body started, who knows how long I lived side by side with my silent, invisible, killing visitor... I had not a clue. Then, in seven incredible days in July, I was determined to be a miracle case: July 12, we never catch it this early, it is small cell carcinoma, only a small patch in your lower left lung.... we can clean it up quickly), about July 5: your condition is very advanced, very serious and it has spread to the spine you have to start some treatment immediately, we are ordering more tests; then, the fateful July 15 when the oncologist, without benefit of all tests told me quickly in less than ten minutes that I only had a two percent chance to survive, that I would be paralyzed in a matter of days.... the termite was trying to finish off my T4 vertebrae and take control of my spinal canal and prepare to lunch on my spinal cord.
I wanted a second opinion, I wanted something besides the virtual death guaranteed by chemotherapy. You can't travel they said; you are dead walking he said. But shortly, I was out of Texas and in California and getting both radiation and alternative therapy..... and boy did I need the radiation to help head off the cancer at the pass commonly called T4... stop them there or call it a day it seemed.... now I have four more days of radiation to go..... gotta love those cobalt canon firing their deadly invisible beams into my deadly cancer termites.
But I digress, I wanted to talk about Wilbur Ramsey, and with you permission, here is what I wanted to say to an old friend. I am writing the following in particular because I failed to thank Wilbur in a prior email ... it was, I think, an odd oversight on my part. I blame it the pain killer drugs with which I am loaded. Drugs are certainly an essential if very excessively used part of our society but they also pose a serious intervention in the brain which may sometimes go unnoticed
Yesterday I was trying to remember people to thank. I wanted to be sure to make note of some very important contributors in my life even though I know there are too many to fully appreciate or recognize, try though I may. At the moment, about 2:15 AM, I am sweating it out again, drenched, and thinking of a friend, a former newspaper editor and publisher --- from the old days when the newspaper was published for the community, not for the political agenda of some far off power broker. And the world was still more or less what we once considered the world to be, unlike the present formless, plastic situation in which nothing is sure on any level.
I failed to mention him in my prior communique and find it odd that he slipped the foggy pain free zone that used to be my ever alert brain.
Wilbur Ramsey and his wife have been friends for a number of years. Wilbur is a dedicated fellow health research aficionado and has often aided us in helping others based on his keen memory and the thousands of pages of true research material which he has read during the last several years.
He has never failed to voluntarily help me by suggesting product sources, offering editorial suggestions, sending or turning me on to some good manufacturing labs. Wilbur is also a fantastic product designer and on his website you can find some of the best alternative products on the market today. Men, in particular, would find Wilbur's prostate product well worth examining along with things like cancer fighting Graviola, Esiak Tea (Canadian Nurse Essie), and AHCC --- the great Japanese mushroom product... I am not saying these things will cure you, cancer, or anything, I am saying they are good products, and well worth investigation and research. Wilbur is a great source for these types of unique products and for information about such types of products.
You can find Wilbur at
www.globalnutritions.com/catalog.htm
But what I wanted to say is that when Wilbur found out I had cancer, the following morning or so, I had a huge box of cancer fighting Graviola, Esiak Tea, and AHCC (active hexose correlated compound) sitting on my desk compliments of Wilbur... even drugs can't make you forget old friends like Wilbur. I did not see an invoice or questions about payment.
This is not the end of this or any story, it is one of many. Shortly I want to tell you a story, an old one, a little story about a gold coin which our friends, Greg and Catherine Leake, know of.
I have been trying also to think of what to say to and about Marti DeCluitt --- http://www.facebook.com/people/Marti-DeCluitt/1321035873 ---a remarkable person, a world class citizen in many ways, and a good friend decade after decade after decade.
Thanks for allowing me to share this memory.
Terry
I regret I still can't deal with open phone lines but I do accept messages at 903-285-6661, I am getting mail here in California and I am getting mail at PO Box 596, Mount Vernon, Texas, 75457, our personal PO Box.
I answer what I can as I can.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
The Opinion --- You have a 2% chance of survival and you will probably be paralyzed in a couple of weeks.
Needless to say, a sane person can hardly go forward with such a premise as a plan of action!!!
Having recently been given a very bad cancer prognosis by some conventional doctors in Texas, I am now in California with one of the world's premier alternative doctors at the Issels Medical Center in Santa Barabara, California where I am doing both alternative and conventional treatments. As my situation is very serious, I think you can at least assume that I am telling you the truth as I see it. As I am on some drugs, I may not be as clear as I would like to be, but these words are my view at the moment, drugs or no.
I wish I had the energy to write all that I would like to communicate but, while I feel I am making progress, and I am still rather weak and can't address many things I would like.
First of all thanks for the huge blessing your thoughts words, works, and resources have been to me in this particular crisis. I strongly suspect that without the immediate surge of support, I might already be history. As it is, circumstances carried me immediately to this wonderful clinic and its very anti-cancer contrarian staff--- they have a world class outlook, almost fifty years of proven experience,and they are winning the broad battle against cancer.
It is pitiful that the standard insurance and medical practice drivers, the PTB (the power that be), of this country are only dedicated to promoting chemo, surgery, and radiation when other, cheaper, and more effective tools are well known..... the big guns in this country just will not support alternative medicine or research yet, though as the cancers spread perhaps their outlook will, at last, change.
Even he worst of things, greed-materialism-immorality-poverty, must collapse in time and we can look forward to a brighter day in these and other arenas. I should mention, that even though my alternative doctors generally oppose radiation, they all agree that I have no alternative but to undergo radiation to stop the invasion of my spine by my rapidly advancing cancer and, hopefully avoid the threat of a spinal collapse and paralysis within a short term.... so I am being daily cooked in my mid back zone with radiation from Cobalt guns... .a surreal experience conducted in near darkness and total silence while giant machines seems to study your body for the best place to take a bite. I regret the need, I do not fear the technology, it is just technology unlike chemo which is just a perfect total body poison... not big deal and I do appreciate the subsequent pain relief I have felt. I was in terrible pain for nearly 15 weeks and the radiation has almost eliminated the pain in four low dose treatments back to back.
If you wonder why I am so busy, just think of this, while I am getting various IV potions, people are busy taking blood, taking temps, weight, blood pressure, oxygen content, and on and on, in the meantime I am being herded up and down the halls going from Far Infrared Therapy... .a way of being cooked at around 125 degrees inside and out and then on to Hyperbaric Oxygen Saturation, very hot and drying in a large plastic tube..... but cancer cannot survive in oxygen... it loves sugar, alcohol, and hates oxygen and fresh green vegetables (these are clues folks).
While these things, and lymphatic massage, and acupuncture and related things go on, I take the equivalent of one pill about every four minutes..... it keeps a fellow busy, not to mention the business of brewing and taking coffee enemas (coffee for enemas is not a Folgers' product' and you tell it is medical coffee by the price :-)
Suzi is exhausted trying to deal with me and my needs and, frankly, without her I would be as near to a dead duck as I would care to be. She is worked to death dealing with trying to keep our little cottage by the bay (Issels Medical Clinic housing) on a diet plan that corresponds to my needs, dealing with my sweats and T-Shirts and such due to the fact that I with my nightly fever condition (detoxification) go three three two or three sets of sweats and underwear a night... or more.
I get very hot, sweat out the suit, then I begin to freeze and have to change into dry clothes at once..... along with this problem I taking drugs to help tamp down pain and inflammation; drugs like hydrocodone (rather like codeine), morphine (which I take as little as possible--really nasty stuff), prednisone which helps with pain and inflammation (and worse, perhaps) it makes me so emotional that I can hardly speak at times.... I know it drives Suzi crazy, when she says, "Be careful or how do you feel?" and I respond by tearing up or telling her I will cut her heart out and serve it up on a raw onion taco.... this will test the limits of any relationship.
In the dark of the night, I think of better times, not that these are not great, Thank You God, I listen to or read Marty Kleva (Thank You God) and her works regarding stress and overcoming major body trauma -- you can find Marty at http://www.gemfireair.com/, and I often read from Martina Newberry's poetry collection where we can all discover that we are somehow attached to Blue Island and Martina and each other (Thank You God.)
Most of you know Suzi is very petite, has small structure and hands and it hard for her to handle heavy things, jar lids, and such, and yet here she is stuck with lifting everything in our life... I can't even lift a quart jar and the laundry weighs more than she does.
I have to sign off..... I am hopeful of some sleep.
I do want especially to thank Caroline Durston of Spa Rio Caliente ( a great place for rest, R&R, and to dump some stress) near Guadalajara, in old Mexico, for her quick, forceful, positive support and encouragement, to Edna Hennessee of Dream Valley the quick influx of a priceless supply of Aloe Mystery and WLA 132 --- two of the most powerful agents in the world against radiation burns and effective against cancer, --- if you have an interest in Aloe, Edna is the expert with the best, purest aloe on the planet, in my opinion, and she also provides great private label product services and fine aloe drinks --- and of course, all thanks to my wonderful family, Kim and Todd in particular, for providing us an easy way to make the planes and arrive here promptly.
I want to thank the Deerings, old Taos friends, who daily continue to help me with certain types of bioenergetic information and symbols (peculiar to the type of exceptional and unique body information that the Deerings have developed in connection with healing) The Deerings can be found through Spirit Emergence of Taos --- if you have a health problem you can't overcome, these folks are well worth consulting. Trust me, I have many more to thank for many things including those who, like Marty Kleva, Marty DeCluitt, my wife's family, and my own family, seem to have always been ready in the background.
Believe me, I am doing all I can to beat this and will, in due course, bring the news about how to do it to the public in anyway that I can. Suzi and I will soon put up a website to explain what we have learned and to share that with others.... I imagine we are going ahead to make this some sort of donor/subscription/and free service but these, and other events remain to unfold in their own good time.
In closing, some of you who know me well, may be amused that there is long chance that an attack by a buffalo, now about 30 years ago, may have a role in my current health battle; seems that some elk and some buffalo are infected with brucellosis which has many similarities to cancer... it will be another week before we have these answers.
The best I can suggest to you at this time is to broaden your relationship with whatever your version of the Great Spirit is, eat raw green leafy vegetables, drop all the stress you can, cut sugar and alcohol and smoking at once, and, every day, for every challenge, for every pain, for every second chance, just say, "Thank You, God, Thank You."
Terry Turner
Needless to say, a sane person can hardly go forward with such a premise as a plan of action!!!
Having recently been given a very bad cancer prognosis by some conventional doctors in Texas, I am now in California with one of the world's premier alternative doctors at the Issels Medical Center in Santa Barabara, California where I am doing both alternative and conventional treatments. As my situation is very serious, I think you can at least assume that I am telling you the truth as I see it. As I am on some drugs, I may not be as clear as I would like to be, but these words are my view at the moment, drugs or no.
I wish I had the energy to write all that I would like to communicate but, while I feel I am making progress, and I am still rather weak and can't address many things I would like.
First of all thanks for the huge blessing your thoughts words, works, and resources have been to me in this particular crisis. I strongly suspect that without the immediate surge of support, I might already be history. As it is, circumstances carried me immediately to this wonderful clinic and its very anti-cancer contrarian staff--- they have a world class outlook, almost fifty years of proven experience,and they are winning the broad battle against cancer.
It is pitiful that the standard insurance and medical practice drivers, the PTB (the power that be), of this country are only dedicated to promoting chemo, surgery, and radiation when other, cheaper, and more effective tools are well known..... the big guns in this country just will not support alternative medicine or research yet, though as the cancers spread perhaps their outlook will, at last, change.
Even he worst of things, greed-materialism-immorality-poverty, must collapse in time and we can look forward to a brighter day in these and other arenas. I should mention, that even though my alternative doctors generally oppose radiation, they all agree that I have no alternative but to undergo radiation to stop the invasion of my spine by my rapidly advancing cancer and, hopefully avoid the threat of a spinal collapse and paralysis within a short term.... so I am being daily cooked in my mid back zone with radiation from Cobalt guns... .a surreal experience conducted in near darkness and total silence while giant machines seems to study your body for the best place to take a bite. I regret the need, I do not fear the technology, it is just technology unlike chemo which is just a perfect total body poison... not big deal and I do appreciate the subsequent pain relief I have felt. I was in terrible pain for nearly 15 weeks and the radiation has almost eliminated the pain in four low dose treatments back to back.
If you wonder why I am so busy, just think of this, while I am getting various IV potions, people are busy taking blood, taking temps, weight, blood pressure, oxygen content, and on and on, in the meantime I am being herded up and down the halls going from Far Infrared Therapy... .a way of being cooked at around 125 degrees inside and out and then on to Hyperbaric Oxygen Saturation, very hot and drying in a large plastic tube..... but cancer cannot survive in oxygen... it loves sugar, alcohol, and hates oxygen and fresh green vegetables (these are clues folks).
While these things, and lymphatic massage, and acupuncture and related things go on, I take the equivalent of one pill about every four minutes..... it keeps a fellow busy, not to mention the business of brewing and taking coffee enemas (coffee for enemas is not a Folgers' product' and you tell it is medical coffee by the price :-)
Suzi is exhausted trying to deal with me and my needs and, frankly, without her I would be as near to a dead duck as I would care to be. She is worked to death dealing with trying to keep our little cottage by the bay (Issels Medical Clinic housing) on a diet plan that corresponds to my needs, dealing with my sweats and T-Shirts and such due to the fact that I with my nightly fever condition (detoxification) go three three two or three sets of sweats and underwear a night... or more.
I get very hot, sweat out the suit, then I begin to freeze and have to change into dry clothes at once..... along with this problem I taking drugs to help tamp down pain and inflammation; drugs like hydrocodone (rather like codeine), morphine (which I take as little as possible--really nasty stuff), prednisone which helps with pain and inflammation (and worse, perhaps) it makes me so emotional that I can hardly speak at times.... I know it drives Suzi crazy, when she says, "Be careful or how do you feel?" and I respond by tearing up or telling her I will cut her heart out and serve it up on a raw onion taco.... this will test the limits of any relationship.
In the dark of the night, I think of better times, not that these are not great, Thank You God, I listen to or read Marty Kleva (Thank You God) and her works regarding stress and overcoming major body trauma -- you can find Marty at http://www.gemfireair.com/, and I often read from Martina Newberry's poetry collection where we can all discover that we are somehow attached to Blue Island and Martina and each other (Thank You God.)
Most of you know Suzi is very petite, has small structure and hands and it hard for her to handle heavy things, jar lids, and such, and yet here she is stuck with lifting everything in our life... I can't even lift a quart jar and the laundry weighs more than she does.
I have to sign off..... I am hopeful of some sleep.
I do want especially to thank Caroline Durston of Spa Rio Caliente ( a great place for rest, R&R, and to dump some stress) near Guadalajara, in old Mexico, for her quick, forceful, positive support and encouragement, to Edna Hennessee of Dream Valley the quick influx of a priceless supply of Aloe Mystery and WLA 132 --- two of the most powerful agents in the world against radiation burns and effective against cancer, --- if you have an interest in Aloe, Edna is the expert with the best, purest aloe on the planet, in my opinion, and she also provides great private label product services and fine aloe drinks --- and of course, all thanks to my wonderful family, Kim and Todd in particular, for providing us an easy way to make the planes and arrive here promptly.
I want to thank the Deerings, old Taos friends, who daily continue to help me with certain types of bioenergetic information and symbols (peculiar to the type of exceptional and unique body information that the Deerings have developed in connection with healing) The Deerings can be found through Spirit Emergence of Taos --- if you have a health problem you can't overcome, these folks are well worth consulting. Trust me, I have many more to thank for many things including those who, like Marty Kleva, Marty DeCluitt, my wife's family, and my own family, seem to have always been ready in the background.
Believe me, I am doing all I can to beat this and will, in due course, bring the news about how to do it to the public in anyway that I can. Suzi and I will soon put up a website to explain what we have learned and to share that with others.... I imagine we are going ahead to make this some sort of donor/subscription/and free service but these, and other events remain to unfold in their own good time.
In closing, some of you who know me well, may be amused that there is long chance that an attack by a buffalo, now about 30 years ago, may have a role in my current health battle; seems that some elk and some buffalo are infected with brucellosis which has many similarities to cancer... it will be another week before we have these answers.
The best I can suggest to you at this time is to broaden your relationship with whatever your version of the Great Spirit is, eat raw green leafy vegetables, drop all the stress you can, cut sugar and alcohol and smoking at once, and, every day, for every challenge, for every pain, for every second chance, just say, "Thank You, God, Thank You."
Terry Turner
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Oncologist says It's Over
The Dire Oncologist Says It's Over
Dear Friends, I have received a near guaranteed death sentence.
It is non operable lung cancer that has spread to spine, ribs, and perhaps other areas in the skeleton. The cancer is busy eating my spinal column and trying to invade the spinal canal an and attack the spinal cord itself.
The oncologist told Suzi and I that there was a 2% chance of survival even with chemo. Alternative clinics have much higher success rates and we are researching them as well as other treatments.
I am posting a closed for inventory sale. All our time from now on will be spent on research for a cure. Since we are in the rapids and time is of the essence, we will not have much time for conversations. You can imagine that I would love to visit with all my old friends and family, but I must have my available energy for research and working up my own protocol or at least a protocol to attack this cancer.
I am posting a closed for inventory sale. All our time from now on will be spent on research for a cure. Since we are in the rapids and time is of the essence, we will not have much time for conversations. You can imagine that I would love to visit with all my old friends and family, but I must have my available energy for research and working up my own protocol or at least a protocol to attack this cancer.
I love and appreciate you, and to the extent I can I will keep you informed. I trust you understand that I do not accept that I am a dead man and I entirely reject this callous death sentence on behalf of myself and my wife, Susan.
Terry
Photo Credit, unknown, maybe by Suzi, of the Church at Abiquiqu, New Mexico long ago, far away.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Nothing
Terry Turner, copyright, 2009
Several years ago, about 1983, I erected a small sign near Piedras Negras.
It read:
"Nothing unimportant ever happens."
That comment was followed by this comment, for I wanted it to be a clear sign:
July 83
A frog croaked once.
Piedras Negras, Mexico
Next time I go back there, if I ever make it back there, I shall put up another sign in confirmation of the first sign.
Our world is slipping away but, midst the hot dogs, the beer, the telly, the cd, the vcr, the i-phone or that phone, the struggle to pay the rent, mortgage or utilities, the orgasms and the lack of orgasms, no one notices that we have become slaves.
It will be July in a few days; the world will begin to shake. Suddenly everything will be more important than ever before.
Of course, some could successfully argue that nothing important ever happens; and some could argue that the worst never happens---certainly that would be my preference.
Perhaps, if I get back to Piedras Negras, I shall put up a sign that says "Less, dear friends, less is more." Think of less las you would think about emptiness. Emptiness is what makes things useful, as we all know; the window is useful by its empty space; the glass could not be filled if it were not empty; less requires less protection; less time, and less investment of capital and energy. Less is great indeed.
Photo Credit. Probably taken by Ron K.
Terry and Gene disagree over vital points circa 1984
Friday, June 19, 2009
Buffalo Walk
Coyright, Terry Turner, 2009
A leaf from an old journal...
"... Returning across the prairies plagued by grass fires, fires which roamed across the land much like giant herds of buffalo had done in the past, I felt I had been forever walking as it is a long walk from the Alabama Coushatta off to the South to reach the Kickapoo and Wichita of the North. Where the fire had fed some days past, the charcoal black earth is already studded with the multimillion emerald green fingers of promised grass.
Can home be so far? ..."
Near old Fort Richardson
Jacksboro, Texas and miles to go
Winter, 1976
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
My Delivery -- adventures in an old notebook
My Delivery -- adventures in an old notebook
Copyright, Terry Turner, 2009
Several years ago an unusual fellow, a recluse of sorts, who lives back off the Canon Road came to call with a small painting to sell, as he occasionally had done before. The Canon road is an eastward extension of Kit Carson and runs from Taos and on up to Angel Fire and is also the Taos route to Eagle Nest. An amazing assortment of clever, creative folk live up in the Canon; but then an amazing number of clever creative people live all over Taos and New Mexico in general.
This fellow, Phineas, came by our gallery, the old Field’s Gallery on Kit Carson, to drop off one his rarely produced paintings --- a primitive as they say, a piece of one by sixteen inch pine on which he had carved a red bird about to eat a small red apple --- very primitive and very powerful, almost archetypal. The artist, writer, philosopher, recluse, Phineas T. Strongtoe, was stopping by also to give me a small stack of notebooks, the scholastic sort which comes with blank lined papers bound in a cardboard cover, “Someone will call for these in a day or two, just hand it to her will you?” I said I would hand them over when asked for. That was in the fall of 1999. I tucked notebooks away in my desk and time continued, as usual, to go by.
Suzi and I personally collected most of his work but one day I had the bird piece on display and sold it on a whim. Who knows why? I always wished that I had not sold it. At least I sold it to a nice lady; a resident of Taos, who seemed to appreciate the work and whose name, regretfully, at the moment I do not recall.
Lots more time went by and I did not think of Phineas or the notebooks.
Then in the summer of 2001 there were some forest fires in the Taos area, worrisome fires; even worse fires came in 2002, and in 2003 came what was generally called the Great Encebado Fire. It was a huge tree eating fire and it burning a little over a couple of miles from our gallery door. We were advised to be ready to evacuate at once --- you’ve no idea how that order feels when you are looking at a million dollars worth of art with no labor or transport available to move it. Most people who could leave the zone had already done so. The smoke settled over the town and Suzi and I were trying to breathe by using fans to blow air laden with smoke particles through wet sheets that we hoped would be a sort of air filter. It was dicey to say the least. During the last smoke filled week, with a thousand fire fighters that were still unable to beat the Encebado fire back, Suzi and I were overcome with a sort of wistfulness for the clean air and snows of Colorado. The exhausted fighters eventually, courageously prevailed but not without an incredible effort.
Which brings us back to Strongtoe’s notebooks; years had gone by and no one had called for the notebooks and Strongtoe had not returned to sell us any of his primitive artwork. Further, I had been unable to make any contact with the person Strongtoe had mentioned; one Sunday we drove down to Santa Fe only to get reports that person had gone, we were told, to the island of Bimini as part of a search team looking for a long lost treasure.
I passed the Strongtoe notebooks from my desk to my important papers file and they moved with us, in due course, to Colorado and here and there, thereafter. No word of Strongtoe, no word of any sort ever came.
At last I determined to do what I think is reasonable. I am publishing a passage, a few pages, from one notebook to “signal” Phineas and the other person that I still have these and that I can be contacted.
Have I read the notebooks? After more than a decade, what do you think? I have read every fascinating word.
Here then, is what I think of as the delivery from the journals of ever elusive Phineas Strongtoe. Here then are the words of Strongtoe in a passage titled, The Mechanical Grandmother and Other Tales
In dreaming deep, I found myself traveling in company with an awesome Angel who cradled the eyeless corpse of ethics as we searched for the Forbidden Key which, hopefully, might restore it to life.
Sometimes walking, sometimes flying, we went down an endless trail of lifeless schools and churches, churches and schools long dead, yet peopled to overflowing. Filled with crowds who sought the Word of God but instead were taught a litany hate hymns by the songs of hollow eyed teaches, hollow word preachers, deaf rabbis, and shadowy priests and professors whose reason flowed from agendas with no reference to science or reason. A gaggle of leaders and teachers who masturbated public guilt cubes and were trapped in huge glass bottles; bottles corked and red wax sealed with history that had long since forgotten how to smile having been many times rewritten to suit the passing treason. Passing those ghostly rows of churches and schools, busily recording what they lied, amazed, I watched, I witnessed, and I saw that they grew and expanded even though they had long since died.
On we went. Plunging through the darkness until at last we came upon a sea, oily black, whereon floated murky barques of misty pharaohs waiting, waiting for a czar. With smoky breath dripping perdition, my foul Angel said those pharaohs waited in vain because the czar remained beneath a great pyramid, fearful of the god gating prophet murderers who had captured Love and raped her to sire a new and terrible religion.
Throughout that infected sea and all around its shores stood cat-eyed high priests who shouted orders at a master mummy, a pharaoh monster that plunged through the reeds and struggled over the whispering sands in pursuit of the wife of Atlantis, she who built the great pyramids of the world in a single day with eleven little songs.
At length we passed out of that dreadful oily place and thence across the towering mountains of Detroit. There we dined with diamond and chrome sprayed death skulls. While we sparing ate, the huge skulls raced madly round the larded table and pleaded with us to kiss their lumbering creations and cozy coffins. Near at hand, sparkling by the light of a smoky sun, the Master Skull hosted whole squads of little flower girls in white and gave them pretty gifts of tiny cancer pills while he directed them away on paths towards frigidity and fear; all while the Master Skull hummed, “Adroit, Adroit, Adroit.” Leaving, at last, that gruesome hall, climbing over piles of cash and loot, we went out of their plastic and steel forest and, tiredly, continued on our way.
Trudging through thick sunlight we went on and on ‘til we came along the rims of Chicago’s mighty stone canyons, where, hardly glancing down into that shadowy world, we could see lumbering dinosaurs that ate the earth at a fearful rate. Queer they seemed, their gigantic jaws sucking up the planet while their feet were hardly troubled by the herds of innocent dreams which they trampled underfoot.
Passing strange it was to watch the crowded skies overhead and thereabout, skies filled with militarized eagles, and propaganda robots, all made by an electronic giant. These incredible machines combined to hurl wars, weather, czars, and kingdoms round the planet like so much confetti.
A long night later we came to another, darker place where a demonic Scorpion held the way, a watering hole of white houses, statues, and a people whose suckling habits had made of them ghoulish vampires; they preferred not blood and life so much as liberty and death. Its golden tail arched into the sky and seemed to obscure the very stars; that Goliath-like stinger could strike almost any place on the planet with out cause or warning. Despair dripped from its venomous stinger and the monster thing laughed with rogue gods which had been released from deep pits dug by the great old universities. Those gods had long since eaten nations entire, those gods kept score on loveless white sheets and even though each tally exceeded all other tallies, no tally sufficed except that they screamed in unison, “More! More! More!”
Overall, uberalles, the scorpion waved giant shark teeth filled pincers. In the left it held crushed and bloody Hope; in the right pincer squirmed the headless body of dying Truth. When the Scorpion opened its cancerous mouth, we saw its bloody lips infected with the putrid forms of crushed morals and rotted ethics, and worse, worse, worse, it chilled my soul to see the bleached bones of faulted orgasms lying there in countless millions. In the midst of that horrible scene sat pseudo religion singing Dark Age harmony along with omnipotent government. Between their happy harmonics, sung by the light of cadres of burning poets, it made me vomit to see how those two whored on the chained body of Education. I forced myself to look upon her and I saw the spittle oozing from her cracked lips, the bloody milk that dripped from her shredded breasts and fell like tears raining upon her wasted wormy womb. Maggots, thoughtless millions, fed upon her wounds and then took their leave bearing the ignorance with which they came. My ghastly Angel pulled me away from that scene and we continued.
Beyond, beyond we went, the ghastly Angel ever beckoning, rotting garments falling from its wretched body, always urging me on as we searched for the forbidden key. At last we came upon a swamp wherein the trees, dead and bleached bone white, reached hundreds of feet into the leaden lifeless sky. The still waters of that land rotted and the watery surface reflected nothing, nothing at all. Each and every bone white tree was topped by a timeless cross. Each cross bore the stapled body of a mutilated truth. To each little truth was sewn a silken banner, royal purple with a shimmering edge of golden thread. The banners emblazoned in identical legal grimaces, a sort of Latin, that decreed, “Don’t read, Don’t touch; don’t stand, don’t stop, don’t think.”
Deeper and deeper we plunged into that swamp ‘til the murky waters gave way to a foggy lies that chilled our limbs and obscured our way. Finally, we came upon an island constructed of the deaths of past and future heroes. Round and round its crumbling edge marched what passed for parents, parents without number, marching round and round. Half, at least were blind and the others would not see. They sang and chatted gaily as they marched. Periodically, en masse, they rushed into the swamp and seized rusting and defective mechanical grandmothers that the parents used, club like, to beat their own hapless offspring in lifeless submission which, thereby, assured a successful transmission of future mindlessness and servitude.
In the center of that mad island was a giant sarcophagus crafted of perished traditions, stone legislated customs, and gold. The sarcophagus bore a burnished plate inscribed, “Here lays the body of the Word of God.” Where the date should been there spun a comic clock which I little understood, but it was plain that the death of the Word had occurred and was occurring at every minute of every hour that had ever been. Beside that tomb stood the rotting body of a Prophet who could not die and looked ghostly, ghostly like old Wilhem Reich, “Here,” said he, “here lies the Word, here lies the Truth, they don’t want you to touch it, don’t touch it, don’t ever touch it.” In his hand lay a great key.
My ghastly Angel took the great key from the Prophet’s rotting hand, the key to access the monolithic sarcophagus, and as we moved away, the Prophet winced with pain as a peculiar creature pinched little chunks of flesh from his rotting body and stuffed the rotted meat into its fourowuncee mouth, “I got mine, I got mine,” it sang with glee, “I got mine, I got mine.”
While the creature worked to consume the substance of the Prophet, my fearsome Angel and I mounted to the lid of the sarcophagus and there, rising on steps constructed of the compressed and living bodies of Saints who screamed in torment as their minds and souls were being processed into a sort of sugary jell by a college of academicians and politicians. From that squirming mass, glass encased, came a mournful wail and it seemed to me a chant, “Let them touch it, let them read, let them think, let them touch it.” Painfully we advanced over those horrid twenty two steps, the Angel and I, until we arrived at the top and struggled to open the entry way which was blocked entirely by tortured bears whipped by half gurus and empty journalists. My Angel cast them down and they fell arguing among heaps of cash registers and curiously attractive rocks and other toys while the bears raced to escape the island. Using the Prophet’s great key, we unlocked the entry.
Where those poor bears had danced, there at once appeared seven beautiful globes of shimmering light and by their light, at last, we saw within the entry, a simple iron key, the forbidden key. We used it to open a hidden passage, and thus entered the sarcophagus. Looking in, it seemed a cellar, and deep it was, and dark. Carefully we wended the narrow steps moving ever towards a distant light. An hour or more, we wandered down, though some might count that hour a lifetime, and at last we passed from darkness into a sunny room.
In the center that room sat a giant of man with a soft curly beard and a merry laugh that bounded back like a sort of happy thunder from the very walls of the room. Most notable of all, deep behind each startling blue eye flashed sudden rays of light that seemed to touch and measure us. Each glance a complete assessment it seemed to us. We laughed to see cuddled all about the place jolly babies, lots and lots of laughing babies who sat on his lap and played in his beard. That giant, rather like an over sized Santa Claus, played on with the babies and we felt powerful energies emanating from them, like damped atomic fires. I was thunderstruck to see, coming to life, as though never dead, the corpse of Ethics, which the Angel had carried this long, long time and distance.
And the giant, without ceasing, spoke to the babies, continuously, saying to each and every one, to each individually and to all collectively, “Read, touch, reflect, reason, evaluate, think. Be free in your mind.”
At last the giant took note of us and reaching out he pluck a large stone from the wall of that chamber and, using his finger for a stylus, he wrote a message on the stone and then tossed it to us. The Angel caught the stone and we retired to the stairway and went wending our way to the top. When at last we had climbed the well and locked again the secret entry to the sarcophagus, the Angel drew me to the light of the seven globes and motioned for me to read the words graven in the stone.
Simple it was but it chilled me deep, for it read, “Teach not babies to forget that which they knew by nature long before they knew you or education.” And though I only read it, in my mind I heard those words like a distant angry thunder and I wondered, how long can men and women thrive and prosper in willful resistance to God?
There was date at the bottom of the message, it read, Jan 12, 1976, 1900 hours (7 P.M.) with the initials PTS just above the date.
There were some editorial marks and some word corrections which had been put here and there by Strongtoe, but they were illegible in the main. I have not, in this text, made any reference to them.
So this is, so to speak, my attempted delivery. Perhaps the reader is the recipient upon whom I yet wait.
Even as I prepare to post this, I can almost hear someone ask, more or less, “What does it mean?” To which I must now reply, in advance, “I don’t know. Does it mean something? Perhaps it means nothing. A dreamer’s dream of a dream. Please don’t ask me. If it has no meaning for you, I can give it no meaning for you.”
Copyright, Terry Turner, 2009
Several years ago an unusual fellow, a recluse of sorts, who lives back off the Canon Road came to call with a small painting to sell, as he occasionally had done before. The Canon road is an eastward extension of Kit Carson and runs from Taos and on up to Angel Fire and is also the Taos route to Eagle Nest. An amazing assortment of clever, creative folk live up in the Canon; but then an amazing number of clever creative people live all over Taos and New Mexico in general.
This fellow, Phineas, came by our gallery, the old Field’s Gallery on Kit Carson, to drop off one his rarely produced paintings --- a primitive as they say, a piece of one by sixteen inch pine on which he had carved a red bird about to eat a small red apple --- very primitive and very powerful, almost archetypal. The artist, writer, philosopher, recluse, Phineas T. Strongtoe, was stopping by also to give me a small stack of notebooks, the scholastic sort which comes with blank lined papers bound in a cardboard cover, “Someone will call for these in a day or two, just hand it to her will you?” I said I would hand them over when asked for. That was in the fall of 1999. I tucked notebooks away in my desk and time continued, as usual, to go by.
Suzi and I personally collected most of his work but one day I had the bird piece on display and sold it on a whim. Who knows why? I always wished that I had not sold it. At least I sold it to a nice lady; a resident of Taos, who seemed to appreciate the work and whose name, regretfully, at the moment I do not recall.
Lots more time went by and I did not think of Phineas or the notebooks.
Then in the summer of 2001 there were some forest fires in the Taos area, worrisome fires; even worse fires came in 2002, and in 2003 came what was generally called the Great Encebado Fire. It was a huge tree eating fire and it burning a little over a couple of miles from our gallery door. We were advised to be ready to evacuate at once --- you’ve no idea how that order feels when you are looking at a million dollars worth of art with no labor or transport available to move it. Most people who could leave the zone had already done so. The smoke settled over the town and Suzi and I were trying to breathe by using fans to blow air laden with smoke particles through wet sheets that we hoped would be a sort of air filter. It was dicey to say the least. During the last smoke filled week, with a thousand fire fighters that were still unable to beat the Encebado fire back, Suzi and I were overcome with a sort of wistfulness for the clean air and snows of Colorado. The exhausted fighters eventually, courageously prevailed but not without an incredible effort.
Which brings us back to Strongtoe’s notebooks; years had gone by and no one had called for the notebooks and Strongtoe had not returned to sell us any of his primitive artwork. Further, I had been unable to make any contact with the person Strongtoe had mentioned; one Sunday we drove down to Santa Fe only to get reports that person had gone, we were told, to the island of Bimini as part of a search team looking for a long lost treasure.
I passed the Strongtoe notebooks from my desk to my important papers file and they moved with us, in due course, to Colorado and here and there, thereafter. No word of Strongtoe, no word of any sort ever came.
At last I determined to do what I think is reasonable. I am publishing a passage, a few pages, from one notebook to “signal” Phineas and the other person that I still have these and that I can be contacted.
Have I read the notebooks? After more than a decade, what do you think? I have read every fascinating word.
Here then, is what I think of as the delivery from the journals of ever elusive Phineas Strongtoe. Here then are the words of Strongtoe in a passage titled, The Mechanical Grandmother and Other Tales
In dreaming deep, I found myself traveling in company with an awesome Angel who cradled the eyeless corpse of ethics as we searched for the Forbidden Key which, hopefully, might restore it to life.
Sometimes walking, sometimes flying, we went down an endless trail of lifeless schools and churches, churches and schools long dead, yet peopled to overflowing. Filled with crowds who sought the Word of God but instead were taught a litany hate hymns by the songs of hollow eyed teaches, hollow word preachers, deaf rabbis, and shadowy priests and professors whose reason flowed from agendas with no reference to science or reason. A gaggle of leaders and teachers who masturbated public guilt cubes and were trapped in huge glass bottles; bottles corked and red wax sealed with history that had long since forgotten how to smile having been many times rewritten to suit the passing treason. Passing those ghostly rows of churches and schools, busily recording what they lied, amazed, I watched, I witnessed, and I saw that they grew and expanded even though they had long since died.
On we went. Plunging through the darkness until at last we came upon a sea, oily black, whereon floated murky barques of misty pharaohs waiting, waiting for a czar. With smoky breath dripping perdition, my foul Angel said those pharaohs waited in vain because the czar remained beneath a great pyramid, fearful of the god gating prophet murderers who had captured Love and raped her to sire a new and terrible religion.
Throughout that infected sea and all around its shores stood cat-eyed high priests who shouted orders at a master mummy, a pharaoh monster that plunged through the reeds and struggled over the whispering sands in pursuit of the wife of Atlantis, she who built the great pyramids of the world in a single day with eleven little songs.
At length we passed out of that dreadful oily place and thence across the towering mountains of Detroit. There we dined with diamond and chrome sprayed death skulls. While we sparing ate, the huge skulls raced madly round the larded table and pleaded with us to kiss their lumbering creations and cozy coffins. Near at hand, sparkling by the light of a smoky sun, the Master Skull hosted whole squads of little flower girls in white and gave them pretty gifts of tiny cancer pills while he directed them away on paths towards frigidity and fear; all while the Master Skull hummed, “Adroit, Adroit, Adroit.” Leaving, at last, that gruesome hall, climbing over piles of cash and loot, we went out of their plastic and steel forest and, tiredly, continued on our way.
Trudging through thick sunlight we went on and on ‘til we came along the rims of Chicago’s mighty stone canyons, where, hardly glancing down into that shadowy world, we could see lumbering dinosaurs that ate the earth at a fearful rate. Queer they seemed, their gigantic jaws sucking up the planet while their feet were hardly troubled by the herds of innocent dreams which they trampled underfoot.
Passing strange it was to watch the crowded skies overhead and thereabout, skies filled with militarized eagles, and propaganda robots, all made by an electronic giant. These incredible machines combined to hurl wars, weather, czars, and kingdoms round the planet like so much confetti.
A long night later we came to another, darker place where a demonic Scorpion held the way, a watering hole of white houses, statues, and a people whose suckling habits had made of them ghoulish vampires; they preferred not blood and life so much as liberty and death. Its golden tail arched into the sky and seemed to obscure the very stars; that Goliath-like stinger could strike almost any place on the planet with out cause or warning. Despair dripped from its venomous stinger and the monster thing laughed with rogue gods which had been released from deep pits dug by the great old universities. Those gods had long since eaten nations entire, those gods kept score on loveless white sheets and even though each tally exceeded all other tallies, no tally sufficed except that they screamed in unison, “More! More! More!”
Overall, uberalles, the scorpion waved giant shark teeth filled pincers. In the left it held crushed and bloody Hope; in the right pincer squirmed the headless body of dying Truth. When the Scorpion opened its cancerous mouth, we saw its bloody lips infected with the putrid forms of crushed morals and rotted ethics, and worse, worse, worse, it chilled my soul to see the bleached bones of faulted orgasms lying there in countless millions. In the midst of that horrible scene sat pseudo religion singing Dark Age harmony along with omnipotent government. Between their happy harmonics, sung by the light of cadres of burning poets, it made me vomit to see how those two whored on the chained body of Education. I forced myself to look upon her and I saw the spittle oozing from her cracked lips, the bloody milk that dripped from her shredded breasts and fell like tears raining upon her wasted wormy womb. Maggots, thoughtless millions, fed upon her wounds and then took their leave bearing the ignorance with which they came. My ghastly Angel pulled me away from that scene and we continued.
Beyond, beyond we went, the ghastly Angel ever beckoning, rotting garments falling from its wretched body, always urging me on as we searched for the forbidden key. At last we came upon a swamp wherein the trees, dead and bleached bone white, reached hundreds of feet into the leaden lifeless sky. The still waters of that land rotted and the watery surface reflected nothing, nothing at all. Each and every bone white tree was topped by a timeless cross. Each cross bore the stapled body of a mutilated truth. To each little truth was sewn a silken banner, royal purple with a shimmering edge of golden thread. The banners emblazoned in identical legal grimaces, a sort of Latin, that decreed, “Don’t read, Don’t touch; don’t stand, don’t stop, don’t think.”
Deeper and deeper we plunged into that swamp ‘til the murky waters gave way to a foggy lies that chilled our limbs and obscured our way. Finally, we came upon an island constructed of the deaths of past and future heroes. Round and round its crumbling edge marched what passed for parents, parents without number, marching round and round. Half, at least were blind and the others would not see. They sang and chatted gaily as they marched. Periodically, en masse, they rushed into the swamp and seized rusting and defective mechanical grandmothers that the parents used, club like, to beat their own hapless offspring in lifeless submission which, thereby, assured a successful transmission of future mindlessness and servitude.
In the center of that mad island was a giant sarcophagus crafted of perished traditions, stone legislated customs, and gold. The sarcophagus bore a burnished plate inscribed, “Here lays the body of the Word of God.” Where the date should been there spun a comic clock which I little understood, but it was plain that the death of the Word had occurred and was occurring at every minute of every hour that had ever been. Beside that tomb stood the rotting body of a Prophet who could not die and looked ghostly, ghostly like old Wilhem Reich, “Here,” said he, “here lies the Word, here lies the Truth, they don’t want you to touch it, don’t touch it, don’t ever touch it.” In his hand lay a great key.
My ghastly Angel took the great key from the Prophet’s rotting hand, the key to access the monolithic sarcophagus, and as we moved away, the Prophet winced with pain as a peculiar creature pinched little chunks of flesh from his rotting body and stuffed the rotted meat into its fourowuncee mouth, “I got mine, I got mine,” it sang with glee, “I got mine, I got mine.”
While the creature worked to consume the substance of the Prophet, my fearsome Angel and I mounted to the lid of the sarcophagus and there, rising on steps constructed of the compressed and living bodies of Saints who screamed in torment as their minds and souls were being processed into a sort of sugary jell by a college of academicians and politicians. From that squirming mass, glass encased, came a mournful wail and it seemed to me a chant, “Let them touch it, let them read, let them think, let them touch it.” Painfully we advanced over those horrid twenty two steps, the Angel and I, until we arrived at the top and struggled to open the entry way which was blocked entirely by tortured bears whipped by half gurus and empty journalists. My Angel cast them down and they fell arguing among heaps of cash registers and curiously attractive rocks and other toys while the bears raced to escape the island. Using the Prophet’s great key, we unlocked the entry.
Where those poor bears had danced, there at once appeared seven beautiful globes of shimmering light and by their light, at last, we saw within the entry, a simple iron key, the forbidden key. We used it to open a hidden passage, and thus entered the sarcophagus. Looking in, it seemed a cellar, and deep it was, and dark. Carefully we wended the narrow steps moving ever towards a distant light. An hour or more, we wandered down, though some might count that hour a lifetime, and at last we passed from darkness into a sunny room.
In the center that room sat a giant of man with a soft curly beard and a merry laugh that bounded back like a sort of happy thunder from the very walls of the room. Most notable of all, deep behind each startling blue eye flashed sudden rays of light that seemed to touch and measure us. Each glance a complete assessment it seemed to us. We laughed to see cuddled all about the place jolly babies, lots and lots of laughing babies who sat on his lap and played in his beard. That giant, rather like an over sized Santa Claus, played on with the babies and we felt powerful energies emanating from them, like damped atomic fires. I was thunderstruck to see, coming to life, as though never dead, the corpse of Ethics, which the Angel had carried this long, long time and distance.
And the giant, without ceasing, spoke to the babies, continuously, saying to each and every one, to each individually and to all collectively, “Read, touch, reflect, reason, evaluate, think. Be free in your mind.”
At last the giant took note of us and reaching out he pluck a large stone from the wall of that chamber and, using his finger for a stylus, he wrote a message on the stone and then tossed it to us. The Angel caught the stone and we retired to the stairway and went wending our way to the top. When at last we had climbed the well and locked again the secret entry to the sarcophagus, the Angel drew me to the light of the seven globes and motioned for me to read the words graven in the stone.
Simple it was but it chilled me deep, for it read, “Teach not babies to forget that which they knew by nature long before they knew you or education.” And though I only read it, in my mind I heard those words like a distant angry thunder and I wondered, how long can men and women thrive and prosper in willful resistance to God?
There was date at the bottom of the message, it read, Jan 12, 1976, 1900 hours (7 P.M.) with the initials PTS just above the date.
There were some editorial marks and some word corrections which had been put here and there by Strongtoe, but they were illegible in the main. I have not, in this text, made any reference to them.
So this is, so to speak, my attempted delivery. Perhaps the reader is the recipient upon whom I yet wait.
Even as I prepare to post this, I can almost hear someone ask, more or less, “What does it mean?” To which I must now reply, in advance, “I don’t know. Does it mean something? Perhaps it means nothing. A dreamer’s dream of a dream. Please don’t ask me. If it has no meaning for you, I can give it no meaning for you.”
Photo Credit: The photo is of Clair, our clairvoyant hippo, a true glass flower aficionado. Clair was a gift from my sister to Suzi. The hippo is at home in our collection of blown glass roses.
Photo by Suzi with an old Minolta Dimage X.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Why Get Ready? Be Ready!!!
Copyright, Terry Turner, 2009
Why Get Ready for Emergencies? Because, if you aren't ready first, you cannot get ready. Make up your mind to be ready. Know where your go-bag is and have the right stuff in it.
The following list is just a list; a scratch pad. It will give you a way to begin to think about what you have and what you might need in an emergency. It will not all fit in a go-bag which is ready for a grab and run scene whereas having 25 pounds of pinto beans is something you can store around your house. There are many levels of preparedness and you have to develop a plan that suits your needs.
There are many ways to improve on this list and I welcome anyone to give me further suggestions and remarks.
I have found that many things need to be organized to meet any crisis and one thing I want to mention that has helped me is the plain old fly fishing vest. It has a lot of pockets and those pockets can hold a wide array of small objects. I use a one vest and one soft go-bag as my absolute emergency must have kit. It has everything in it from iodine-monkey blood, upholstery needles and carpet thread to potassium iodide in the event of an atomic-attack (if you don’t know what this is for, you need to, especially if you have kids).
The following list also corresponds, roughly, to things that may be first to disappear in a crisis of any sort.This list does not put a great deal of emphasis on food and water which must be prime considerations, but it does list things that may be hard to get in the event of a hurricane or anything that disrupts traffic and delivery systems.
Let me say that few people have the money or a spare cabin in the woods with which to purchase and store everything. Getting as ready as one might like to be seems a daunting task but just start small, according to your ability, and build up your readiness supplies. If you put aside a few gallons of water, a few cans of mackerel, and a good flashlight, you will, with that small beginning, probably be better prepared than most. Just begin and then, in the event of a crisis, you can help yourself and others. In a crisis, the responders need all the help they can get and if you can take care of yourself or your family, you will take a big load off the first responders.
For short term preparations, I have found the following link helpful:
http://www.hmscrown.com/life_tools/emergency_be_prepared.html
And, for long term survival type information, I recommend the following links for information regarding supplies, tools, equipment, etc. I also note that the original form of the list below may have been shown or originated at the following link:
http://www.millennium-ark.net/
For related and very interesting information I suggest the George Ure site
http://urbansurvival.com/ George also offers an invaluable little book, Live on Ten Thousand A Year. The book will stimulate your thinking and provide some great information.
1. Gasoline and other generators. For the most part they are expensive, heavy, expensive to operate, and of course, fuel dependent; gas acquisition and gas storage are possible dangers; they are also noisy, have to be maintained, and clearly are an obvious target for thieves of every class. In regard to this type of power, it will be advisable to check out solar or wind charging and similar devices.
2. Water filters/purifiers (and information on how to clean up water with bleach, iodine, etc.—you cannot be too informed about water). In a pinch, primitive is better than nothing. Suzi and I use a Berkey Water Filter system, but there are many kinds and of course combinations may be indicated.
3. Portable toilets – and consider camping stool toilets which will require lots of plastic bags for sanitation.
4. Seasoned firewood, or at least firewood and don’t forget saws and axes and other firewood processing tools.
As I have had a lot of experience chopping firewood, I strongly advise having at least two axes, one single head, one double head, and a couple of sizes of wedges for splitting large logs and such. When Suzi and I were living in Colorado with four foot snows, I split more wood with a six pound sledge hammer and wedge than I have with an axe. If you have the luxury of a shed or tarps to keep wood dry you will grow to appreciate it, if you don’t you can make a field roof with sticks, branches, leaves and grass over the wood pile to help keep it dry… this is rather essential in snow country when the weather will freeze all the wood into one solid clump.
5. Lamp oil, wicks, lamps (there are various ways to make lamps though the types of fuel are very limited; learn all you can; stick with clear oil, but get any oil you can.
6. Coleman or similar fuels – get all and stock all that you can; for your purposes and for trade.
7. Guns, ammunition --- any ammo, even if you can’t use it ammo will be a big barter item. Also pepper spray, knives, clubs, bats and high quality slingshots; quality air pistols and rifles; and dare I say quality bows and arrows
8. Hand operated-can openers and hand egg beaters, whisks, large stainless steel spoons, forks, turners, and tools that make large batch cooking easier --- you can also use the same tools for small batch cookery. Knife sharpeners such as stones, files, etc. are essential. Most people will be well advised to be sure to have at least one heavy duty large file and one smaller fine file for various purposes.
9. Honey/syrups/white, brown sugars; I would avoid artificial sweeteners except for trade goods or for dietary reasons.
10. Rice; Beans & Wheat
11. Vegetable oils and lards for cooking, baking and efficiency in food preparation.
12. Charcoal and charcoal lighter fluid; Zippo or similar lighters (the cigarette type) and lighter fluid. I have in a pinch used alcohol to fill a Zippo lighter.
13. Water containers --- hard clear plastic is best, you can’t have too many.
14. Mini Heater head for heating rooms with propane. There are a variety of possibilities here so think it through but zero degree, or better, sleeping bags are no mistake when thinking about staying warm. Propane cylinders
15. Grain Grinder (Non-electric); if you have lots of space and money, hand coffee mills, meat grinders, etc.
16. Propane Cylinders, butane, and all compressed type gas supplies.
17. Survival library (can be printed pages, books, etc.) If you don’t have experience or a clue, you need to do some reading NOW.
18. Spare lamp mantles: Aladdin, Coleman, etc.
19. Baby Supplies: mosquito hood/cover, thermometer, diapers; formula; ointments; aspirin, etc.
20. Washboards, tubs, mop bucket w/wringer to help with laundry… this could be priceless.
21. Cook stoves (propane, Coleman and kerosene, etc.). I personally urge all my (Terry’s) readers to learn (PRACTICE) cooking outside on a wood fire --- learning to make bread or biscuits in an iron Dutch oven is, I believe essential training---and if you do a good slow chicken stew you’ll have some great meal experiences and you won’t feel totally lost when you have to produce a meal. Obviously, you may need to practice how to build a camp fire, maintain it, and control it.
22. Vitamins --- do the best you can but I would avoid One-A-Day or Centrum, which, in my opinion, are among the worst for bio-available nutritional value.
23. Propane Cylinder Handle-Holder---small canister use is dangerous without this item.
24. Hygiene for men, women, and children---hair care, skin care, products, razors, combs, toothbrushes, Tampax, etc. Keep yourself cleaned up or your morale will suffer. The best all purpose, instant results, a little goes a long way, backed by a 110% money back guarantee of satisfaction is Royal Gold Serum from HMS Crown.
25. Thermal underwear (tops and bottoms; socks, outer jackets, etc.)
26. Bow saws, axes and hatchets and wedges, files, stones, sharpening oil, hammers, sledge hammers, and similar tools. Good small and large shovels, well sharpened are very useful.
27. Aluminum foils, regular and heavy duty, for cooking, food preservation, and barter. Strictly speaking I would avoid cooking in aluminum for health reasons and always try to do your cooking in iron pans and pots.
28. Gasoline containers (plastic or metal). Gasoline is dangerous so be sure you know how to store it and know about stabilizing it; gas will deteriorate.
29. Garbage bags, plastic bags, paper bags of every description, as many as possible. Save you plastic or paper grocery bags. Important for food preservation, and, in connection with a field toilet, for taking a dump and keeping the area clean.
30. Toilet paper, Kleenex, paper towel, etc. Let’s hope we don’t get down to leaves and grass.
31. Milk - powdered and condensed, dry and canned, (shake liquid every 2 or 3 months.)
32. Garden seeds (non-hybrid); if you don’t know how to grow something, practice… plant yourself a little, even tiny, victory garden, even if it only has a plant or two… learn how to care for a plant.
33. Clothes pins/line/hangers and clips of every sort. Clothes can be dried on bushes, but you will prefer a line and pins. When thinking of pins consider a supply of safety pins, straight pins, and needles for use and trade.
34. Repair kits --- i.e. whether it is your generator or your Coleman stove, there are repair kits and suggested maintenance items… you will need them and the instructions
35. Tuna fish (in oil); personally I think mackerel is a better choice. Beware of broth added products which will make you weaker rather than stronger.
36. Fire extinguishers, large boxes of ordinary baking soda in every room, or, at least, pails of water holding old towels soaked, covered in water and ready to go.
37. First aid kits of every description….you can’t be oversupplied here. The government is driving plain old iodine off the market so, if your pharmacy or grocer still offers it, stock up on it. Iodine is cheap and effective. Some pharmacies will still order it for you.
38. Batteries (all sizes ... check for distant expiration dates). Try to get solar and wind up
39. Garlic, spices and vinegar, baking supplies and spices for medicine---cayenne pepper, ginger, turmeric-curcumin. Fresh garlic uncooked and chewed raw is best for medical use. Garlic remains a fantastic natural antibiotic. A couple of good health books that tell you how to use foods and spices would be great. I also suggest Adelle Davis’ book, Let’s Get Well, which explains the use of vitamins.
40. Dogs and cats need to eat…. I don’t have any pets so I really can’t comment on that. As a child in my cotton picking era, I know that our dogs survived on table scraps, grease gravy and the occasional biscuit or cornbread.
41. Flour, yeast and salt. Suzi and I really suggest that you learn to make and use sourdough which eliminates the need for yeast and makes a much healthier product. Salt and yeast would probably make good trade items.
Get some small baggies so you could dish out salt in one ounce trade units.
42. Matches "Strike Anywhere" preferred. Boxed, wooden matches are essential if only for trade goods.
43. Writing paper/pads/pencils/solar calculators
44. Insulated ice chests these are good for storage, keeping varmits out and to help prevent freezing in the winter.
45. Very good gloves and very good work boots, strong belts, Levis, overalls, and durable shirts.
46. Flashlights, light Sticks and torches, candles, lamps. Etc.
47. Journals, diaries and scrapbooks to organize your thoughts, conserve events, etc.
48. Garbage cans plastic, these will work for storing water; if they have wheels they are a type of transport similar to a wheelbarrow (which would no doubt be very useful for moving wood and heavy things).
49. Men's Hygiene: essentially the same as item 24 above--- men and women may have some special needs and you alone know what that would be. For example, I need a pedicure razor due an old foot injury that requires trimming every month or so.
50. Cast iron cookware---nothing can replace cast iron, after that enamel ware, and last try heavy duty aluminum (I do mean heavy) and . I would advise against the non-stick type of cookware---under all conditions. It may be dangerous to your health; and it will not last; and you will wind up eating a lot Teflon as it wears off the pans.. It is important to have enough cookware. I think you should try to have covers for all pots and all pans. If you are not comfortable using iron, please consider learning how to use it. One set of iron lasts for lifetime(s). I am using some iron that belong to my grandmother; my mother tried to wear it out; and I have done my best but it is still as new as serviceable as when it was new. Iron wear is definitely not part of our new disposable value system… it is an enduring investment. I suggest American iron, not imported iron; not the new specialty light weight iron.
51. Fishing supplies and all the bell and whistle tools that go with fishing.
52. Mosquito coils, repellent sprays, and creams. Some people have luck taking riboflavin (Vitamin B2) as a repellent, and I know you will have some luck with small amounts of citronella, geranium oil, and wintergreen. I have also had moderate success spraying orange oil over my clothes.
53. Duct tape, wire, rope, cord, twine, rubber bands, bungee cords, string, and all sorts of glue and similar tapes. Duct tape can used and has been used to repair many things including clothes, tents, windows, shoes, etc.
54. Tarps, plastic sheeting—the stronger, thicker the better, anchors, spikes, and stakes, nails from largest to smallest.
55. Candles and methodology regarding candles. For example you can make a candle of sorts by rolling a sheet of paper into a tight tube, soaking it grease or kerosene and get a bit of a credible light.
56. Laundry detergent, dry and liquid, and soaps of every sort. You’ll need more soap than ever before.
57. Backpacks, duffel bags, go-bags, travel bags, etc. Packs and bags of all types, soft will probably give you the best service.
58. Garden tools and supplies---don’t forget NON-HYBRID seeds.
59. Scissors, fabrics and sewing supplies---good scissors are likely to be critical. Along with sewing supplies I strongly suggest upholstery needles, straight and curved, and upholstery and carpet grade thread--- all heavy duty thread for repair work.
60. Canned fruits, veggies, soups, stews, etc.
61. Bleach plain, NOT scented: 4 to 6% sodium hypochlorite.
62. Canning supplies (Jars/lids/wax) AND canning instructions.
63. Knives of every description and sharpening tools: files, stones, steel both for your own service and for trade.
You can’t have too many tools. I routinely buy butcher knives at garage sales.
64. Bicycles and related tires/tubes/pumps/chains, etc. Even if you don’t ride a bike some of these things may be good to trade for goods or services.
65. High quality sleeping bags and blankets, pillows, mats, frames to stay off the ground, lawn loungers, etc.
66. Carbon Monoxide Alarm (battery powered)
67. Books, board games, cards, magazines. How to books would be a good choice. Don’t forget some health reference books. How to, cooking books, health books and such will be very important but man can not live by how to alone. Good literature will be essential. Suzi and I very like the amazing poetry of Martina Newberry http://martina.rollwiththechanges.org/
And we enjoy the work and ideas of Marty Kleva
http://nmwildwriter.blogspot.com/ A little collection of Carl Jung or whatever your favorite topic is will be useful.
68. d-Con Rat poison, MOUSE PRUFE II, Roach Killer, and similar.
69. Mousetraps, Ant traps and cockroach magnets
70. Paper, plastic plates/cups/utensils---you can’t have too many if you dishwasher doesn’t work or if you no longer have access to one.
71. Baby Wipes, oils, waterless and Anti-bacterial soap (saves a lot of water)
72. Rain gear, rubberized boots, etc. Good rain gloves are important.
73. Shaving supplies (razors, blades, and creams, talc, after shave)
74. Hand pumps and siphons (for water and for fuels), extra plastic tubing in assorted sizes. Just a few feet of extra tubing could make a difference.
75. Soy sauce, vinegar, bouillons/gravy/soup base
76. Reading glasses, magnifying glasses, binoculars
77. Chocolate, cocoa, tang, punch (water enhancers), teas.
78. "Survival-in-a-Can" and Survival knife with compass, fishing gear, etc.
79. Woolen clothing, scarves, ear-muffs; mittens; socks, overcoats.
80. Boy Scout Handbook (also, Leader's Catalog). There is probably a scout store somewhere near you.
81. Roll-on Window Insulation Kit, plastic sheets, acrylic sheets, tarps, etc.
82. Graham crackers, saltines, pretzels, trail mixes/jerky --- instructions on how to jerk meat.
83. Popcorn, peanut butter, nuts
84. Socks, Underwear, T-shirts, etc. (season appropriate and extras)
85. Lumber (all types) plywood, 2x4, 4x4, etc.
86. Wagons, carts, wheelbarrows for transport to and from flea markets and barter groups.
87. Cots and Inflatable Mattresses (for extra guests)
88. Gloves: Work/warming/gardening, etc. You may want to check gloves for types. I have to have leather gloves, then I like the cotton type dipped in some kind rubberized material that makes a great weed pulling glove. I like rubberized or plasticized gloves for working in the rain.
I can tell you one thing about gloves in the winter, and especially at night in Colorado and similar places, or anywhere the freezing "norther" blows: you can't afford to have wet hands if you are trying to work outside. You must do what it takes to keep your hands dry or you'll freeze your fingers in a heart beat. I have seen north winds in Wichita Falls, Texas that would literally freeze the legendary nautical brass balls and I have tried to chop wood at forty below in Colorado... my advice is to split and harvest your wood in the bright sunlight, stay dry and warm at night. You can always make a little kindling sitting by your fire while you enjoy a warm mug of tea or chocolate. And, by the way, I should say thanks to John Rau, my bookseller, who taught me every thing I know about chopping wood. John has a great, huge book store and is a good source for obscure books and he and Alex have thousands of used books of every description:
Why Get Ready for Emergencies? Because, if you aren't ready first, you cannot get ready. Make up your mind to be ready. Know where your go-bag is and have the right stuff in it.
The following list is just a list; a scratch pad. It will give you a way to begin to think about what you have and what you might need in an emergency. It will not all fit in a go-bag which is ready for a grab and run scene whereas having 25 pounds of pinto beans is something you can store around your house. There are many levels of preparedness and you have to develop a plan that suits your needs.
There are many ways to improve on this list and I welcome anyone to give me further suggestions and remarks.
I have found that many things need to be organized to meet any crisis and one thing I want to mention that has helped me is the plain old fly fishing vest. It has a lot of pockets and those pockets can hold a wide array of small objects. I use a one vest and one soft go-bag as my absolute emergency must have kit. It has everything in it from iodine-monkey blood, upholstery needles and carpet thread to potassium iodide in the event of an atomic-attack (if you don’t know what this is for, you need to, especially if you have kids).
The following list also corresponds, roughly, to things that may be first to disappear in a crisis of any sort.This list does not put a great deal of emphasis on food and water which must be prime considerations, but it does list things that may be hard to get in the event of a hurricane or anything that disrupts traffic and delivery systems.
Let me say that few people have the money or a spare cabin in the woods with which to purchase and store everything. Getting as ready as one might like to be seems a daunting task but just start small, according to your ability, and build up your readiness supplies. If you put aside a few gallons of water, a few cans of mackerel, and a good flashlight, you will, with that small beginning, probably be better prepared than most. Just begin and then, in the event of a crisis, you can help yourself and others. In a crisis, the responders need all the help they can get and if you can take care of yourself or your family, you will take a big load off the first responders.
For short term preparations, I have found the following link helpful:
http://www.hmscrown.com/life_tools/emergency_be_prepared.html
And, for long term survival type information, I recommend the following links for information regarding supplies, tools, equipment, etc. I also note that the original form of the list below may have been shown or originated at the following link:
http://www.millennium-ark.net/
For related and very interesting information I suggest the George Ure site
http://urbansurvival.com/ George also offers an invaluable little book, Live on Ten Thousand A Year. The book will stimulate your thinking and provide some great information.
1. Gasoline and other generators. For the most part they are expensive, heavy, expensive to operate, and of course, fuel dependent; gas acquisition and gas storage are possible dangers; they are also noisy, have to be maintained, and clearly are an obvious target for thieves of every class. In regard to this type of power, it will be advisable to check out solar or wind charging and similar devices.
2. Water filters/purifiers (and information on how to clean up water with bleach, iodine, etc.—you cannot be too informed about water). In a pinch, primitive is better than nothing. Suzi and I use a Berkey Water Filter system, but there are many kinds and of course combinations may be indicated.
3. Portable toilets – and consider camping stool toilets which will require lots of plastic bags for sanitation.
4. Seasoned firewood, or at least firewood and don’t forget saws and axes and other firewood processing tools.
As I have had a lot of experience chopping firewood, I strongly advise having at least two axes, one single head, one double head, and a couple of sizes of wedges for splitting large logs and such. When Suzi and I were living in Colorado with four foot snows, I split more wood with a six pound sledge hammer and wedge than I have with an axe. If you have the luxury of a shed or tarps to keep wood dry you will grow to appreciate it, if you don’t you can make a field roof with sticks, branches, leaves and grass over the wood pile to help keep it dry… this is rather essential in snow country when the weather will freeze all the wood into one solid clump.
5. Lamp oil, wicks, lamps (there are various ways to make lamps though the types of fuel are very limited; learn all you can; stick with clear oil, but get any oil you can.
6. Coleman or similar fuels – get all and stock all that you can; for your purposes and for trade.
7. Guns, ammunition --- any ammo, even if you can’t use it ammo will be a big barter item. Also pepper spray, knives, clubs, bats and high quality slingshots; quality air pistols and rifles; and dare I say quality bows and arrows
8. Hand operated-can openers and hand egg beaters, whisks, large stainless steel spoons, forks, turners, and tools that make large batch cooking easier --- you can also use the same tools for small batch cookery. Knife sharpeners such as stones, files, etc. are essential. Most people will be well advised to be sure to have at least one heavy duty large file and one smaller fine file for various purposes.
9. Honey/syrups/white, brown sugars; I would avoid artificial sweeteners except for trade goods or for dietary reasons.
10. Rice; Beans & Wheat
11. Vegetable oils and lards for cooking, baking and efficiency in food preparation.
12. Charcoal and charcoal lighter fluid; Zippo or similar lighters (the cigarette type) and lighter fluid. I have in a pinch used alcohol to fill a Zippo lighter.
13. Water containers --- hard clear plastic is best, you can’t have too many.
14. Mini Heater head for heating rooms with propane. There are a variety of possibilities here so think it through but zero degree, or better, sleeping bags are no mistake when thinking about staying warm. Propane cylinders
15. Grain Grinder (Non-electric); if you have lots of space and money, hand coffee mills, meat grinders, etc.
16. Propane Cylinders, butane, and all compressed type gas supplies.
17. Survival library (can be printed pages, books, etc.) If you don’t have experience or a clue, you need to do some reading NOW.
18. Spare lamp mantles: Aladdin, Coleman, etc.
19. Baby Supplies: mosquito hood/cover, thermometer, diapers; formula; ointments; aspirin, etc.
20. Washboards, tubs, mop bucket w/wringer to help with laundry… this could be priceless.
21. Cook stoves (propane, Coleman and kerosene, etc.). I personally urge all my (Terry’s) readers to learn (PRACTICE) cooking outside on a wood fire --- learning to make bread or biscuits in an iron Dutch oven is, I believe essential training---and if you do a good slow chicken stew you’ll have some great meal experiences and you won’t feel totally lost when you have to produce a meal. Obviously, you may need to practice how to build a camp fire, maintain it, and control it.
22. Vitamins --- do the best you can but I would avoid One-A-Day or Centrum, which, in my opinion, are among the worst for bio-available nutritional value.
23. Propane Cylinder Handle-Holder---small canister use is dangerous without this item.
24. Hygiene for men, women, and children---hair care, skin care, products, razors, combs, toothbrushes, Tampax, etc. Keep yourself cleaned up or your morale will suffer. The best all purpose, instant results, a little goes a long way, backed by a 110% money back guarantee of satisfaction is Royal Gold Serum from HMS Crown.
25. Thermal underwear (tops and bottoms; socks, outer jackets, etc.)
26. Bow saws, axes and hatchets and wedges, files, stones, sharpening oil, hammers, sledge hammers, and similar tools. Good small and large shovels, well sharpened are very useful.
27. Aluminum foils, regular and heavy duty, for cooking, food preservation, and barter. Strictly speaking I would avoid cooking in aluminum for health reasons and always try to do your cooking in iron pans and pots.
28. Gasoline containers (plastic or metal). Gasoline is dangerous so be sure you know how to store it and know about stabilizing it; gas will deteriorate.
29. Garbage bags, plastic bags, paper bags of every description, as many as possible. Save you plastic or paper grocery bags. Important for food preservation, and, in connection with a field toilet, for taking a dump and keeping the area clean.
30. Toilet paper, Kleenex, paper towel, etc. Let’s hope we don’t get down to leaves and grass.
31. Milk - powdered and condensed, dry and canned, (shake liquid every 2 or 3 months.)
32. Garden seeds (non-hybrid); if you don’t know how to grow something, practice… plant yourself a little, even tiny, victory garden, even if it only has a plant or two… learn how to care for a plant.
33. Clothes pins/line/hangers and clips of every sort. Clothes can be dried on bushes, but you will prefer a line and pins. When thinking of pins consider a supply of safety pins, straight pins, and needles for use and trade.
34. Repair kits --- i.e. whether it is your generator or your Coleman stove, there are repair kits and suggested maintenance items… you will need them and the instructions
35. Tuna fish (in oil); personally I think mackerel is a better choice. Beware of broth added products which will make you weaker rather than stronger.
36. Fire extinguishers, large boxes of ordinary baking soda in every room, or, at least, pails of water holding old towels soaked, covered in water and ready to go.
37. First aid kits of every description….you can’t be oversupplied here. The government is driving plain old iodine off the market so, if your pharmacy or grocer still offers it, stock up on it. Iodine is cheap and effective. Some pharmacies will still order it for you.
38. Batteries (all sizes ... check for distant expiration dates). Try to get solar and wind up
39. Garlic, spices and vinegar, baking supplies and spices for medicine---cayenne pepper, ginger, turmeric-curcumin. Fresh garlic uncooked and chewed raw is best for medical use. Garlic remains a fantastic natural antibiotic. A couple of good health books that tell you how to use foods and spices would be great. I also suggest Adelle Davis’ book, Let’s Get Well, which explains the use of vitamins.
40. Dogs and cats need to eat…. I don’t have any pets so I really can’t comment on that. As a child in my cotton picking era, I know that our dogs survived on table scraps, grease gravy and the occasional biscuit or cornbread.
41. Flour, yeast and salt. Suzi and I really suggest that you learn to make and use sourdough which eliminates the need for yeast and makes a much healthier product. Salt and yeast would probably make good trade items.
Get some small baggies so you could dish out salt in one ounce trade units.
42. Matches "Strike Anywhere" preferred. Boxed, wooden matches are essential if only for trade goods.
43. Writing paper/pads/pencils/solar calculators
44. Insulated ice chests these are good for storage, keeping varmits out and to help prevent freezing in the winter.
45. Very good gloves and very good work boots, strong belts, Levis, overalls, and durable shirts.
46. Flashlights, light Sticks and torches, candles, lamps. Etc.
47. Journals, diaries and scrapbooks to organize your thoughts, conserve events, etc.
48. Garbage cans plastic, these will work for storing water; if they have wheels they are a type of transport similar to a wheelbarrow (which would no doubt be very useful for moving wood and heavy things).
49. Men's Hygiene: essentially the same as item 24 above--- men and women may have some special needs and you alone know what that would be. For example, I need a pedicure razor due an old foot injury that requires trimming every month or so.
50. Cast iron cookware---nothing can replace cast iron, after that enamel ware, and last try heavy duty aluminum (I do mean heavy) and . I would advise against the non-stick type of cookware---under all conditions. It may be dangerous to your health; and it will not last; and you will wind up eating a lot Teflon as it wears off the pans.. It is important to have enough cookware. I think you should try to have covers for all pots and all pans. If you are not comfortable using iron, please consider learning how to use it. One set of iron lasts for lifetime(s). I am using some iron that belong to my grandmother; my mother tried to wear it out; and I have done my best but it is still as new as serviceable as when it was new. Iron wear is definitely not part of our new disposable value system… it is an enduring investment. I suggest American iron, not imported iron; not the new specialty light weight iron.
51. Fishing supplies and all the bell and whistle tools that go with fishing.
52. Mosquito coils, repellent sprays, and creams. Some people have luck taking riboflavin (Vitamin B2) as a repellent, and I know you will have some luck with small amounts of citronella, geranium oil, and wintergreen. I have also had moderate success spraying orange oil over my clothes.
53. Duct tape, wire, rope, cord, twine, rubber bands, bungee cords, string, and all sorts of glue and similar tapes. Duct tape can used and has been used to repair many things including clothes, tents, windows, shoes, etc.
54. Tarps, plastic sheeting—the stronger, thicker the better, anchors, spikes, and stakes, nails from largest to smallest.
55. Candles and methodology regarding candles. For example you can make a candle of sorts by rolling a sheet of paper into a tight tube, soaking it grease or kerosene and get a bit of a credible light.
56. Laundry detergent, dry and liquid, and soaps of every sort. You’ll need more soap than ever before.
57. Backpacks, duffel bags, go-bags, travel bags, etc. Packs and bags of all types, soft will probably give you the best service.
58. Garden tools and supplies---don’t forget NON-HYBRID seeds.
59. Scissors, fabrics and sewing supplies---good scissors are likely to be critical. Along with sewing supplies I strongly suggest upholstery needles, straight and curved, and upholstery and carpet grade thread--- all heavy duty thread for repair work.
60. Canned fruits, veggies, soups, stews, etc.
61. Bleach plain, NOT scented: 4 to 6% sodium hypochlorite.
62. Canning supplies (Jars/lids/wax) AND canning instructions.
63. Knives of every description and sharpening tools: files, stones, steel both for your own service and for trade.
You can’t have too many tools. I routinely buy butcher knives at garage sales.
64. Bicycles and related tires/tubes/pumps/chains, etc. Even if you don’t ride a bike some of these things may be good to trade for goods or services.
65. High quality sleeping bags and blankets, pillows, mats, frames to stay off the ground, lawn loungers, etc.
66. Carbon Monoxide Alarm (battery powered)
67. Books, board games, cards, magazines. How to books would be a good choice. Don’t forget some health reference books. How to, cooking books, health books and such will be very important but man can not live by how to alone. Good literature will be essential. Suzi and I very like the amazing poetry of Martina Newberry http://martina.rollwiththechanges.org/
And we enjoy the work and ideas of Marty Kleva
http://nmwildwriter.blogspot.com/ A little collection of Carl Jung or whatever your favorite topic is will be useful.
68. d-Con Rat poison, MOUSE PRUFE II, Roach Killer, and similar.
69. Mousetraps, Ant traps and cockroach magnets
70. Paper, plastic plates/cups/utensils---you can’t have too many if you dishwasher doesn’t work or if you no longer have access to one.
71. Baby Wipes, oils, waterless and Anti-bacterial soap (saves a lot of water)
72. Rain gear, rubberized boots, etc. Good rain gloves are important.
73. Shaving supplies (razors, blades, and creams, talc, after shave)
74. Hand pumps and siphons (for water and for fuels), extra plastic tubing in assorted sizes. Just a few feet of extra tubing could make a difference.
75. Soy sauce, vinegar, bouillons/gravy/soup base
76. Reading glasses, magnifying glasses, binoculars
77. Chocolate, cocoa, tang, punch (water enhancers), teas.
78. "Survival-in-a-Can" and Survival knife with compass, fishing gear, etc.
79. Woolen clothing, scarves, ear-muffs; mittens; socks, overcoats.
80. Boy Scout Handbook (also, Leader's Catalog). There is probably a scout store somewhere near you.
81. Roll-on Window Insulation Kit, plastic sheets, acrylic sheets, tarps, etc.
82. Graham crackers, saltines, pretzels, trail mixes/jerky --- instructions on how to jerk meat.
83. Popcorn, peanut butter, nuts
84. Socks, Underwear, T-shirts, etc. (season appropriate and extras)
85. Lumber (all types) plywood, 2x4, 4x4, etc.
86. Wagons, carts, wheelbarrows for transport to and from flea markets and barter groups.
87. Cots and Inflatable Mattresses (for extra guests)
88. Gloves: Work/warming/gardening, etc. You may want to check gloves for types. I have to have leather gloves, then I like the cotton type dipped in some kind rubberized material that makes a great weed pulling glove. I like rubberized or plasticized gloves for working in the rain.
I can tell you one thing about gloves in the winter, and especially at night in Colorado and similar places, or anywhere the freezing "norther" blows: you can't afford to have wet hands if you are trying to work outside. You must do what it takes to keep your hands dry or you'll freeze your fingers in a heart beat. I have seen north winds in Wichita Falls, Texas that would literally freeze the legendary nautical brass balls and I have tried to chop wood at forty below in Colorado... my advice is to split and harvest your wood in the bright sunlight, stay dry and warm at night. You can always make a little kindling sitting by your fire while you enjoy a warm mug of tea or chocolate. And, by the way, I should say thanks to John Rau, my bookseller, who taught me every thing I know about chopping wood. John has a great, huge book store and is a good source for obscure books and he and Alex have thousands of used books of every description:
89. Lantern Hangers, various S hooks, and rods that can be made to hang various things of various weights.
90. Screen Patches, glue, nails, screws, nuts and bolts
91. Teas, coffees, chocolates --- personal use and barter
92. Coffee and coffee substitutes --- personal use and barter
93. Cigarettes and tobacco for barter
94. Wine, liquors (for bribes, medicinal, etc.)
95. Paraffin wax
96. Glue, nails, nuts, bolts, screws, fasteners of all types, etc.
97. Chewing gum/candies --- personal use and barter
98. Atomizers (for cooling/bathing) --- a good collection of bottles and sprayers that will mist or spray will be very useful.
99. Sturdy hats and large cotton neckerchiefs
100. Goats, rabbits, and chickens may be worth considering in the urban survival scene.
This list is not original with me… I got it somewhere in the Y2K era; I think from Stan Deyo in a book or email or from a website--- I regret that I am not sure of the exact original source. Lists of this type are common and I have made extensive modifications to "my" list, above.
We do not sell any product or any information or any subscription in connection with this list, no emergency supplies, no vitamins, etc.
My personal feeling is that as we approach the winter of 2009, good preparations will be increasingly important for all of us.
Be prepared, you’ll never regret it.
Be prepared, if not for yourself, for your neighbors and for your children.
Terry
Photo credit. The Great Encebado Fire, Taos New Mexico, 2003, near our gallery on Kit Carson Road. I think Susan Kregel Turner took the photo---though I am not sure. The raged for days, we managed to breathe by using fans to force air through wet sheets. After years of previous fires we began long for the green trees and longer snow season in Colorado; ultimately we returned to Ridgway, near Telluride, where we daily had coffee with Red Mountain looking down on our patio. More fire photos by Taos artist, Kevin McDermott http://www.hmscrown.com/fine_art/McDermott/Taos_Fire.html
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