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  • I know this is probably a dumb question but how do you start the generator if the power is out.

    We are smack dab in the middle of the city. A few blocks in any direction would get us to food and lots of it. We have a fire pit in the back yard and gas fireplaces. At this house we have a regular bath tub and a very large whirlpool type one in the master bath. I don't worry about looters we are armed. We most likely couldn't get to the weapons in the safe if we are surprised by an intruder right now, but we would not have them in the safe if there were a possibility of looters. And we always have enough food in the pantry/fridge/freezer where we could eat for at least 3 weeks if it is just Honey and I at home. Cars also always have at least half a tank of gas.
    Chris
    "Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. It is about learning to dance in the rain."
    Unknown

    My journal: http://www.marksdailyapple.com/forum/thread36279.html

    My "Program": doing my version of a 4:3 - 3 day fast diet with real food every day, with a little twist of anti-inflammatory mixed in.

    Comment


    • Generators are gasoline powered.
      Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt.

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      • But you said it has an electric starter.
        Chris
        "Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. It is about learning to dance in the rain."
        Unknown

        My journal: http://www.marksdailyapple.com/forum/thread36279.html

        My "Program": doing my version of a 4:3 - 3 day fast diet with real food every day, with a little twist of anti-inflammatory mixed in.

        Comment


        • They have a small start battery.
          My journal - The Walrus: http://www.marksdailyapple.com/forum/thread108103.html

          Be silly, be honest, be kind. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

          Comment


          • Long bit of introspection. You have been Warned. Part I

            Posted by Walrus, in Badger's journal:

            "...With my new tidying mania, I feel like I am finally becoming myself. I suppose that sounds a bit melodramatic, but it's true. It's like coming back to a place I've never been before..."

            This really struck me, especially coming after Badger's comments about how her life situation changing had affected the house, even more than she realized, and what going through the 'Magic' has done for that.

            I immediately thought of how I had been raised.

            I want to explore my feelings and thoughts about this. I am feeling a long post coming on.

            Historical recap for context, if you want to follow along. It may just end up being a long blather, with nothing at the end. I'll highlight any revelations that come to me.

            Both my parents were raised in WWII/post Germany. My father's parents were divorced, and he lived with his father and eventual stepmother, who took good care of him during the war while his father was off fighting, but resented him afterwards. He ended up in an orphanage equivalent for many years, seeing his father a couple of times each year.

            My mother was the eldest daughter with three younger brothers that she was responsible for looking after while her mother worked, while her father was fighting. After the war, her father was bed-ridden, and the situation continued.

            My father wanted to emigrate to America after falling in love with San Francisco(he was a merchant sailor). He had dated my mother for several months while in Germany, and after moving to Canada, he wrote to her. She joined him there, and after a few months, they got married. They were able to come to America about a year after that and settled in California, close to San Francisco. They had the two of us.

            My parents divorced when I was seven, my younger sister six. My father got custody of us, uncontested. I find it hard to write about that without value judgments. My mother did not want to be married or have the responsibility of kids, I guess. I asked her once, many years later, why she and my father had got divorced. She said she just didn't love him, and it was impossible to be with someone you didn't love. I have never had the courage to ask her why she didn't take us, definitely the normal course of events in the early seventies. I had asked my father why they got divorced once, when I was in my teens. He said he didn't want to, and always thought she would come back, and that he agreed just because he thought she 'needed space'(also very 70s). Neither of them ever remarried.

            So, our father raised us, and we saw our mother once per week, 10:30am - 12:00pm on Saturdays. She came to our apartment, or we went to hers.

            We were always expected to keep things tidy(good little German girls, after all) but I do not remember ever getting instruction on how that was to happen. And things stayed fairly neat, so I guess we figured out the basics. I could vacuum and dust and do laundry, and dishes, and scrub bathrooms and all that jazz. As long as everything was lined up at right angles, that was tidy. And since we never had a lot of money, the amount of stuff did not overwhelm.

            This is getting long, and I have to get Littlest to track(25 degrees, brrr), so I will break here.
            Last edited by Sabine; 02-02-2015, 05:35 AM.

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            • Interesting in a couple of ways for me.

              First the idea that the house was kept tidy but I don't remember anyone teaching me how to do it, we had our chores and we did them.

              Second, my husband is German, and the line "as long as everything was lined up at right angles, that was tidy" describes his version of clean so very well. I am a scrubber from way back, but having things alined doesn't matter to me. So I scrub he tidies (almost unconsciously).

              Third, being my father's daughter, people's stories really intrigue me. Thank you for sharing yours. I will admit that if we were chatting, I would be asking a slew of questions.
              Chris
              "Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. It is about learning to dance in the rain."
              Unknown

              My journal: http://www.marksdailyapple.com/forum/thread36279.html

              My "Program": doing my version of a 4:3 - 3 day fast diet with real food every day, with a little twist of anti-inflammatory mixed in.

              Comment


              • I am excited to hear the rest of the story. So sad that your time spent with your mother was spent cleaning (as it sounds by the way I read the passage above - please correct me if I'm wrong).
                Primal since March 5, 2012
                SW: 221 | CW: 204 | LPW: 166 | UGW: 140 (80 lbs loss)



                Comment


                • Thank you for sharing your story with us, I am intrigued.

                  I too had plenty of chores as a child, but I don't remember anyone teaching me anything. I suppose these tasks were considered simple and easy no instruction was necessary, but I do remember wishing someone would tell me what to do. I remember being overwhelmed, looking a room I was supposed to clean and not having any real idea what to do except run a cloth over surfaces and push the vacuum cleaner around, pick up things that obviously didn't belong, etc.

                  I have questions I daren't ask my mother; different questions, but nonetheless.
                  My journal - The Walrus: http://www.marksdailyapple.com/forum/thread108103.html

                  Be silly, be honest, be kind. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

                  Comment


                  • Oh, yes, I think we all have questions for our mother we dare not ask. I certainly do... both of them, now I come to think of it.
                    I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

                    Comment


                    • I wanna follow you on Pinterest too!! Come find me? https://www.pinterest.com/jstyler3b/
                      Primal since March 5, 2012
                      SW: 221 | CW: 204 | LPW: 166 | UGW: 140 (80 lbs loss)



                      Comment


                      • Been very busy with a new part-time job. ('Magic' fans will be pleased/amused that a good portion of my time is used folding towels.) It's really cutting into my computer time. But I am looking forward to padding our emergency fund.

                        Jenn- No, the time with my mother wasn't spent cleaning- I just didn't transition my paragraphs very well. The cleaning up was just for general life at home.
                        I'll look for you on Pinterest. I am just under my name. The Sabine with a Twined Rag Rug board.

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                        • Just followed you on the devil's larder...(I'm the woman giving a dinosaur tongue in my profile pic).
                          I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

                          Comment


                          • Introspection, Part II

                            So, I have mother issues. Abandonment issues.

                            A couple of years ago I figured out that quite a bit of my expectations for myself, are tied up with what I think my mother thinks of me.

                            Stupid as it is, I think children ALWAYS blame themselves in some way if their parents divorce. Especially since my mother did not take us with her, or spend much time with us, I know I felt there was something wrong with me, that I was inadequate. Succeeding at anything, would prove that I was good, which meant my mother was WRONG, and that just wasn't acceptable. It was better for me to fail, and prove that my mother was right in her judgment.

                            So messed up, and not very logical, but when I figured it out, there was this big 'click' for me. It explained a lot of my actions. (My fiction writing for one, has really taken off once I had this revelation.)

                            I don't blame all my ills on my mother. I made my decisions. But they were influenced by emotions which were definitely set up by conditions my mother (and father) created. And it took me too long to figure it out. So I have some bad habits to deal with.

                            A story that seems to fit here: On a visit several years ago to my sister, I was showing my sister and my mother some handknit socks. My mother remarked that 'if Sabine could do it, I certainly could.' I accepted it as a justified opinion of me, that I wasn't really up to much. It was my sister who pointed out that it wasn't necessarily an easy thing, and that she thought I had done a great job.

                            When I was about thirteen, one of my Christmas presents from my mother was a little wallhanging that said, 'A creative mind is rarely tidy.' I was thrilled that my mother thought I might be creative, and accepted that I must also be untidy. After that, they were linked in my mind. I remember what a shock I had when one of our guild speakers said, "being organized allows me the time to be more creative." I had so internalized the opposite. It was almost a badge of honor to me. If I was untidy, it was because I was creative, and my mother thought I was creative, and that was a good thing, wasn't it? If I wasn't good enough to keep around as a daughter, at least I was CREATIVE. Being untidy was a small price to pay for that.

                            I WAS a creative little bugger. I was always making up stories, and writing them down, making clothes and little villages out of cardboard. Lots of cooking, and dancing. Drawing elaborate patterns and coloring them in.

                            Having my father making us clean up was what kept me in check, I guess, at home. Once I went to college, I got much more untidy. Too bad the wallhanging didn't say 'A creative mind is disciplined." Who knows how I would be acting now.

                            The quote, again:

                            "...With my new tidying mania, I feel like I am finally becoming myself. I suppose that sounds a bit melodramatic, but it's true. It's like coming back to a place I've never been before..."

                            There's sure to be plenty of other things, casually tossed off by my parents, that I absorbed to make my self-image. I'm wondering what mottoes I would choose now for myself, to be my building blocks? What I would have chosen then, if I had known I was building myself?

                            That's it for now. It's getting a little much for me. Good thing I am doing this in bits.

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                            • Originally posted by badgergirl View Post
                              ... the devil's larder...
                              Too funny. And so true!

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                              • There's the idea in poetry that the more constrained the form - a sonnet, triolet or villanelle - the greater the freedom of expression. Perhaps the discipline of tidy surroundings allows the mind to soar free?

                                (and hugs for the mother issues. oh joy, I have them too - adoption, a strange sort of amputation, and then I have the extra delight of taking issue with my replacement mother what can I say, I'm difficult!)
                                Last edited by badgergirl; 02-04-2015, 05:56 PM.
                                I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

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