The Journal: Cracked Earth by Deborah D. Moore Page A

of the world. Even
so, I wear my shoulder holster constantly now.
    Oddly, there wasn’t even a mention of the
continuing relief efforts on the East Coast for the victims of the
hurricane.
     
    * * *
     
    It is past the time to do something about the
storage shed and I could kick myself for not taking care of this
earlier when the weather was nice. Wallowing in self-pity
distracted me from those details. Now I have to shovel the deck of
the seven inches of snow before I can start bringing in some of
those buckets of long term storage. The only good part is that
instead of carrying one or two at a time, I can put four on the
sled to get them from the shed to the deck. I would have to bring
them in one at a time anyway, and it’s going to be slippery,
thankfully there won’t be too many to move right now.
    I moved the futon away from the wall and made
sure that the carpet was rolled back too. I’m really not sure how
much is going to fit back there, yet I don’t have any alternatives,
I have to have this food easily available.
    I overestimated the battery backup for the
cell tower. I lost internet and cell phone at 4:15 P.M. Before it
went out, I got an email from Kris in Minnesota. I hope she
realizes how lucky she is that her town has a power plant! Those
towns continue to use their own power, though any excess must be
routed to someone else’s emergency services, likely the Twin Cities
for her town. Her hospital, schools, library, water treatment plant
and local TV and radio stations will continue to function. Even
though they have a bank, it won’t open because most of the offices
are shut down to transactions. The gas stations aren’t getting any
deliveries, so once the gas is gone, those close down too. Even the
stores and bars will close once the supplies run out. I’m thinking
that the library and movie theater are going to be very busy. I
wonder if she has a bike to get around town on?
    My bike is in the barn; I can’t use it in the
snow. Maybe I had better lock that up anyway. That one is easy,
it’s a metal barn and I can padlock the doors. Anyone with
bolt-cutters could get in, but why make it easy? I suppose I could
put some of the buckets in the barn, and rig an alarm to let me
know if anyone opens the doors. More to think about.
    I’m intentionally staying out of town. The
township offices are closed today, and I will also avoid the church
tomorrow too. I’m in a weird mood and not really fit company, even
for Tufts, who hates this snow. I need some physical activity and
I’ve got to shovel the deck because that’s where the grill and
gennie are.
    I can still smell snow in the air and the
clouds are getting darker and lower. I might be in for a real
blast. I better bring in a bit more wood. My first burn pile is
almost gone and that’s good. I’d hate digging a path to it.
     
    * * *
     
    JOURNAL ENTRY: November 25
     
    It was snowing hard when I got up this
morning. There must be a fresh six inches already with no signs of
stopping. I wonder if I should use the snow-blower later. I wonder
if they are going to plow the roads? I wonder if anyone cares.
    With no phone, I feel totally cut off.
    I had set the turkey carcass to cook for soup
right after everyone left on Thursday. It was cool enough this
morning to strip off the remaining meat, so now I will can it. That
means going out to the other shed in this blizzard for the pressure
canner and jars.
     
    * * *
     
    I got twenty pints of turkey soup out of the
carcass. That’s twenty more days of lunch, of surviving. It’s funny
how the perspective changes when the food supply is limited.
    Dinner tonight will be a pork chop from the
freezer, a half can of black-eyed peas and maybe some cornbread. I
can have the rest of the cornbread for breakfast tomorrow and then
add the other half of peas to my lunch soup.
     
    * * *
     
    The snow finally stopped around noon. I will
measure it when I dig my way to a flat space. It looks like around
fifteen inches