The Just-In-Case Blues

I’m still here. Despite the worst case scenarios of my all too rich imagination (and rabid social media), I haven’t succumbed to plague or pestilence. I’ve yet to be abducted by aliens, perish in an imminent ice age, or hit by a meteor. Despite this summer’s 100-year drought, my family still has plenty of water to drink and wash in. I continue to fill up my car’s gas tank and go to the store to buy out-of-season fruits and vegetables.

Truthfully, I am very fortunate that most of my forebodings have not come to pass. And now I must face the deepest of my hoarder-survivor-off-the-grid-bomb-shelter-apocalypse fears and get rid of safety nets.

This includes the above. What you see is an artistic shot of a Lodge cast iron dutch oven, the vessel I thought would save our lives. For over a decade it has resided on the hearth of various fireplaces, waiting for the day a lack of electricity would render our kitchen stove useless, and we could gather round a smoking wood fire like our caveman ancestors to heat up a can of soup.

I always envisioned how this humble caldron with a badly fitting lid would help us live another day in the great blizzard of the new millennium. Except that we are still waiting, and the cast iron of my preparedness has sat in the garage rusting for the last few years, a victim to spontaneous purge.

Or maybe I was just sick of dusting it.

Anyway, it has been polished up to look its best for the trip to Goodwill. Along with the last of the off-gassing Tupperware containers, some castoff clothing from my adult daughter’s youth, extra wood shims left without support, and an odd number of custard cups.

I can’t imagine how thrilled the good folks at my favorite charity will be.

So what will I store for the coming harsh winter and the Mayan end of times? Just take a look at these babies:

We may be doomed, but at least I’ll have green tomatoes.

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