June 12
“It took some time, Mom, but we did find the right stove,” Jason said excitedly.
He and Eric emerged from the big pickup truck Eric had parked down by the doors to the walk-out basement.
“The really tough part was getting enough copper pipe and fittings. Too bad the gas can’t travel in PVC pipe, we found plenty of that,” Eric said. “And yes, Mom, we made note of where that supply is.” He grinned, knowing I would ask. They wheeled the hand-truck carrying the new stove into the enclosed lower deck, and then into the house.
“I’m going to have to turn the gas off at the tank to sweat these pipes, Mom, just so you know… in case you want to do something else,” Jason said.
“It’s such a nice day I think I’ll work in the garden. Let me know if you need anything,” I replied. The weather had taken a nice turn with seventy degree days and muted sunshine. The sunshine was always muted or muddy these days.
*
As I loosened the dirt and pulled weeds, dropping them into the waiting basket that would go to the new compost pile, it gave me plenty of time to reflect and think. I knew I was very concerned about the coming winter and our food supply. I feared we would lose even more people to starvation, and there was nothing I could do about it. The more I thought, the more I was reminded of the Survival Creed I learned so many years ago: “The well prepared are under no obligation to endanger their own survival to assist those who have refused, for whatever reasons, to provide for their own welfare.” I tried to remember this every time I got the urge to give away some of our food. I couldn’t feed everyone. I couldn’t save everyone. I just couldn’t.
What could I do to help the people who now lived in Moose Creek to help themselves?
I finished the weeding and cultivating quickly, then headed down to the shore of Lake Meade. The water was very still, reflecting the pale blue sky like a glass mirror. I could see reflections of trees and houses around the lake in the silent water. I followed the shore, becoming more and more interested in the transformation of the houses. Once home to the wealthier of Moose Creek, with multiple boats tied to expensive docks and pristine trimmed lawns of evenly cut deep green, the long yards were now churned up and growing vegetables. I waved to the people working these gardens and smiled when they waved back. The house that caught my attention though, had no one working the ground, no toys on the porch, no bicycles leaning against the door. And that house was next to the one I shared with Tom and Jim. No one lived there anymore.
The closer I got to the house, the closer I got to an idea. This vacant building, with all its huge glass windows that faced the usually sunny lake, could be turned into a living greenhouse that could provide food during the cold winter months that were sure to come.
I turned the doorknob and let myself in. I had issued this place to a woman and her husband, along with her adult daughter and her husband; they had wanted to stay together and had wanted a large garden. They had all perished in the flu epidemic. I walked through the quiet house slowly, never having been inside before. The floor to ceiling glass walls could be used as passive solar heating and if we put in well-spaced shelves there would be a great deal of growing area.
The kitchen was massive, with lots of counter space and a large work island: a cook’s kitchen. It would be ideal for processing and canning. The large, six burner gas stove made my decision easy. We could turn this house into a food processing center for the entire community to use. I could see us holding classes for those that were unfamiliar with the art of canning. It was a good thing Harold decided to stay, as I certainly couldn’t do it all myself.
I wandered down to the basement level. That it wasn’t a walk-out was a bonus. Half buried and concrete, it would hold the temperature of the ground plus be spared the icy winds that were sure to arrive in a few months. We could install bins and boxes of soil for those crops that needed that storage method like carrots and beets. I could visualize shelves of wire to hold potatoes; hooks to hang cabbages and onions from...
This could work.