Be Prepared

From September 13, 2010 Written right after I was back home after being evacuated for wildfire (I was gone 5 days). With recent wildfires near loved ones, I thought I’d share this again.

Living in the forest has always brought with it a possibility of wildfire. For over twenty years I have learned and implemented as much as I could about wildfires, had an emergency plan in place and actually prepared to evacuate several years ago. So when the word came out Monday around noon to get ready to leave, there was no panic, just action putting the plan into place.

Then on Thursday, when the winds kicked up again and the city of Boulder advised an additional nine thousands residents to be prepared just in case they needed to be evacuated, the response was more chaotic. I know of people who panicked along with people who refused to believe there was any need for action.

The most common question was what should I do?

Since the events of this week have made it clear that a disaster could happen to any one of us, here is my advice.

The time to prepare for a disaster is now, especially if you are not in any immediate danger.

Don’t wait until you have to think up a plan while scared, anxious, or needing to help others. It won’t take more than an hour or so to come up with your plan. Even if you can’t find your plans and lists when disaster does strikes, you’ll be able to recreate quite a bit of it from memory.

The most valuable part of planning for me was knowing where things were. I keep many papers in a file close to the phone and so was able to pack up a lot of valuable information very quickly.

Here are some lists that can be stored on a cell phone, computer, and also printed out and kept near the home phone for easy access:

  • Phone numbers and addresses for family and friends, with as many cell and home phone numbers as you can gather (and make sure you know which one is which).
  • Phone numbers for health care professionals and health insurance.
  • Phone numbers for house insurance, lawyer, accountant, or any other advisors.
  • Phone numbers for neighbors.
  • Phone numbers for employers – making sure you have some alternate contacts.

Here are other lists that should be kept more securely (I have a fireproof box).

  • List of logins and passwords for internet accounts.
  • List of driver’s license numbers, social security numbers, and passport or visa numbers for all family members.
  • Copies of first 2 pages of recent tax returns.
  • Copies of recent investment accounts.

Here are some things that ought to be stored off site.

Now is the time to set up safe deposit boxes, offsite computer backups, or whatever is needed.

  • Birth, marriage, divorce and any other life defining certificates.
  • Deeds and titles to registered vehicles.
  • Wills, power of attorney, stock certificates, etc.
  • Back up of critical computer files.
  • If you ever are organized enough to create a home inventory (video or via list), keep a copy of this off site as well.

With wildfires or bad storms, people are often back in their homes in a day or so, but I recommend packing enough clothes, toiletries, medicines, etc. as if going on a three day trip, and taking at least one extra pair of shoes. Pets should have everything they need for at least three days as well. Make sure you take all check books, credit cards, and all cash in the house along with you (I dumped my bowl of coins in my purse and was glad to have change handy). In addition, I have just added the cell phone charger, police scanner, binoculars, flashlight, and a jacket to my list of what to take for the next evacuation. Hurricane evacuees have blankets, water and food on their list, and they often plan out their routes clear ahead of time. When traveling in winter I carry candles and matches to help heat a stranded car. Everyone’s list is going to be a bit different, I am just hoping everyone has a list and gives a little extra thought now to what they will do in an emergency. For those who may not have heard, I got home to a house that suffered no damage. In fact, there wasn’t even a momentary power outage during the evacuation. But it would have only taken one larger wind gust, or just a slightly slower response from fire fighters and my tale could have been quite different.

The Boy Scouts got it right. Be prepared.

Life in a Flash

In a few weeks, I will be in the midst of my mother’s one hundredth birthday celebrations. Ten years ago, when we celebrated her 90th, I ended up bleary eyed and hoarse from trying to keep up with her and with all her friends and relatives. For that weekend they had me going from dawn until way past my bedtime trying to enjoy the time and also help my siblings host and run the party.
My contribution was a slide show that played on a TV in the corner of the room during the open house. It contained family pictures from the past sixty years, with the lone commonality between all of them being my mother. If she wasn’t in the photo, it didn’t get into the slide show.
I knew I wasn’t sharp enough to put them in correct chronological order, so I mixed them up.

Flash. It’s 1958 and the family is lined up, in Sunday clothes, squinting at the camera.

Flash. Mom and her sisters standing before a covered bridge sometime before 1985.

Flash. Mom sitting in front of her computer sometime recently, concentrating on the screen, oblivious of the photographer.

Flash. 1977, a reunion at Kent Park. Did we really wear polyester to picnics?
I hoped it kept the subject matter fresh, as we bounced around through time over hundreds of photos. People seemed to like it, with someone in front of the TV all afternoon. I think part of its success was that each slide appeared for only eight seconds on the screen before passing by. The timing took some effort to work out. Older people need more time to view a photo, while the next generation only needs milliseconds. Do I allow time for someone to expound on a funny (or not so funny) story that the photo triggered? Or hurry through to keep the horror of some of those hairdos from spoiling the mood? I settle on eight seconds – no time to analyze how bad the focus or exposure was on each photo, just enough time to recognize the time and place, smile, and move on.
In case you’re wondering, it turns out that those awful pictures taken when you were young don’t get any better with age. They are still awful. Time, though, does allow you and everyone around you to laugh at them. Loudly. There are even new things to laugh at — the fashions we took seriously way back when, and the realization that some very old people used to be young, and bare remarkable resemblances to the cute babies of their offspring.
It will be interesting to see how the next slide show looks. Photographs have changed. 10 years ago most of the photos came from the Kodakchrome age – where film and developing costs meant you took pictures almost entirely at big events. There were few action shots – it seemed mandatory to line up, stand up straight, and keep still before the shutter was clicked. You kept the photos even if they were dark, blurry, and/or with heads, feet, or entire persons cut off. Each photo was a treasure, as out of that lined up, bad lighting world personalities and relationships still pop out. There’s that one boy that is shown picture after picture with shirt untucked, arms akimbo, or in motion. The gentle hand of the older sibling holding the littler one still, showing a family that got along.
Today, photography has become an integral part of every day life. Pictures depict smaller events or no event at all. People take more photos of themselves than pointing their many camera lens at others. Many are meant to only last 8 seconds then disappear. What will there be for the slide shows of the future?
On my drive home to Colorado after the 90th birthday party, I spent the entire drive collecting my thoughts and rehashing the events of the weekend. I remember making a complete fool of myself by not recognizing one of my first cousins. This trumps my faux pas at my mother’s eightieth birthday party, where I failed to recognize my former next-door neighbor, last seen when he was not yet a teen. But still, at this rate I won’t need to plan birthday parties for myself, as I’ll be lucky to recognize myself!
I ruminated on how I didn’t get to talk to so many of the people who were there. With the crowds that come from large families and lots of friends, I was only able to wave to some people from across the room. Others I only know were there because they signed the guest book.
I had also figured there would be some old-fashioned line up photo sessions galore, but there didn’t seem to be enough time or room to pose for pictures. Instead, there are lots of pictures with someone’s arms in the way, with people moving or with their backs turned. And a lot of open mouths talking and smiling.
But as I thought of all the people I wanted to spend more time with, including my mother and all my brothers and sisters, I realized that this weekend was just like the slide show.

Flash. For what seemed like only eight seconds I met my new grand-niece.

Flash, a moment with an old neighbor from the farm.

Flash, hugging my aunt.

Flash.

Flash. Oh no, I’ve forgotten who you are.
Sometimes life is like that, passing by in appears to be eight-second flashes. Some would say this might be the best way to be with relatives, eight seconds at a time. But most of my eight-second flashes that weekend went by too fast, captivating me and leaving me wanting more.
Now I’m older, and the world seems to be going faster. I’ve turned the slide show over to the next generation, so now it’s my niece’s dilemma, deciding which photo makes it in, what order to place them, how long to let them display. I have enough to do to get the events organized, pour over old slide shows trying to remember names, and get ready to enjoy life in a flash.

Discourse on D

It’s sometimes scary where thoughts take me. Today as I was contemplating writing something new for writer’s night at the Palisades Cafe, my thoughts went to the rules for the evening: no more than 10 minutes, no F words. Somehow that jumped me to thoughts of a recent email with a writer friend where every key point started with the letter C (in this case, creativity, clarity and courage). So what’s in between C and F? D, of course, at least at my old high school.

That’s it, I thought. I’ll write about D words, and there’s nothing Joe Jennison can do to stop me.

But all the D words I could think of at first had negative meanings – from Daft to Dystrophy. There are all the “d-e” words – demean, degenerate, defective, dehumanize. And those that start with “d-i-s” – disengage, disembody, disharmony. It’s enough to make me want to disassociate with the letter altogether.

But I thought I should give it a chance, if only because I had no other direction to take. I picked up a real bound-paper dictionary (say- there’s a D word that isn’t so bad) and flipped through the pages. There are some really delightful d words: divine, dance, dignity. Dream. Dessert. I don’t think I’d want to live in a world without them. So I decided to devote my ten minutes or less tonight to D.

After a few more minutes with the dictionary I found reading D words far from dreary. But it is clear that I am not a word etymologist, but I kept trying to see relationships to words listed together. Like diaper and diarrhea – that makes some sense. And I could diagram a connection between them and diatom – a microscopic plant. But not to the nearby words diamond, diameter, diaphanous. Diary? Well, I sure have been known to run on the page when I get to writing in a diary, but that is not the connection to diarrhea I really want to make.

Here’s a run of D words that etymologists wouldn’t necessarily tie together but these words relate to each other: Doctor. Diagnose. Disease. Diabetes. Debilitating. Diet. Dextrose… But then I get distracted by seeing dextrose and dexterous listed one after the other. I start wondering if being mentally skilled would help fight high blood sugar and my distinguished run of words is suddenly derailed.

D is one of those letters that’s been around before we even had the word alphabet. According to Wikipedia, in Egyptian hieroglyphics it symbolized a door. In the Phoenician’s first alphabet it was called Daleth and given a little tail so that it could mean fish or door. I guess that makes sense to use one symbol to mean 2 different nouns. Think about it – there’s not much chance of someone knock knock knocking on heaven’s fish.

The Greeks called it Delta. Romans used it to signify 500. Delta is still used today in math and science to denote change – the difference in temperature between night and day might be written as delta degrees F (or C). And the letter d is key when learning calculus and differential equations, making it more important today than in Roman times. From calculus’ d the world takes the thoughts of mathematicians and derives real world bridges, space ships, and other amazing technologies.

Other abbreviations D is used for today: D is for Deuterium, an isotope of Hydrogen that makes Heavy Water heavy. D is for Deutchland, good to know while traveling in Europe and not seeing any G’s for Germany. There are D sized batteries. Adolescent boys (and girls, too, I guess) dream of D cups.

Drat! I think I’m headed in the direction Joe doesn’t want us to go. But the only thing left is to delve into the daily news. This is quite a dilemma to write without driving dissent. Luckily there are words here for everyone. Examples of d words important to those now in power: deport, defend, deregulate. For those fighting them: deceit, despot, douche. And for the government in general: department. Deportment. And before we despair: Dialogue. Debate. And remember: both of those come before discombobulation.

Now I’ve run dry of D. If I write much longer, I’ll be desiccated. So I’ll stop and think of what might come next.

Daquiri?

Decanted wine?

Or maybe a cup of decaf with some other delicacy. Mmmmm. Decisions.

So I’ll end this dissertation now before I get in a dither and dredge up other diverse thoughts.

D end

Contemplation & The Harvest of Action

Tonight, lay down your pitch forks and scythes (real or metaphorical), sit on your porch swing and spend the evening with the Super Harvest Moon. Not only is it the last of the Super Moon, spending time in contemplation in the moonlight will recapture meaning and energy for the busy season ahead.

This year, more than most, I feel akin to farmers and gardeners. While they are out in the fresh air for too many hours in the day toiling to bring in the harvest, I am sequestered behind my computer monitor, faced with a deluge of work. It appears the spell of summer has finally broken and now many of my customers are scrambling. Unlike the farmers who’ve been watching their crops grow and ripen, to me it feels as if a switch was thrown and demands for my time or action have come tumbling out of a machine.

Some days I feel like that classic scene with Lucille Ball at the candy factory, scrambling to get things right, stuffing some things in my pockets and hat just to keep up, only to have some yell, “Speed it up, Paul.”

Can you feel it? It’s Harvest time. It’s time to get going. For some it’s time to crack the books and start studying, or step it up to win the game. It’s a time when almost everyone feels as if hard work is needed, and we have plenty of motivation to keep working. It would seem to make sense that working even harder would be even better.

But would it?

What we plant in the soil of contemplation, we shall reap in the harvest of action.

Meister Eckhart

This is a season of change, and there’s one thing change always needs, and that is to be thought out. We have enough to do that it doesn’t make sense to be busy for the sake of being busy. Motivation, that pushes me onward, sometimes stops suddenly, often right before a critical deadline.

That’s why I’m advocating for contemplation.

Back on the farm, the outside work would end with the darkness. I would drag myself inside and try to watch some television and always felt drained. I never understood why my mother would prefer sitting quietly on the porch swing while the cicadas droned. But the next day, she would have already thought through what needed to be done, and would always have more than enough energy to make it through the next day, even enough to get me going on the task at hand.

Contemplation doesn’t have to be about solving the world’s problems, over even all of my own problems. It works well to bring myself into the moment, back to living consciously. It is a good time to look at what’s in front of me from a different angle, to realize when goals, or just tactics, need to be shifted. Somehow, the clarity of what needs to be done next helps foster energy and motivation.

Unlike other crops, what we plant in the soil of contemplation can mature overnight.

Then the harvest of action we get feeds our spirit, leaving us with a sense of accomplishment even when we know tomorrow there will be more customers calling, more homework at school, or more crops to be harvested.

The harvest season has only just begun. It would be easy to get discouraged about the amount of work to be done if we just work without a break. Swinging a metaphorical scythe all day the wrong way, or in the wrong field seems worse than just staying in bed. But we can’t stay in bed, there’s too much work to be done. Instead, sit on a swing, go for a stroll, or just sit quietly in reflection. Five minutes is enough to start. Contemplate what you’re doing, why you’re doing it. And enjoy a Super Harvest Moon, too.

How do you handle the busy-ness of the season?

Do you make time for contemplation?

How does it help?

Let Us Begin (again)

letusbegin

From 2002-2011, I wrote essays on life and sent them out via email every Monday morning. Feeling burnt out, I stopped. But they called to me, so I sorted through and put together a book of the ones I liked the most that focused on family. This book was published last month, and now, with feedback from readers and listening to my heart on these long winter nights, I am ready to start again. This time it will be a blog, and who knows what all technology I will incorporate.

In some ways, it is normal for me to be sitting down to write as Barb Unwired. It feels good to be doing it again. In other ways, it is scary. Will I be able to tackle the change to a blog? Will I like the new readers I attract? Will I attract any new readers at all?

Then I remember Mother Teresa’s words. We only have today. Let us begin.

And so I shall.

 

Finding my way through technology to what's really important…