When I was in the desert in 1991, I learned that no one but me could take care of myself and those closest to me. I learned I had to be prepared.
As 1999 matured into August, I listened to the shortwave, which broadcast on a twilight level of awareness. It warned of a possibility of catastrophic doom that would be upon us just as fast as the first snow flies. I learned that preparation was not an option.
In 2010, after 9 years of instability in the post-9/11 world, I learned that I must be prepared. Jack Spirko was a voice of reason: "Store what you eat, eat what you store." It was simple and could prepare us not only for storms, sickness, and disasters, but also could carry a family through a layoff.
In 2020, I was prepared, and with a couple of fine-tunings, we were good. As I looked at how I built preps that seemed to align with Jack's eat/store/eat mentality, I was sure we could survive for 6 months without leaving the house if the pandemic reached critical stages. By day 60, we would be at a stage where meal imbalances existed. On Day 120, we would switch to "gruel mode." But I am telling you we could do it.
To test this out, amid stories of refrigerated trucks lined up on NYC streets to collect body bags, we did not leave the house for one month solid. We never shopped for anything during that time, and it worked flawlessly.
As COVID transitioned from pandemic to endemic, I slowly loosened my grip on the wheel. I could see that my prep philosophy was off track. It did not have a tight plan for what meals would be like and how to distribute them. Sorry Jack. I decided to coast on many things to consume them and turn them over in inventory.
That worked pretty well for many things, but as I started opening cupboards and storage racks, I found things dated as far back as 2008, and many from 2015. These were from previous preps, and it was easy to toss them, knowing I got them very cheaply at the time.
In the last year, I have noticed an unanticipated focus where my preps and my cooking are intersecting. I have never been able to keep them in the same realm. It told me what I should never buy, and I felt foolish for having bought those things instead of the ones we would have ABSOLUTELY used.
One area that I have been slowly tapping into is a section of my home where I built a wall of shelves three and a half inches wide. It was just wide enough for cans and jars and went floor to ceiling. I filled these with canned goods. Spam, corned beef hash, corn, beets, peas, beans, artichokes, coconut milk, well, you get the picture.
The problem is, we are not really a canned-good family. I have used many cans of black beans and corn for making Southwest Eggrolls. But if we eat peas, we prefer them frozen. Greenbeans, we only eat fresh. So I could not keep up with consuming ahead of dates compared to the amounts that I purchased. Most of the goods in this storage area had best-before dates of 2022 and 2023. The spam and the hash were fine because I do have recipes and need them regularly.
Even worse, these were stored in a part of my basement that has become harder to access because of the projects we have been working on since late 2024. But, yesterday, I needed to gain access to that small room, and as I was straightening it up. I went into full-fledged reconciliation mode. That transitioned into my famous "Give a Mouse a Cookie from the Dark Side" scenario.
I began clearing away things that were well past their best before dates, and before I knew it, I had 20 gallons of goods lying in the yard out back that I tossed out the basement window. As I looked at this, and at each can, I realized that I have one of those brains that can recall just about every one of these purchases. Mind you, a good part of this was bought at the local food reclamation store, so those were already close to date. Had we had them in rotation, it would have worked.
There is a funny way to look at oneself in the wake of this waste. I am learning things about myself that I cannot find words for. Oddly, that seems to be the theme these days of my conscience awareness. Especially when it comes to cooking. I am tuned in to some radio signal that no one else can hear.
I think I am getting better. I really took yesterday to incredible limits, cutting a hole for a door in the laundry room, changing the layout of our basement. It is getting better. I am learning. But this has to do with so much more than food, preps, and efforts. It is about how time is spent and how to save it. In that regard, I am only learning.
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