Hello and welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," natural disaster edition! I'm your host, Anne Johnson, and today (for once) I'm going to be serious.
When the forecasters began to predict Hurricane Sandy in 2012, I did something that caused no end of derision within my household: I emptied all the bins of fairy costumes and Christmas ornaments and school mementos, and I put all the empty bins out in the back yard, topless.
When the storm clouds gathered and the wind picked up, I filled the bathtub and the washing machine to the tip top, and I filled every large pot to the brim with water. I used the hose to fill the bins.
And oh, was I ever disrespected for it! Mr. J and The Fair thought I was being alarmist and ridiculous.
Hurricane Sandy made landfall on Samhain and wiped out power for 8.7 million East Coasters. A cold front came after the storm (really cold). Some people were without power for a month. A colleague of mine lost her whole house to the ravenous waves.
Turns out I didn't need all that water I poured in the bins and pots. But what if I had needed water?
Water is taken for granted in most of America. You turn on the tap, and out it comes. You flush the john, and off goes the waste. You jump in the shower, and voila! Minty fresh!
But what happens if your water supply is cut off? I mean, open the tap and nothing comes out? This could happen anywhere.
Even with low-flow toilets, you need about two gallons of water to flush. This was what I had in mind when I filled all those bins. Three people were living in my house during Hurricane Sandy, and I would need to flush the toilet at least once a day. Even my meager math skills were sufficient to see how much water we would need.
And then there's tooth-brushing, and minimal washing, and just plain old drinking.
Humans can survive a few weeks without heat or food, but nobody's gonna go that long without drinking water. And let me tell you from experience: Life with a restricted water supply is really, really different than what we take for granted here in the USA.
Call me paranoid or alarmist if you like, but I know the location of every spring in my vicinity, the flow of the spring, and ease with which I could fill water vessels from its banks. I hope I never have to put this knowledge to the test, but maybe I will. Gods know I won't give myself much of a chance of survival if I have to drink New Jersey spring water straight from the ground, but I sure could flush a toilet with it, or boil it, or just take a leap of faith and drink it.
My free advice to you, valued reader, is this: When a weather forecast is very dire, and the worlds "widespread power outages" are used, that's the time when you should get out your bins and your pots, and fill your tub and your washing machine. It's even better if you have a rain barrel or a few trash cans that are on the clean side. What harm does it cause if you fill up all those vessels against a dire emergency?
If you live in a relatively moist area (like New Jersey), take a look around your basic neighborhood, within walking distance. Is there a water source? How clean is it? Could you carry water back from it to flush your crapper? These are things you should consider.
This preparation won't keep you from having to stand in line for bottled water, but it will be very helpful in keeping yourself and your bathroom clean.
As long as we're on the subject, latrine pits can be dug if the ground isn't frozen. Not pleasant to contemplate, but hey. Our ancestors survived it. Heck, I survived it.
Water is more valuable than petroleum, diamonds, sportscars, and mansions. Make sure you're prepared in an emergency. If you don't have bins full of fairy costumes and Christmas ornaments, go out and buy a few. Bins, that is ... not fairy costumes. It's no skin off your nose if you find yourself with a well-watered lawn in the wake of a disaster. But it could be quite dire to find yourself waterless while everyone else around you is waterless too.
This advice is offered free of charge, because you are all such wonderful people! Peace out.
