So, You Think You’re Prepared…So Did I and I Was Wrong

I pride myself on being organised. I have most of the preps that you have, I say most because I don’t have guns and ammunition…we are not judged as competent enough to have private weapons in the UK, quite simply due to the fact that half a dozen nutters have gone on rampages over the last half century…but that’s another story, time to get back to the point.

We moved from the city a year ago this week. As a family our reasons for doing so were diverse. My husband wanted to be nearer his parents and felt that small town life would be better for our child. Our daughter wanted to live both in the country and by the beach…she now has both. Me well, how long have you got? You already know most of my reasons, because you are also people who want a more sustainable lifestyle, a life where there’s cleaner air, space to grow food and far less chance of God knows how many people romping through looking for food and anything else they can find when the shit hits the fan.

Having said that such a move does not come cheap and to achieve our dream we had to take on a house that needs renovating from the foundations up. It has been nicknamed the squat from day one, but that’s not really fair to real squats. Parodies have been made to the third world properties, bombed out shells of homes in war zones and a variety of other similar,  semi-destroyed properties.

Doing the place up without debt has been and continues to be hard when there is so much to be done. My husband going to work in Kenya in October caused the real panic to set in, the redo needs to be all but complete before he goes so we have literally put every last penny we have into getting more stuff done, essentially reducing our two year target for getting the place finished,  to eighteen months.

We have stripped the place back to bare brick, fixed leaks and built ceilings, all to save money getting people in to do the jobs. We are dusty and exhausted, it’s taking its toll.

Right, enough of the background, onto the prepping. To save even more cash to move the project forward we have started to eat the preps that are coming up for expiry. The bonus is it is also less to move around each time we need to get another room plastered or plumbed or whatever.

It’s hardly roughing it, I have been very selective with what I have stored. Not having a pressure canner means that meat is essentially fresh or frozen but put with fresh veggies its more than decent food. Home dehydrated veggies and herbs make excellent casseroles and stews when put with cheap cuts of meat.

Ditto for rice and pasta dishes, were are doing okay and don’t feel at all deprived without the monthly food shopping trip off the island to the superstore.

I have even used stored toilet rolls, shampoos and other such products as well as washing powders and fabric conditioners from my stores in order to move the house on, all the time praying that the system holds until these things are replaced. There’s still enough to get us through for three months up in the roof, hidden away from the prying eyes of contractors working on the house.

Bearing all this in mind, who would have thought that a six inch piece of plastic pipe would have caused me to have a major meltdown?

We have had to strip out the kitchen to get it plumbed, plastered and electrics installed. Calling it a kitchen is a bit of a stretch actually. Its a room with a sink and a very, very old but kind of working cooker which I refuse to replace when in six months I will be fitting a new kitchen. There is a 1940’s cupboard giving me three feet of counter space and that’s it. Not much but it functions if you are organised and tidy.

The father-in-law came over to help get everything ready for the plasterers. I told him there was a leak on the sink waste pipe. It drips but nothing excessive, a bowl underneath solves the problem. As you can imagine the sink is old…very old, and neither it or the waste pipes conform to modern uniform sizing. We disconnected it VERY carefully and laid it to one side, giving the father-in-law very strict instructions not to mess with it as it would most likely fall apart.

Guess what happened?

Yep. Father-in-law started tinkering and the whole thing fell apart, actually disintegrated is a better term.

You can’t get bits for it. Okay, looks like handwashing etc for a while, but it isn’t that easy.

Now, here on the island there are few rules and regulations. Very few, another reason we chose to live here. One that does exist though is waste water regs. This is for a very good reason, we are a very small island, surrounded by the ocean. Waste water HAS to go into the very, very effective sewerage system that takes it over to the mainland. Even the pavements have little indents in them to channel rainwater into the very neat drains that are placed every 100 feet. Houshold drains are buried, waste is piped straight into the system to be dealt with on the mainland.

Everything now has to be done in the bath here at the squat, washing, washing up, everything because the kitchen is no longer connected to the drainage system.

Now washing clothes in a bucket outside and dumping the water on the lawn is not really an issue. Except that the garden is almost pure clay and the water does not seep away, it just sits there. Carrying the water out is a problem, the sink as I said is not standard and buckets do not fit under the taps. So it’s a long, slow and tiring process. Back to the bath then.

Washing up water is a different matter. Even when dishes are scraped dirty dishwater has an odour, and the island rodents love it! There isn’t a massive rat problem on the island but like everywhere else they are here, the clay soil allows water to pool and therein lies the problem. So, all washing up is carted upstairs and into the bathroom.

To say I am pissed that my father-in-law broke all the seals on this dirt cheap six inch chunk of plastic pipe is an understatement.

I am going through the house and noting anything that is not standardised so that I can replace it with widely available parts. At least this will make future repairs easier.

In addition we’ve added a soakaway to the list of things to do. They are banned on the island because of soil saturation issues, but I am putting one in just the same. A big hole filled with rubble and broken bricks, of which we have plenty, will be topped with decent topsoil that will let water drain through it. Topped with a few flowers it will look like nothing more than a flower bed but will do the job should the drains become unusable.

Also, a method of plugging the pipes up that lead from the house to the underground system will be essential to prevent waste flowing back into the house if they back up.

So, what have I learned?

• There is always something that you haven’t thought of that will trip you up.
• Having standardized fittings makes life much easier.
• Prepping pays off even if only to get you through a personal crisis or difficult period.
• Encountering problems opens your eyes to future changes you need to make.
• My father-in-law should have a ‘your life is about to get harder’ sign on his back.
• This is my fourth and final renovation. Never again.

I am not as prepared as I thought I was. I have failed on one of the primary rules of prepping. Have a backup, and have a backup for your backup.

Okay, time to go and wash up…in the bath.

Take Care

Liz