Tuesday, March 24, 2020

Manila Corona Virus March 25. Introspection

Today I am baking homemade bread.

I didn't get enough yeast so it will take longer to rise vs more fat times.

Opened a tiny can of corned beef, mixed with 1 cup TVP, 1 cup hot water and one spoon of powdered beef + oregano from the garden.

Making a fake beef burger jollibee style. (google the worlds shittiest fast food burgers)

Homemade catsup: sugar tomato paste citric acid garlic, onion powder.

Back years ago, I always wondered the taste of those TVP fake meat meals I saw sold in survivalist websites. Now I know.. hahaha...

It was my best onine purchase on Lazada but unfortunately not enough arrived in time before the shut down. (17 kilos with 15 kilos stuck in transit)

It seriously has extended the food stores. Have only opened a couple cans since the lockdown, and still on the first kilo bag.

We are eating 2 meals per day now. Better 2 filling meals than 3 less satisfying meals.

Fresh lettuce in a couple weeks from the garden, such a luxury now.

So much hard road ahead. Only if we reach down, work hard and harden our hearts will we get thru these times.

This is the time where (literally) the soft will not survive.

My Grandfather was born in 1913.  I came of age in the 1980's during the last years of his life.

My grandfather was a sonofabitch.  He was a hard drinker, hard fighter, and fucked anything he could get his dick into.

But as a child, He passed along these things to me.

At that time, I was still soft.  My father the weak hippie peacenik would take me to see my grandfather at his house in Hazel Green Wisconsin.  A rather large wood clapboard house on the edge of a small Wisconsin farm town built in the mid 1800's by English immigrants.

My grandfather would recall tales while drinking endless cups of black coffee from a blue spotted porcelain coffee pot.  The kind where you boiled water, dumped in a spoon of Hills Bros from the big red can, and then just as the foam nearly boiled over, remove the pan from the stove, and a few seconds later toss in a bit of cold water to settle the grounds.  

He would pour the coffee while the foam was on top because he said that the foam on the coffee made you rich.

My grandfather would recall things from the 1920's 1930's.  The times in his life as from maybe 13-35 years old.  It would run on, into a continuous stream of words from his mouth.  Sitting sideways at his table, in that old 2 story house that itself was at least 100 years old by then.  The scent of coffee, decades old sweat, canned foods, mold, kerosene, and the urine from the toilet because he would not flush the toilet unless he defecated to save water.  

His breath smelled awful because he would wash his teeth with a rag and bar of soap.  Yet he still had all his teeth.

For years he inoculated me with these things.  The life experiences I was yet too young to grasp.  The hard times of the Great Depression. 

He saved everything, because he said, you never know when it may become valuable. 

Now when I open a beer from my slowly declining stock, I remember him.  I save my bottle and the cap, because I never know when I may need a perfectly good glass bottle and cap. 

My time of plenty is effectively over. 

My only consolation was that I had warning to prepare.

1 comment:

Phil said...

You were very fortunate to get to hear those tales. I'm sure you can pick out the parts with wisdom now.
I was fortunate enough to be raised partially by my maternal grandparents who both came from the South and lived through the Great Depression. I kick myself to this day for not paying closer attention but I still gathered 20 times the knowledge that most people my age did.
I have a feeling that knowledge is going to be put to use here very shortly. I just hope I live long enough to pass some of it on.
The younger generations are completely clueless and I mean 100%.
Who knows, that may be my purpose in life after all.
I'm still praying for you. BTW, I commented on this post after I read the latest post about all those idiots mingling together at the market.

Self inflicted population reduction in action.