I was buying groceries and saw a new display of pre-packaged plastic boxes of sushi. In the middle of Nebraska. Supermarket sushi. The idea kind of horrified me, but eventually my curiosity got the best of me and I had to try some. I settled on the spicy surimi roll and threw it in the cart. As I was checking out, I asked the cashier if anyone else ever bought these, or if I was the guinea pig. “Oh yeah,” she said. “We sell lots of it!”

Later that afternoon, Jake was asking for a snack so I recruited him to help me try it. The package came with little packets of soy sauce and wasabi, and the sushi itself looked pretty good. Steeling my nerves, I tried it.

The first bite wasn’t bad.

Jake was digging in, and I took a second, less-timid bite. No, not bad at all.

By the time we’d finished, Jake was loving it and I was pretty happy I’d taken the chance.

It certainly wasn’t Haruno, but it was actually pretty decent and something I’d gladly buy again. It was made by Fuji Food Products, Inc., and had a blue-and-gold “Fujisan” logo on the dark red-orange tape strip.

Decent sushi in Norfolk, from a grocery store cooler of all places. Who’d have thought?

Summer’s upon us again. The kids just got out of school on Wednesday, which reminded me that my last post was to say that the kids were just starting back and I haven’t said a word since then. Anyway, we have them signed up for pretty much every summer sport offered and Gabby’s getting ready to start piano lessons, so they’ll be keeping pretty busy.

Jen and I have been mulching the flower gardens, to the tune of about one pickup load of mulch per weekend. We’ve put down about 4 tons now, and I think we’re finally getting to the end of it. Which is good. Because at this point, if I never move another handful of the stuff, that’ll be fine by me.

Well, it’s officially school time again. Gabby and Ari started back yesterday, and Jake went this morning for the first time.

Gabby seemed really happy. She got in line with her friends and immediately jumped back into the swing of things.

When we took Ari into the Montessori preschool, she ran off to play with the other kids as if she’d been there all along. When I picked her up in the afternoon, she told me that she’d learned how to read (so I suppose that they’ll cover math today, and maybe start on biology next Monday).

Jake looked a little unsure this morning, but he was mostly smiling as he lined up and walked to class. I just wish I’d remembered to bring his bookbag and a camera. These are the things that happen when I’m the one who gets the kids ready for school. At least they were fed, dressed and clean.

Last weekend, we took the kids to Tilden’s “Prairie Days” festival, a celebration that raises money for various local organizations.

Events included:

• Whiplash, the dog-riding monkey. We arrived about ten minutes too late to see him, which was unfortunate because he was the main thing the kids were looking forward to.

• An officially-sanctioned cow chip throwing contest. I didn’t know there was an official governing body for such things, but there is. Winners were eligible to compete in the World Championship Cow Chip Throw.

• The First Annual Drag Your Nag Contest. Men carried their wives or girlfriends through an obstacle course, and the winning team earned the woman’s weight (in pounds) in dollars. Jen and I had registered, but when we discovered that:

  1. All the other men looked like firefighters or bullriders and were in much better shape than me,
  2. Almost everyone else was in their early 20s, and
  3. The obstacle course included a mud pit and we weren’t wearing old clothes,

  we (I) chickened out and watched from the sidelines.

We had a great time, though, and gorged ourselves on watermelon. Congratulations on another great year, Tilden!

The kids started swimming lessons yesterday. They all had a great time and left smiling. As I was putting Jake to bed, I asked him about his day:

Me: What was your favorite part of swimming lessons?

Jake: Jumping off the diving board.

Me: Really?

Jake: Yeah. It was a little scary, though.

Me: Well, sometimes the most fun things are a little scary.

Jake: Yeah. (pause) I wish I’d done a back flip.

It seemed like such a simple idea at the time: I’d buy a cheap bike and ride to work whenever possible. I’d get fresh air, exercise, and a tan, and most importantly I’d save money on gas (because I’m a cheapskate and hate paying $3.00 per gallon regardless of whether I can afford it).

So, I went to Happy Fun Land — what we call Wal-Mart when we want to antagonize the kids — and picked up their $80 generic mountain bike. In short, that lasted for a grand total of two (2) round trips to work before a broken chain ended my patience with its mechanical problems.

Wal-Mart kindly allowed me to exchange that lame horse for a slightly more expensive and much nicer Schwinn. I rode it to work exactly once before getting a flat tire.

It’s the little things, really. Chains are easy to fix and cheap to replace, and flat tires aren’t a big deal, but as of today I’ve spend about $50 per ride and I still don’t currently have a working bike. Maybe some of us are just meant to drive.

On my birthday in 2005, I read a Slashdot article discussing what things you might want to take with you if you had to evacuate your home. This was only a few months after Hurricane Katrina leveled southern Louisiana and Mississippi, so quite a few people had given this a lot of recent thought.

The article started off talking about which personal documents you should take copies of (driver licenses, marriage certificates, passports, etc.) — in other words, an electronic survival kit. However, the topic soon veered off into the kinds of things you need to physically stay alive. That made me realize that I’ve never made any such preparations, short of putting some bottled water in our tornado shelter. Below is a summary of the recommendations I came across.

Note: This isn’t meant as a list of things you’ll need to form your own private society out in the desert. I have absolutely zero interest in “survivalism”; I just want to have the stuff needed to keep me and my family alive until the National Guard arrives.

Second note: I primarily wrote this for me and my family. It’s biased towards scenarios that I might have to cope with, but completely ignores things that I could never hope to deal with anyway (such as being lost at sea).

References

• ask.slashdot.org/comments….
• www.m4040.com/Survival/…

How To Carry It

There are two schools of thought here:

1. Pack everything inside a small metal pan that you can use for cooking, carrying water, etc.
   • Pros: no wasted space or weight
   • Cons: small metal pans can get crushed or soaked
2. Put everything “fragile” inside a hardened case, like an OtterBox
   • Pros: your gear stays dry and intact
   • Cons: the box isn’t probably very intrinsically useful

Your application affects your choice very heavily. If you plain to carry mainly camping gear that’s pretty durable, the first option is probably your best choice. If you expect to carry many fragile items, such as an electronic survival kit or other small electronics, then the second is likely better. I personally use an OtterBox.

The List

Note, some of this is blatantly, word-for-word plagiarized from the above sources. My goal is to condense their ideas into one handy list, and there are only so many ways to say “strike anywhere matches”.

• Instructions

  • Short checklist of things you’d never remember to do on your own
  • The US Army Survival Manual. Print it small and use a magnifying glass if you need to.

• Tools

  • Good, metal knife
  • Small multi-tool (for the scissors, screwdrivers, etc.)
  • Compass
  • Thermometer
  • Magnifying glass — possibly a Fresnel lens
  • Flashlight with batteries, preferably with a blinker

• Metal dining utensils (that can be sanitized before and after use)

• Fire starters — at least one of:

  • Strike anywhere matches in a waterproof safe
  • Firestarting piston
  • Disposable lighter
  • Magnesium/flintbar

• Water

  • Personal water filter
  • Water purifying straw
  • Water purification tablets

• Several sheets of paper and a pencil

• A bottle of alcohol. Distilled, drinkable grain alcohol is best.

• Medicine / Health

  • Anti-diarrheals
  • Aspirin
  • Antihistimines — to counter allergic reactions
  • Any other drugs you personally need to stay alive
  • Scalpel blades
  • Sunscreen
  • Suture kit

• Homemade soda can stove

• 5 pounds of gorp (“good old raisins and peanuts”)

• Emergency blanket

• Ziploc Baggies

• Camelback water reservoir recently filled with known good water

• 100 feet of parachute cord

• Wool cloth. Two shirtweight pieces 45"X 72". One heavier weight 60"X108". These are your clothes, your hammock, your chair, your carryall, etc. Do not substitute cotton!

• Three yards of 36" wide cotton could come in handy as well. This is your hat, your belt, your shoulder bag, your sling, etc.

• Clothing

  • Two pair of wool socks
  • Waterproof, windproof shell or parka. Yes, even if you’re in a tropical zone.
  • Work gloves for digging through post-disaster rubble
  • A warm hat

• A pennywhistle or any other tiny musical instrument. If you can turn a disaster into a party, your odds of survival will go up.

• Signalling

  • Referee’s whistle
  • Mirror
  • Mini LED flashlight

• Money — your eventual goal is to get back to civilization

• Repairs

  • Mini roll of duct tape
  • Sewing needle and thread
  • Safety pins

• 9’x7’ painting tarp (to make a tent) or a few trashbags

• Slingshot kit — can be used to kill small game or fish

We got a used piano a few months ago. After we cleaned it and put it where we wanted it, I played a few short songs (poorly). Throughout the rest of the day, we’d occasionally hear one of the kids hitting a few keys and laughing.

Several hours later, Jake came up to me with some bad news:

Jake: Daddy, I think the piano’s broken.

Me, alarmed: Why? What happened?

Jake, upset: I pressed all the keys, but it didn’t make the right music come out.

Gabby was in the preschool at Christ Lutheran School, and her classroom had a caged parakeet. One day Gabby told me that their bird was dead. Since she was only three years old at the time, I didn’t think she knew what that meant, so I asked her about it:

Me: What do you mean, dead?

Gabby: I mean, the bird died.

Me: But what do you mean when you say that it died?

Gabby: It began to stink, so my teacher had to put it in a box and bury it.

Oh. I guess she knew what she was talking about after all.

Well, today was the big day — Jake and Ari had their tonsils removed. The doctor said Jake’s were nearly as large as golf balls, so the poor little guy had to have been miserable.

The operations went off without a hitch, and they’re both recovering nicely (if irritably) at home.