In the house, we have two water reservoirs happening in the attics. (Attics? Plural? Yes. Move on.) Since nobody or nothing goes near them, we haven't given much thought to them, other than a monthly check (and drain when they approach maximum capacity). Despite that, my wife asked me the other day what happens if one springs a leak? Well, we have patch kits for bicycle tires. Those would work. So, now we keep a patch kit in the attic.
That night, I got to thinking, that yes, we could, in the very unlikely situation where a small hole develops in one of the mattresses, fix the hole. A tear, unfortunately, would be catastrophic to the mattress. It's even more unlikely, but, as Lloyd said in Dumb 'n Dumber, "So you're saying there's a chance!" I went out and bought two more king-sized mattresses. Then, when I got home and put them away, I went out and bought two more of every other part of the system. And changed the filters, too.
And since it's still fresh in my mind, I should mention the other attic situation: our food supply. Yes, canned/jarred food can last quite some time. But if you don't use it before it "expires", then it's just waste. So, we are rotating out old food and bringing in fresh. If we fall behind in our rotation (because we're sick of eating something), then the local food bank benefits. (No, the food hasn't spoiled when they get it.) One thing this has helped us do, however, is to prepare a more varied survival menu. It's not all beans, peaches, and creamed corn up there.
I bet you're now asking yourself why he even bothers with the house when he's got a Northern Fortress. The answer is simple: most zombie outbreaks won't be Armageddon. We can stay at home, and survive, for up to a year in our home. At any point before then, we can make the pilgrimage up North. In fact, re-reading the survival guide, I was reminded that doing just that is recommended. We've all seen catastrophe movies where everybody is trying to get out of town at the same time. What good comes from that, unless you're at the front of the line? Nothing. Traffic jams. Panic. Looting. Mob mentality. It all adds up to zombie smorgasbord. Your best bet is to wait it out. Any trip to the North, won't happen immediately. No, we'll sit tight, hold the fort, and keep the home fires burning. If we're not up North in a year? Call the president.
In the previous post, I spoke about electrical needs. I wasn't clear on one item, and completely skipped another.
The "hydro-electric" system we've installed isn't the Hoover Dam. It's not even "small scale". There's a name for it: micro hydro. On a good day, we're generating close to 40kw. To put that in perspective, my home, in the winter, averages about 60kw/h per day. I'm pretty frugal with the heat and lights, too. The best use for it, we've found, is to keep the batteries charged up to early winter and after early spring. (The stream is just small enough to almost completely freeze up in the winter, that far North.) We might be able to improve on the system, but as it stands, there's no need.
The one thing I forgot to mention regarding electricity is the human-dynamo element. We have a few stationary bikes set up so that if you want to watch TV, or listen to music, or use a computer, then you must sit on the bike. There's also a mandatory 60 minute "ride" that everybody must do, every day. Not only does this help top up batteries (if you're not doing one of the aforementioned activities), but it also helps with the old cardiovascular system.
Next update I'll talk about escape planning.
Saturday, December 03, 2011
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Part 12 - Annual Update
So, it's been a little over a year since the last update, and I have nothing to report other than good news.
First, no zombies. The whole point of this endeavor is to survive Ol' Zeke. But he hasn't shown up. We don't mind that a bit.
If anything, as I'm pretty sure I've mentioned previously, at least we're now prepared for more natural disasters, such as a catastrophic earthquake.
Second, not that we expected an epidemic to occur any time soon, but the fact that all is quiet has allowed us to not only get things up and running, but also to allow us time to work the kinks out.
We've managed to get the the Compound set up so that between the outerwall and the surrounding forest, we have moats, and a good 25m of clearing. Since zombies don't walk faster than your grandparents (or great-grandparents), that 25m gap gives us ample time to react to an assault. People can cross that distance in 3 or 4 seconds, but that still gives us time to get prepared.
Winter, last year, was interesting because we weren't sure how the livestock would be. It gets very cold at the compound and they get a lot of snow. Turns out, everything went reasonably well. It probably wouldn't hurt, however, to get some sort of heating system in the barns/pens. Right now, it's shelter from the elements, but that's it. Animals are hearty, but if you're going to rely on them for survival, you might as well make them comfortable. (No AC in the summer, though.)
We've discovered that there's a lake not too far from the Compound that has some pretty good fishing. By "not too far", I mean by car/motorcycle. It's a decent bicycle ride, but also a fairly long walk. There's also a small river that leads to the lake that is a good recreational site. Slow moving in some areas, and small rapids in others. Neither are too far from the Compound, as long as we know that hell has not come to Earth. As long as all is clear, we've actually got a really nice summer retreat. Everybody's getting to know the lay of the land, too.
One thing that was brought up, recently, was that we can swim in the lake, and in some parts of the river, but what happens if there's an outbreak and we don't leave the walls of the Compound? How will young children learn the very important lesson (and survival skill) of swimming? Well, that lead us to the decision that we should make a relatively small outdoor pool. Fortunately, we've done so well with our "farm revenue" that a majority decision was made to turn the outdoor pool into an indoor pool. Nothing fancy, but enough that it is still somewhat useable in the winter. (We haven't discovered any geothermal activity in the area, so heating a pool to any great degree just isn't feasible. On the other hand, using wetsuits are an option.)
So, speaking of farm revenue, we have an abundance of milk. As previously posted, a single milk-producing cow can make more milk in a day than most people can use. While we're in "peace time" and there are only a few people living on the Compound at any one time, one of the caretakers got it in their head that instead of selling off the excess milk, why not use some of it to get into simple dairy product production. They've started making butter, a couple types of cheeses, yogurt, and ice cream. For the latter two, there are plenty of berries that can be found in the wilderness. Makes for some tasty treats. Other than the ice cream, all the others are being sold to local markets (which are not very local, really) for a decent little profit.
Additional to the dairy revenue stream, we've already butchered some pigs and chickens and sold them, too. Eggs, as well. We're not quite ready for beef, but that's okay. We're doing quite well.
That last statement requires a disclaimer: We're doing well considering nobody is having to support a family or business in a large city with the revenue. It's really just a matter of thinking of it as "bonus" money. It just lessens the burden that this endeavor has placed on all of us so we can put more of our income into the mortgage and taxes, than into improvements. (Like the pool.)
Other developments at the Compound involve power generation. During the warmer months, we get a decent amount of sunshine, so every roof has solar panels on them. Additionally, there is a small stream that runs through the property, and we've turned that into a small hydro-electric generating system. The small dam allows us create a decent-sized reservoir for livestock, but also helps supplement power in the early spring when there's lots of run-off and not a lot of sunshine.
There isn't much of a drain on power since only a few people are on site at any given time, but tests show that we have more than enough battery power to get us through most of the year, even with a larger population to support. Although there is wind, there isn't enough in the area to support a wind-turbine. There's a small hill not too far from the Compound that could likely support a couple windmills, but the distance plays a factor as we couldn't generate enough voltage to get the power back to the Compound. Perhaps a vibro-wind generator would work within the Compound.
Recently, one of our people started looking into beekeeping. Nothing's happened at the Compound, but a small population of bees would be great for honey and the pollination of the crops. We've got more than enough space to not have to worry about bee stings from a small colony of bee hives.
Speaking of crops, that's the toughest part of this. We're fairly far north, so not a lot wants to grow. (It wasn't farmland to begin with, either.) The good news is we're creating a lot of compost, which, in turn, can be used back in the soil to make things easier to grow. Greenhouses are becoming an ever-increasingly popular option. It's not so much that we can't get anything to grow, far from it. It's that we're trying to grow a wide variety of things. Part of it for crop rotation, but mostly for the variety of our diet.
While we don't currently have enough living units to support our initial population, currently less than half, we're about to break ground on a few new bungalows. The plan is to have a variety of living quarters, but each is suited (within reason) to each couples' specifications. None will be more than 2 floors, and those with 2 floors must have a below-grade basement as one of the floors; we don't want "highrises" to be visible from over the walls. Although more or less situated in the middle of the land, they're as spaced out as far as possible, to allow for more privacy, fire safety, and less of a burden on the underground water supplies (we try not to rely upon the stream).
There's a central communal building for socializing and business matters, as well as learning and health care. In the basement of that building, deeper than normal, is a shop for metal and wood works. When all the doors are closed to the basement, nothing can be heard above ground. Once it's all complete, that is. Early tests show that it's pretty well sound-insulated, but the building is not completed, yet.
We've all taught our children to refer to this place, when they speak of it, as a "summer cottage", and that there's "a farm nearby". None of which is a lie, but it's misleading enough that people don't inquire much further. (We don't speak about which towns are nearby, so the only thing the children can say is "it's up north, somewhere.")
First, no zombies. The whole point of this endeavor is to survive Ol' Zeke. But he hasn't shown up. We don't mind that a bit.
If anything, as I'm pretty sure I've mentioned previously, at least we're now prepared for more natural disasters, such as a catastrophic earthquake.
Second, not that we expected an epidemic to occur any time soon, but the fact that all is quiet has allowed us to not only get things up and running, but also to allow us time to work the kinks out.
We've managed to get the the Compound set up so that between the outerwall and the surrounding forest, we have moats, and a good 25m of clearing. Since zombies don't walk faster than your grandparents (or great-grandparents), that 25m gap gives us ample time to react to an assault. People can cross that distance in 3 or 4 seconds, but that still gives us time to get prepared.
Winter, last year, was interesting because we weren't sure how the livestock would be. It gets very cold at the compound and they get a lot of snow. Turns out, everything went reasonably well. It probably wouldn't hurt, however, to get some sort of heating system in the barns/pens. Right now, it's shelter from the elements, but that's it. Animals are hearty, but if you're going to rely on them for survival, you might as well make them comfortable. (No AC in the summer, though.)
We've discovered that there's a lake not too far from the Compound that has some pretty good fishing. By "not too far", I mean by car/motorcycle. It's a decent bicycle ride, but also a fairly long walk. There's also a small river that leads to the lake that is a good recreational site. Slow moving in some areas, and small rapids in others. Neither are too far from the Compound, as long as we know that hell has not come to Earth. As long as all is clear, we've actually got a really nice summer retreat. Everybody's getting to know the lay of the land, too.
One thing that was brought up, recently, was that we can swim in the lake, and in some parts of the river, but what happens if there's an outbreak and we don't leave the walls of the Compound? How will young children learn the very important lesson (and survival skill) of swimming? Well, that lead us to the decision that we should make a relatively small outdoor pool. Fortunately, we've done so well with our "farm revenue" that a majority decision was made to turn the outdoor pool into an indoor pool. Nothing fancy, but enough that it is still somewhat useable in the winter. (We haven't discovered any geothermal activity in the area, so heating a pool to any great degree just isn't feasible. On the other hand, using wetsuits are an option.)
So, speaking of farm revenue, we have an abundance of milk. As previously posted, a single milk-producing cow can make more milk in a day than most people can use. While we're in "peace time" and there are only a few people living on the Compound at any one time, one of the caretakers got it in their head that instead of selling off the excess milk, why not use some of it to get into simple dairy product production. They've started making butter, a couple types of cheeses, yogurt, and ice cream. For the latter two, there are plenty of berries that can be found in the wilderness. Makes for some tasty treats. Other than the ice cream, all the others are being sold to local markets (which are not very local, really) for a decent little profit.
Additional to the dairy revenue stream, we've already butchered some pigs and chickens and sold them, too. Eggs, as well. We're not quite ready for beef, but that's okay. We're doing quite well.
That last statement requires a disclaimer: We're doing well considering nobody is having to support a family or business in a large city with the revenue. It's really just a matter of thinking of it as "bonus" money. It just lessens the burden that this endeavor has placed on all of us so we can put more of our income into the mortgage and taxes, than into improvements. (Like the pool.)
Other developments at the Compound involve power generation. During the warmer months, we get a decent amount of sunshine, so every roof has solar panels on them. Additionally, there is a small stream that runs through the property, and we've turned that into a small hydro-electric generating system. The small dam allows us create a decent-sized reservoir for livestock, but also helps supplement power in the early spring when there's lots of run-off and not a lot of sunshine.
There isn't much of a drain on power since only a few people are on site at any given time, but tests show that we have more than enough battery power to get us through most of the year, even with a larger population to support. Although there is wind, there isn't enough in the area to support a wind-turbine. There's a small hill not too far from the Compound that could likely support a couple windmills, but the distance plays a factor as we couldn't generate enough voltage to get the power back to the Compound. Perhaps a vibro-wind generator would work within the Compound.
Recently, one of our people started looking into beekeeping. Nothing's happened at the Compound, but a small population of bees would be great for honey and the pollination of the crops. We've got more than enough space to not have to worry about bee stings from a small colony of bee hives.
Speaking of crops, that's the toughest part of this. We're fairly far north, so not a lot wants to grow. (It wasn't farmland to begin with, either.) The good news is we're creating a lot of compost, which, in turn, can be used back in the soil to make things easier to grow. Greenhouses are becoming an ever-increasingly popular option. It's not so much that we can't get anything to grow, far from it. It's that we're trying to grow a wide variety of things. Part of it for crop rotation, but mostly for the variety of our diet.
While we don't currently have enough living units to support our initial population, currently less than half, we're about to break ground on a few new bungalows. The plan is to have a variety of living quarters, but each is suited (within reason) to each couples' specifications. None will be more than 2 floors, and those with 2 floors must have a below-grade basement as one of the floors; we don't want "highrises" to be visible from over the walls. Although more or less situated in the middle of the land, they're as spaced out as far as possible, to allow for more privacy, fire safety, and less of a burden on the underground water supplies (we try not to rely upon the stream).
There's a central communal building for socializing and business matters, as well as learning and health care. In the basement of that building, deeper than normal, is a shop for metal and wood works. When all the doors are closed to the basement, nothing can be heard above ground. Once it's all complete, that is. Early tests show that it's pretty well sound-insulated, but the building is not completed, yet.
We've all taught our children to refer to this place, when they speak of it, as a "summer cottage", and that there's "a farm nearby". None of which is a lie, but it's misleading enough that people don't inquire much further. (We don't speak about which towns are nearby, so the only thing the children can say is "it's up north, somewhere.")
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