premium in the world. I salivated at the thought of the fish and could use the conditioning of this type of meal every day. I ventured into the cellar to check on prepared and curing meat.
It was cool and dark down in the cellar and my torch, getting increasingly weaker, almost gave out as I retrieved a solid helping of trout. My meat cupboard was such a good find. Someone in Tantangara had an antique meat cupboard being used as a bookshelf. I had read a book only weeks before that had depicted one of these antique items that were used prior to refrigeration. It used clever evaporative techniques. I had been prospecting through a house when I had noticed it, to my great luck. This little cupboard come bookshelf was something whimsical, funky, retro or curious to someone and yet it had meant survival to me. "How my priorities have changed."
That little meat cupboard had been lovingly loaded into an old four-wheel drive I had acquired. With great confidence and high hopes, that four-wheeler almost got me home until it broke down. The vehicle would make a good emergency shelter, around two-thirds of the way home from Tantangara. The situation had left me a long way from home with a cupboard I would have to carry. I smiled at the memory and recalled the hard work to getting the cupboard home. That last stretch of road felt like forever and I had to strap the heavy piece of furniture to my back. Every hard step of the way, the straps rubbed and muscles burned. It was worth it as the cupboard had given my food more longevity and in turn, the same gift to me.
As my torch flickered and almost went out and my mouth stopped chewing, ending my smoked trout supply, I realised I needed more supplies.
I was running low on some simple things; soap, tissues, toilet paper, batteries, toothpaste, packaged and canned things, everything really. My diet had become very Palaeolithic and raw because of it. My stomach growled and I was hit with the realisation that I needed to go into Tantangara. I had been putting it off for some time as I had fared pretty badly in the last run into that town by the lake. While I had cleared my home of many of the roaming zombies, Tantangara was something else. Where there had been large populations of people, there were large populations of zombies- simple.
My torch went out, just to hammer things home, and it reinforced my resolve that my next trip was into Tantangara for supplies. The thought made me nervous and uncomfortable and I fumbled with the torch. I regained my composure and turned the batteries around in the dark; got it working weakly. "Whew," the relief of not being completely in the dark. I had been hiding away up at home for some time and had long before run out of toilet paper. I had found an alternative in great supply; used office paper. So many people had so much crap printed out on old office paper; it was readily available and readily used. All that printed crap was good for, well, crap. I had an oil change tray that had never been used for its intended purpose. I used it to soak sheets of used office paper in water. The paper would go soft and was OK on the face as a tissue or to wipe your rear end. It wasn’t ideal but it was clean and could be left to dry and then burned. I flushed the toilet without putting the paper in it. The paper went into a plastic bag. Much like when I holidayed in Greece many years ago. I would say it was “doing it Greek” but that would give people the wrong impression of me. Anyway, my paper situation worked for me. Toilet paper, tissues, baby wipes, paper towel were all luxuries, if you could find them. Even my office paper and associated plastic bags were running low. I needed to go “shopping” in Tantangara.
"Tomorrow," I told myself. "Tomorrow I go to Tantangara. Today, I will go fishing, prep some food and get my kit ready for the trip." The plan was in motion and I gave myself a little space to deal with the emotions of going back
It was cool and dark down in the cellar and my torch, getting increasingly weaker, almost gave out as I retrieved a solid helping of trout. My meat cupboard was such a good find. Someone in Tantangara had an antique meat cupboard being used as a bookshelf. I had read a book only weeks before that had depicted one of these antique items that were used prior to refrigeration. It used clever evaporative techniques. I had been prospecting through a house when I had noticed it, to my great luck. This little cupboard come bookshelf was something whimsical, funky, retro or curious to someone and yet it had meant survival to me. "How my priorities have changed."
That little meat cupboard had been lovingly loaded into an old four-wheel drive I had acquired. With great confidence and high hopes, that four-wheeler almost got me home until it broke down. The vehicle would make a good emergency shelter, around two-thirds of the way home from Tantangara. The situation had left me a long way from home with a cupboard I would have to carry. I smiled at the memory and recalled the hard work to getting the cupboard home. That last stretch of road felt like forever and I had to strap the heavy piece of furniture to my back. Every hard step of the way, the straps rubbed and muscles burned. It was worth it as the cupboard had given my food more longevity and in turn, the same gift to me.
As my torch flickered and almost went out and my mouth stopped chewing, ending my smoked trout supply, I realised I needed more supplies.
I was running low on some simple things; soap, tissues, toilet paper, batteries, toothpaste, packaged and canned things, everything really. My diet had become very Palaeolithic and raw because of it. My stomach growled and I was hit with the realisation that I needed to go into Tantangara. I had been putting it off for some time as I had fared pretty badly in the last run into that town by the lake. While I had cleared my home of many of the roaming zombies, Tantangara was something else. Where there had been large populations of people, there were large populations of zombies- simple.
My torch went out, just to hammer things home, and it reinforced my resolve that my next trip was into Tantangara for supplies. The thought made me nervous and uncomfortable and I fumbled with the torch. I regained my composure and turned the batteries around in the dark; got it working weakly. "Whew," the relief of not being completely in the dark. I had been hiding away up at home for some time and had long before run out of toilet paper. I had found an alternative in great supply; used office paper. So many people had so much crap printed out on old office paper; it was readily available and readily used. All that printed crap was good for, well, crap. I had an oil change tray that had never been used for its intended purpose. I used it to soak sheets of used office paper in water. The paper would go soft and was OK on the face as a tissue or to wipe your rear end. It wasn’t ideal but it was clean and could be left to dry and then burned. I flushed the toilet without putting the paper in it. The paper went into a plastic bag. Much like when I holidayed in Greece many years ago. I would say it was “doing it Greek” but that would give people the wrong impression of me. Anyway, my paper situation worked for me. Toilet paper, tissues, baby wipes, paper towel were all luxuries, if you could find them. Even my office paper and associated plastic bags were running low. I needed to go “shopping” in Tantangara.
"Tomorrow," I told myself. "Tomorrow I go to Tantangara. Today, I will go fishing, prep some food and get my kit ready for the trip." The plan was in motion and I gave myself a little space to deal with the emotions of going back
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