M E R I D I A N M A G A Z I N E
Taking Stock
By Susan Law Corpany
This has been a very eventful week on the Big Island of Hawaii. We were under watch for Hurricane Flossie, who at her strongest was a category four. (I guess they’ve run out of people names and are naming them after cows now. We’ll start gearing up now for Hurricane Gertie.)
While waiting for Flossie, we had a small earthquake, shaking us up a bit. Then, after the hurricane had skirted south and west of us, we were under a tsunami watch for a few hours as a result of an earthquake in Peru.
This triple-header has caused me to take stock of my 72-hour emergency kit. For the benefit of the organizationally-challenged procrastinators like myself out there, I am going to inventory what I might have been surviving on this week had any of these events caused an evacuation.
Until I took inventory of my individual kit, I felt morally superior to the hordes of people snatching flashlights off the shelves at Wal-Mart and grabbing the last cases of bottled water from Safeway. I was prepared, or at least I had the illusion that I was prepared. Here is what I found when opening my 72-hour backpack.
One box of TownHouse crackers, original light buttery flavor. I ate half of one cracker. It was stale, limp and had a somewhat rancid taste. I tossed the rest.
One jar of Safeway chunky peanut butter. The peanut butter tasted okay. Of course, it was to go with the aforementioned crackers, but it wouldn’t be the first time I have eaten peanut butter straight from the jar. I will rotate this into the pantry and replace it.
Motts Serving Size Applesauce. These were marked 10/05, as were most of the items in my kit. I am so proud of myself for marking things, but I didn’t really think it had been two years. The applesauce didn’t smell bad, and nothing appeared to be growing on it, so I took one small bite. I think I might have been able to eat this to stay alive, but to be on the safe side, I am disposing of the applesauce. Having lived through the aforementioned almost-events, I do not want to die from eating tainted emergency supplies.
Inflatable Airplane Pillow. Still holds air. This might be the only thing in my kit that is still useful.
Flip Top Can of Dole Mandarin Oranges. The oranges tasted fine. They will go well with the peanut butter.
Six Bottles of Mountain Spring Water. The water tasted like, well, water. If I get sick, I’ll mention it next column.
Six Nutri-Grain Cereal Bars. Three raspberry. Three apple cinnamon. Judging by the outward appearance, straight to the garbage can with these, all marked 10/05. Ditto on the four Nature Valley Trail Mix Bars. There goes breakfast.
Two boxes of Yogurt Raisins. The way the boxes looked, no way was I eating what was inside. In fact, I didn’t even look inside.
One Can French’s Original French
Fried Onions. The can was marked with a March of 2006 expiration
date. These were actually still edible. I ate two. Perhaps they had lost some
of their original crisp, but I could eat these in a pinch.
Two cans of Carnation evaporated milk. The milk had a somewhat
darker than usual appearance. The taste wasn’t too bad. It was somewhat
thicker and settled on the bottom of the can, but it would be drinkable in
an emergency. However, I tossed it just to be on the safe side. Also, my electric
can opener came in handy. I think that somewhere in our family supplies I
have utensils and can openers, but not apparently in the individual packs.
I am going to use my lack of a can opener as an excuse not to evaluate the three cans of soup, also marked 10/05.
One Can of Spam with Cheese. Spam is a favorite here in Hawaii, so I added some to our emergency supplies. The label said 10/05, but the can had an expiration of May 2008. However, I found the gelatinous appearance suspect. It could be growing. On the other hand, it could just be Spam.
First Aid Supplies. What I had would be sufficient for minor injuries. I have twelve Band-aids in assorted sizes and three SpongeBob Squarepants First-Aid Pocket Pal kits, left over from a Primary project. They each contain a wipe, antibiotic ointment and a Band-Aid. (I’ll be fine as long as I don’t have any big owies.)
Toiletries. I had two small tubes of toothpaste. No toothbrush was included. I had sufficient female products. I have a container of Purell Hand Sanitizer, with which I will be able to clean my hands after eating peanut butter from the jar, since I have yet to come across any utensils in this kit. I have five SightSavers for cleaning my glasses, one pocket pack of Kleenexes, shampoo, soap, deodorant, some aspirin and a package of Charmin To Go. It contains 55 sheets of one-ply. Do the math.
Elsewhere we have bottled water, lots of flashlights, lots of batteries, and I hope that some of them will work. We have a hand-cranked radio and some Sterno and some propane lanterns. But if I had had to separate from my family and had been left with only what I was packing in my emergency kit, I would not have been a happy camper.
Capitol One asks: “What’s in your wallet?” I would like to challenge all my readers to ask themselves “What’s in your emergency kit?” It may contain a few surprises, as did mine.
I decided that if I punished myself by actually
trying some of the food, maybe it would be motivational and help me to remember
to rotate supplies more often than every two years. My visiting niece just
told me that some people in her ward take inventory of their emergency supplies
every general conference weekend. (I am including her suggestion in this column
in exchange for not making her a Spam sandwich for lunch.)
We are told if we are prepared, we need not fear. I don’t know about
you, but I’m a little scared at present.
© 2007 Meridian Magazine. All Rights Reserved.