Survival of the yummiest

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Once upon a time, I thought it'd be fun to read all of Douglas Adam's HITCHHIKER'S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY books back-to-back. This may have been the period in which my mind broke. By the time I was finished, I wasn't fit to exist in this galaxy any more. Also, I've never been able to think about the series again without the urge to hold onto a towel for dear life. You never know when you'll need one.

I made the plunge into the world of ebooks this Christmas. Hubster got me a Kindle. Then there was a blizzard (He says it wasn't technically a blizzard, just blizzard-like conditions. I don't know what that means. I say, "Grab a towel and your Kindle!"). Needless to say, I was trapped in my home with a Kindle and wifi. Here's where I have to hand it to ebooks. I made it to the library without actually leaving my house.

Apparently, lots of other people got Kindles and were trapped, too. The only YA books I could get were dystopian-apocalyptic-survival type stories.

I'm pretty sure the world is ending tomorrow.

At this point, I'm totally rethinking my whole/local foods philosophy. There aren't many nonperishables in my home. What am I supposed to do when my two cans of Rotel run out? Then what, people? How will we survive without salsa?

To make matters worse, I took the kids to Conner Prairie, an interactive historical museum, where we learned about winter survival. We saw how frontiersmen survived by trapping and building lean-to's and skinning animals. We took a poll on which fur was softer: bobcat, deer, otter, or skunk. I was slightly disappointed they weren't actually teaching me how to skin the animals myself, because what if I run across a skunk and I need to skin it and make a little sweater out of its pelt? What if a skunk sweater is all that comes between me and one of my kids freezing to death?

By the time we got to the fire making demonstration, I had come unhinged. The fire-starter guy asked the group, "How would you make a fire?"

I rolled my eyes, "By flipping the switch next to the fireplace. Sheesh!" I chuckled like my fabulous sense of humor would keep me warm in an ASHEN WINTER.

It was at this point that he gave me a look that screamed, "In the post-apocalypic world, you will be useless, except possibly for consumption."

Yep. I'm a humanburger. Nothing more.

When Hubster came home from work, I demanded he help me make char cloth, which you apparently need to make fires with flint and steel. I was moments away from flicking the switch on our fireplace and tossing in a tin can filled with the shredded remains of the unflattering linen pants I'd bought last spring (because, for those of you not in the know, that's how you make char cloth), but he convinced me it may be better to use the charcoal grill. So when the snow melts, and I can find the grill in our backyard, it's flame-on ugly linen pants!

The sad thing is, now that I've started, I can't stop reading these books. I'm making mental lists of all the things I need to do to survive. I lie in bed at night and run through as many survival scenarios as I can think of. Most of the time, I can save at least the kids. Sometimes even the dog gets lucky. Hubster's on his own. But every time, I don't make it out alive. Which just means, I've got to keep preparing.

And reading. Must keep reading dystopian YA. It is imperative to my survival.

Whether it's zombies (Thanks, Rob), firemen that start the fires (FAHRENHEIT 451, which may not technically qualify as post-apocalyptic, but if there are no books, then there is no life in my world), broken moons (LIFE AS WE KNEW IT), or radioactive comets in cahoots with nuclear power plants (GONE), I'm determined to be prepared.

When you see me walking the streets with a towel as a turban, you'll know -- this is one humanburger who doesn't plan to go down without a fight!