Friday, November 13, 2009

The Ten Commandments of the Field

Fernando Stankuns photo courtesy Flickr

Climbers organize their lives around an emergency kit known as the ten essentials. My outdoor experience is limited, but I accompanied climbers to base camps on my first hikes. Those early days in the field formed my sense of household, and the climbers’ core collection remains the heart of inventory.

Gear falls under one of ten categories: tool, fire, water, food, clothing, shelter, medical, navigation, communication, and transportation. Do not underestimate the value of these headings: they are the key to thinking straight about what to own and what to buy.

When Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans, I joined a friend at our favorite dive to drink breakfast and pray for the city. Katie, who had lived there twelve years, said that the people of New Orleans had no field skills and no place to learn them. For that morning, my friend put aside her running joke about how every native Seattle woman has her own chain saw.

Specific items for the field change with technology and the mission. The following is a list of featherweight accessories to carry any time you’re beyond walking distance of home base. They are very good for morale.

Tool: a Swiss Army penknife with tweezers. Airport security makes this expendable. You can improvise a cutting tool by breaking a glass bottle and taping one edge for a handle. Use your head-play safe. Wrap a length of gaffer’s or duct tape around a butane lighter.

Fire: a half-empty butane lighter and a birthday candle.

Water: the bottle is now ubiquitous. Add a small bottle of water purification tablets.

Food: an energy bar or any little something, even a sugar packet or a cellophane packet of crackers.

Clothing: a disposable plastic poncho or plastic garbage bag. Improvise a jacket by cutting arm and neck holes in the bag. Line shoes with produce bags if you get caught in foul weather.

Shelter: a mylar survival blanket, sunscreen, and dark glasses. Carry cash, traveler’s checks, credit card, and spare batteries to use as currency.

Medical: hand sanitizer, a couple of bandages, a needle, pocket tissues, and extra meds.

Navigation: a pinch light with extra battery, spare glasses, and local map.

Communication: a whistle painfully loud in sound and color, a one-inch length of black wax lumber crayon, change for a pay phone with out-of-state contact numbers taped to the back of your principal ID. Lie down to wave at a plane.

Transportation: first-rate foot gear with good insoles and socks for the weather plus the right side bag for daily necessities.

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More after the jump.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Blackout

Pedrorocha photo courtesy Flickr
When the lights go out, make sure yours stay on.

Wherever you live, have at least a small store of food that’s ready to eat and light that is independent of the grid. In housekeeping, conservative social customs are founded on archaic technology, so emergency preparedness, elegance, and green practice go hand in hand.

Minimal lighting is a birthday candle plus a book of matches. Build on this base with a hiker’s telescoping candle lantern and beeswax candle. I suspend one from the pot rack over the sink, and the rare blackout is a mere hiccup in routine. The candle freshens the air in the kitchen, too. When we’re in the field, it’s good to have a familiar fixture on the table.

Trail runners carry a half-full butane lighter, and one lives in my purse as part of the emergency kit I carry any time I’ll be more than a few blocks from the house. This is earthquake country.

When the power goes off, there’s always an increased risk of fire from temporary measures, so plan fail-safe arrangements and make low-tech a familiar routine. Snuff a candle if you leave the room. The heavy glass snowballs that display tea lights are the most stable bases for candles. Faceted canning jars are a good second choice.

Keep the windows clean. That’s good for morale all year around and especially important in an emergency. Regular dusting with a high-tech cleaning cloth keeps windows happy. Just wipe them with alcohol if they need more attention.

Keep a pantry stocked with dry or canned foods. That will lower the utility bill and make your life support system resilient. An early edition of the Joy of Cooking or another pre-World War Two cookbook will give you a tour of American cuisine before the whole country was electrified.

Cook with care, of course. If you have a hearth, that’s what it’s for. A hiker’s propane stove is ideal. I fry with one on the back porch any time I want fierce, immediate heat. If you live in an apartment with no access outdoors, cook in the sink for safety and keep a window open. Keep a box of baking soda or a fire extinguisher between the stove and the exit. The elegant, old-fashioned chafing dish used to prepare and present dishes in the dining room is nothing more than a portable stove. They turn up quite often in thrift shops. Every grocer sells the solid alcohol that fuels one. You could set a couple of fireproof props in the sink, light some alcohol between them, and cook dinner that way.

Trying to feed a couple of yowling toddlers under emergency conditions tests character in unwelcome ways, so keep your ordinary routine close to an emergency one. Serve dry bread now and then, like the Scandinavian hardtack that keeps so well, present simple slices of cheese, use canned vegetables from time to time in a chef’s salad, and when the power goes off, the only change in procedure will be to heat canned soup over portable fuel.

A blackout will reveal the virtues of the low-tech recording medium known as the written (or printed) word. People used to call them “books”.

Keeping a laptop alive in a blackout is a problem I have not had to face, but the hikers’ equipment co-op down the hill sells everything I might need to stay on-line. Telephone systems maintain independent back-up power supplies.

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Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Next Time-A Brief Sequel

Photo courtesy Flickr
Yesterday’s post is a long discussion of how to control dust in the city.

Today’s post is a short discussion of how to keep that space spare, clean, and productive.

Assuming a clean start, simply leave everything you use ready to use again. Piles of stuff are telling you you’re trying to do too much, so decide what to discard. Once you get it right, you’ll have cleanable rooms at the end of every day and a rational pace of production.

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More after the jump.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Urban Fallout

Bruno Pin photo courtesy Flickr
A young friend was grumbling about the crisp and nasty soot particles that accumulate on his San Francisco windowsills. He’s bugged enough to think about giving up a rent-controlled unit that costs half the going rate in a safe neighborhood. That may be a wise ambition, but he’ll be there for a while, so here are some suggestions. The first priority is respecting the landlord’s property.

The situation demands advanced housekeeping. First, if the weather is cool enough, seal the windows. Clean, close and lock them, then roll plastic produce bags and tuck them into any cracks using a screwdriver. If that doesn’t block the dust, cover the entire window frame with flexible plastic, such as a drop cloth, by using dressmaker’s pins or the smallest brads to secure one side of hook and loop tape to the join between window frame and plaster wall. Blunt the tip of a brad with a hammer to reduce the risk of cracking plaster. Test one pin-pounding it carefully into place will probably not damage the wall. Cut the hook and loop tape to half or a third its width to save money. Use the sticky-back that comes with the tape to secure the plastic to it. It may be possible to even the stress on the plastic glazing by heating it carefully with a hair dryer. Test first by taping some of the plastic to a frame, like a cardboard box. This is a low-impact version of nailing a sheet of Plexiglass to a window frame.

If the weather is too warm to seal the window, reduce the dust that enters by mounting old-fashioned sheer nylon curtain fabric on the window. Hook and loop tape would probably work, or make navy curtains by gathering the fabric on upper and lower rods (any dowel will work) and mounting it close to the window. For navy curtains, designed not to flap on a warship, sew a generous hem and then sew another seam close to the hem seam to contain the rod. Test on a sample. The little ruffled header that will appear when the curtain is gathered in place acts as a flexible barrier between curtain and sill. If the budget is very tight, skip the hook and loop tape and fold the fabric a couple of times over a strip of cardboard, then pin discreetly into place.

Sheer curtains are notorious dust traps, and I see no reason not to use that to advantage. They’ll also screen the active street below the window and the neighbors across the way. Wash the fabric before making the curtain, so there will be no unpleasant surprises when it’s washed again. Soak dirty curtains in cold water for an hour before washing, and wash them often. Vacuum them gently to keep them fresh.

Detail the rooms so they will be easy to clean. Wash or dust the ceiling and walls. Use washable high-tech synthetic cleaning cloths or a synthetic dusting wand. Keep a HEPA air filter running while you’re kicking up a dry mess. It may be wise to wear a dust mask. Wash the woodwork, baseboards, and floor. I prefer to use a neutral pH cleaner from a janitorial supply. Get the place truly clean, and then detail the woodwork and floors with paste wax or a synthetic floor polish. Shiny surfaces are easier to dust.

Windows attract dust, so keep them and the moldings around them scrupulously clean, unless they’re sealed. It’s like taking your shoes off when you enter the house. An urban situation might require daily dusting, but it is worth the effort. Keep the HEPA filter running when you’re working, whether you use a vacuum or hand tools. High-tech synthetic cloths are sanity-savers. For this kind of rigor, get rigorous tools. The janitorial community refers to cleaning as the process of diluting dirt. It’s easier to keep a place clean than to get it clean after it’s been neglected.

Manage a dusty home by keeping sills, walls, and floors clear of clutter so they will be easy to maintain. A photographer’s equipment dusting brush makes short work of windows and baseboards when used with a vacuum hose. The glass-front cabinets in my friend’s apartment are there to keep table accessories clean between meals. Old-style housekeepers stripped the table when no one was eating at it. It might make sense to weather-strip the cabinet doors as well as the doors on the kitchen cupboards. Narrow strips of felt adhered with liquid laundry starch may suit cupboard doors better than thicker exterior weather stripping. Starch is easy to reverse. Store nothing on the counters so they can be wiped clean before each cooking session. This is good practice in any kitchen. Wipe the floor daily with a damp cloth.

A housekeeping situation like this one generates self-pity, but it’s a good way to learn the best practice for any home. Living in the heart of town saves so much commuting time that a daily ten-minute cleaning session is still a good deal, considering what it does for one’s standard of living. Wiping the floor every day delays heavy maintenance, since the fine dust that settles in any place abrades the floor when someone walks on it. Dust on windows and sills holds humidity and pollutants that will eventually pit surfaces. It is dust that generates the mysteriously awful finishes on neglected furniture.

Just dust it. Store possessions in the closets. Weather-strip the closet doors to keep the contents clean. Cleanable rooms are also very livable ones. The absence of clutter frees the mind to concentrate and the body to work. Or to party. Dust glass-it’s a magnet for airborne particles.

Similar habits in the bathroom will keep the place fresh and decent all the time. Get the fixtures clean and then just wipe them down with a towel that’s on its way to the laundry. Navy curtains in an air shaft window will take the curse off that dismal view while protecting the room from soot. Wipe the sink after dressing, and you can keep it clean with nothing more than bar soap and a piece of nylon or 0000 steel wool. Test the steel wool in an inconspicuous area. Use a small tuft gently and discard it right away.

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More after the jump.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Carbon First

Kendrick photo courtesy Flickr
Recently, an aunt gave me a small batch of heirlooms. Fitting new possessions into a closely managed collection is like playing musical chairs. Taking a long view of what we do and where we’re going makes it easy to decide what to use, what to store, and what to pass along. The Navy Seals have a rule of thumb: do not let the hardware determine the mission. This one insight produces powerful leverage in managing daily life.

Al Gore’s new work about global warming reminds me that every breath counts, and that a consumer action has consequences for the future. A thing has unavoidable environmental costs built in to it, and that price is worth considering along with the charms of the item itself. It is best, as the Shakers said, to use what one has already before generating something new. FDR’s mother maintained that furnishings that are good enough to buy in the first place are good enough to keep, and certain circles like to have an interior that looks as if it has been accumulated.

In a household, the long haul generates many design choices. What is left after a lifetime’s selection, particularly what is left after elders’ lifetime selections, is a telling record of what works and what doesn’t.

It’s all about energy.

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