My brother is visiting from California with my niece this week. He lives in the high desert in the Owen’s Valley, but he frequently visits the in-laws in Newport Beach, and he suffers from the misapprehension that beaches are inviting places with soft sand and warm waves. We fixed that with a visit to a real Connecticut beach.
I had a blow-out kit review performed by a “professional”. My cousin is a 1st Lieutenant in the Army, a trained combat medic, and a civilian paramedic with over 25 years of experience in one of the busiest metro areas in the country. Amongst other great conversation, I threw him my blow-out kit off my chest rig and asked for an honest assessment. Here is his candid feedback.
I came across this screen saver on a recent trip to a Big City hospital:
Last night as I lay trying to get to sleep, I heard my oldest daughter Grace (I’ve code named her Blair before, but trust me – Grace is funnier) come into the room. Mrs. P was still up reading, and through the haze of almost sleep, I heard Grace reporting that she burned herself with the hot glue gun. Now, this is like the fourth time Grace has burned herself with that liquid lava dispenser. I’m not sure what it […]
My oldest daughter should really not be allowed to use dangerous things. Like glue guns. Apparently, those things are really hot. And last night, she managed to deposit a bit of glue on her fingers. She did the right thing – cold water, and plenty of it. Still, being glue it stuck pretty fast, and despite her quick action she got a couple of partial-thickness burns – what they used to call second degree. They weren’t that big, but being […]
I recently covered my first attempt at building a blow-out kit, and came up with something workable, but a bit too bulky for the missions for which it was intended. I decided to make another attempt, and version 2.0 seems like a winner – but only because I redefined the mission.
I grew up in an old Italian neighborhood where most of the Men (and I mean capital “M”en) grew up in the Great Depression, fought in WWII, and never forgot the lessons of their parents. They were gritty Men, hard as nails (or maybe in the story below, not quite as hard). On their 1/10th-acre city lots they grew front-yard gardens, kept chickens in the backyard, canned, hunted, fished, made wine, provided for their families, and were a fixture in […]
After my recent fight with my chainsaw, which thankfully I won, I decided that I shouldn’t participate in any potentially limb-severing homestead activities until properly equipped for self rescue. Brother Harold and I took a rescue course some months back where we learned the proper use of the supplies in a blow-out kit, and it seems like a perfect time to put this newly acquired knowledge into action.
In part 1 and part 2 of this series, I discussed a few of my thoughts on preventing infection from a pandemic flu virus, and a few options for treatment in the austere environment created by a self-imposed (or government-mandated) quarantine. Now I’d like to tie everything together with a coherent plan to deal with a pandemic. Even if you’re not convinced that a pandemic is a metaphysical certainty like I am, the preps you put in place for a […]
I sharpened Mrs. P’s chef’s knife the other day. Tonight, the knife fought back and gave her a good nick on the thumb while she was carving up a roast chicken for dinner. Some direct pressure with a hastily grabbed paper towel after a quick rinse with soap and water to get rid of the worst of the chicken grease, and she sat down while we took over the dinner chores.