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Dear Diary, It’s Me, Jessica: Part 15
Missed the other parts? Find them here:
Check out Part 1
Part 2 is here.
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
Dear Diary,
It’s me, Jessica.
Jack kept militia training short today. It was more like an outdoor classroom instruction. He explained maneuver warfare using several historical examples from the Civil War, World War II, the Korean War, and Vietnam. He used a long stick to draw in the dirt as he described each battle, the ebb and flow, the maneuvers and highlighted significant points.
Diary, I surprised myself by finding it interesting.
Militia training day had become something of . . . not quite a party. More like a community social event with dinner. People would talk, joke, play card games, or corn hole. Sometimes we would sing and dance. This time, someone rolled up a portable basketball hoop and ball, and a pickup game quickly formed. Rae was surprisingly good and aggressive! She held her own even against some of the bigger guys. She told me later they would have pick-up games in the trailer park, and she was the starting forward for the varsity girls’ team in high school. She was offered a basketball scholarship but had to stay home to help her momma take care of her grandfather.
Several people wheeled out their charcoal grills, including Mom and Dad, to heat them up to cook whatever people had brought.
It was still too early to harvest the corn, but it was growing well despite the hot weather and lack of rain. Dad was even concerned about the possibility of our well going dry.
We needed rain.
Other crops people had planted early were coming in: cabbage, beans, cucumbers, tomatoes, beets, carrots, peppers, and more. Mom’s herb garden had absolutely exploded. It never dawned on me how much better food tastes when seasoned with fresh herbs until now. People have been bringing herb mixes, dressings, and rubs that make the food so much better. I never really considered the quality of freshly made food prior to the power going out.
Mr. Miller and Billy rode up on their horses, rifles slug across the saddles before them. I took Mr. Miller’s horse while he went to talk to Jack. Billy and I led the horses to un-saddle them, gave them water, and staked them to a line to graze on the lawn of the abandoned house next to ours. There was plenty for them to eat. They made for good lawnmowers.
We are not sure who determines when dinner is “ready!” and for everyone to grab a plate and whatever utensils they brought with them, but someone would just shout,
“Dinners ready!”
And all would gather for the feast, picking what they liked.
As everyone sat down on camp chairs or rocking chairs, a few just sat on the ground to eat. Jack stood up on a ladder that leaned against our house, a few rungs up for all to see and hear him.
He talked about government, the types he saw in Afghanistan. He offered his opinion but then asked for others’ opinions. Mr. Miller was the first to stand up from the picnic table Dad and Jack carried out from our backyard. The farmers on the outskirts agreed that Mr. Miller would be their representative. He felt a council of people would be best.
Surprisingly, HAM Guy stood up and said, “I second that!”
He then began to explain what he had been hearing on the radio nets of other communities forming their own governments and then a long but intense diatribe of the founding fathers, the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, and a republic. While somewhat rambling, he made enough sense that even I could follow, despite some of the Constitution talk.
Maybe more so.
Once HAM Guy sat down, with a degree of applause from all those gathered, Jack then stood up again and said, “Seems we are mostly agreed to a council. But I think we should put it to a vote. All those in favor, raise your hands.”
There were a lot of hands up.
“Who votes otherwise?”
A few hands went up. Shockingly to me, Joanne was one of them. Jack asked her what she thought.
“I feel a council would bring in a degree of unneeded bureaucracy. A single, strong leader could make decisions better and faster then a group of bickering over a single decision.”
“She has a point.”
That was my own mother who stood up and said that.
But then she said, “On the obverse, we are then dependent on a single strong leader. History has shown us both examples of strong and weak leaders. We need a degree of checks and balances. HAM Guy pointed out the framers of the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, and a republic. I think we need to take that into consideration.”
Mom then sat down, to the applause of many.
Joanne stood up again, “I agree. We would be dependent on a strong leader. The same could be said of strong council members. However, I acknowledge that Mr. Miller, as a representative of the other farmers, needs to be taken into consideration. A council may be better in this case.”
From the rungs on the ladder, Jack asked, “Who do we vote for, for council?”
A number of people shouted out names, to include Jack.
Jack immediately held up a hand and said, “No. I am the militia leader. Being on the council could present problems. Conflicts of interest. We should write up our own Constitution, based on the original, to address these issues.”
Everyone applauded.
HAM Guy again stood up. “Jack is right. The militia should not be involved. A distinct separation of powers. But also a degree of the right of the people and those who make up the militia who, when they feel the council is not acting in their best interest, to replace them.”
He then began to pace back and forth. “We need to take the Constitution and make a few refinements to strengthen it. Like term limits.”
Everyone applauded.
After several intense discussions, an intermission for dessert, and several rounds of votes, the community voted for a council of seven: Mr. Miller, Rae, Joeanne, HAM guy, my own Dad, and two others.
Their priority was to write our own Constitution.
What would that look like I have no idea.
Diary, after listening to HAM Guy, I could be wrong, but I think it might be better than what we had before the power went out.
Entry two
After the meeting had concluded, Rae asked those with children and those who volunteered to teach for the school to stay while others gathered leftovers, said their goodbyes, packed up, and made for home.
Rae thanked everyone. She then outlined what she had in mind for the school.
The focus for the very young would be on reading, writing, and math. Older students would have refresher classes, as they had not been in school since the power went out.
English reading material would be based on what could be found for everyone to read. Dad suggested they could make another trip to the East to town in search of a library and a school. Rae thanked him and said she would speak to Jack about it later.
“I have been asking people what books they had on their shelves in search of books numerous enough for all the students of a class to have a copy.” Rae gave out a small laugh and said, “Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume 1, by Julia Child, was the most common.”
Everyone laughed.
“The next most common,” Rae checked her notes, “The Harry Potter series, followed by The Chronicles of Narnia, Dune, A Wrinkle in Time, the Bible, a few copies of 1984, Brave New World, Lord of the Flies and Animal Farm. One copy of The Collective Works of William Shakespeare.”
Some laughed. Others approved of some titles, others not so much. Several groaned at the mention of William Shakespeare. Rae said she was still undecided about teaching the classics. Mom suggested that maybe Animal Farm could be made into a play. Rae noted it on her pad.
Sciences would lean mostly towards weather, growing things, and raising animals. Later a class on the human body, how the body functions with a emphasis on first aid. Students who appeared to have a “knack” and interest would be identified as possible candidates for a medical profession or veterinary. Rae had an astronomy class in mind and then asked my Dad if he would be willing to teach it along with his basic engineering class. He smiled and said he would love to.
History, Rae seemed a little unsure of herself and said so,
“I think we should teach American history, starting with America’s discovery, but I am not so sure how much we should delve into world history.”
Some did not think world history should be taught unless it was directly related to American involvement. Others noted that students need to understand there is a bigger world out there than just our little community. One said students need to understand geography. Rae jotted down notes on a pad of paper. She said she would have to think a bit more and revisit the ideas.
Then someone mentioned the theory of evolution, and before things could get heated, Rae said, “Evolution is going to be taught to a degree AND Creationism to a degree. There is only so much time that can be devoted to the topic. There is more than one Creationism belief out there. I leave it to you to teach your own children what you believe in based on your own religion. Not everyone here is of a religious faith.”
Everyone seemed to consider what Rae said, and many agreed or nodded their heads. It seemed to be an acceptable compromise.
Rae then pushed on to the next topic of sports, extracurricular activities, and other interests.
“Honestly, they will be determined by interest. As we saw this afternoon, I think we have enough interest for basketball. Cards seems to be very popular, Jack is taking lead on that one. Jack and Jessica will be teaching basic marksmanship and hunter safety. Jack thinks if or when you want your children to learn marksmanship, it is up to you. You know your child best. Joan can teach music and maybe even choir. She also said she would head up a drama class. We have people willing to coach baseball, soccer, and volleyball, but finding equipment is an issue. We will add that to the list when we make the trip to town along with books.” She looked at the picnic table where Mr. Miller, Billy, Mom, Dad, and I were sitting. “Might need to borrow your flat bed and team of Percherons again.” Mr. Miller tipped his cowboy hat to her. “Okay. That is all I have. If anyone has anything to add or suggest I will wait around for a bit.”
Most people left, but a few stayed around to talk with Rae and others.
Diary, there were still some issues, but things seemed to be going well.
Entry three
Diary, it rained!
And it was wonderful!
The day after militia training, we had just finished dinner at HAM Guy’s house, heading home when in the fading evening light, we could see lighting flashes followed by low rumbles in the distance. At first, I was worried of another tornado, but Dad said the air did not have that “feel” to it. I nodded, but was still a little worried.
We had just gotten home when the rain started. There was no wind, so the rain came straight down. Mom suggested we enjoy nature’s light show from the covered front porch and she popped open her camp chair and took her seat. Dad and I sat down in our chairs on either side of Mom. The rain became a downpour, washing away the heat and humidity. Dad got about a seven-second count between flashes of lightning to thunder, the bulk of the storm staying to the South. The Miller’s would be getting that part of the storm. The downpour only lasted about fifteen minutes, lessening into a steady rain. Dad said with that much rain, it could have been easily a quarter of an inch.
Dad was looking at the gutters above the us, along the roof overhang. He said he would look into getting some kind of barrels or containers to collect the rain for storage to water the gardens if we get another dry spell. Also, we would not have to haul water buckets up from the well pump in the basement.
That would be nice!
We watched the storm, listening to the rain for about another hour. Mom said it was a good “soaking” rain.
Dad went into the dark house and fumbled around to find his rechargeable flashlight. He came back out to say the house had cooled and was comfortable enough that we could sleep in our own beds tonight rather than in the basement.
Diary, as we folded up our camp chairs and headed into the house for bed, today was a good day.
About 1stMarineJarHead
1stMarineJarHead is not only a former Marine, but also a former EMT-B, Wilderness EMT (courtesy of NOLS), and volunteer firefighter.
He currently resides in the great white (i.e. snowy) Northeast with his wife and dogs. He raises chickens, rabbits, goats, occasionally hogs, cows and sometimes ducks. He grows various veggies and has a weird fondness for rutabagas. He enjoys reading, writing, cooking from scratch, making charcuterie, target shooting, and is currently expanding his woodworking skills.
The post Dear Diary, It’s Me, Jessica: Part 15 appeared first on The Organic Prepper.
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