It’s not the end of the world.  As I write this, I am listening to the radio, where sombre voices are speaking of madmen rattling their swords, about missiles, about poisoned eggs, about droughts, floods, forest fires.  Stay indoors.  Cover the windows, cover your eyes.  Be afraid. And I am afraid.

Yet, outside the open door, the sun shines, the swallows loop their exuberant loops, the tomatoes still ripen, and the cat, a cooler head than mine, licks her paws, caring not a jot for the news.  Not the end of the world, then.  Not today.

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At the back of the house there is a room that originally would have been the ‘summer kitchen’.  It would have had a sink, a dirt floor, a fire or oven, little else, and would have been used for cooking in the hot, dry summer months as a way of keeping the main house cool.  Ours has been ‘refurbished’, meaning the floor has been tiled and the walls have been papered, the main result of this being a good deal of dampness.  For the time being, until we get around to getting it back towards its original make-up (never), we are using it as a food store.  The shelves are filled with airtight tubs of dried wild mushrooms,  of canned tomatoes picked from the garden.  Pickles, jams blackcurrant syrup, nettle beer, brined green beans, dehydrated courgettes (and a bubbling demijohn of weird cloudy marrow ‘wine’ that will probably be a solitary pleasure).  It is not enough food to get us through a winter, let alone a nuclear one, though it is a start; we will be self-sufficient in tomatoes until the season is in full swing again next year.

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It is a whispered truth than there was an element of fear for the future in our decision to move towards a self-sufficient lifestyle.  (That’s not quite true.  ML is more positive than I am, and my dark mutterings about storing water, after one too many glasses of wine whilst listening to the radio news are, thankfully, counterbalanced by happier, more reasonable thoughts.)  If things do get difficult, here we are in a better position than most to weather the storm.  A well, chickens, sheep, fruit, vegetables, wild foods.  These may not be our salvation come the end times, but they are surely our salvation in any case. Connected to the land, to the creatures that roam and scuttle, to the sighing plants and, well, everything, we are happy, and healthy, and a part of things. Apocalypse or not.

 

 

4 thoughts on “The Apocalypse Pantry

  1. Awesome stuff mate…. what a pleasure to read something lovely amongst all the nonsense. Keep it coming!❤️

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  2. I think your writing is marvelous. We cannot expect to survive any type of nuclear catastrophe I am afraid, the young men with the guns will take whatever we have created in our attempts to defend our lives against the madness, and us along with it, but finding a way to become more self sufficient and creating so much that is worthwhile is a beautiful way to live. Paying close attention to the simple detail is an expression of the value of life. Creating something beautiful and useful helps us fulfill ourselves and creates value. Maybe you could take a trip to Japan and see master craftspeople at work, I think you would love it. I am going to spend some of the winter making beautiful tea bowls at a pottery class I think.

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