Aselin

Mormons are funny creatures. We often refer to ourselves as a ‘peculiar people’ as though a scripturally based euphemism will make us less weird. We’re famous for all sorts of oddities. Aversion to coffee, tea, alcohol, tobacco just to name a few. Plus there’s that pesky confusion over polygamy, people like to wonder about us, others like to point and stare.

This was the case when my neighbor first saw my pantry. She pointed to a 6 gallon white bucket and said “What’s in there?” “Wheat” I reply as matter-of-factly as I can. “That one?” “Rice” “That one?” “Oats” Her quizzical expression turned to the look someone uses when seeing bad plastic surgery. This wasn’t going too well. I tried to salvage the experience by directing her attention to the organic macaroni and cheese. It would have worked if it had only been a box or two. The fact that it was enough mac - n - cheese to feed then entire fourth grade at my kids’ elementary school for a week, didn’t help.

Mormons are admonished to accumulate an emergency supply of food and water. When this first started, a hundred or so years ago, the counsel was a seven year supply. For most of my life it’s been a one year supply, and recently it’s whittled down to a three month supply of the food you eat and a year supply to keep you alive. I’ve done my best to follow the year’s supply counsel. Hence, the very stocked pantry. Most Mormons have struggled with this concept. A peek into the average ‘year’s supply’ will reveal a case of olives, some chocolate chips and a can of Spam. Even though I do it, I get that it’s weird.

Usually I do my best to blend in among the natives. When I’m in social stealth mode my strategy has been to order a glass of orange juice at the ladies coffees, to offer to be the designated driver, and to keep my pantry hidden from world view.

Now my security system has been breached, my weirdness has been made public. It was only a matter of time.

Recent events have made my peculiar habits not seem so crazy to the rest of the modern world, but it is still pretty weird to have the side of your house lined with blue barrels of water. The blessing in all of this has been we haven’t had to really live off of my rodentesque collection.

Yesterday at church we were asked to live this entire week off of our supply - no going to the store. Food, water - everything. I groaned a little when we were asked. I’ve got the stuff, but I’m so ‘busy’. This totally cuts into my bon bon eating time. I’m now going to have to plan, to organize. Crap.

Scott of course finds the whole thing an adventure. He’s up before dawn mixing up a batch of powdered milk and digging out the siphon pump for the barrels of water. Reluctantly I get on board. I have prepared for this. We can do it, and if I quit bellyaching, it will be fun.

So now with our food and water supply cut off, we embark on a week of what I’ll call “Fancy Camping” We are allowed to shower & flush the toilet. Bishop didn’t say anything about the dishwasher, so I’m still using that. We are civilized after all. By the end of the week we’ll see how savage we get - wrestling for the last can of chicken noodle soup and fighting over sprigs from the herb garden.