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Post by papaof2 on Sept 21, 2017 15:38:50 GMT -6
Will that cure the bronchitis that caused the sore throat Dammit Jim, I'm a PAW fiction writer, not a doctor! (Or something like that...) Well. if you can create poeple we love - or hate - out of thin air then why can't you create super-oxy-doxy-boxy-bat-wing-eye-of-newt-RoHs-mycin that cures everything with one dose? ;-) Or does "created out of thin air" medication only work on "created out of thin air" people? If that's the case, you could make a bundle selling it to people in the media and in politics...
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Post by freebirde on Sept 21, 2017 16:34:23 GMT -6
I'll try to work some nice hot Lemon Tea with honey into the next chapter. Will that cure the bronchitis that caused the sore throat Try adding some mint to the hot lemon tea with local honey. Some camphor or eucalyptus steam might break up some of the congestion that causes the sore throat. Cold apple juice will help a raw or tired throat.
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Post by brucearmstrong65 on Sept 26, 2017 18:01:27 GMT -6
Homeless – Chapter 5
A few days had gone by since Dave and Seb’s trip up to the cave. Even though he had checked the cave for Seb before, Don Hobart came over from his neighboring ranch and went through the cave with Dave, checking oxygen and gas levels throughout. The second chamber – the largest of the three – had a slightly lower oxygen level, but well within safety margins.
Don drove back to the farmhouse and both men got out. After shaking hands with Don and thanking him, Dave went into the barn to do some work, while Don went inside with Seb, who had come out at the sound of the pickup.
“Time for a cup, Don?” Seb asked as the men walked into the kitchen.
“Always, Seb, if this young lady made it,” Don said with a smile, planting a quick kiss on Ginny’s hand before sitting down at the kitchen table. “What’d you bake today, Gin?”
“Peach cobbler,” Ginny replied as she sat a cup of coffee before Don and Seb. “And to my utter surprise, with Seb and Dave around, there’s still some left. Ice cream on the side, Don?”
“Cobbler and coffee’ll be just fine,” Don said with a laugh. “I don’t wanna get too fat or I won’t get in and out of caves anymore.”
“You and Junior been spelunking lately?” Seb asked as Ginny put some cobbler down for each of the two men.
Don shook his head. “Between the ranch and school, boy’s been too busy for any cave time.” Don Hobart Jr. was a senior majoring in Animal Sciences at Fresno State. “Aside from this morning, I haven’t been in a cave for ages either.”
“Anything new on our cave?” Seb asked before taking a sip of coffee.
Don shook his head. “Same as before, Seb. Oxygen levels looked good all the way back to the end of the third chamber, where it narrows down to inaccessibility. Say, where’d you meet up with that Dave fellow?”
“Bumped into him down at the Rescue Mission Thrift Store almost two months ago,” Seb replied between bites of cobbler. “What’d you think of him today?”
“Seems like a nice enough fellow,” Don said. “Sure knows his construction. We got talking about turning the cave into a shelter, like you and I discussed before.”
“And?” Seb asked with raised eyebrows.
“It’s doable,” Don said, “but he mentioned the problem of air circulation and fallout. Thinks that too much construction will mess up the airflow, and with no means of filtering the air, it won’t be of much use as a fallout shelter.”
Seb shook his head. “Yeah, I was afraid of that. I’ve spent a lot of time on the internet checking that out. The natural ventilation would bring fallout in, and blocking the natural ventilation defeats one reason to use the cave in the first place. We’d need a full ventilation system, including filtration, and power to run it.”
The two men, joined by Ginny, sat in companionable silence as they finished their cobbler and coffee.
A knock at the kitchen door, followed immediately by Dave coming in, broke the silence.
“Finished up that repair work in the barn, Seb,” Dave said as he went over to the kitchen sink and washed his hands. “No thanks to that brown cow.”
Everyone laughed as Dave dried his hands and sat down at the table, where Ginny brought him a cup of coffee and offered some cobbler, which he declined. The brown cow, Betsy Belle, was known to anyone who knew the Browns as a thoroughly ill-tempered animal who would give anyone a firm kick if given the chance.
“My granddad had a cow like that years ago,” Seb mentioned. “Had to tie one hind leg to a post in order to milk her. One day he forgot and she caught him square. Apparently he let out a string of curse words. My dad was watching, and immediately went into the house to ask his mom was a ‘goddam sonofabitch’ was. Excuse the language, Miz Ginny.” Everyone laughed.
“Well, I best be going, folks,” Don said as he got up from the table. “Always work to be done. Dave, nice working with you this morning. Good luck. Ginny, always a pleasure. Seb, talk to you soon.” With a wave, Don headed out the kitchen door and was shortly driving down the farm road.
“Nice guy,” Dave reflected as he sat back down to finish his coffee. “Like you, Seb, he didn’t talk down to me because I was homeless.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Dave,” Seb said as he drained the last of his coffee. “I hear you two are of the same opinion on turning the cave into a fallout shelter.”
“I think a shelter is an excellent idea,” Dave pointed out as he handed his empty cup and saucer to Ginny. “No more for me, thanks. I’m not sure the cave is the best place for the shelter. The money it’d take, and the time – well, you’d probably be better off having one installed professionally by a company like Utah Shelter Systems.”
“That was kind of my thinking too,” Seb admitted, “but I was hopeful you might figure out a way to make it work. At least we got a fresh set of eyes on the problem – and professional ones at that – and confirmed our hunch.”
“Don’t get me wrong, Seb,” Dave held up his hand. “That cave could be very useful for a number of other things – secure storage, for example. Emergency shelter for another, if something happened to the house.”
“What would we need to do to the cave to make it secure, Dave?” Ginny asked, as she finished washing the dessert dishes and coffee cups.
“To make it secure?” Dave replied. “A standard security door with metal screen would do the trick. Sink the threshold and frame into the stone; might have to do a little chisel work to get the perfect fit. That’d keep animals and nosy people out and let the air flow through unimpeded.
“Put everything in waterproof containers on wood pallets, just in case you get any water flowing through. That’s how caves are created,” Dave pointed out. “Though it looked very dry in there, and remarkably free of animal droppings. Do you can, Ginny?”
Ginny shot Dave a semi-withering look belied by the twinkle in her eye. “Do you know a good farm wife that doesn’t, Dave?”
Dave grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes. Well, the cave’d be a great place to store some of your canned goods, home-canned or otherwise. Secure the cabinets and shelves to the wall and put earthquake bars on them so everything doesn’t get shaken loose
“What’re we looking at dollar-wise, Dave?” Seb asked. “If we want to stock and secure the cave, like you proposed? And what do full shelters run, like from that Utah place?”
“The cave’s no problem, Seb,” Dave replied. “A couple of thousand for the security door, pallets, shelving, cabinets, totes & the like – less if you hit the sales just right.
“Now the full underground shelter, well, that’s another thing. I checked a couple years ago, before things went downhill, and a system from Utah Shelter Systems can run anywhere from $40,000 to $95,000, depending on the size and type of shelter.”
Seb glanced at Ginny and whistled softly. “I don’t think we could do that without a bank loan of some sort, and I won’t encumber the farm with a mortgage.”
“But we could definitely afford to upgrade the cave,” Ginny pointed out. “Dave, what can we do with a partial basement?”
“Partial basement?” Dave perked up. “Partial how?”
“Partially submerged, I guess is a better phrase,” Ginny amended. “Two small rectangular windows on the west side. The couple we bought this place from moved here from Iowa and they essentially recreated their farmhouse from back there, complete with basement.”
“That might be the answer to your shelter problem,” Dave said, smiling. “You could build a shelter within the basement, using one of those old Civil Defense plans, block up the windows, and reinforce the outside walls with sandbags or whatever dense material you had on hand. Much cheaper than a professionally built shelter – not cheap, mind you, but cheaper.”
Dave,” Seb said, standing up and extending his hand, “how’d you like to build us a shelter?”
Dave stood, extended his hand and, with a grin, said, “It’d be my pleasure, if I can do it a bit at a time. Don’t forget I promised to work for Mr. Hanna on the Christmas tree lot part-time starting next week until after Christmas.”
“He’s honest *and* smart, Ginny!” Seb exclaimed.
“And not all that hard on the eyes,” Ginny remarked with a twinkle in her own eyes.
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Post by kaijafon on Sept 26, 2017 18:22:50 GMT -6
Thank you!
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Post by papaof2 on Sept 26, 2017 19:10:27 GMT -6
Non-obvious secure storage is also a good thing to have.
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Post by 9idrr on Sept 26, 2017 20:26:02 GMT -6
Written up to your usual high standard, sir. Thank you.
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Post by motherhen on Oct 3, 2017 21:38:22 GMT -6
Thanks for the updates, this story is shaping up beautifully!
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Post by cutter on Oct 4, 2017 16:57:40 GMT -6
Very nicely done. I look forward to more. In your own time.
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Post by 9idrr on Oct 4, 2017 20:32:53 GMT -6
Very nicely done. I look forward to more. In your own time. Yeah, don't hurry on our account. After all, it's not like we're expectin' anything big... say, another forty-fifty chapters. By the weekend. Or Friday. Or Thursday'd be okay, too.
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