Roger is making sure that she is working with her still-healing wounds in mind, and not pushing too hard. The truly difficult work of pulling panels off so many of the abandoned cars out in town, reshaping them into flat pieces of metal, is left to those uninjured and better suited to it.
And here I am, working at my computer all day. I haven't had the time to learn new things, join in on the classes I had hoped to attend regularly. Pat, Will, Courtney, Steve, even Jess, are out there doing things that will change our lives, keep us going, building bridges...while I am here crunching numbers and writing on this blog during my lunch break.
I know that what I and my brother do is important. I know that someone has to coordinate and create the plans for our various projects...but at the same time, I think back to just seven months ago when all of this began, and I almost wish for that simplicity.
Then again, I'm not an idiot. I might yearn for the simplicity of it, but not the danger. Not the uncertainty. Not the fear of living without walls. Not the loneliness.
Too maudlin. I know when I'm getting too introspective.
Finally...
I have harped on this the last two days, but remember, October is the month in which we need to spread the word to anyone and everyone we can. It is vital that we all work together to locate survivors wherever they might be that we can help each other through the coming winter. It's going to be cold and hungry for many, and every person who finds this blog, which we hope to make the central point of communication for all survivors, is a person with options for survival during what is likely to be a hard winter.
at 12:17 PM
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Picnic on the edge of the world
Posted by Josh Guess
Not much to go on about this morning, but I thought I would check in from habit if for no other reason. Jess and I have decided to have our day out together today rather than tomorrow, since she thinks I'm getting all emo (for those of you who are unfamiliar with this word; think "angst mixed with ridiculous self pity and a snazzy haircut") sitting here in the house all day.
So, we're going to the old cemetery on the other side of the hill for a picnic.
I know, it sounds very dark and mysterious. It's really not. The place has an amazing view of downtown and the river valley, and there is a perfect spot to see it that is also large and flat, so easy to lay out food and whatnot. Also, zombies don't really go there, which I attribute to the lack of strong people scent, and the fact that it's set on a massive hill that they would rather not climb. Add the fact that it's colder than a welldigger's ass right now, and I think we have a recipe for a safe outing.
Some people don't agree, which is why a few folks have decided to go with us to act as lookouts. I tried to tell them that we would be fine, that we would keep our eyes open, and that they could do some good around the compound rather than waste hours watching out for us unnecessarily, but there was no arguing with them. They said it wasn't a waste given all we had done for them, and that we needed a day together after our recent troubles and tragedies, yada yada yada.
I didn't start the process of gathering people here when the zombies spread like wildfire because I am some selfless hero. I did it because people needed a safe place, and because of the strength of numbers. And as far as our problems go, Jess and I have had it much easier than a lot of the other people here. We have lost much, much less. But if they want to go, I can't stop them short of staying home, and I need to get out of the house.
So there you have it. An hour or so from now, I will be peacefully secluded with my lovely wife on a small plateau on top of a five hundred foot tall cliff, eating whatever we manage to scrounge together between now and then and talking about things we both love. Sounds like a good day to me, however you cut it.
at 8:10 AM
Monday,
And here I am, working at my computer all day. I haven't had the time to learn new things, join in on the classes I had hoped to attend regularly. Pat, Will, Courtney, Steve, even Jess, are out there doing things that will change our lives, keep us going, building bridges...while I am here crunching numbers and writing on this blog during my lunch break.
I know that what I and my brother do is important. I know that someone has to coordinate and create the plans for our various projects...but at the same time, I think back to just seven months ago when all of this began, and I almost wish for that simplicity.
Then again, I'm not an idiot. I might yearn for the simplicity of it, but not the danger. Not the uncertainty. Not the fear of living without walls. Not the loneliness.
Too maudlin. I know when I'm getting too introspective.
Finally...
I have harped on this the last two days, but remember, October is the month in which we need to spread the word to anyone and everyone we can. It is vital that we all work together to locate survivors wherever they might be that we can help each other through the coming winter. It's going to be cold and hungry for many, and every person who finds this blog, which we hope to make the central point of communication for all survivors, is a person with options for survival during what is likely to be a hard winter.
at 12:17 PM
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Picnic on the edge of the world
Posted by Josh Guess
Not much to go on about this morning, but I thought I would check in from habit if for no other reason. Jess and I have decided to have our day out together today rather than tomorrow, since she thinks I'm getting all emo (for those of you who are unfamiliar with this word; think "angst mixed with ridiculous self pity and a snazzy haircut") sitting here in the house all day.
So, we're going to the old cemetery on the other side of the hill for a picnic.
I know, it sounds very dark and mysterious. It's really not. The place has an amazing view of downtown and the river valley, and there is a perfect spot to see it that is also large and flat, so easy to lay out food and whatnot. Also, zombies don't really go there, which I attribute to the lack of strong people scent, and the fact that it's set on a massive hill that they would rather not climb. Add the fact that it's colder than a welldigger's ass right now, and I think we have a recipe for a safe outing.
Some people don't agree, which is why a few folks have decided to go with us to act as lookouts. I tried to tell them that we would be fine, that we would keep our eyes open, and that they could do some good around the compound rather than waste hours watching out for us unnecessarily, but there was no arguing with them. They said it wasn't a waste given all we had done for them, and that we needed a day together after our recent troubles and tragedies, yada yada yada.
I didn't start the process of gathering people here when the zombies spread like wildfire because I am some selfless hero. I did it because people needed a safe place, and because of the strength of numbers. And as far as our problems go, Jess and I have had it much easier than a lot of the other people here. We have lost much, much less. But if they want to go, I can't stop them short of staying home, and I need to get out of the house.
So there you have it. An hour or so from now, I will be peacefully secluded with my lovely wife on a small plateau on top of a five hundred foot tall cliff, eating whatever we manage to scrounge together between now and then and talking about things we both love. Sounds like a good day to me, however you cut it.
at 8:10 AM
Monday,
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