Personalized Survival Binder…….

How to create a personalized survival binder.

Quote of the Day

“Knowledge is of two kinds. We know a subject ourselves, or we know where we can find information upon it.”
Samuel Johnson

 

Personalized Survival Binder

By Bev Sandlin

 

Rourke and I have been working on creating a set of “white pages” of survival basics that you can download to create your own personalized survival binder for Your family, Your geographical location, Your potential disasters. Way back in the ‘70s I started my own 3 ring survival binder, which became binders over the years. Well, my house burned two years ago and poof, a lifetime of information collecting gone. Two strokes and my memory leaves something to be desire.  Such is life…

We all have different families, challenges, live in different areas under different circumstances, but we all believe in being prepared or we wouldn’t be here. And we are all preparing for different scenarios. Some of us are preparing for floods, earthquakes, and tornadoes, while others for a nuclear catastrophe or economic collapse. No matter how extensive your library, no one book will cover this all! And there is so much valuable information out there, but how do you remember where it all is and what if the electricity goes off and the library is not available? A personalized survival binder is the answer.

When I started mine, the personal computer was science fiction! I hand copied information, cut and pasted magazine articles and photocopied from books. Today, most information you need is available on the internet and can be easily printed, or copied and pasted into a document. And there are so many excellent websites and resources available it can be mind boggling!

My favorite “go to” website is reThinksurvival.com. Once on the homepage look down the right hand side: Resources for You, Gearing Up, Guide to the Net, Video Vault, Subscriber Content—preparedness tools, free ebooks, storage food recipe data base, 99 capacities, if you can think of it, it is probably on reThink somewhere! Subscribe and you will be rewarded!

Three ring binders are inexpensive, especially if you shop at your local Salvation Army or Goodwill. I use a hole punch and just the computer paper I am printing on, or photocopying onto. If I’m handwriting things, I like the pre-punched ruled notebook paper. I divided mine into categories like: First Aid, Water, Alternative Fuel and Energy, Recipes (beans and rice), Wild Edibles, Natural Remedies, you get the idea. Gardening and Food Preservation are separate binders for me. But you could easily have individual binders for all of your categories.

So, as you are wondering the Net and see good information, consider creating your own Survival Binder! And we are going to help you by putting up short pdf documents in The Basics tab at the top of the SCP homepage and valuable information in the Downloads tab.

And please, let us know what you would like to see in these areas by commenting or emailing us at scprepper(at)outlook.com

*****

A smile for you…

Feeling Good

Information

When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember well the polished old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother used to talk to it. Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person – her name was “Information Please” and there was nothing she did not know.

“Information Please” could supply anybody’s number and the correct time.

My first personal experience with this genie-in the-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer. The pain was terrible, but there didn’t seem to be any reason in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway.

The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the foot stool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. “Information Please,” I said into the mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear.

“Information”

“I hurt my finger…” I wailed into the phone. The tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.

“Isn’t your mother home?” came the question.

“Nobody’s home but me.” I blubbered.

“Are you bleeding?” the voice asked.

“No,” I replied. “I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts.”

“Can you open your icebox?” she asked. I said I could. “Then chip off a little piece of ice and hold it to your finger,” said the voice.

After that, I called “Information Please” for everything. I asked her for help with my geography and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk, that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary died. I called “Information Please” and told her the sad story. She listened, then said the usual things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was unconsoled. I asked her, “Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?”

She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, “Paul, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in.” Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone. “Information Please.”

“Information,” said the now familiar voice.

“How do you spell fix?” I asked.

All this took place in a small town in the Central Northwest. When I was 9 years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much.

“Information Please” belonged in that old wooden box back home, and I somehow never thought of trying the tall, shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall.

As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about half an hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, “Information, Please.” Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well, “Information.”

I hadn’t planned this but I heard myself saying, “Could you please tell me how to spell fix?”

There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, “I guess your finger must have healed by now.”

I laughed. “So it’s really still you,” I said. “I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time.”

“I wonder”, she said, “if you know how much your calls meant to me.

I never had any children, and I used to look forward to your calls.”

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.

“Please do,” she said. “Just ask for Sally.”

Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered “Information.”

I asked for Sally.

“Are you a friend?” She said.

“Yes, a very old friend,” I answered.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, she said. Sally had been working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago.”

Before I could hang up she said, “Wait a minute. Did you say your name was Paul?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called.

Let me read it to you.” The note said, “Tell him I still say there are other worlds to sing in. He’ll know what I mean.”

I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.

Anonymous

Never underestimate the impression you may make on others. Whose life have you touched today?


 

 

 

 

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