I have moved again.
I was cruising round town in a little Smart ForTwo. The little Smart is small enough to maneuver around the wrecks most of the time and has a little more cargo room than a motorcycle. I was out gathering food. I don't do grocery stores. The last one I was in, the odors from the meat and frozen foods sections had permeated the entire store. Maybe this winter it will be ok to venture in but not yet. But a lot of houses have a pretty good stock of canned and dry goods. And as long as you don't open the fridge or freezer you're fine.
The basics of life are not a problem. Food is abundant, bottled water is everywhere and as far as housing goes, it's a buyer's market.
I was pulling into Milton Estates, just off Lees Summit Road when I saw a house with a porch light on. Many houses have solar powered lawn lights. I make a point of gathering those up. I had surrounded the perimeter of my house with them as well as a path out to the back yard where I had dug a latrine and another path to the garage. But as I approached the house I saw the large solar panels covering the entire roof on the south side. The door was unlocked so I let myself in. It was a nice house. The decor was somewhat eclectic but seemed to blend well. It was probably how I would have decorated if I'd had the money. I searched the house but found no vacant piles of clothes. In the four car garage, yes a four car garage, I found a pile of men's clothes under a vintage Chevy that was up on jack stands. A set of woman's clothes I found on the patio. I buried them in the back yard.
The house must have cost the owner about 500 to 600 thousand. It was designed to be completely off the grid. Solar power, rainwater collection and filtration system, super insulated. Heat and motion detectors in all the rooms to automatically turn off the lights and minimize climate controls to conserve electricity. I have all the amenities. The streets in the neighborhood are fairly clear so I can get around pretty easy.
I should be quite comfortable here for a while.
© 2009 R. Keith McBride