I keep a red Mead spiral notebook in the second drawer to the left of our stove, under the potholders Darlene crocheted back when Wendy was still in grade school. The wire is bent and the cover curls up, but that notebook runs our preparedness more than anything else in this house. I call it the Ice Storm Ledger.

It started after the January ice storm that rolled through Greene County years back. It was not dramatic at first. Just rain tapping on the siding, then silence. The power cut out at 6:42 in the evening, which I remember because the oven clock froze there and never blinked again. Four days later, we had learned exactly where our assumptions were thin.

The Ice Storm Ledger has a fixed format that never changes.

Date
Weather conditions
What failed first
What surprised me
What I fixed afterward

No philosophy. No storytelling. Just facts. That structure matters. When something goes sideways, I do not want to invent a system. I want to follow one.

The first system I named was the Warm Box Plan. Before it had a name, it was just an idea floating around in my head. After it had a name, it became real.

The Warm Box itself is a gray plastic tote with a yellow lid that lives in the hall closet. The label says Warm Box in block letters. Inside it is a Mr Heater Buddy, two unopened one pound propane cylinders, a battery powered carbon monoxide detector, a wool blanket I picked up at an estate sale in Springfield, and a printed instruction sheet taped to the inside lid.

That instruction sheet is written for Darlene, not for me. It spells out which room we heat, which breakers stay off, and where the fire extinguisher sits. The plan is simple. We heat the living room only. Doors stay closed. Towels block drafts. Simple rules survive stress better than clever ones.

I tested the Warm Box Plan on purpose on a calm Saturday afternoon. I shut off the main breaker, lit the heater, and read an old paperback on the couch. The rest of the house cooled down to fifty eight degrees, but the living room stayed comfortable. That test earned the plan its permanent spot in the ledger.

Water was next. I named that system the Clear Creek Backup, because Clear Creek runs half a mile south of us and never dries up, even in August.

Under the basement stairs are six seven gallon Aquatainers. Each one is dated with painter’s tape and rotated every April and October. That part is easy.

The important part is the Clear Creek Page taped to the wall. It lists the walking route, which containers to carry, the Sawyer Squeeze filter, the stainless steel stock pot for boiling, and the bleach ratio written big enough to read in low light. Eight drops per gallon if boiling is not possible. I do not rely on memory when stress is involved. I rely on ink.

Information failed fast during the ice storm, so I built what I call the Kitchen Radio Rule. There is a Midland weather radio that lives permanently on the kitchen counter. It stays plugged in and it has batteries installed. On the first Saturday of every month, I unplug it and turn it on. If it does not work, I fix it that day. That radio has a name written on the back, Old Faithful. Named things get attention.

Food became manageable when I stopped calling it food and started calling it systems.

The Seven Day Shelf is the top shelf in the pantry. It holds exactly seven breakfasts, seven lunches, and seven dinners that do not need refrigeration. Everything on that shelf has been eaten during normal life. If we do not like it, it does not live there.

The No Power Menu is a laminated card taped inside the pantry door. Meals are grouped by cooking method. Camp stove meals. Fireplace meals. No heat meals. Decision making burns energy you may need elsewhere.

The Freezer Triage Plan is taped to the freezer lid. Eat this first. Cook this within twenty four hours. Share this if needed. A plan keeps emotion out of it.

The Ice Storm Ledger keeps growing, not with disasters, but with small failures. Flashlights that die. Cords that are too short. Tools that break. Every fix gets dated. Every fix gets named.

This mix lives in quart Mason jars on the third pantry shelf next to the canned chili. Warm bread steadies people faster than almost anything else.

Dry mix ingredients
• Eight cups all purpose flour
• One cup powdered milk
• Three tablespoons baking powder
• One tablespoon sugar
• One tablespoon salt

Mixing instructions
• Whisk all dry ingredients together in a large bowl
• Cut in one cup of shortening until the mixture looks like coarse crumbs
• Scoop into clean Mason jars, about four cups per quart
• Label jars with the date and store in a cool, dry place

Cooking instructions
• Pour two cups of mix into a bowl
• Add about three quarters of a cup of water
• Stir just until combined, do not overmix
• Heat a cast iron skillet with a little oil
• Drop dough in spoonfuls, cover with a lid, cook over medium heat
• Flip once when bottoms are golden

I have cooked these on a camp stove during outages and on ordinary mornings when I did not feel like driving to town. They smell like effort, which counts for a lot.

Hi everyone, Wendy here. I am writing from our place east of the Cascades in Oregon, where summers are dry and wildfire smoke can turn plans upside down fast.

Preparedness for us is about reducing stress for the kids when routines change. Steve works long hours, so systems matter.

We use something called the After School Plan. It lives on a clipboard by the fridge.

Snack bin
Homework table
Flashlight basket
Shoes stay by the door

Luke is nine and Charlotte is seven. Each has a Ready Pack hanging on a hook.

Luke’s Ready Pack
• Cubs hat
• Paperback book
• Extra socks
• Snacks

Charlotte’s Ready Pack
• Purple hoodie
• Coloring pad
• Crayons
• Snacks

These are not evacuation bags. They are comfort bags. Familiar things calm kids faster than explanations. Jasper the black lab mostly thinks these drills mean treats, which is fine.

Preparedness here feels like responsibility, not fear. The kids help label water jugs and check flashlight batteries, and they take pride in it.

This week’s skill is called the Low Light Walkthrough.

Tonight after dinner
• Turn off most of the lights
• Leave one lamp on low
• Walk from bedroom to kitchen to bathroom
• Move slowly and notice obstacles

Write down three things that got in your way.

Tomorrow
• Fix one of those problems
• Move a chair, clear a path, add a night light

Next
• Cook a No Power Dinner using only non electric methods
• Eat it at the table
• Notice what worked and what annoyed you

Finish with a five minute conversation.
If the power goes out tonight
Who grabs the flashlight
Where do we sit
What gets shut off

Small named practices like this prevent big messy surprises later.