My husband likes to harass me. I say he’s making fun of me, but he absolutely denies it. He says he only does what he does because he loves me. He thrives on my shopping abilities. I have cases of toilet paper, cases of canned vegetables, paper toweling and large quantities of salad dressings and condiments stashed in our basement.

He likes to joke about running out of ketchup or Parmesan cheese. We’ve come close a few times but never achieved a loss of a condiment.

If we were ever faced with another millennium scare, we wouldn’t have to worry of any shortages. The only worries we have our where to stockpile the stash.

Although he doesn’t know it, I have actually run out of ketchup and sugar. I avoided the shortage antagonism by preparing a meal that didn’t include those ingredients.

Smart lady. Evade the problem and elude the scrutiny.

Just the other day we headed down to the basement, AKA. “The Reserve”. This is where the bulk of my commodities are stored. My husband had the clever idea to organize the Reserve.

When the concept first entered his head he probably thought it was a good one. Ha! Five minutes into the reorganization he decided that maybe he was wrong.

As you can see, my husband thought he was doing a useful service. That’s a new theory. A man who might admit he’s wrong.

Hey Ladies, This One’s a Keeper

I stood back for a few moments and watched him. Humor was floating behind my eyes. I don’t think he had ever seen so much toilet paper and cases of twenty-ounce bottled sodas.

I waited till the time was right, then I commenced involvement. Within minutes the task was underway. Boxes and cases being moved here and there. Paper products in the correct category. Soda and bottled water placed respectably together. Canned fruits and vegetables lined the shelves in their proper location. Extra bottled water and cans of soda arranged nicely in our second refrigerator to chill. Laundry soap classified in the wash region. The case and a half of bleach (the price was too good to pass up) stored in a cool, dry spot.

Life was good. Grouping items conjointly made me feel better. Not that I didn’t know where everything was before. But as the old adage goes, “everything in its place”.

I learned from an early age that you can never have enough of the necessities. My mother either implanted it into my head or it’s hereditary. I plan for the worst case scenario.

Like for my writing, I have reams of paper stored secretly. You never know when the urge to write the next great American Novel will strike. Pens, pencils and sticky notes flourish and multiply. Envelopes of every size and shape are packed away in my four-drawer file cabinet.

Do you need to know what’s another word for “silly? Well I have four Thesauruses” on one of my three bookcases. Calculators, index cards and file folders are cohabiting on a white storage shelf near the file cabinet. Postage stamps and return address labels are congenially placed concurrently in an old shoe box. Everything in its place and a place for everything.

Baking supplies are purchased at a convenient Mennonite store about six miles from my rural home. Bulk spices and baking staples are a great buy here. Every spice imaginable is readily available. I never realized that there were so many kinds and flavors of baking chips. Extracts for every taste are obtainable. Six different kinds of flour are within reach here. This store is a miracle for the baking connoisseur.

Baking has become a love of mine too. Not only do I own, at last count, sixty-eight cookbooks, but I also found the most marvelous website that allows you to print recipes for free. You can even submit your own favorite recipe. This is a fabulous place to locate hard to find recipes as well as discover some different, best-liked formulas. I cherish this website. Over the last year I’ve collected hundreds of recipes and tips. Some recipes are duplicates but you can never have enough sourdough starters.