The JNAC Chronicles

For the first time, I'm questioning: Could I truly be crazy?
Things I have done in the last week:

#1. on the crazy list is perhaps this- enjoy:
In our church they have all the windows locked with bolts. You can't open them for fresh air. I teach CTR 5 and keep thinking there is no way this complies with fire codes. It maddens me. On Saturday night I had a dream there was a fire and, luckily, I had some allen wrenches in my purse to make an escape and save the children. Sunday morning I actually threw an allen wrench set in my bag. (I'm laughing, too!)

#2. Anika still sleeps with a movement sensor pad underneath her mattress. It's the only way I can sleep... if I know for a fact she is alive. I also have her crib on video monitor.

#3. Killer bees are now in Southern Utah and I am actually pondering asking her pede for an epinephrine pen to tote around in my purse.

#5. I have two fire extinguishers, one on each level of my house and can't understand why mounted extinguishers in every house aren't building code.

#6. I never go hiking without my venom-extractor kit.

#7. After mine and the Big B's Thunder River experience I will always rent a satellite phone to backpack with us. It's what the commercial rafters carry and $40/week is a small trade for a dehydrated death in Surprise Valley.

So, am I crazy?

I think I'm more of a boy scout. Be prepared is the motto. It just so happens that every boy scout I have ever known is a total idiot and completely unprepared. Is it not true that several boys/leaders die at every national scout jamboree via lightning, dehydration, falling off cliffs? I, myself, have nearly been killed by several boy scouts. No boy scout on the Thunder River trip was saving my butt. It was rather me, with the ziploc bags, electrolyte powder, and signal mirror that left a red, sweat-less Brandon under a rock, with hallucinations and muscle spasms, to go save his butt. (and yes, I know about the haughty-pride tone I invoke when I talk about it.) My pack is always heavier but Brandon never believed me so last time I made him weigh the packs to prove I was sacrificing my back for both of our safety. (good for me. hmmmph. pout, pout.)

I listened to the dream because I have learned to. With increasing frequency, I have been dreaming things the night before it happens, and even some during. From the deeply personal I have never shared, to the personal I have, to the road accidents, to significant numbers, to Benazir Bhutto's assassination. OK, that last one makes me sound really crazy. But you understand why I can't ignore them.

Despite the evidence, I feel completely sane. I still live life feeling very safe and secure. I go about it normally like everyone else... you know... with wooden dowels in second story windows.

I theorize: Why not? It's so simple to be prepared and know the facts. I feel so much better knowing I've done the SIMPLE things that could come in handy someday. It takes minimal effort to be prepared.