The Flood Box
I went to live with (and work for) my Father for about a year, in my mid 20’s. It was ok, he is a bit of a hard-living hard-working bugger, but at least I got to know him a little bit better, which put to rest a few demons (only a few).

He lived on a farm in a semi-rural area in Australia. It was reasonably remote, and from time to time the heavy Summer rains would cut off access into the farm.

Dad often travelled abroad and before leaving on one particular trip, he told me there was a “flood box” of emergency rations stored in the shed just in case I might be flooded in.

Sure enough, I was alone on the farm, the rains came, power went off and access across the creek to town was cut.

No worries, cooked all the perishable food out of the fridge on the camping gas stove until the gas ran out, that saw me through for a few days. Then, I remembered the flood box. “Oh goody”, I guessed I’d be eating cold Baked Beans out of tins for a few days.



So, I cracked open the flood box..........24 packets of cigarettes.


That was it, nothing else. Dad's version of Emergency rations.
( Ken Oath, Tue 19 Jun 2012, 3:40, 4 replies)

Ah look, you'll be whinging
about the lack of frothy milk next! ;P
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Tue 19 Jun 2012, 3:47, closed)

Developed a savage smoking habit though.

( Ken Oath, Tue 19 Jun 2012, 3:51, closed)

Your own ver. of "The Breakfast Club"?

(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Tue 19 Jun 2012, 8:54, closed)

So the old man still wants you dead then
( bane, Tue 19 Jun 2012, 20:54, closed)

Yeah, true...it seems he really comes to the fore during natural disasters.
( Ken Oath, Wed 20 Jun 2012, 3:04, closed)