12 September 20XX
My Dear Luclius:
The last few days here have been spent busily continuing to prepare for Winter. Of especially interest is gathering up any and all pieces of wood I can get for the upcoming Winter: There will be two of us instead of one and while I can manage the cold, I have no idea what Pompeia Paulina’s limit may be. Other tasks – beyond the garden and prepping the greenhouse of course – are getting the pump shed in order and eyeing the progress of the Winter grains.
The Colonel and The Leftenant had the courtesy to stop by on their way out of town the day after our own meeting.. Their visit had been of mixed success – the farthest town away, Highwayville (so named by me because it sits at the junction of the main state highway and the road that runs through Birch) was more than interested in maintaining an alliance, yet they are the farthest away and likely the most exposed to any issues. The town closer in, Grant, has almost twice the population of Highwayville and six times the population of Birch. Apparently they have already taken the liberty of starting to push cars into place and make something of a wall around some part of the city. Their response, much like that of the rancher in our meeting, was a sort of guarded indifference: supportive, but not ready to commit to much aid.
On the whole, not surprising.
We pressed some supplies on the Colonel and the Leftenent as they had walked a great deal in the past few days on everyone’s behalf with little to show for it. They both tried to insist they had enough but we insisted more and finally they accepted. On his way out, the Colonel let both myself and Young Xerxes know we would be welcome in Kentucky City, should things come to that.
It was an exceedingly kind gesture.
Young Xerxes has said a few people have started moving to the surrounding places before the weather turns colder and unyielding. They carry what they can or find ways to transport it via wagon or cart or even horses. At least two of the neighbors on their street have said they are leaving; once they are gone they have offered up anything that is left behind as they do not expect to be back for a long time.
Could I go somewhere Lucilius? Yes, it sounds like we have a place to go now if we needed to. But would I? I find myself uncertain at best. Balancing the idea of life as a refugee and life as it is becomes difficult in my mind – realistically what could or would we transport the 9 miles to Kentucky City? Little enough at best, and I have no idea what we would find once we got there.
At best here we could simply make the place look like it was unremarkable and unoccupied. That can be done readily enough: The old winter window covers are still here from when these was a seasonal cabin. While the would make the interior very dark, they would also give every impression of something uninhabited (although likely the garden would give it away, if not the smoke from the chimney). Still, we are enough off the main road that it might not attract attention.
The other reason to stay, of course, is Statiera and Young Xerxes (or leave, I suppose, if they went). I have thought of having them come to stay here if things become too hard – the space is very small for four people (with a young married couple at that), but could be made to work. It has in the past.
On the whole, I suppose it remains a problem for the Spring – the Winter is coming soon enough here and while there is not a 100% chance of us being bothered by wandering bands, it is extremely low given the fact that we are so far off any main highway and that anyone foolish enough to make a long distance raid in the Winter here has fuel and food to burn.
But even as I write this, I am already thinking towards a Spring likely to have even less than we have now.
Your Obedient Servant, Seneca
I think I've already said this in a previous comment, but without convenient transportation and proper equipment, it would be a difficult decision to leave one's own homefront to go defend another. More than one army has been duped by a distraction and found themselves outflanked and leaving the home turf poorly defended. (It's the stuff of battles in novels.)
ReplyDeleteLeigh, you have - and the sense I have is now things are sinking in, in a way they have not before. The idea that far flung outposts would be the most desirous of such an arrangement is not at all surprising to me: after all, they have the most to gain by it. It is not surprising that other places would feel that they are losing out by pursuing such a strategy. Which, of course, puts those far flung outposts into a rather tough spot: hope for the best, move, or condense down to a solid core.
DeleteThere was a reason that ancient and medieval cities were so small by our standards: they could be protected.
Grim report. A refugee seeking the kindness of others. Unless bringing a needed skillset looked upon as just another hungry mouth and potential trouble.
ReplyDeleteFeudal times ahead. Where a strong leader and his band offers protection for those that Add Something to the survival of the whole clan (or tribe).
I'll stop here.
Michael, it is grim. But the reality, now apparent I think, is that there is not some kind of "reset" coming in the near future, nor is the fruit of working together as beneficial as might be have been thought. Gearing people for a project that goes nowhere depresses morale; having someone pull away resources that were originally thought to be shared seals it.
DeleteBanding together becomes more important when there is a collapse like that Seneca is experiencing. Bad enough to have to deal with potential two-legged problems, Mother Nature can be the worst enemy though. Seneca better lay in a good supply of firewood......:)
ReplyDeleteNylon12, given the situation now it is important to band together - but I suspect where it makes sense. Now we are reaching the stage of carrying capacity and natural resource support. Too many people in too small a space without enough resources is no better than not enough people in too large a space.
DeleteI think I would make the same decision as Seneca, find a nice secluded place off the beaten path for the winter. I would imagine living in the city would be challenging with scrambles over wood for warmth and most likely food leading to riots and more. Summer, when warmth isn't an issue, and like you said, probably more likely to invite raiding parties, would be when I might seek a city for safety of numbers. However, that would make it challenging to raise a garden and gather more wood for the winter.
ReplyDeleteEd, one potential "advantage" of an urban area might be that - after whatever initial shock there is - there could be more readily available resources (depends on the city, of course: here in New Home 2.0 we might be better off in that regard than other locations). And if history is any indication, raiding parties - be they invading armies or hordes, bandits, or simply local authorities out of control - have been more a feature of a feature than not in human history.
DeleteI suspect - were such a scenario as this to actually occur - we would quickly be reminded as a species where humans can easily live and where they cannot. There is a reason that major civilizations developed where they did, and it has to do with things like food, resources, and climate - for example, prior to modern man and the Industrial Revolution, I would suspect there were few if any large cities in near arctic climes or in the middle of the desert. There is a reason for that.
Even in the modern day, in desperate times, isolated remote houses are a very bad idea. Too easy for as small band to overrun.
ReplyDeleteThat is a really good point, Anon. And one reads of squatters not that infrequently as well.
DeleteDepending on "enemy" action, before, during and especially after the "selection", I'm looking at winter with trepidation.
ReplyDeleteNote: Anony @ 12:46 PM.
T_M - Honestly, I fear this will be a hard Winter for many reasons.
Delete