My grandpappy was found fishing on the bank of a lake by a police officer. His bucket was full of fish.
Officer: “Hey there, old timer. Do you have a fishing license?”
Grandpappy: “Nope. These are my fish. I brought them from home.”
Officer: “You brought them from home? Whaddya mean you brought them from home?”
Grandpappy: “I come here every day, let the fish swim around in the lake for a bit, and then I call them back.”
Officer: “You call them back??”
Grandpappy: “Yeah, that’s right. I whistle and they come back and jump right back in the bucket.”
Officer: “Ok then, show me.”
So Grandpappy calmly empties the bucket into the lake and then sits back and waits.
After a moment or two, the officer says, “Well?”
Grandpappy: “Well what?”
Officer: “Aren’t you gonna call the fish back?”
Grandpappy: “What fish?”
I got tired of carrying booze, fuel, and medicine and got the bright idea to see if a strong enough whiskey might not serve all three purposes.
#WhiskeyStoves #BoozeForFuel #PocketCooking #ThePracticalWoodsman #PleasantHillbillyPickle
Exactly my argument for why rubbing alcohol “pop can” stoves are better for bug-out bags than fuel canister stoves. Rubbing alcohol is a safer fuel stored in a bag that may have to spend time in a hot car, or direct sunlight, or who knows what sort of circumstances the bag mind find itself in.
For centuries, families across Britain slept in what was known as a box bed, a wooden bed built into the wall or enclosed with doors, designed to keep out the bitter cold of winter.
Far more than a place to sleep, the box bed was a practical solution in cottages where space was limited and every bit of warmth mattered. By enclosing the bed, families trapped precious heat, reduced draughts and gained a little privacy in homes where several generations often lived under one roof.
These humble beds witnessed every stage of life. Children were tucked into them at night, babies were born in them, and loved ones spent their final hours there, surrounded by family. In many cottages, the box bed even formed part of the wall itself, helping divide the living and sleeping areas of a single-room home.
To modern eyes they may seem cramped, but to those who lived through harsh winters with little comfort, the box bed was a warm, secure refuge, a simple piece of craftsmanship that helped ordinary families ...