Rule Number One: Cardio! I Just Have to Run Faster than the Other Guy!


Yes, I’ve pulled the Zombieland card. Ha!

When I first saw the topic for today’s edition of Wednesday Weekly Blog Challenge hosted by the fine folks over at Long and Short Reviews, I had to chuckle. I mean, I’m married to a Marine vet. I’m pretty sure no matter what comes to the door by way of the zombie apocalypse, I’m good! That being said, I think I could fare just fine on my own. I’ve had some excellent teachers and learned well over the years.

I grew up in the rural Missouri Ozarks. While the area has built up quite a bit since I was a kid, back then we lived so far out we didn’t even have a mailbox at our drive-way. About a half-mile back toward town there was a side-road that was the cutting off point for the mail delivery. There at the side-road was a long board on two wooden poles and everyone who lived beyond that point had a box attached to the board. So, yeah, I think rural is a qualifier here. In fact, we didn’t even have a postal code at that point. We used the one from a neighboring town and we were considered a “rural route.” Our address would read: RR#2 then the box number.

The nearest doctor was almost twenty-miles away. The nearest fire department or ambulance service just as far. You had to call the county sheriff’s office if you needed help. Now there’s 911 service, but unless an officer is on your end of the county you could be in for a wait. Back then there was a small country general store just about five miles away, but it was indeed small and only for necessaries, as my grandma would call them. If you wanted choices or something special you had to go to Richland or Lebanon or Waynesville, all at least fifteen miles away. Not far if you think about it today, but back then it was a trot. Back then there were only the basics offered in those towns. A couple of stores, a couple of restaurants. We had Mr. Quik and a Sonic.

All that being said, living in the rural boondocks, one must know a few things in order to survive any minor emergency which might come your way. I remember one time my dad severed his fingers on an old lawn mower. With the doctor so far away and it being summer…it was a horrible ordeal. My tummy hurts even now thinking about that. My grandma knew what to do, though. She knew to get him cooled off, quickly, so the blood would stop pumping so hard. And she knew to wrap them tightly in a towel and get his arm pointing upward to try to stem the blood loss. Then away my mom went with him beat-feeting it to town. Luckily, the old country doctor we had at the teeny-tiny hospital was just sober enough that day he saved my dad’s fingers.

I could probably write a book about my childhood experiences alone. You just can’t make this stuff up.

Anywho! Skills I learned from my grandmother that would help me survive the zombie apocalypse. She helped teach me to shoot like a champ. That woman could take a pebble off a fence-post with a twenty-two from a hundred feet away even in her old age. She taught me to garden and preserve what we grew. I know how to kill a chicken, swiftly. I don’t want to and I sure don’t want to eat my girls, but I could if it was necessary. (I think!) She taught me how to make the eagle shit. If you’ve never heard that term, it means stretch a dollar. Oh! She knew every wild edible plant that grew near her house. I’m not sure I could recognize all of them now, but I bet I know enough to not poison myself or my family. I also know which mushrooms are edible and at what time of the year to look for them.

MarshFox took over where grandma’s lessons ended. He’s helped me hone my shooting skills and he’s helped me learn to love exercise. There’s another post about that around here somewhere. Cardio is important! And, I don’t have to win a marathon. I just have to be able to outrun the other guy. He’s also taught me to believe in myself, and that, my friends, may be the most valuable skill of all. I if believe I can survive the zombie apocalypse, chances are I can! So far I’ve survived this current world crisis just fine. Zombies should be a cinch!

What about you? Are you primed and ready for the zombies? Have any reading suggestions from the zombie genre?


12 thoughts on “Rule Number One: Cardio! I Just Have to Run Faster than the Other Guy!

  1. lydiaschoch

    You seem like you’d be well-prepared for a zombiepocalypse (or any other emergency).

    That story about your grandfather’s fingers made me shudder. My grandfather is a farmer, too. When my mom was a little girl, she once had an accident that left her with a gash in her head. He sewed it up himself. :O (It healed really well).

    There’s something about the culture of farmers and rural folks that makes them good at handling stuff like this, I think.

    My post.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Michael Mock

    I once watched my father slide down a 50′ cliff. He survived because it wasn’t *quite* vertical — maybe 15 degrees off — and the friction kept his speed down. Sanded right through the back pocket of his jeans, though (we never did find the batteries he’d had back there — but did no appreciable damage to the rawhide jacket he was wearing.

    He took a moment to make sure nothing was broken, then hiked back to camp. So, I mean, yeah… that feeling of Oh holy poot something’s happened to my dad! is remarkably familiar.

    My post is here.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Dixie, I loved reading about your rural adventures. As for the doctor being sober enough to save your dad’s fingers… yikes!!!
    Think I’d like to hang with you in an apocalypse. Between us two country girls, I reckon we’d have all the skills.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. melanierousselfiction

    You’re so prepared, I’m jealous! Hats off to your grandmother, she taught you so much you’d need for a zombie apocalypse. I’m imagining unintentionally XD Great post, thanks for sharing!

    Liked by 2 people

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