There Ain’t Nobody Here but us Chickens

Sailors have many good qualities. (Have you seen that dashing uniform?)

They tend to remain cool under pressure and, thanks to all that advanced military training, you’ll want to stick to yours like glue in the unlikely event of a zombie apocalypse. (I’m not joking when I boast my sailor could give Rick Grimes a run for his money.)

The downside to fraternizing with a sailor? Being left at home while he travels the world, defending democracy.

If you’re the brave, independent type this isn’t a problem.

If you’re a chicken like me, you may find yourself creeping through your basement brandishing a crystal vase (the closest thing to a weapon you could find after that thing that went bump in the night woke you.)

So how do I secure the perimetre to protect not only the house, but my jumpy nerves when my sailor is away?

This one’s a no-brainer, but lock your doors when you’re at home. Lock ’em while you’re out puttering in the yard, too, even if you live in a nice neighbourhood. You don’t want to give someone the opportunity to slip inside while you’re mulching your rose bushes or whatever it is gardeners do.

Many break-ins are crimes of opportunity. Put away tools like axes, hammers and shovels that could be used to break a window. This goes for ladders, too. You don’t want to give the athletic criminal access to your second floor.

That spare key you keep hidden under the flower pot on the porch? You’re not fooling anyone with your spy-level secret hiding place. Don’t keep a key outside your house! If you’re that concerned about locking yourself out, leave a key with a trustworthy neighbour.

Don’t count on the dog to keep you safe, even if she’s a tough one. A dog or even a Beware of Dog sign may be a deterrent, but don’t let your guard down just because Precious is on duty.

If you come home and see signs of a break-in get out! Don’t investigate. Just leave and call 911. The last thing you want to do is corner a thief in your house.

I know and practice all this, so in theory I should feel brave when my sailor sails off into the sunset.

For the most part I do…until the sun goes down.

True Confession. . .

004I spent a glorious July weekend holed up inside watching AMC’s The Walking Dead marathon.

It gets worse. . .

The sun was shining on the screen so I closed the blinds. I didn’t want to miss even one gooey walker grin or close-up of Darryl’s manly biceps flexing as he handled his cross bow.

I’m not into horror, really. I only watch for the character development, honest (and Darryl’s bulging muscles, obviously).

After watching all three seasons and conducting extensive online research (yes, this is really what I do in my spare time), I have some tips for surviving a zombie apocalypse.

The earthquake kit I keep meaning to assemble and put in the trunk of my car would be very useful if we had to hit the road, as would a good pair of running shoes. There’s a reason none of the survivors wear flip flops or stilettos. Quiet pets such as cats or goldfish are preferable to yappy Chihuahuas–sorry, Penny!

My number one survival tip in the unlikley event of a zombie apocalypse: stick close to my sailor.

True, my sailor lacks the sexy drawl of a Georgia sheriff’s deputy and he doesn’t have Darryl’s bad-ass appeal (he’s more aging boy scout than bad boy with a heart of gold), but his recent pre-deployment training would probably come in handy.

My sailor is a strong swimmer, a good driver, an experienced camper and can start a fire even without fire starter. I doubt he’d be any good at catching squirrels, but that’s okay because I don’t eat red meat. (Note: I assume squirrels are red meat. I have no experperience either preparing or consuming squirrel meat on which to base this theory.)

Most important, my sailor is steady and dependable and would stick by me even though I’d likely slow the group down.

I just hope he gets home before the zombies arrive.