#instead it feels like the world skipped like an old dvd just a quick pause and then it resumes like nothing happened

[waitingforminjae]

it's funny the way it feels like everything should stop when someone dies, but it never does

[impalas-r-important]

Love of my Life - (3) Movie Night

Summary: Y/N and Nick find a way to fill their free time, followed by a movie night.

Warnings: N/A

Series Masterlist

It had been a few weeks since Nick had come to stay at Bobby’s house and the three of you had grown fond of him. You had spent a fair amount of time with Nick, helping him with what he needed, but also just hanging out. You hadn’t been waking up depressed for the first time since you had come back to life. Sam and Bobby went on a quick salt and burn case a few hours outside of town, leaving you and Nick with the house to yourselves. You were sitting on the front porch in a rickety old rocking chair enjoying the sun that had peaked through the clouds on a surprisingly warm February afternoon.

“There you are.” Nick opened the front door and peaked his head out. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.” You motioned to the chair next to yours.

He sat down with a sigh. “Wow, it feels great out here.” He remarked. “I’m going a bit stir crazy inside that house.”

“I feel you there. Cases have been few and far between lately. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for a little break now and then, but I feel like I should be shooting something.”

“Yeah…” Nick nodded, and a smile grew on his face. “Wait here. I’ve got an idea.” He hobbled inside as quick as he could which entertained you. A few seconds later, he came out with a full garbage bag.

“What in the world are you doing?” You asked as he carefully made his way down the steps and towards a rusted, beat up car that had clearly been used for target practice a few times. He set the bag down on the ground and pulled out empty soda and beer cans, lining them up on the hood and the roof of the car. Nick had tucked a 9mm gun into the back of his belt, which he pulled out and handed to you.

“Ladies first.” He flashed a bright white smile at you, and you took the gun from his hand. You walked over to the porch railing and lined up the cans, quickly picking them off one by one until the clip was empty. You ejected the clip, spun the gun around in your hand (a trick you had learned from Dean) and returned it to Nick.

“Oh, damn.” Nick whistled. “I like a girl that can handle a gun.” He looked you up and down.

“Oh, I can handle much more than that.” You winked at him and reloaded the clip. Nick set up more cans and took his turn. He hit every one of them, just like you.

“Alright,” you nodded, “new guy can hit a can from 20 feet away. Let’s up the ante.”

“What do you have in mind?” He mischievously smiled at you.

“Give me ten minutes.”

You went inside and grabbed your sniper rifle. You were so excited to buy this thing, but you’d only ever had the opportunity to use it once. This was the perfect excuse for some practice. You slung it over your back, grabbed a few rounds and headed back outside.

“Now we’re talking!” Nick’s face lit up when he saw the gun you were carrying. You set it down on the porch and picked up the bag of cans, walking to the other end of Bobby’s salvage yard and climbing a ladder to reach the top of an old shed. You set up 5 cans for each of you and returned to the porch.

“Best of 5, loser makes dinner and cleans up the cans.” You explained the rules to Nick as you loaded 2 clips with 5 rounds in each magazine. “Ladies first.” You mocked as you held the rifle out to him.

He slowly took a few steps towards you, giving you a playful look with his tongue pressed to his top teeth. He towered over you for a few seconds, keeping eye contact as he took the gun from your hands and gave you a competitive yet flirty look which you returned. He set up on the small table on the porch and took his aim.

His first shot was a miss. “Relax, relax. Don’t get too excited just yet.” He waved his hand at you. “That was like a pancake, first one is always a tester.”

You put your hands up in the air. “I didn’t say anything.”

He readjusted and cracked his knuckles, looking into the scope. The next 4 were hits. Nick pulled away from the gun and began to eject the clip. “4 out of 5 ain’t too shabby. I’m thinking I’m in the mood for a steak dinner.” He teased.

“Alright, fine. I’ll admit it, you’re good.” You picked up the magazine with your rounds sitting on the table and added one more bullet to it as you brushed passed him and whispered playfully, “but I’m better.” Nick raised his eyebrows at you and watched as you knelt down, calibrating the scope to your needs and fired of 5 rapid shots, hitting each of your cans, before using your added bullet to knock down the can that he had missed. You flipped your hair behind your shoulders and looked over to see his reaction. He was looking you up and down and quickly looked away and blushed when he noticed you had caught him staring.

“You know what, steak dinner does sound good.” You winked, sauntered over to him and handed him the bag to pick up the cans from the yard. “Come on, I’ll help. I’m not going to make the gimp clean them all up.” You walked down the step and bent over to pick up cans. Nick joined you.

“Let me ask you something, Y/N.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I had obviously heard of the Winchester brothers, but I had heard a fair amount about you as well.”

“Oh? Like what?” You were caught off guard that the hunting community knew who you were.

“Stuff like how you look like the girl-next-door, but you could take down 5 demons by yourself.”

You chuckled. “That was one time, and I probably got lucky.”

“I mean, clearly, you’re a dead shot. I just witnessed that with my own eyes. Everyone also talked about how you were absolutely beautiful,” he paused and looked at you with a small smile, “which I can testify to be more than true.” This made your heart skip a beat and you tried to fight the blush you could feel creeping onto your cheeks. “But they all said you were off-limits because you were Dean’s girl, and Dean would kill anyone who even looked at you the wrong way. Maybe it’s none of my business, but what happened between you two? From everything I heard, you were inseparable, but here I am flirting with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, and there’s no Dean around to stop me.”

You weren’t completely sure that you wanted to talk about this, but you trusted Nick. What happened between you and Dean was over and talking about it was just part of the process of moving on. You took a deep breath and threw a can into the black garbage bag. “I ended up dying in the big showdown with Lucifer. Maybe I was being a reckless idiot, but he was beating the crap out of Dean and I couldn't just stand there and let Dean die."

“Oh, wow. I didn’t know that…” Nick gave you a sympathetic look.

“Sam and I were brought back pretty soon after that. We were confused and went to go find Dean, figuring he had made some sort of dumbass deal to bring us back. I was completely unprepared to see him already living with another woman. He had moved on, which he had every right to. I mean, I didn’t think that I would be back from the dead, and I’m sure he didn’t either, but I was devastated that he had moved on so quickly. I guess he didn’t love me as much as I loved him. Sam and I kept Dean in the dark for a year about us being back because he had a new family and seemed happy. Who were we to take that away from him? But it was a rough year for me. He is, or I thought he was, the love of my life. He was everything to me, and it turns out I was just another girl to him. That was a hard pill to swallow.” You looked around for more cans to pick up but didn’t find any and switched your focus to kicking rocks instead. “He found out that we were back because we had to intervene after some Djinn were trying to kill him and Lisa and Ben. Dean convinced us to make Bobby’s house our home base and stay here in between hunts. He and I have barely talked about our relationship, but it’s been pretty clear the whole time that he’s done with me. Dean and I would always talk about getting out of the hunting life and building a farmhouse in some small town in the middle of nowhere. Maybe even starting a family. But he found that with someone else and I wouldn’t want to break up his newfound happiness.”

“Damn.” Nick joined you in kicking rocks with his non-booted foot as the two of you walked back to the house. “Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m a pretty good listener.” You nodded and he could tell that you were done talking about this. “Now let’s go buy some steak. I don’t mean to brag, but I’m pretty much a grill master.” He gave you a warm smile and placed his hand on the small of your back as you walked up the steps. “Hey, Y/N, did you really punch the Devil in the face?”

“Yep. I didn’t know what else to do when I was standing face to face with Lucifer. That smooth move got me killed.” You shrugged.

Sam and Bobby got home that night while Nick was out back grilling up some steaks.

“Something smells damn good.” Bobby remarked as he entered the house.

Sam inhaled and exhaled. “Smells like steak to me.” A smile came across his face as you walked in the back door holding a plate of sirloins.

“Welcome back boys! That was a quick case.” You gave them each a quick side hug.

“Yeah, fairly simple.” Sam licked his lips. “But enough about the case, let’s talk about those steaks. I haven’t eaten all day.”

“Nick lost a little competition we had earlier. He owes me a steak dinner, but if you ask nicely, I might share with you.”

“Me too?” Dean asked as he walked into the house.

“Look what the cat dragged in. I thought you had forgotten about us.” You greeted him. “You gotta earn your keep though, sorry.” You teased him.

“What do you mean?” Dean playfully frowned.

“I won our shooting competition earlier, Nick is on grill duty, and Sam and Bobby just got back from a hunt. What did you do to deserve steak?” You raised your eyebrows at him.

He held up a plastic bag with DVDs inside. “I brought the movies.” He looked at you, waiting for approval.

“Hmm… Did you bring chocolate to go with those movies?” You interrogated.

“Come on, Y/N/N, I know you too well.” Dean reached in the bag and pulled out 3 of your favorite chocolate bars before dropping them back in.

You gave him a childish smile and ran over to him. “Yay!” You grabbed the bag from him and handed him the steak plate. “I’ll get the movie going.” You explained as you walked into the living room.

Dean smiled at you and watched you walk away, his eyes and smile lingering a little too long. Sam noticed and cleared his throat to break his brother’s stare. Dean snapped out of it quickly and looked to the ground before walking into the kitchen with the steaks. Nick had finished cleaning off the grill and followed suit.

“Hey, the whole gang’s here.” Nick smiled and greeted everyone.

“How you feelin’ kid?” Bobby asked as he put a heaping pile of mashed potatoes on his plate.

“A lot better. The ankle still gives me trouble, but it’ll heal sooner or later.” Nick dished up a plate of his own and grabbed an extra plate as well.

“Two plates, huh?” Dean noticed and asked. “You must be hungry.”

“One’s for Y/N. I lost a bet from earlier today, so I suppose I get to be her waiter.” He joked.

“Well don’t worry about, I’ve already got one started for her.” Dean held up the plate next to him that he had already put a steak on.

“Oh, okay. Thanks, man. I can finish it up if you want?”

“It’s fine, I know how she likes everything.” Dean’s response was short with hints of possessiveness and anger behind it. Bobby could tell and whacked the back of Dean’s head as soon as Nick had left the room.

“Don’t be stupid, Dean. The kid’s got a crush on Y/N, give him a break. He’s a good one.” Bobby warned.

You were sitting in the middle of the couch and Nick sat down on one side of you as you skipped through the commercials before the movie. He leaned in and whispered, “I don’t think Dean likes me very much.”

You giggled and answered, “Dean’s like that with everyone he meets at first. Don’t take it personally.” Dean walked in the room with your food and handed it to you as he sat down on the other side of you.

“Extra mashed potatoes and gravy on everything, just how you like it.” Dean sat his plate down on the coffee table.

“Great,” you thought to yourself, “sitting in between Dean and Nick for a whole movie isn’t going to be weird at all.”

Sam was sitting in the armchair next to the couch and you sent a “help me” look to him, and he just responded with a shrug. You exhaled as quietly as you could and picked up the remote from the table and pressed play.

“Alright, Caddy Shack! I love this movie!” Nick said with a mouthful of food.

Dean loved this movie too, and you could tell he wanted to say something about the movie to Nick but was holding back out of pride. It was going to be a long night.

As soon as the movie was over, Nick stood up and cleared the plates. “I’m beat. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” He shot an extra smile and a quick wink your way. Dean noticed and had to keep himself from balling his fist.

“I’m calling it too, night guys.” Sam gave a wave and headed towards the stairs, leaving you and Dean on the couch together.

“So, any fun plans for your birthday coming up?” You pulled one leg up on the couch and placed your elbow on the back frame, resting your head in your hand and facing Dean.

“Oh, no I don’t think so.” He stretched his legs out on the table and slid one hand behind his head and the other laying on the back of the couch, resting on your arm.

“What? You love your birthday!”

“I do not!”

“Yes, you definitely do! You play it off like you don’t, but we all know it’s your favorite holiday.”

“Yeah, yeah…” He gave you a side smile that made your heart jump a bit. You had to remind yourself that he wasn’t flirting with you, just being nice. It was rare that you and Dean were ever alone together anymore, but it felt natural.

“A few years ago, you literally made me celebrate ‘birthday week’ with you. Remember?”

“I woke you up at sunrise and we drove cross country to see the Grand Canyon.” Dean smiled, clearly getting lost in his reminiscing. “Then we couldn’t find even the crappiest motel room to stay in, so we slept in the Impala and it was freezing. That was my favorite birthday.”

“Well, I’m still planning on making your birthday pie. If you want me to, that is.”

“Hell yes I do! I’m thinking classic apple. Yours is still the best I’ve ever had. I dream about swimming in that pie sometimes.”

“You got it, birthday boy.”

“Do you remember the first time you made me pie for my birthday?”

“Of course I do. It was horrible. I practiced a lot between then and the next year and you have to admit, I’m pretty damn good now.”

“I just remember the look on your face when I walked into the kitchen and you were covered in flour. I wish I had a picture of that moment.” Dean threw his head back in laughter.

“I wanted it to be a surprise! I didn’t think you’d be awake at 3 in the morning. It was going to be a birthday breakfast pie.”

“How could I sleep with you making all that noise in the kitchen? Plus, I turned over in bed to cuddle with you and you were gone. Obviously, I went to go find you.” Dean paused. “I never really could sleep well without you beside me. Still don’t.” He looked at you with longing emerald eyes, but you quickly broke the eye contact and stood up.

“Yeah… Well, I should get to bed. Goodnight, Dean.”

“Goodnight, Y/N/N.” Dean knew he had over-stepped.

Dean found himself wanting to grab you by the hand and pull you into a big hug or follow you upstairs and tell you that he was still in love with you, but Sam’s words rang true in his head. He had made his bed, and now he had to sleep in it. He chose Lisa, but he didn’t want to go home to her. He wanted you back. He wanted the hunting life back. He wanted to live here with you and Sam, but he felt like he was slowly being replaced with Nick. Sam got along with him, Bobby clearly liked him, and he flirted with you every chance he got. Dean wanted nothing more than to yell at Nick to leave and never come back or to give him a swift punch in the face for looking at you with adoration in his eyes, but Dean knew that he couldn’t do that. He walked across the room and grabbed a pillow and blanket from the basket in the corner and laid down on the couch, hoping to fall asleep quickly.

You made your way upstairs, trying to hold back tears until you made it into your room. It was one thing to remember fun times you two had together, but how could Dean so casually throw in that he doesn’t sleep well without you? If felt like a punch to the gut and you wanted to be mad, but then he would look at you with those stupid handsome eyes and you would melt into a spineless puddle. Half of you wanted to scream and yell at Dean, and the other half wanted to grab him by the hand and take him upstairs with you. The truth was, you didn’t sleep great without him either, but you were afraid of the can of worms that might open if you told him that. The second you shut your door, you leaned against it and slowly slid down to the floor as the tears began to fall from your eyes.

Chapter 4

[leigh-kelly]

Textile

Your professor keeps you after class, asking about the two classes you’d missed last week. You’d had the flu, and though you’d try to force yourself out of bed and down to class, your wife had insisted you stay in bed. You were sick, really sick, and she was worried you’d get even worse if you tried to go to class. She was worried about you not having health insurance. She was worried, and lately, it feels like you’ve both done too much of that. But still, she takes care of you, in sickness, and in health.

After assuring your professor that you won’t miss any more class, you step out into the cold February air. You pull your coat more tightly around yourself, and when you breathe in deep, you’re hit with a wracking cough, a residual of your flu. Once the cough subsides, you sigh heavily, and you close your eyes, nearly walking into the guy selling DVDs on the corner of Greene Street.

It’s your anniversary. Two years ago today, you’d been in Indiana, wrapped in your wife’s arms, feeling more joy than you’ve ever felt in your life. In love, so in love. In two years, that love has gone nowhere, it’s just as strong as it was the day you said “I do,” stronger, maybe, but that’s not to say life since you’ve been married hasn’t been difficult.

Sometimes your hot water doesn’t work, sometimes it scalds you when you shower. Sometimes your heat doesn’t work, sometimes it works too much. Sometimes you work too late, sometimes she does. Sometimes she spends all night in the lab, sometimes you don’t come home from the library. Sometimes you make love on the couch as soon as you walk in the door, and sometimes you argue in the stairwell. Sometimes you’re short on the rent, and one of you has to pick up extra shifts, and sometimes you make it without worrying. Sometimes you cry because you’re so tired, and sometimes she does.

But you have each other. You remind yourself that as you walk home in the damp cold, scarf wrapped tight around your face. You walk, because you’d skipped buying your weekly MetroCard so you could buy her a gift, and you know, you know, no matter how hard everything feels sometimes, having her is still the best thing in the world. Having her is what gets you through it all. for better, or for worse.

Trudging up the stairs, you groan at how much you resent living in a fifth floor walkup. After four years living in New York City, you’re still not sure why everything is so expensive. Nadia, the woman downstairs, gives you a tired smile, and you stop for just a quick moment to coo at the squirming infant in her arms. By the time you make it to the top, you’re winded, and you pause for a moment outside the door, catching your breath.

You lose it again, when you step inside your apartment, and your heart quickens in your chest. The living room is bathed in candle light, and the white sheets draped over the furniture seem to glow orange among it. Quickly, you unzip your boots, you remove your coat, and you drop your things on the floor in the entryway. Even in your noisy, stale smelling building, your apartment is a respite, but like this…

“Santana?” She calls out, voice wafting out from the kitchen.

“I’m home.” You call back, padding across the wood floor in your socks, until you reach her, standing before the stove. “Hey.”

“Hi.” She turns to you and smiles, glass of wine in her hand. Instantly the stress of your day melts, and you step toward her, letting her engulf you in her embrace.

“You did this?”

“Uh huh.” Her response is muffled by your dark hair, and you bury your face in the crook of her neck. “Second anniversary is supposed to be cloth…”

“It is.” You smile knowingly. “I’m sorry I’m late. Dr. Murkowski wanted to talk to me about last week.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“No, it’s fine.” You shake your head. “Don’t wanna talk about school or anything tonight anyway.”

“Two years.”

“Two years. Happy anniversary, babe.”

“To a thousand more?”

“Maybe like, a hundred?” You smile into her skin. “I don’t think I want to live to see a million.”

“Not here, but…wherever we go when we die, I know I’ll still be with you.”

You don’t say anything else. Instead, you just close your eyes and savor the feeling of her arms around you. You savor the safety of that. And most of all, you simply savor her. Your wife, the women who loves you. The woman who cherishes you. The woman who takes care of you. She sends you to put your pajamas on, and you comply. Briefly, you consider the lingerie tucked in your bottom drawer. That wedding white, worn the night you became hers. But you decide against that. It doesn’t feel like that sort of night. Instead, you settle on flannel pants, blue and white, a soft t-shirt, fuzzy socks, one of her sweatshirts, purple NYU logo emblazoned across the front. Carefully, you tuck her gift into your kangaroo pocket, and you squeeze it one last time, hoping she likes it, before you go back to her.

When you step back into the candlelit living room, you see her shadowy figure inside the white blanket fort she’d built you. You stare for a moment, watching her move around inside, watching her body seem to dance as the candles flicker. Then, when you’re through, you duck inside her makeshift door, and she grins sheepishly at you, presenting a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches, presenting your forgotten glass of wine.

You want to kiss her then for a thousand years. Things like this, they make your chest ache, they make your skin prickle. Things are hard sometimes, but then, she builds you a fort and make you grilled cheese sandwiches for your anniversary. She lights the room with candles, and she gives you this look, like you’re the one who’s so special. You love her, you love her so deeply, and it makes you want to cry.

“What’s wrong?” She whispers, pushing a fallen lock of your dark hair off of your face.

“Nothing.” You shake your head, in awe of her. “Everything is just so right. This, you, all of it. You’re seriously…you still make me so happy, and you still make me feel so loved. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Well you must, since you do it for me too.”

“It’s not the same.

"But it is.” Her lips press against yours, and you cradle her face, staring into deep blue eyes.

“This really is perfect.” You whisper.

“I know it’s not a lot, but…it felt like maybe it would be romantic.”

“It is. It’s…really, maybe the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for me.”

“That—” She laughs, shaking her head. “Really doesn’t make me feel like I’ve ever done anything that romantic for you.”

“No. No!” You take the half of a sandwich she offers you, and you hum as you bite it. “You always do romantic things for me, I just..I don’t know, maybe it’s just because I’ve been sick, and so stressed out, but…I really needed to hide in a fort with my wife and eat grilled cheese sandwiches.”

“I kinda needed it too.” She rolls her neck, and pops the cartilage in it. “It’s been a long winter.”

“God, it has.” You sip your wine, and consider shoving the rest of your sandwich in your mouth, just so you can lay down with her.

“Are you tired?”

“Are you not?”

“Fair point.” She smiles. “We can go to bed, if you want.”

“I don’t. I want to stay in here with you all night. I want to make love you in here. I want to wake up naked with you in here tomorrow morning.”

“Wow, that sounds good.”

Her laughter warms you. It always has, since you were thirteen years old, and you first saw her face, giggling at your first cheerleading practice. You didn’t know what it was then, the warmth that bloomed in the pit of your stomach. You didn’t know that warmth would grow into a low ache, a desperate longing for something you couldn’t have. You didn’t know that she’d kiss you one night, quick, and testing, and your body felt like it would burst into flames. You didn’t know you’d fall in love with her, and that she’d love you back. You didn’t know that she’d be your wife, building you a fort in the living room of your tiny East Village apartment.

She traces the tattoo on the inside of your pinky, your anniversary gift to each other last year. You watch the tip of her finger trail over the letters, the reminder of the promise you’ve made to each other over and over again. You finish your sandwich, and you finish your wine, letting her pull you toward her. You lean back against the pillows, and she follows you down, pressing her face so close that her eyelashes brush yours, and her breath tickles your lips. Her weight presses against you, and you suck in a breath, filling your lungs so you have your fill when she kisses you.

Her nose brushes yours, and she kisses you deeply, so deeply. You feel fingers weave through your hair, and your heart pounds in your chest. Sometimes, it feels like the first time all over again, it’s like that now. In linens and candlelight, she kisses your eyelids, your nose, your neck, and you savor each press of her lips, you savor how her heart pounds against hers. You savor her, because she’s everything, and so much more.

She undresses you slowly, kissing each inch of skin that her efforts reveal. You close your eyes, and you just feel. She’s woven into the fabric of your being, each thread of her twisting with your own, making you whole. You make love in your cocoon, skin pressed against skin, lips pressed against lips, limbs entwined with limbs. When you fall back, gasping for breath, tears prick the back of your eyes, emotion clogs your throat. Her blue eyes fill with concern as she kisses your clavicle, and she brushes sweat adhered hair from your forehead. She’ll love you this way always, you’re certain of it, and it makes you gasp for breath. She’s yours, as long as you both shall live.

“Good tears.” You whisper, as tears streak down your cheeks. “Good tears.”

“Okay.” She kisses them away, and more replace them.

“Sometimes I’m still in awe that you chose me. Sometimes I’m still in awe that you made me believe that I deserve you.”

“You’re the love of my life. You’ve always been.”

“I got you something.” You choke out.

“We weren’t supposed to.” She pulls her lip between her teeth, and she sucks in a breath. “I didn’t get you anything.”

“You got me this.” You look around you, and when you shiver, she covers your bare skin with the comforter from your bed. “It’s so much more than what I got you.”

“You shouldn’t have.”

“I couldn’t not.”

You reach for your discarded hoodie, slipping the small wrapped box from your front pocket. You slip it into her hands, watching as she tears the paper, watching as she opens the hinged box. It’s her turn to cry, when she sees what you’ve given her, and in turn, your tears fall faster. She fingers the delicate chain, and she looks closely, reading the words on the cloth encased in the pendant. Like she is twisted in the fibers of your being, the words are on the textile.

“Our wedding vows.”

“I wanted you to have them close to your heart, to know that I mean them every day.”

“I already do.” She breathes. “You didn’t have to do this, but I love it. It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Cloth anniversary.” You shrug, and a smile spreads across her face. “You knew that.”

“I did.” She holds out the necklace to you, and you clasp it around her neck, kissing her shoulder.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Santana, infinitely.”

[thecoroutfitters]

Written by R. Ann Parris on The Prepper Journal.

Editors Note: A contribution from R. Ann Parris. The Prepper Journal hopes the content of the summit recommended here lives up to her expectations, as does she! Also note this starts in just five (5) days.

Free Online Summit & Email Protections

Every year we see more and more free online summits come out. Some are excellent. Some are … not. Most have good nuggets in there somewhere.

This time around, it’s the Self Reliant School hosting one. (I am not affiliated with SRS, nor to my knowledge, with any of its staff or scheduled speakers.) They have 28 speakers on a wide variety of topics running from Sept. 10-Sept. 16.

As usual, you visit a site, http://backtobasicssummit.com/, and provide a name and an email – some tips for that later. They send you a “Welcome” email and it usually includes some goodies.

SRS’s “Back to Basics” summit is no different there. This time around the freebies you can download just for signing up are, in PDF format:

Day After Disaster (150+ page fiction piece by Sara F. Hathaway, the uncut edition from “The Changing Earth” series; somewhat unique in prepper fiction in that it takes a woman’s perspective – I’ll try to read it tomorrow night)

Easy Homemade Crackers

Oxygen-Absorber Chart

Simple Salad Dressings

The Soda Quick Start Guide

Tutorials for Homesteaders (It’s actually recipes for sauerkraut, smoking bacon & gouda cheese.)

Several include links to related or additional information within the pdfs.

Videos Released Daily

I prefer the format of this summit to some of the other types. Each day, they’ll provide access to a set of presentations. You have 21 hours to watch those videos, whenever you want. Whether you can pause and back up or skip ahead remains to be seen.

I haven’t seen many of these speakers before, but the topics and faces are largely fresh compared to some of the prepper and homesteading summits in the last few years.

Not being familiar with past presentations of the speakers, I can’t tell you how many or which ones will basically be 15-30 minute advertisements for their books and DVDs sets, etc., but even when there’s self-pumping, there’s regularly good information available, too.

Nor can I tell you how many are going to stay close to topic, which has been an issue with some of the prepper-focused summits in the past, or how much is going to end up being a re-hash of stuff we hear pretty much every summit.

Even so, it’s free. If you also have open internet access, it might be worth giving a listen.

Topics of Interest

I’m doing a quickie TPJ write-up for this instead of just posting it to my forums because some of the presentations are actually topics that I’ve seen come up here as suggestions and questions. Some of those include:

“Never Buy Garden Seeds Again – How Our Ancestors Had it Right”

“Seed Saving”

“How to Plan a Year’s Supply of Food”

“Jump Start Your Urban Farm”

“Secret Garden of Survival” (This one may be repetitive if you’ve watched others, but it’s really, really, really good if it is what he’s presented before.)

“Year Round Gardening” (Season extenders if it holds true to his DVD-book-online course)

“Starting a Homestead from Scratch”

“DIY Everything” (I suspect this may be about the DIY mindset or basic tools, because that’s a pretty broad topic; if it’s a book or DVD set, I will suspect lots of self-promotion)

Intros to mylar bag storage, preservation, & canning

Off-the-grid lifestyle challenges and perks

Syrup tapping and boiling, farm cheese, bread, & booze among other recipes

Intros to homesteading businesses, budgeting, & frugality needs

Homestead purchase & setup tips

    Put Up Protections

The summit is free. Since it’s free, it will likely include not only the daily emails during the summit, but also several to “many” ad-type emails leading up to it.

They’ll be pushing not only their own sale of the presentations to watch at our leisure (wait until some of us watch to buy – we’ll stick up reviews and an overall “great” or “too much of this is out there for free somewhere to be worth THAT much money”), but probably the sale items offered by sponsors, presenters and people/things the presenters promote.

That’s part of what you get with free summits.

Happily, it’s more free than the “let me send you a free knife” that costs $10-25 to ship and comes with a lifetime of spam that will find you and all of your friends.

Too, there are ways to make these things easier to deal with.

One, set up a “drop” account.

Go with gmail if you like. It’s apparently preferred by the SRS summit’s tech people. I go with Yahoo and Hotmail for “use-and-forget” accounts. I find them faster and easier to set up, and they rarely make me jump through hoops to log in from different devices and locations.

Use an initial, nickname, location, inside joke, or favorite author instead of your actual first and last name. Something like “C Lemmingsrun”, “Four Freestuff”, “H Franklin”, or “My Prp-Ntwkg”.

Write these down somewhere, either physically or keep a little notepad sheet with a running tally of account info, along with the password or a hint to your password – which ideally does not match the password for your actual emails and other accounts.

Two, DON’T link/synch that email to the ones you open and use daily – you’ll just have to wade through stuff you want if you do.

Three, If you email yourself or somebody else from your free-stuff spam-happy email account, delete the contact information later. That way, if it ends up out in the world, you’re not sending crap to everyone you know and yourself.

Keep The Spam Temp

I do have “drop” accounts that have developed somewhat long lifespans, usually for preparedness networking or those free sites. Some of them are solely for initial contact, and if I decide you’re a keeper, you get pushed to a more permanent drop account and updated when I move on.

The biggie though, is that besides stuff like monthly site contests (grabagun, seedsnow, etc.), once a competition or freebie’s time has come and gone, I largely unsubscribe to the site(s). No more email inundation, mass “delete”, easy-peasy.

Yes, some stuff is persistent. Happily, the free email providers I use allow for me to block and-or report persistent problems (unsubscribe first, or you won’t be able to get their stuff from another run).

Then, when I feel like it, I can abandon that drop email account, without it ever having affected my business or personal email accounts or my preparedness networking accounts.

  Online Summits & Drawback Mitigation

Online summits do require you to have the bandwidth available for them, which is a bummer. Locations like McD’s, Starbucks, and the public library may work with some, but most of us would only hang out for an hour or two, tops.

Even if you’re not going to “attend” you may want to go ahead and sign up. Eventually they’ll drop the price for the summit for members.

I’ll try to check back here after the first day or two to give a quickie review of “so far” and how much new and useful information is available with that buy-skip roundup later.

That way, you’ll have some feedback to help decide about buying if you just can’t watch it but wanted to.

As I said, this is a new summit and SRS is a new host for me. I don’t know if it’s going to be QA, stay on topic, be sale promotions, or be useful.

I’m not familiar with many of the speakers. I’m likely to go do more research on them to see what they’ve done in the past to help me decide which ones I’ll watch. I’m lucky enough to have a job where I can get hours of listening done, and September is still processing season, so I can pop a device open while I husk, shell, winnow, chop, sweep, wash dishes, and groom animals.

I can already tell you there are presentations I’m likely to skip. They just don’t hold interest for me at my stage. However, I’m likely to keep a notepad open for marking good tips, info to research and regulate the video times, and I usually run some commentary on the preparedness forum where I’m an admin and moderator.

Good or bad, the freebie summits usually have something for everybody, beginner or old hat. (Psst … take no single authority’s word for anything.)

With some five-minute steps ahead of time to keep from being inundated with spam and reminders, we can take advantage of those freebies and good nuggets without having to pull our hair out.

Hope you can catch it and add to the reviews!

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