Tap to view the makeshift toilet discussion at full size.
Here’s a close-up of that “pool noodle on a 5-gallon bucket” toilet. It’s impressive and a little disturbing at the same time:
Here’s another suggestion to use a paint bucket that paints a slightly darker picture:
I don’t know about you, but I’ve filled our giant wheeled trash and recycling bins with water (and a little bleach) that we can use to flush our toilets. If that fails, I’m going to make like the neighborhood cats and just poop in the yard.
Where we are — the Seminole Heights neighborhood in Tampa — the rain has begun to fall in earnest, and we’re now just waiting to see what happens when Hurricane Ian arrives.
We used to have 1/2″ and 3/4″ plywood sheets with pre-drilled holes that we’d slip onto bolts sticking out of our window frames when a hurricane came. The bolts weren’t the most aesthetically-pleasing thing, and the plywood took a lot of storage space and was a real pain to set up and tear down.
After the last hurricane came through town, we’d decided that we’d had enough of the plywood approach and started looking at other hurricane-proofing solutions for the windows and went with hurricane fabric: kevlar panels with mounting brackets held in place by screws going into holes embedded in the window frame or wall. During non-hurricane times, plastic plugs go into the screw holes.
We have a panel for every window in the house, and the whole set fits in a closet. It would take me a whole afternoon (and ideally, another person to assist) to cover the windows the old plywood way; I can now do the job solo in about an hour with the panels.
Here’s a demo of hurricane fabric in action:
Unpleasant as the replacement costs would be, you consider your windows expendable in hurricane country. What you really want is something that will prevent hurricane projectiles from entering your house (and more gravely, entering you.) We’re counting on the hurricane fabric’s combination of strength and “give” to deflect whatever the cat 3 or cat 4 winds decided to hurl chez nous.
Tap to view the purple deliciousness at full size.
If you’re looking for a different kind of dessert, check out the ube ice cream sandwiches at Mata’s Philippine Cuisine in Tampa (on West Waters, a quick drive west of Dale Mabry)!
Ube (pronounced “OOO-beh”) is a sweet purple yam from the Philippines. It has a flavor that I describe as a mild mix of vanilla, white chocolate, and hazelnuts. It’s been a Filipino sweets staple for centuries, but only in the past decade has it become popular in North America. That’s a shame, because you’ve been missing out on some amazing, colorful dishes as a result!
They put the ice cream between “krispy treats” made out of sticky puffed rice (which often gets called pinipig in the Philippines, but that isn’t accurate). Just think of it as ube ice cream between Filipino rice krispies treats and enjoy the flavor.
And before you say “No, this is the fringe,” let me disabuse of that false notion right now. This is the new mainstream, and it’s been part of the alt-right playbook for years now:
Last night was just a tropical storm and not a hurricane, but Nebraska Avenue south of Sligh — not a tiny road, but a main thoroughfare — flooded so much that a number of cars had stalled out there. It gave me serious Philippines deja vu, where flooding often happens after a typhoon.
We flew home from Toronto yesterday, and fortunately, we landed about 20 minutes before the storm hit. I took the photo above from our ride.
Here’s another suggestion to use a paint bucket that paints a slightly darker picture:
I don’t know about you, but I’ve filled our giant wheeled trash and recycling bins with water (and a little bleach) that we can use to flush our toilets. If that fails, I’m going to make like the neighborhood cats and just poop in the yard.
