Gone loopy

Recently I took up crocheting, the theory being that if I can’t survive a zombie apocalypse, at least I can have nice coasters.
Crocheting is like knitting, but with one hook instead of two needles. Correspondingly, it requires half a brain to do, which is twice as much as I have.
Crocheting bucks up morale by the same amount as eating oatmeal.
But after hours of looping, tying, and twisting, I am left with an admirable result: a yarn snarl that Alexander the Great would not hesitate to cut through with a sword.
I do not own a sword, which is another reason why I wouldn’t survive a zombie apocalypse.
I’d be the first one left behind after my neighborhood watch discovered I had no useful skills such as tracking, carpentry, or at least tax accounting.
Maybe someone with my cranial capacity doesn’t have much to fear from brain-hungry individuals.
Besides, the undead don’t rise every day. Do you really have to learn basic survival skills?
But I bet everyone who’s found themselves barricading the doors while their kindly neighbor Frank chomps at the deadbolt has wished they started preparing sooner.
I bet they wish that even if their neighbor isn’t Frank. He could be a Herbert, or even a Maybelle. The point remains.
How should we prepare? I’m glad you asked, neighborhood reader.
I shall tell you, so you’ll know I have useful talents and shouldn’t be left as bait for the coming hordes.
People like me always become bait in movies. I am sure I speak for all of us when I say, NO, PLEASE, AHHH!
To return to your question, dear reader (kind, wonderful reader who will defend me with a machete), preparedness can be learned from the Boy Scouts.
Ignore for the moment that I was never a Boy Scout, or even a Girl Scout. I can’t make cookies to save my life. But I can provide valuable entertainment in the form of juggling.

All right, I thought it’d look more impressive in print.
You know who else looks impressive? The living dead. I mean the walking dead. I mean federal representatives. Whatever. You get it.
In a horror scenario, signaling for help would be useful. For now, let’s assume the rescue service is rescuing the rescue service rather than servicing the non-rescuers.
So help won’t come for several days. Or as I’ve started to mark time, help won’t come for two and a half coasters.
Shelter, water, fire, and food are your main priorities, depending on your situation. If you’re a good survivalist, you’ll find or make those in nature.
Most of us aren’t nature-dwellers, though. There aren’t a lot of places where all four needs could be met, unless you count a supermarket.
How long could you survive in there? We’ve all thought about it.
I think I could stretch it to a few weeks, even if I had to actually eat green beans instead of hiding them in napkins or the dog.
If I camped in the freezer section, I’d stay warm, thanks to crocheted hats, sweaters, and scarves.
Since I can only crochet circles of varying sizes, the effect would not be snazzy. But it’s about time we moved to simpler fashions.
I hope I could be helpful, even without survival skills. And I’m willing to learn.
Who knows? Someday I could become the best survivalist on the planet.
That’s if everyone else is a zombie.

Copyright 2024 Alexandra Paskhaver, distributed exclusively by Cagle Cartoons newspaper syndicate.