Just updated the post on shifting financial records from Quicken to Excel, by way of making it worthy of submission to the Carnival of Personal Finance. So if you’re interested in the English-major approach to tracking income and expenses in Excel and to making the program do a rudimentary tax report, you might want to revisit that. 😉
A visit to Richistan
So La Maya calls at 7:15 and announces that instead of our daily constitutional she wants to make a run on an estate sale advertised to be full of Native American crafts and Southwestern artwork. It’s in a ritzy part of town, a detail that makes the ad highly enticing.
We journey east into the rising sun and the rush-hour traffic. Takes us a half-hour to reach a hidden development nestled discreetly in the shadow of Camelback Mountain. “Ritzy” understates matters.
An enclave of large but subtly designed houses on vast lots, the place is way too classy to be gated. This evidently is where the old money fled after the parvenus moved into the Biltmore and started building hideous McMansions. The houses sprawl low to the ground: no second stories and few two-story-high cathedrals. Landscaping is what you wish you could buy with your ten or twenty grand…looks like what some designer figures the Sonoran desert would look like if only it could afford him.
Shortly we found the estate sale. Apparently the property was owned by an artist, or by someone who fancied him- or herself an artist and had plenty of money to indulge that conceit. Unbelievable. All of the walls were hand-painted with sepia-toned murals in cowboy themes. Someone had plastered river rocks around the base of a set of clerestory windows and painted the surrounding wall a brilliant cobalt blue. Windows and walls were festooned with Indian and cowboy objets: feathers and spurs and cowboy hats and silver medallions encrusted with turquoise.
Whoever lived there had interesting taste and plenty of cash to spend on it. With the exception of a couple of custom-upholstered Ethan Allen chairs and a pair of gorgeous tan leather sofas, none of the furniture was mass-produced. Everything was one-of-a-kind, either artisan-made or antique, and most of it was very handsome. The view out the back: astonishing! Camelback mountain close-up filled the sky over the backyard.
The sale featured a lot of Indianoid pottery and small tourist-size rugs. I don’t know enough about Navajo rugs to recognize the genuine article at a glance, but I do know that bright colors are questionable…and too many of them featured splashy reds and blues. As for the pottery: the glaze designs were a bit crude for authenticity. Of my pots, the ones I know are real (from New Mexico and Peru) are signed; the one I know is a knock-off is unsigned. None of the estate-sale “Indian” pots were signed. I guessed they were high-quality tourist stuff. Prices ranging from $30 to $95 suggested the same: estate sale operators usually know what they’re looking at, and they set prices accordingly.
La Maya picked up a large Talavera pot, very pretty. But as we drew near to the cash register, she realized that what she thought was a $15 price tag actually read “As IS.” They wanted $50 for it, crack and all. She decided not.
Though we came away empty-handed, we had a good time exploring the ways our betters live. As we were standing in the backyard gazing at the landmark mountain, La Maya remarked on what I thought was the neighbor’s expansive Santa Fe-style house.
“That’s not the neighbor’s place,” said she, “that’s on this piece of property. Look: the cabana and patio extend back to it—it opens onto them.”
Holy mackerel. These people had two full-sized houses on a gigantic slab of prime real estate, one of them eccentrically decorated in late Southwestern artiste and the other a quieter and more conventional dwelling.
I think the house that hosted the sale, whose layout was open and whose decor was artsy-fartsy to the nth degree, served discreetly as the artist’s studio and gallery. Unlikely anyone would want to live in it: really, it was pretty bizarre. But if your clientele was very upscale and your product wildly expensive, chances are your business would attract so little traffic that the neighbors wouldn’t complain much.
It was strange. The rich are not like us.
Quicken: Jumping ship
In another two weeks, I’m jumping Intuit’s ship, diving off the side of the SS Quicken into the cool waters of Excel.
Over the past five years as a program administrator, I’ve learned just enough about how Excel works to set up a spreadsheet to operate as a checkbook. Using very basic skills (indeed), I’ve figured out not only how to create a running balance but also how to make Excel reconcile a checkbook against a bank statement. None of this is rocket science. What’s new is realizing I can make a generic program like Excel or its open-source equivalents do all I need Quicken to do.
Because I don’t use Quicken for online banking, my needs for the program are pretty plain-vanilla: keep track of expenses and income, categorize them, create an annual tax report, and reconcile bank accounts. Quicken’s various planning calculators, especially the ones related to loans, come in handy, but similar calculators are all over the Internet.
Nor do I use Turbotax, Intuit’s companion to Quicken, billed as the answer to all your income-tax reporting problems.
Why, you ask, do I eschew Quicken’s whiz-bang online features? Simple: I don’t trust Intuit, a corporation that issues ever-more-bloated versions of its program each year and then forces consumers to buy them by jimmying the code to render data entered in “older” programs unreadable. I can’t say how much I resent that. Also, customer service is nonexistent. It’s a consumer-unfriendly product manufactured by a consumer-unfriendly corporation. There is no way I’m going to put my personal data online through that outfit’s tentacles.
I do my online banking directly with the credit union, thank you. Every financial institution that does business with me makes online transactions and statements readily available. All I need to do that is a reasonably secure browser, say…Firefox running on a Mac, for example.
My taxes are so complicated, there is no chance on God’s green earth I could do them myself, nor would I trust Turbotax to stuff all my square pegs into its round holes. Income has, over the years, derived from salary, contract work, limited partnerships, securities investments, nontaxable bonds, mutual funds, a 403(b), an annuity, a whole life policy, alimony, Social Security, unemployment insurance, sales of real estate, a C-corporation, a sole proprietorship, an S-corporation…it goes on and on. A vast array of laws and loopholes applies to these things, none of them even faintly comprehensible to the amateur.
It’s also very frustrating that Quicken data will convert from PC format to Mac format, but not back. This means that when the day comes that I no longer can afford Macintosh computers—and that day arrived on Tuesday, after I bought the MacBook—to continue using Quicken I will have to start completely anew, losing all historical data. Excel operates smoothly on both platforms, and so I can move between the PC and the Mac with no problem.
After Canning Day, my banking strategy will be much simplified. Instead of disbursing paychecks into various piggybanks (one to cover the monthly credit-card bills; one to “escrow” the annual property tax, homeowner’s insurance, and car insurance; one for monthly savings; one for monthly nondiscretionary bills; one to pool all income; one for the S-corporation; a joint checking account with M’hijito to handle the mortgage payments…and so on ad infinitum), all incoming money will go into one checking account, which will have a $10,000 cushion to back up the poverty-level wages I’ll be making. Most expenses will be paid from this account. The self-escrow account will stay in business, since the only way I can be sure to have enough to cover those breathtaking bills is to set aside $325 a month, every month. I will try to set something aside each month in a savings account to cover budget overruns and buy occasional indulgences like clothing. And of course the joint checking account will have to stay.
That will cut the number of credit-union accounts from eleven to four, not counting the redundant savings accounts, which sit dormant and so really don’t need to be reconciled anyway.
Further simplifying matters is the S-corporation itself. When The Copyeditor’s Desk was a sole proprietorship, I ran business income and expenses through my personal checking and credit-card accounts. This meant I had to run a category report for the tax lawyer. Now all tax-related items except the mortgage interest and medical costs will go through CE Desk’s dedicated checking account. This will make it very easy to run out a report: everything related to FaM and CE Desk is gathered in one account. Mortgage interest is reported on a yearly form from the lender. That leaves only one category, “medical,” in my personal accounts to report on…and that’s easy.
Reconciling an account against a bank statement is also pretty easy in Excel. Just translate the instructions on the back of your statement into Excel actions:
First check off all the cleared transactions in your checkbook spreadsheet; changing their font color makes it easy to spot uncleared entries. Then enter your current bank balance, subtract uncleared debits (checks and EFTs) and add uncleared credits (deposits). Click AutoSum (Σ) to total these figures. Next, enter your bank statement’s ending balance, add any deposits made after the ending date, and subtract uncleared debits. Click AutoSum again to tote up those figures. Now compare the two totals: if you haven’t missed entering anything, then the two should be the same. If they’re different, you’ve made a mistake and need to recheck the figures in your checkbook spreadsheet.

So, how will this work with day-to-day bank and credit-card transactions? It’s easy to track credits (deposits) and debits (checks and electronic payments) in an ordinary spreadsheet. However, because I charge all my grocery and other discretionary spending on credit cards, paying them off in full at the end of each month, the single payment to American Express or Visa doesn’t show what, specifically, that payment covered. In Quicken, this failing can be addressed with split transactions. Since I don’t know how to enter a Quicken-style split transaction in Excel (or even if that can be done), I believe one would need a separate spreadsheet to track credit-card charges. In my case, this represents no extra work: I already do that in Quicken, because I make too many charges each month to stuff into a single split transaction.
So, we first set up a spreadsheet for the checking account:
To explain how Excel builds the figures in the “Balance” column, in the “Cleared” column I’ve noted the commands I entered in “Balance.” For those who are even less conversant with Excel than I am, here’s what I did: Place the cursor in the target cell; type the = sign and then click on the cells you want Excel to total; after each cell, enter a + sign. In my first row, I’ve asked Excel to take the next cell under “Credit, “$10,000, and add it to the figure under “Debit,” which is blank, giving an opening balance of $10,000. That little green triangle on the opening balance is Excel complaining that no value appears in the second (“Debit”) cell. This is just whining—you can either ignore it or quiet the program down by entering a 0 in those blank cells.
This establishes the opening balance. To figure the running balance, remember that you have to include deposits as well as checks and electronic payments. So, I’ve gone to the second row, placed my cursor in the second cell under “Balance,” and asked Excel to take the previous figure under “credit” and add it to “debit” and then add these to the previous figure under “balance.” Because the debits are entered with minus signs (i.e., as negative numbers), using the + sign will cause Excel to subtract that figure from the series’ total. That is, you’re getting x + (-y) + (z).
(And yes, Virginia: that’s why we take algebra in high school or college!)
Now, to keep track of what that $800 paid to American Express was actually spent on, we have a second spreadsheet:
In this spreadsheet, I would like to know not only what specifically I’m diddling away money on, but also how much is left out of each month’s $800 credit-card spending budget. So under “credit” I enter the amount budgeted. This spreadsheet doesn’t represent a bank account and so never has to be reconciled. Consequently I can be a bit more casual here. I create the opening balance simply by copying the first make-believe “credit” into the “Balance” column. Now to make Excel do a running balance, all I have to do is ask it to subtract each debit from the preceding balance. I do this by entering an = sign in the first cell below the opening balance, then clicking on the first debit (notice that it also has a minus sign in front of it, making it a negative number), then entering a + sign, then clicking on the number right above, in the “Balance” column. This subtracted $86.50 from $800, showing $713.50 was left in the monthly budget. Now click on that “$713.50” cell, notice the little “knob” in the cell’s lower right-hand corner; grab that with the cursor and pull the cursor down the column. Every cell the cursor has swooped over will perform the same function as new values are entered in “credit” and “debit,” neatly keeping a running balance for you.
Nifty, eh?
Excel will default to show negative numbers in red, in parentheses—accountant-style. It also probably will default to give you plain-vanilla figures with only one decimal place, as it has done here. To adjust these formats to fit your taste, go to Format > cells and explore around…that’s about the only self-explanatory part of this program.
Come April, I’ll want to send a report on tax-related expenditures to my tax lawyer. It is possible to make Excel do reports, but I’ve never figured out how. The online “Help” manual is utterly incomprehensible to the English major’s mind, and the reports chapter in Excel for Dummies is also over my head. However, it’s easy to generate an English-major report by using the “sort” function. Here, I’m pasting entries from the check-register spreadsheet and entries from the credit-card spreadsheet into a single new spreadsheet and running a “sort” on them:
To sort a spreadsheet, highlight the data you want to sort and then go to Data > Sort. Here I’ve asked Excel to sort first by Category, then by Income, then by Expenses. The result appears above.
As I mentioned above, most tax-related transactions will now occur in the S-corporation. However, it develops that COBRA, Medicare, and long-term care premiums are tax-deductible, and of course these will be paid from personal checking. So I’ve created a category, TR, to flag tax-related items. Sorting the data first by categories gathers transactions by category. From there, it’s easy to tote up the expenses or income in each category. To arrive at $388.09 worth of tax-related transactions, I clicked in a cell next to where those transactions are grouped, and entered the = sign + each figure in the TR category.
In this sheet, as you can see, it’s also very easy, to arrive at a whole year’s income and expenses: just put your cursor in the cell at the bottom of “Income” or of “Expenses” and click the AutoSum icon (looks like a Greek letter Σ).
Excel is easier than it looks. Describing these maneuvers, even in plain English, makes them look harder than they are.
Macquisition
So! Yesterday I scored a new 15-inch MacBook from the Apple store, at an educator’s discount slightly lower than the one offered at GDU’s computer store. Not only that, but they threw in a wireless Epson printer, free!
Actually, I upgraded the freebie to a printer/scanner. I’m interested to see how the Epson does: it appears to be much better made than the HP, less flimsy and far more elegant in design. It was only $50 more; I figure I can resell my hulking HP on Craig’s List for that much.
They also threw in a 50% discount on next year’s Mobile Me subscription, a little extravagance that I figure The Copyeditor’s Desk will have to pay for, assuming it earns that much in the future.
In addition, I got a year’s worth of one-on-one coaching. First thing they’ll do for me, they said, is synch up my iMac with the laptop and, if I wish (for a slight extra fee), they will upgrade the iMac to Snow Leopard. The salesman claimed they also would load the $65(!) MS Office for Mac I bought at the GDU bookstore, though I doubt that: normally anything with the letters MS attached to it is as water to oil for the Apple Genius crew.
Snow Leopard is really inexpensive, especially compared to other operating systems. It’s supposed to be the wave of the future, so I think I may spring for the modest cost to do that.
What a beautiful and elegant machine it is! Smooth, rounded, pretty…just like its operating system.
The Mac is such a creature of the Internet! The instant an infant Mac breaks out of the egg, it wants to get online. It’s chirping to be connected to the cable router, but since I don’t know how to accomplish that, it’ll have to wait till M’hijito can come over and set it up. {sigh} Much as I want to play with it, I have no idea which of the half-dozen potential connections that come up is mine. It “sees” all the neighbors’ wireless stuff, but without a little encouragement, it doesn’t see the router. At least, I don’t think it does. If it does, I don’t recognize it.
For $150, I can get an AirPort Extreme, which is said to be superior to the cheapie we bought at Fry’s Electronics. I suppose I can afford it, although we’re pushing the limits of what CE Desk can pay. And anything that’s not sitting in the corporate account is money I’ll have to use for groceries and running the house.
However, it looks like I’m going to spring free of Quicken, whose onerous requirements for upgrades are past due for me. So that will save seventy or eighty bucks.
Uh-oh! La Maya on the phone with an intelligence alert: Estate sale in Richistan! w00t!
Gotta go: we hit the road in 20 minutes.
Later!
Trees
How does the Devil-Pod Tree add work to my life? Let me count the hours…
The late great shamal made a fine mess of the pool. Yesterday I spent several hours shoveling out leaves, pods, pollen, and dirt, another hour running to the pool store and dropping $30 on shock treatment and a new skimmer basket (the old one having cracked under the weight of all the gunk it collected!), more time applying said chemicals. Tomorrow I’ll have to backwash and recharge the filter, now that the dirt, dust, and pollen have lodged themselves in the filter.
Ah, yes, the Devil-Pod Tree, named in honor of the house’s feckless previous owner, Satan.
Satan and his fabled wife Proserpine betook themselves to Moon Valley Nursery, the used-car lot of the arborist bidness, where they succumbed to that worthy organization’s time-honored move-it-off-the-lot package: six trees at a stupidly low per-tree cost. Or so it seems. “Stupid” is the term best suited, however, to the buyer. Five of the six trees were totally unsuited for the places where S & P wanted to plant them. A ten-minute Google search would have revealed this, had our happy homeowners been gifted with the faintest intellectual curiosity.
Moon Valley fibbed baroquely to Satan and Proserpine; either that, or those two lied hilariously to me. Whatever. Doesn’t matter. The result was the same: someone (read “moi”) had to get rid of the junk shrubbery.
A few months before they put their house on the market, Satan and the lovely Proserpine purchased two young sissoo trees. They believed, or said they believed, that these monsters would never grow much larger than the ten feet or so to which they had aspired by the time I came on the scene.
Sissoo trees can reach 60 feet in height. The canopy grows to 40 feet in diameter. It is a thirsty plant, requiring weekly deep-watering. Its roots will lift sidewalks and heave foundations. It propagates by root suckers. Satan and Proserpine, apparently believing the fiction that these were modest little things, planted two of them side-by-side in the front yard.
Good move. Better move: I had these pulled out when I relandscaped the front yard.
Then they had Moon Valley’s barely paid crew plant an exotic pine tree, which they believed to be petite and noninvasive, directly next to the eastside wall. Another good move: this thing rises to a good 40 or 50 feet and gets far too large to fit into the space between the house’s east wall and the public sidewalk. I had that critter removed, too. Replaced it with a Texas ebony. It bites, but it doesn’t heave the foundation.
Then they planted two willow acacias, an unbeautiful import from Australia described by the most recent arborist to visit the property as “not recommended.” This is the plant that has richly earned the name “Devil-Pod Tree.” Satan calculated the direction and velocity of the Sonoran desert’s prevailing monsoon gales and then planted one of the damned things directly upwind of the pool.
The Devil-Pod Tree drops seeds that deposit yellow stains on the pool’s plaster. Its long, strappy leaves clog the pool cleaner. And its UNHOLY yellow fuzzballs fly into the pool, where they demonstrate that they are heavier than water by sinking to the bottom, there to be lapped up by Harvey the Hayward Pool Cleaner, who straightaway delivers them to the pump pot.
Dare to try to collect them in the water-driven hose bonnet, and you shiver them apart into zillions of tiny pieces, which explode into the water like dust in the air only to settle back on the bottom in multizillions of tiny particles. Either way, when these things are sucked into the skimmer basket and the pump strainer, they clog the system with a vengeance. Let them get through those two barriers, and they fill up the filter medium, presenting the homeowner with the immediate pleasure of a backwash job.
It is, in short, a nasty tree.
Satan and Proserpine planted two of them, one next to the pool and the other over on the west side, where it could threaten to crash down on the house whenever a stiff breeze comes out of the setting sun. These trees are as brittle as eucalyptus, and every bit as capable of shedding large, roof-shattering chunks.
The tree that has grown by the pool is actually not unaesthetic, as willow acacias go. It’s relatively shapely and it casts some nice shade on the patio. None on the house, alas, but some on the concrete. That’s not bad, because a slab of concrete accentuates the effect of a 115-degree day by radiating heat into the adjacent foundation and onto the wall of your house, jacking up your air-conditioning bills commensurately.
Nevertheless. Every time I have to spend upwards of an hour cleaning its mess out of the pool, I think it needs to go.
Then there are the damnable palm trees.
What on earth possesses people to plant palm trees???? What is the appeal to these hideous, filthy, roach-ridden, termite-attracting sticks? They are the filthiest goddamn things! And they require annual trimming, to the tune of $50 to $100 apiece, depending on whether you can find an undocumented immigrant to do the job or whether you’re forced to hire a recently released American ex-convict.
These little gems drop rock-like seeds into the pool, there to break your pool cleaner. This happens after they have released several million sharp-edged nasty little flower things to clog the filter. The tree trimming guys hack this stuff off in the late spring, along with enough of the canopy to totally eradicate what little shade the ghastly things might have cast over your pool and yard. Soon enough, they shoot up some more flowering rods, which drop some more razor-edged blossoms and rock-like seeds into the pool. In the course of trimming off fronds, the tree guys leave behind large, shield-shaped attachments, which sit on the trunk and dry up. Comes the next stiff breeze, these huge, dirty, thorned nuisances blow off and alight in your pool and all over the street. You as the homeowner get to pick up all this filthy debris.
Cockroaches adore palm trees. If you have a palm tree or two, you will have roaches. That’s why you’ll observe handsome and active Gila woodpeckers working the trunks and canopies: they’re gorging themselves on fat little snacks.
Desert termites like palm trees, too. Late in the summer these charming creatures swarm, much like their cousins the ants. They build mud nests on the sides of these palm trees, temporary homes where they reside while deciding which human shack to settle into.
The various previous owners of the House from Hell have planted not one, not two, not three, but FIVE palm trees around that pool.
So. What we have here are six exceptionally messy trees discharging trash into the already plenty workful pool.
My desire, if not my plan (only because I can’t afford my desire), is to uproot all six of them. Replace the hated acacia with an emerald paloverde, itself a moderately messy creature but as nothing compared with the incumbent. The two palm trees might be replaced by a Swan Hill olive, if there’s a way to determine how aggressive its roots are around an underground pool.
All trees, of course, drop one thing or another, and usually several things. But palm trees as poolside foliage are a mystification. And the willow acacia: nonstop horror show!
Removing them? $$$$$$$
Weather!
Quite a little freshet blew through last night. Apparently it started around 11:30—that’s when my power went out—and carried on into the wee hours. Cassie woke me at one in the morning, barking at the distant thunder and fretting to go out. The wind was blowing so hard it made a weird, symphonic noise: like an orchestra of kazoos.
Almost 300,000 utility customers lost power. Mine came back on around 8:30 this morning. By then, the refrigerator’s interior appeared to be at about room temperature: around 62 degrees. I haven’t dared to open the freezer, but I expect it will be OK, even though, being a cheapie, it’s not well insulated.
This minor episode brought one issue sharply to my attention: I am not prepared for a serious emergency lasting any length of time.
I couldn’t even make a cup of coffee this morning: without power, I can’t grind coffee beans. (OK, OK: I do have a molcajete and yes, yes, I could have ground the darn things by hand. I’d have to be driven to greater depths of desperation to do that, thank you.)
Without a propane grill—I dumped mine in favor of a much nicer charcoal grill—I would be in trouble if the gas went out along with the electric power.
My gas stove will operate during a power outage, but it’s not happy, and the manufacturer inveighs against it. Modern gas ranges have electric igniters, so when the power’s out you have to light the gas with a match or butane lighter. Problem is, the burners want to flicker out; in the absence of a pilot light (which is what used to light gas burners and keep them lit), you risk asphyxiating yourself. Or blowing up the kitchen. You have to stand there next to the stove all the time the burner is going and keep a close eye on it.
I do have water stored, but I forget to empty it over the plants once a month, wash out the carboys, and refill them. Must get my act together there.
And I think it would be a good idea to pick up a camp stove and a couple bottles of propane. Actually, I think one of those stoves will run off a barbecue-sized propane canister, two of which I happen to own. Probably all I need is the stove and a canister refill.
The other thing I don’t have is a cooler. I need to pick up one of those, so I can carry dry ice to stock the freezer during an extended outage. They’re cheap and can be had readily at yard sales.
There’s food enough in the house to last a month or so. The issue is cooking it. And, in the case of frozen and refrigerated items, storing it.
Really, there’s no excuse not to be prepared. Here’s what I see as the bare minimum to have around the house:
• Blankets
• Toilet paper
• First-aid kit
• Analgesics, antihistamine tablets, and any prescriptions you need
• Five to ten gallons of clean water
• Propane
• Propane stove or grill with side burner
• Candles
• Camping lantern
• Flashlights and batteries
• Battery-operated radio
• Cell phone, BlackBerry, or land-line phone that is not wireless
• Supply of food, enough to last from a week to a month
• Possibly a five-gallon can of gasoline
Got any other thoughts? What else might one have around the house, just in case?
Update:
In just a couple of days, a slew of ideas have come in, over the transom and through the “Comments” on this post. Here’s a summary:
• A hand-cranked radio may be more reliable than a battery-operated one. At the very least, have more than one radio that will operate on something other than AC. And keep a good supply of fresh batteries.
• Cash stash. The Katrina disaster proved that cash speaks louder than bank cards or checks. When power goes down and stays down, computerized cash registers quit working. Unable to process bank transactions, many merchants will accept cash when nothing else works.
• Barterable goods may come in handy in a crisis that lasts for a lengthy time. Cigarettes, alcohol, and (yes, I’m going to say it!) grass can be traded for food, clothing, bandages, medications, and other necessaries. Also useful: sanitary napkins and tampons, candy, jewelry.
• Water purifer and sanitizer. Check camping stores for devices and chemicals designed to disinfect suspect water. Among these are the SteriPEN, iodine tablets or liquid, and chlorine tablets. Remember that water filters do not kill pathogens.
• More than a few gallons of clean water may be needed. Adults may need as much as three gallons of drinking water a day.
• Remember that a water heater holds 20 to 60 gallons of potable water. Swimming pool and decorative fountain or pond water, while not drinkable without purification, can be used for washing and bathing. Dishes can be washed in ocean, river, or lake water, with plenty of detergent. Rinse in boiling water.
• Watch yard sales to collect a stash of candles. Tea lights as well as tapers and pillar candles are good to have on hand. I personally find that tapers put out more light than other types of candles.
• Propane camp lanterns or oil lamps are also good to have on hand. Use devices that are sources of combustion outdoors.
• Build a stash of matches as well as butane lighters. Keep your matches dry inside Ziploc bags.
• All these supplies should be kept in a dry, safe place, out of childrens’ reach.
• Some readers have questioned the safety of using a propane stove indoors. City codes require an effective venting system over a gas stove for a reason! That reason is called “carbon monoxide,” an odorless, toxic gas that is a byproduct of burning. If you’re forced to use a propane stove inside because of weather conditions, place it near or on your stovetop and turn on the vent. If you have no power, use it near an open window or place it in the cold firebox of your fireplace with the flue open, and don’t use it for any length of time. It is best to use these devices outdoors.


