🔗 What you need to have in your house if there are no deliveries for a week—the quantities per person per day, the order in which to pack them, water, heat, and light, all on 247 pages in my complete German Survival Code: https://go.hotmart.com/F106025463I
On the table in front of me are eleven items. Together they cost less than twenty-five euros, bought at TEDi on a street you probably drove past this morning. No gas heater for three hundred euros, no generator. Eleven things that all fit into a paper bag.
And before you read on: the space heater most people keep in their basement for such an eventuality becomes a paperweight during a power outage. It needs exactly what's missing.
I'm Werner Falk, a retired master locksmith, forty-six years in the trade, forty of them working on doors and safes. I'm not a heating engineer, and I don't claim to be. What I can do is look into what something really costs, what it delivers, and where it falls short—I've been doing exactly that with doors for forty years.
I've even kept track of the temperature in my own house with a thermometer: when it's freezing outside and the heating is off, the room loses about one degree per hour. Twenty-one degrees at nine o'clock in the evening. At four o'clock in the morning, your child is standing in the doorway, and the thermometer reads fourteen.
The question isn't whether you have heating. The question is whether you can keep a single room above fifteen degrees for three days straight without using a single kilowatt-hour.
Eleven: the fleece blanket, and why three per bed—the one on the bottom counts the most. Ten: hat, gloves, thermal socks, scarf, and the rule that costs nothing. Nine: the sheer shower curtain, two per window, and what you're really building with them. Eight: duct tape and painter's tape, and why you need two different kinds. Seven: tea lights and a tin bowl—with the one-meter distance that's non-negotiable. Six: the LED flashlight and the knocker, and where they belong. Five: hand and toe warmers, for the hands no blanket can reach. Four: the insulated mug with a lid, and the difference between ten minutes and two hours. Three: the empty tin can—outside, and only outside. Two: the extension cord, and what it's explicitly NOT for. One: the emergency blanket you already own without even knowing it.
Two things I'm going to reveal. The number after which you lose half your body heat through your head is too high—I'm telling you this even though it would work in my favor. What's true is the principle: blood flows most densely under the skin in the head, hands, and feet. And a proper space heater needs a heavy-duty cable from the hardware store, not the cheap one for two euros—I say this even though it contradicts this entire list.
The most important point in the video is number three and has nothing to do with saving money: carbon monoxide from an indoor fire can kill a family in fifteen minutes. It's colorless, it smells of nothing, and by the time you notice it, it's too late. No grill in the house, no camping stove in the house, no generator in the garage—not even with the door open.
And number one is the one I'll keep you waiting for throughout the entire video: the emergency blanket. It's in your car, in the first-aid kit, which is required to be there by law. You've never even touched it. And almost everyone uses it incorrectly—not around their shoulders, but hung up, silver side facing inwards, from floor to ceiling, over the door, and against the coldest wall.
What these eleven items can't do, I'll also mention: they won't make your house warm. They'll make a room a space where a family can stay for three days. They can't boil water, and they won't cook a meal. That's a different story.
My real advice is at the end, and it costs nothing: don't buy everything at once, but do one trip this weekend, take one bag, and get all eleven items. Then choose the warm room and stick the foil on right away, so it's done and you're not improvising in the dark at nine o'clock at night.
Write one word in the comments: emergency blanket, shower curtain, or hand warmer. The one of the three that you realized you're missing at home. Just the word—no address, no time, and no work hours. That's nobody's business but yours.
Take care of your house for me.
Werner Falk
#EmergencyPreparedness #PowerOutage #Blackout #Winter #Preparedness #SelfSufficiency #Germany
🔗 What you need to have in your house if there are no deliveries for a week—the quantities per person per day, the order in which to pack them, water, heat, and light, all on 247 pages in my complete German Survival Code: https://go.hotmart.com/F106025463I
On the table in front of me are eleven items. Together they cost less than twenty-five euros, bought at TEDi on a street you probably drove past this morning. No gas heater for three hundred euros, no generator. Eleven things that all fit into a paper bag.
And before you read on: the space heater most people keep in their basement for such an eventuality becomes a paperweight during a power outage. It needs exactly what's missing.
I'm Werner Falk, a retired master locksmith, forty-six years in the trade, forty of them working on doors and safes. I'm not a heating engineer, and I don't claim to be. What I can do is look into what something really costs, what it delivers, and where it falls short—I've been doing exactly that with doors for forty years.
I've even kept track of the temperature in my own house with a thermometer: when it's freezing outside and the heating is off, the room loses about one degree per hour. Twenty-one degrees at nine o'clock in the evening. At four o'clock in the morning, your child is standing in the doorway, and the thermometer reads fourteen.
The question isn't whether you have heating. The question is whether you can keep a single room above fifteen degrees for three days straight without using a single kilowatt-hour.
Eleven: the fleece blanket, and why three per bed—the one on the bottom counts the most. Ten: hat, gloves, thermal socks, scarf, and the rule that costs nothing. Nine: the sheer shower curtain, two per window, and what you're really building with them. Eight: duct tape and painter's tape, and why you need two different kinds. Seven: tea lights and a tin bowl—with the one-meter distance that's non-negotiable. Six: the LED flashlight and the knocker, and where they belong. Five: hand and toe warmers, for the hands no blanket can reach. Four: the insulated mug with a lid, and the difference between ten minutes and two hours. Three: the empty tin can—outside, and only outside. Two: the extension cord, and what it's explicitly NOT for. One: the emergency blanket you already own without even knowing it.
Two things I'm going to reveal. The number after which you lose half your body heat through your head is too high—I'm telling you this even though it would work in my favor. What's true is the principle: blood flows most densely under the skin in the head, hands, and feet. And a proper space heater needs a heavy-duty cable from the hardware store, not the cheap one for two euros—I say this even though it contradicts this entire list.
The most important point in the video is number three and has nothing to do with saving money: carbon monoxide from an indoor fire can kill a family in fifteen minutes. It's colorless, it smells of nothing, and by the time you notice it, it's too late. No grill in the house, no camping stove in the house, no generator in the garage—not even with the door open.
And number one is the one I'll keep you waiting for throughout the entire video: the emergency blanket. It's in your car, in the first-aid kit, which is required to be there by law. You've never even touched it. And almost everyone uses it incorrectly—not around their shoulders, but hung up, silver side facing inwards, from floor to ceiling, over the door, and against the coldest wall.
What these eleven items can't do, I'll also mention: they won't make your house warm. They'll make a room a space where a family can stay for three days. They can't boil water, and they won't cook a meal. That's a different story.
My real advice is at the end, and it costs nothing: don't buy everything at once, but do one trip this weekend, take one bag, and get all eleven items. Then choose the warm room and stick the foil on right away, so it's done and you're not improvising in the dark at nine o'clock at night.
Write one word in the comments: emergency blanket, shower curtain, or hand warmer. The one of the three that you realized you're missing at home. Just the word—no address, no time, and no work hours. That's nobody's business but yours.
Take care of your house for me.
Werner Falk
#EmergencyPreparedness #PowerOutage #Blackout #Winter #Preparedness #SelfSufficiency #Germany
Vier Fragen kommen bei diesem Thema jedes Mal, und ich beantworte sie lieber gleich.
Erstens: „Reicht ein Heizlüfter nicht, wenn der Nachbar ein Aggregat hat?" Für ein Kinderzimmer, kurz, mit dem richtigen Kabel: ja. Aber dann ist die Heizung nicht Ihr Problem, sondern das Kabel. Ein Heizlüfter zieht dauerhaft mehrere Ampere, und das dünne Kabel aus der Schublade ist dafür nicht gebaut — es wird jedes Mal zu heiß, nicht manchmal. Nie unter einen Teppich, nie überlasten, und ein Kabel auf der Rolle immer ganz abrollen, weil die Wärme sonst in den Wicklungen steht. Für echte Heizlast gehen Sie in den Baumarkt und geben die fünfzehn Euro für dicken Querschnitt aus. Das ist keine Sache für einen Euroladen, und ich sage es, obwohl es gegen meine eigene Liste spricht.
Zweitens: „Wie warm wird es damit wirklich?" Es wird nicht warm. Es bleibt bewohnbar. Der Unterschied, den ich gemessen habe, ist der zwischen einem Raum, der am zweiten Morgen bei zehn Grad steht, und einem, der die fünfzehn hält — und das entscheidet, ob eine Familie schläft oder die Nacht durchsitzt. Wer Ihnen für fünfundzwanzig Euro ein warmes Haus verspricht, verkauft Ihnen etwas.
Drittens: „Kann ich nicht einfach Teelichter unter einen Blumentopf stellen?" Nein, und das ist die Frage, bei der ich am deutlichsten werde. Jede Verbrennung im Innenraum macht Kohlenmonoxid. Es ist farblos, riecht nach nichts, und wer es merkt, merkt es zu spät — jeden Winter sterben in diesem Land Menschen an einem Holzkohlegrill, den jemand in die Wohnung geholt hat, weil es kalt war. Kerzen sind Licht und ein Meter Abstand, nicht Heizung. Die Blechdose aus Nummer drei lebt draußen, auf Stein, und nur zum Wasserheißmachen.
Viertens: „Ich habe schon zwei Decken, reicht das?" Rechnen Sie einmal nach, wie viele Decken in Ihrer Wohnung wirklich liegen. Die meisten kommen auf drei oder vier für eine ganze Familie — und eine normale Bettdecke ist für ein Schlafzimmer mit zwanzig Grad gebaut, nicht für vierzehn. Drei pro Bett, und die unterste liegt UNTER dem Schlafenden, weil die Matratze Ihnen die Wärme aus dem Rücken zieht. Das ist die Lage, die fast alle vergessen.
Und wenn Sie aus dem ganzen Video nur eine Sache mitnehmen, dann bitte die mit der Rettungsdecke: nicht um die Schultern wickeln — das Bild, von dem das Internet voll ist, bringt fast nichts. Aufhängen, Silberseite nach innen, vom Boden bis zur Decke über die Tür und an die kälteste Wand. Erst dann arbeitet jede andere Sache auf dieser Liste in einem Raum, der Ihre Wärme nicht mehr hinauslässt.