Plugged or Unplugged?

Ten minutes into every trip, my mother would get that pained expression on her face. With eyebrows furrowed, she would begin reciting some kind of deliberate list only faintly audible to me in the backseat. Her eyes would then fixate on something, mouth slightly rumpled, a look of distress slow to erupt, but ultimately taking hold. All conversation stopped.

“I think I left the coffeepot on,” she would inevitably say.

Of course, the actual appliance in question was always in flux. The next trip it would be the curling iron or the stove or some other now-sinister apparatus that forced a hectic departure off the busy highway. The first twenty or thirty times, I was sure that we would return home to a pile of smoldering rubble, greeted by firemen or shocked neighbors shaking their collective heads over the sight of our house ablaze. But, it never happened. For all her paranoia, my mother never did leave anything on and no insurance claims were ever necessary after we got home from grandma’s. Traveling just made my mother a little nuts.

And now, the curse is passed to the son. I feel the same sense of dread when I’m away from home, although it usually strikes me in the throat when the destination is reached. I sit around the pool wondering whether the dining room light I installed has caught fire, if rain has turned the basement into a scene out of the Poseidon Adventure, or if thieves have rifled through my comic book collection. Maybe this is why I’m not a coffee drinker (one less appliance to explode!) and the reason behind my Chicken Little routine as I scurry around the house double-checking everything before every trip? Who knew protecting the home front was such a difficult job?

Whether you’re neurotic like me or not, a little thought to safeguarding the homestead is a good idea. Here are some things to consider—for the both of us.

Lockdown
Lock all doors and windows, preferably without leaving the car keys inside, which I’ve been known to do. Don’t forget about securing the shed, garage or any vehicles left behind. Remove the key from underneath the mat and any other obvious places. Would-be thieves learned that trick the very first day at Criminal University.

The Lived-in Look
While I’m all for pulling shades and blinds, the real point of the exercise is to make the house look lived in while you’re away. Remember, intruders can get in if they really want to. The key is deterrence, best performed by making them wonder if someone is home—or soon will be. A darkened house sends the wrong message, which is why putting lights on timers and leaving a few shades up helps the cause. Leave a car parked on the driveway instead of in the garage—that fools ‘em every time. Also, a pile of newspapers and an overstuffed mailbox are dead giveaways. Bake the neighbors your world-famous lemon bars and ask if they’d collect these things for you. Discontinue newspaper service if you’re going to be gone for more than a week. Don’t change the answering machine to, “Sorry you missed us, the entire family and Rottweiler is off to Florida for a month.”

Turn it Off
The old adage is still true—disconnected appliances don’t catch fire. Turn them off and pull the plug. Are you listening, Mom? Go room by room, looking for potential trouble. The fish would appreciate it if you didn’t pull the plug on the aquarium, but that toaster oven is always trouble. Turn the heat down, not off, when traveling during cold weather. The damage from frozen pipes requires writing a very large check. After you’ve made the rounds, ask you spouse to do the same. Four eyes are better than two.

Neighborhood Watch
Again, your lemon bars go a long way here. Getting trusted neighbors to keep tabs on your abode is one of the great mind-easers you can get when you’re sunning on the Gulf Coast wondering what’s going on with your house 2,000 miles away. Unless they’re a family of kleptomaniacs, neighbors act as the best sentry you could ask for. (That is, unless you’ve built your own squad of robots to stand guard.) A call to the police station never hurts, stating that you’ll be away and if they could be so nice as to drive by the place once in a while.

Stay Connected
Assuming something grim does occur, I assume you’ll want to know. Leave your cell phone information or number where you’ll be just in case. And then hope like crazy no one ever needs it. If you’re constantly on the go (and cell phone-less), work out a system so you’re always in the loop, whether it be via e-mail, pager, an itinerary, or just calling in to say howdy.

Brent Peterson is a writer on RVing and camping and the author of a newly revised and updated edition of The Complete Idiots’ Guide to RVing.