Hunger Games | Wendy Welch: Books, Yarn, Cats, Opioids

This morning Jack and I went to the Minuteman Missile Site, where I distinguished myself by bursting into tears. Here’s a photo tour.

entering the site

there’s a video from the missileers (the people who staffed the silos and would have turned the keys) talking about what it was like to be there. Here’s a poem one wrote and posted in his locker.

The interesting thing about this chair is, no one old enough to understand it would sit in it. Little kids were hopping in and out, but adults were reading the exhibit, leaning against the back of it, and swallowing hard.

the unofficial motto of the missileers

the museum moved from there to the naivete of the early atomic tests and what people thought an atomic blast did and didn’t do, and the origins of the Cold War….

… which had a lot to do with the division of Berlin, of course…

…and which wasn’t all bad from everybody’s point of view. Full marks to the museum for bringing in some international perspective.

I didn’t know about this guy, who is truly an unsung hero.

but the exhibit that got to me the most, before the visitor’s book that invited comments, was the museum’s interpretation of the Kruschev speech “We will bury you.” The descriptive panel said Americans interpreted Kruschev as meaning they would push the button, when what he had meant was Communism would overtake Capitalism. And how useful that was for funding the Cold War’s stockpiling and everything that came with it. It made me think how that isn’t so different from now, when fear drives so much of how we view ourselves and the world, except instead of Communist it’s Muslim. Or any other villain du jour. History recycles. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to be upcycling, just spiraling into repeating itself. When did we become so easy to manipulate?

And then I got to the end and read this in the book where visitors were invited to leave comments, and burst into tears. Jack had to hold my hand and take me out of the museum.

Tomorrow I will post pictures of the multiple adorable creatures we saw.

Long story short, Jack is in Scotland, which means I’m throwing away things he won’t miss when he returns, and intaking kittens at an exponential rate.

It’s a marriage thing.

Happily, this Wednesday six of our adult cats are going to an urban no-kill shelter that works with rural rescuers. Even more happily, those not already spayed or neutered don’t have to be, because they have a vet who volunteers these services. Which is a big help on our pocketbook here as my crochet time dwindles for fundraising.

Not, I hasten to point out, that our vet Saint Beth at Powell Valley Animal Hospital is any slouch in the volunteer and low-cost department. She has done stuff for us that defies job description. Just follow Miss Pogo on Facebook to see some of the care Saint Beth provides.

Or feast your eyes on these photos, snapped Friday when Beth arrived with reinforcements – Kendra and Meghan from the Pretty Nurses Brigade – to give the unspayed girls we have in our garage their rabies shots. (We have nicknamed the garage the Virgin Vault, as Fiona and Salome are sojourning there until their Wednesday departure.)

Jack ASSURED me before he left for Scotland that he had “cleaned out” the garage so it could provide overflow for kittens during the summer tsunami.

When a man says he’s cleaned something out, he seems to mean that he’s removed everything from it that is of no use to him. Nothing about stacking, ordering, putting lids back on, etc.

Fair enough. It’s a marriage thing.

So Beth and her team entered a maze of chairs waiting to be caned, empty boxes waiting for who knows what, paint waiting to have its lids put back on, litter boxes waiting for target practice, and two girl cats hiding somewhere in the midst of it all.

Fortunately, Kelley’s son Asher was on hand. Being about 4’3″ and 65 pounds, plus a natural cat whisperer, he quickly found the cats hiding in their respective corners, explained that nothing bad was going to happen, and soon had them in arms. The ladies took their shots like champs, and I grabbed Beth’s phone and took a few shots, too. Heh heh heh.