I have been neglectful due to poor timesharing. Yesterday was the twentieth
anniversary of one of the worst space-exploration disasters we (meaning the planet) have had; the cosmonauts, certainly, have suffered their own set of disasters -- Soyuz 1, Soyuz 11
-- but the American space programme's disasters have been tightly clustered into this time of year.
It's hard to believe it's been two whole decades since the January 29th on which Challenger exploded due to... well, a bunch of stupid things. I mean, in a way, it's not unlike what happened to the Titanic
, isn't it? Assumptions, presumptions, waves of dismissal, 'our tech can't fail, it's our tech' sort of attitudes...? Then Columbia, three years ago (three years?!) on February 1; and next year it will be forty
years since the January 27th on which Apollo 1's pure-O2
atmosphere caught fire.
And what are their sacrifices accomplishing? Right now, all we're getting is empty promises and robbed budgets
. But there's hope out there yet
; hope, and anticipation and excitement
. We can -- I hope -- outlast this; and we can hope the taikonauts
will be able to learn from their predecessors' misfortunes.
Heard on the news from Lake Wobegone
: 'Cindy seemed to consider romance as a sort of social work.' [/possible imperfect quote]
News from puppyville: We all went to the vet's yesterday. Gemma had a distressing cough that sounded unsettlingly like she was coughing up a hairball (but no hairballs produced... which, from what I've heard of hairballs, is a GOOD thing); D'Argo had a lump show up in his neck as if an evil fae had flittered by and hit him with a swelling charm. It was well under the skin, fairly mobile, and didn't seem to be tender to the touch -- but where the blazes did this thing come from? It even alarmed the vet, as D had been in just two weeks before (and would have been in last Saturday except for the fact that Certain People were off at a wedding in Detroit instead of being where my boxer needed them). Meissa was just there because there was the chance the girls would be getting the next round of puppy shots.
As it turns out, Gemma now weighs 7 lbs, 11 oz; Meissa has pulled ahead of her sister at 8 lbs, 8 oz; and D'Argo is large. No reason was found for the cough (which had already subsided substantially from Friday), and D'Argo's strange lump had some blood in it. Once that was aspirated with a needle, there was a definite change in size, but no firm diagnosis. So he's back on antibiotics and needs to be seen next week. No puppy shots either - they're not quite
three months old yet, so Marmesh
decided to wait until next week.
They were only fiveish pounds the first time he weighed them!
So now Meissa's coughing, and my mother's dosing them with fragments of baby aspirin and some olive oil concoction that actually seems to be doing more good than what the vet did (which was nothing, so that's an easy one). Off to feed puppies now....
P.S. THE MICE HAVE BEEN EATING MY GHIRARDELLI! GRRAARRRGHGHH!!