Ginny and I went for a half-hour drive up to Grants Pass last week. People here in Oregon don’t look at distances the same way as folks in the Boundary do; and I’m not just talking about the metric vs. imperial thing either.
The city folks here complain if they have to drive 15 or 20 minutes to get to the box-store or mall. Four words I have to these city slickers: “Suck it up buttercup!” These folks have it pretty darn good. Living in the Kettle Valley means you have to drive at least 45 minutes to get anywhere bigger, and even then the bigger is still pretty small.
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I started a Netflix binge on an action drama from Mexico. The English subtitles make up for both my not speaking Spanish as well as being deaf. One word of advice before starting a binge like this – look at how many episodes there are. I was into the series some eight hours before I found out I only have 65 more to go.
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This month’s collapse of a tunnel storing radioactive waste at the Hanford Nuclear Reservation has temporarily focused the attention of editors and publishers on what is the most contaminated radioactive site in the United States.
That hole where the tunnels’ ceiling used to be has been filled with 50 truckloads of dirt and covered with a plastic tarp. Meanwhile the budget that President Trump has proposed would actually cut the Hanford budget by $120 million.
The point of this little rant is to urge my friends up in the Boundary to do what you can to make sure your elected representatives are aware of the dangers posed by Hanford.
Granted, disposal of nuclear waste is pretty much beyond the normal scope of work for your local or regional government – but we all need to become informed, keep vigilant, and strongly urge others further up the food chain to make Hanford clean-up funding a priority so that efforts to make it as safe as possible continue.
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Some weeks’ it’s hard to sit down and write this column; the bombing in Manchester the other day has made writing pretty difficult. It was like a hard punch right to the gut that knocks the breath right out of you and at the same time makes it seem impossible to take another in.
It is difficult to find a place in my brain where I should store this news.
I could file it under ‘Manchester Bombing.” This folder already has many files – including an account of an IRA truck bomb that went off some 21 years ago. It was the largest explosion in Great Britain since World War 2. There were no fatalities though – police were alerted by the IRA who, using a prearranged code, gave warning in time for 75,000 people to be evacuated. While 200 people were injured, there were no fatalities.
I could categorize it a ‘Terrorist Bombing’ – a file folder, unfortunately, already over-full with tragic stories of places where even greater numbers have been killed and wounded than the Ariana attack. Unlike the IRA, the terrorists our world is facing today don’t phone ahead with a warning to evacuate (but then the bombs, drones and cruise missiles that destroy lives and homes bring terror to other parts of the world don’t give warning either).
Peace doesn’t appear likely to break out in the next day or two.
Like I said — some weeks’ it’s hard to sit down and write this column, but finishing one always feels great.
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Take care of someone who loves you ….