Recent posts here have been almost entirely domestic. What can a Tucson-based blogger say about events that’ll make the slightest difference? Still, one tries to keep a hand in.
On the Air India crash: the engines on those Boeing 787s produce more than enough thrust to make up for forgetting to set flaps and slats for takeoff — you’d have a longer ground roll and wouldn’t climb out as rapidly, but you could easily power through it. I think there was a dual-engine rollback of some kind — possibly pilot-induced, possibly not — something the crew couldn’t resolve in time to avoid impact. Indian authorities have had the recorders, the black boxes, for several days now and the lack of information coming out is typical of international investigations — national pride at stake, etc. I assume our NTSB representatives on site are under orders to play along unless the deception endangers safety and lives. When they say aircraft accident investigations are dedicated to discovering the truth about what happened, that is correct so long as you understand “truth” is what a room full of people with conflicting interests can agreed to. I say this as someone with a bit of expertise in the field.
Not that yours truly thinks Mr. Trump is guilty of this (fact check: I think exactly that), but if we had a leader who is addicted to Fox News, knows his base is addicted to Fox News, and who tries to enact into law every idiot gripe or idle thought voiced by Fox News commentators because it plays to his base, would the actions of our executive branch be any different than they actually are?
Would I, were I still on active duty in the Air Force, follow orders and fly a strike mission against targets in Iran? Yes. With mixed feelings, certainly, but yes — I would have. Reporting right now is entirely agenda-driven, either pro- or anti-Trump. I’m certain those bunker busters did a lot of damage. Is it possible the Iranians were able to move some equipment and enriched uranium beforehand? Of course it is; we gave them plenty of warning. Wait & see, that’s me.
Of the negatives that come with age, losing height, to me, is the most unsettling. They all suck, but that one really sucks.
Oh, you want a DOGREP?
The animal hospital called day before yesterday — they had a cancellation and could we bring the Gang of Three® in for their annual wellness checks and shots two weeks early? You bet! The young girls, Fritzi and Lulu, are fine, although Lulu needs dental work and possibly some extractions. The old boy, Mr. B, is down to ten pounds and shaky on his legs (which of course we knew, and gosh knows I’ve blogged about it plenty); their vet recommended a medication to make his arthritic joints less painful. She gave us a 14-day supply for free and if we see improvement she’ll write us a prescription. Too early to tell — please keep your fingers crossed for him.
Donna and her friend Grace left yesterday to spend a couple of days in Phoenix with their mutual friend Millie. The plan is to sew without the distractions and emergencies that constantly pop up at home. The latest for us was a leaky valve in a toilet; happily repaired the eve of Donna’s trip and with luck nothing else will break down until Saturday, when she’s home again.
We normally share our bed with the GoT®, but last night, with Donna away, I tried making Mr. B sleep in his doggie bed on the floor. He curled up in it and closed his eyes, so I curled up with Lulu and Fritzi and closed mine. I heard his nails clacking on the floor around midnight, but decided to ignore it and went back to sleep. I was awakened at one in the morning by a piteous howl from the other end of the house. I realized Lulu and Fritzi were no longer in bed with me, and knowing how they’ll run to Mr. B’s side when his legs give out and he needs help getting back on his feet, I got up to rescue him. Lulu and Fritzi met me at the bedroom door and ran ahead to show me where Mr. B was, helpless on his belly between two sewing machine cases in Donna’s sewing room. I helped him up, walked him out back to pee, and put him on our bed afterward, where he slept like a log until morning.
That’s it for my doggie bed experiment. There’ll be four of us in bed tonight, me and the GoT®; Saturday night Donna will be back with us, making it five, as God intended.