Yesterday it rained all day, heavily at times. Today is a leftover day with light grey clouds but no rain or wind. I have no errands to do though I could do a dump run, but I’m thinking of saving that until Sunday. It will give me something to look forward to say I tongue in cheek.

Both dogs are upstairs asleep on my bed. They are a strange pair. Henry growls at Nala if she scares him or walks by him when he is in a bad mood. I pat him to divert his attention. It usually works. Last night, just before I turned off the light, Henry growled at Nala because she was lying on his spot in the bed. I told him to stop. He did then started cleaning her face side to side, probably out of guilt. After she’d had enough, she got up and moved right beside my head, her usual spot, and settled on the other pillow curved in ball. I turned off the light.

When I was a kid, we learned to hide under our desks and cover our heads or curl up in the hall to save us from a nuclear bomb. Hiding under my desk was a little scary. I knew what a bomb was, but the nuclear part was fuzzy, but I did what I was told without a real understanding of the why. When I was older, the drills stopped. By then I understood why we had hidden under our desks, but an atomic bomb was still remote from my day to day. It was for somewhere else, not here.

I remember President Kennedy announcing on TV the blockade of Cuba, a quarantine to prevent the Soviets from bringing in more military supplies, more missile parts. The US would seize weapons off any Soviet ship attempting delivery to Cuba and would retaliate on the USSR should any missile be fired from Cuba. The stand-off lasted thirteen days. We all waited. We were all afraid. On TV the news was constantly dire. We kept hearing that Cuba is only ninety miles from the US. I remember too there were Soviet ships boarded and searched, but when nothing was found, they went on their way while other ships turned back before boarding. That was the first time I was glued to the TV. I remember reports about Soviet ships on their way to Cuba. I remember Walter Cronkite, I think, announcing the ships were turning back. We could all breathe again until the next crisis and the next and the next. There is always a next.

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