Three Beautiful Things 02-10-2021: Luna and Copper at the Vet, Dynamiting the Levee, Popcorn and the Pimpernel

 1. Copper howled some once in his carrier. Luna hid under the bed, the love seat, and chairs before I succeeded in getting a hold of her and putting her in her carrier. 

But, we made it to the vet on time and both cats suffered through the indignities of getting weighed, being vaccinated, having blood drawn, and being examined on Dr. Cook's table. They endured it really well. 

All in all, they are in good health. Both need dental care, as I expected, but their vitals are strong, their blood counts look good, and there are no signs of any major problems.

Since they are both eating well, drinking plenty of water, resting comfortably though the days and nights, and not showing signs of distress, I had anticipated that this visit to the vet would go just about the way it did.

2. Back to the Great Mississippi Flood of 1927.

I knew blowing up the levee was coming in Rising Tide. I knew that the very wealthy moneyed interests in New Orleans would get their way and persuade state and federal officials to dynamite repeatedly the Caernarvon Levee holding water back from two parishes: St. Bernard and Plaquemines, two poorer and more sparsely populated parishes downriver from New Orleans. Ahead of the blowing up of the levee, about 10,000 people in the two parishes evacuated their homes and farms ahead of having them destroyed by the waters. Leading up to the creating of this crevasse, two experts, meteorologist Isaac Cline and engineer James Kempton argued that the collapse of levees upstream from New Orleans would displace the Mississippi's mighty flood waters and that New Orleans would not flood.

But, panic over a potential flooding had taken hold in New Orleans. The panic was hurting business. To alleviate the panic and to restore confidence that New Orleans was a viable business and moneymaking center, a small circle of wealthy, unelected citizens decided that the levee had to be blown up and eventually persuaded the governor and others in the government to agree. 

The waters upriver were displaced when levees upriver collapsed. That water never came downstream to New Orleans. The city was never in danger. 

Here are the last two sentences of Part Four of Rising Tide: "As Kemper and Cline had predicted, the destruction of St. Bernard and Plaquemines were unnecessary. One day's wait would have shown it to be so."

What became of those 10,000 refugees, those displaced farmers, trappers, bootleggers, fishing families, small business owners, and others in the parishes of St. Bernard and Plaquemines?

I don't know yet.

So, I'll read on. 

I've got about 160 pages left. 

3.  I was so consumed today with reading Rising Tide and thinking about future care for Luna and Copper that I forgot to actually fix myself a meal late this afternoon. Suddenly, I thought a bowl of popcorn topped with Parmesan cheese would taste good. 

It had been many years since I ate popcorn this way and not only did it satisfy my longing, it stirred up some great memories, reaching back to when I used to study late into the night at the University of Oregon library, pop myself a big bowl of popcorn, and watch Father Knows Best and other older tv shows on a Eugene cable network, KOZY. 

I loved that station -- it broadcast old movies and old tv shows all though the day and night -- lots of Spencer Tracy movies, which I loved, and this station introduced me to a movie I used to watch repeatedly: Leslie Howard in The Scarlet Pimpernel (1934). Back then, thirty-five or six years ago, Leslie Howard always charmed me when he recited:

We seek him here, we seek him there,

Those Frenchies seek him everywhere.

Is he in heaven? Is he in hell?

That damned, elusive Pimpernel.

One of these days, I'll have to put this movie on again and see if I still enjoy it the way I did when I was thirty-two, thirty-three years old. 

Hard to say.