in the vault

recently, for some unknown reason, i asked the godfather, if you were going to put a safe in our house, where would it be?

and without blinking, or pausing even for a nano second, he said underground.

i said underground?

he said yes.

i said how big would it be?

big enough to walk in?

like a vault?

or an underground vw bus?

i sometimes fall back into hippie mode, even though i know i'm a mafia wife.

he said big enough.

hot. hot. hot.

i'm fascinated with this kind of thinking.

(that's probably obvious)

anyway.

since then, i've been imagining the  safe door for some reason.

would it have rivets?

of course it'd be metal.  

bulletproof?

would the handle spin, and make little clicking sounds as it did?

and more importantly, would i be given the combination?

oddly, the things that occupy my mind don't always jive with real life.

the godfather will ask me sometimes, can you go by the bank?

and i'll say the bank?

and he'll say yes.  the bank.

i'll say but i don't know where it is.

and he'll have to tell me.  then i'll go, and make a deposit of some sort, but i might as well be on another planet, that's how remote those places are to me.

i prefer ca$h.

so much simpler.

the godfather tells me, you've got to learn some of this stuff.  what are you going to do when i die?

i say you're not going to die.

maybe i'll die before you do, so then what would be the point of all that learning?

and he says what if i die first?

and i say well.

i guess if that happens, someone will show up at the front door wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase, won't they?

and he said yeah.

pretty much.

so why should i worry?

god.  i have enough to think about.

like that big thick make-believe metal door on the make-believe safe underground.

yesterday was first radiation.

the godfather and our daughters went along as pit crew.

we had to say goodbye when it was actually time to have the blast.

after being led down more hallways, i was met with another crew, who led me through to the radiation space itself.

we walked through a doorway.

 and the doorway housed a metal door, riveted, at least 6 inches thick.

i stopped and splayed my fingers as far as they could go, and i still couldn't grasp the thickness.

my crew kept walking deeper in, but i was stuck at the door.  the divider.

i said what's up with the door?

but i knew.

they said oh.  we have to walk out.  we can't get radiated.

i knew this.

but the radiation equipment was easily 30 ft or more from the vault opening.

if a thick door is shut, to keep the 'bad stuff' away from the rest of population, who are one side of it, the 'good side,' it's a strange and lonely moment being on the other side.

just a little radiation 101.

1 down.

32 to go.

xx katy