Edged And Maxed In

We ‘re entering the final stage of the move-in process which saw me spending a few hours out in the yard with my favorite Panamanian last evening. We still haven’t hung up the pictures – the literal last step and I’m beginning to think she doesn’t want to do this until she’s in the right frame of mind (sorry). Yesterday was a perfect New England summer day and since another deluge was scheduled for today we took the opportunity to work outside. My wife’s vast gardens which my sister and brother in law spent all of a Saturday transporting in pots to the new house are starting to find their way into the ground.

I was not entrusted with such a delicate task so I took on the driveway where my brute force and ignorance could be applied in typically reckless fashion. The house had been unoccupied for an extended time so the lawn encroached onto the driveway from both sides with weeds and grass growing up between some cobblestones on the front walk. A perfect opportunity where no creativity was required! I even got to use the automatic edger to full effect.

Apparently I'm Not The First

We did experience our first tragedy of the move and it was not minor. I was fairly proud that we’d made the move and I hadn’t broken anything of consequence, yet. The “yet” went by the wayside yesterday when I moved my wife’s cement statue of the Virgin Mary aside so I could edge the tall grass next to the house. I, in true idiotic mode, placed the statue on a slope where it inevitably fell when my back was turned. Unfortunately it fell directly onto a cement bench which severed the head from the statue. This was not a small thing to my wife who has a serious problem displaying a decapitated Virgin Mary in our yard and I do not want to be associated with ISIS gardening techniques. Luckily it looks like a clean break and if I can work some magic with some cement glue tonight I may be able to save my soul as well as my marriage.

A sign that life is finally returning to a more mundane level was the return of date night after a couple week hiatus. We traveled the whole of five minutes to the biggest theater in Worcester (YES!!!) where we saw the movie – Max. A movie about the military and dogs – like I was going to miss this! We had to dodge the crowds of women flocking to see the new Channing Tatum strip tease movie to get through the lobby (my wife will be seeing that tonight with the mafia). Max is the story of a military working dog disconsolate after the death of his handler in combat and bonds with his handler’s punk brother. The dog steals the entire movie but you know that going in and the director doesn’t pull any punches in going straight for the heart. I don’t like picking on kids, but the actor in the lead role of the punk brother is a disaster. Luckily he’s surrounded by a surprisingly strong supporting cast. Lorelei Gilmore is not aging well (drawing a gasp from my wife when she appeared on screen) but she was her usual awesome as the mother. This movie doesn’t make any pretensions about its target audience. I liked the unapologetic approach. Max is the updated descendent of Lassie and Rin Tin Tin.  As long as you understand that – go see it and have your heart melted.

Like I Said - Heartstrings

I finished off another book yesterday by an author who used to be one of my favorites – W.E.B. Griffin. He’s taken on a co-author (his son) for his novels as he’s aged and this has left me with a profound respect for his earlier novels. Ability to write succinct thrilling prose is not inherited and the latest novels suffer from the son’s efforts. I still read them because Griffin has me fully invested in the characters he created in several series of novels. This latest, The Last Witness, is in the Badge of Honor series concerning the Philadelphia Police Department.

Sergeant Matt Payne is back trying to balance a pregnant girlfriend with the latest in his long series of violent confrontation with semi-organized crime. Payne remains a compelling character but, as is the case with so many of Griffin’s more recent work, more time is spent dwelling on setting descriptions than on moving the action forward (one of the greatest things about Griffin’s early work). I enjoyed catching up with Payne but this book seemed more about insuring the series continues and dopes like me, who were first captured by The Lieutenants back in the early 1980s, continue to fork over cash for seriously diluted Griffin.