Moving Pieces

Yesterday brought about the realization that I have a lot going on in my life right now; not necessarily a bad thing. It came during a harried lunch at home with my Favorite Panamanian as we called to move some money around because the construction on the condo in Las Lajas has reached the third floor (where ours will be) and another payment was due. After a call down there to confirm details my wife offered her critique on the deck I’m designing for the house we’re in the process of buying here. While this is all very exciting, it does lead to the harrying of lunches.

My Sister and Brother in Law Last Night

In the midst of all this we’re running up to Portland, Maine for a weekend getaway prior to my wife’s departure for yet another month away providing child care in California whilst Wingman departs on his farewell tour. Yep, a lot of moving pieces to life right now. We’re joining the excellent boss and his wife up in Portland so there’ll be shopping (wives) and bar crawling (guess who). On our way south we’ll stop by the Favorite Son and ABFA’s to meet Riggins, our new grandpuppy.

Riggins, a Soon to be 90 Pound Lap Dog

I may or may not blog from Portland. That will depend on the quality of the Wi-Fi connection and the ability of Alka Seltzer to deal with the excesses of Friday and Saturday nights. I’m looking forward to the trip as I’ve passed through Portland dozens of times but never stopped to look around. I’ve heard it can be entertaining. As a prelude to the trip north we had to locate a dog sitter for the Wonder Pooch which my sister, as always, stepped up for. I swear the Wonder Pooch can actually read minds because as soon as we finished dinner last night he became frantic with anticipation, seemingly knowing he was headed south to dog nirvana (my elder sister’s care). He charged down the front hallway knocking my wife into the bathroom. While I received a lecture on the “inappropriateness” of “my” dog’s behavior she closed the bathroom door which was locked from the inside. Sometimes Buddy just over achieves.

Remy Washing Dishes Last Night

As my wife and I journeyed south last night I discovered making this well-trod path is a lot more fun with company than my usual solitary status. Buddy arrived with his customary drama. He and fellow lab Remy were soon tearing around the house while Bailey the elder, calmer senior dog stared daggers at me for complicating his upcoming weekend. Remy is rambunctious as only a year old lab can be where everything is an adventure and strictures against chaos don’t hold. Surrounded by this swirling mass of canine adventure we had a very nice conversation with my sister and brother in law (I think I’m going to get rid of the “in law” – he’s so much more than that). They hadn’t seen my wife since Christmas so it was fertile territory for conversation on everything that had passed during her absence. It was one of those times you wished there was more of same available.

R.I.P. - It's Not Just the Doves Crying Now

I, like the rest of the world, was stunned to learn of the passing of Prince yesterday. While he was a seriously weird dude the man could sing and was one of those once-in-a-generation talents who won't be fully appreciated until he's gone. I always liked the fact that he was more about his craft than about celebrity. He was a true giant.

The next Joe Pickett novel fell to my all-consuming need to rush through this excellent series. Breaking Point by CJ Box has Joe back in his home district where two federal agents are gunned down. Joe is asked to guide the pursuing agents into the backcountry to locate the suspect whose daughter is good friends with Joe’s. Box goes a little overboard with his anti-government rants in this one but that can’t hide yet another great adventure in the startlingly beautiful Wyoming countryside. Anyone who’s read a Box novel knows I can make that statement sight unseen because he does such a great job describing. Joe’s friend Nate is noticeably absent for most of the book but that didn’t slow down the action. Joe remains the sole honest player in a far ranging plot involving corrupt bureaucrats, the odd Predator drone attack, a terrifying forest fire, and an epic white water journey.

Here is some of Box’s outstanding prose as Joe watches the forest fire march towards him:  “When he could see clearly from the edges of the meadows, which wasn’t often, Joe noted how the fire was racing up and across the mountain in what looked like reverse molten rivers of flame. It was ravenous and craven, without thought or mercy, and it either roared up ravines from the ground up or jumped from crown to crown of high dead pine trees like a manic gremlin, consuming everything it wanted to consume. The fire was so voracious that it seemed to be creating its own weather; hot blasts of air rocketed up the mountain and primed the dry timber for oncoming destruction. Long standing trees went whumpf and exploded into flame, and the underbrush snapped and crackled with a high pitched fury.”