dual personalities

The week flew by and I have nothing much to show for it, having left the house hardly at all.  I did read an excellent book, Fall Back Down When I Die by Joe Wilkins, a writer and poet from Montana.

Wendell Newman, the main character, is a young Montana ranch hand who lives in a trailer on his family’s property. He is burdened by debts, among them his late mother’s medical bills and the unpaid mortgage on the land that has been in his family for generations. When, out of the blue, he receives custody of his jailed cousin’s traumatized young son, he does his best to care for the boy. Under Wendell’s low key care, Rowdy slowly begins to come out of his shell, but the family’s past and local political conflicts intrude on the pair, with dire results.

Picture of Bull Mountain Ranch, Montana from Google Image

The novel addresses political divisions and attendant personal grudges with refreshing subtlety, sensitivity and openness. There are no one-dimensional villains here — just imperfect people who sometimes let their emotions take the place of reason and then make bad decisions that have unintended consequences.  Fall Back Down When I Die is a beautifully written, thoughtful, character driven reminder to consider other people’s points of view before imposing our own, and that we should not kill (literally or metaphorically) just because we imagine a threat.

These brief comments do not do this wonderful book justice. You’ll just have to read it!

*from the film Wind River (a movie that, although darker, would pair well with this book)

Today, I am en route to St. Louis! I have been going non-stop for weeks now, and I’m looking forward to slowing down at home.

Unfortunately I am leaving these pretty flowers behind

Throughout my own trials this summer, DN has been taking great care of me: cooking, listening, driving, lovingly chilling cold compresses for my hot brow… (we do not have central air in our current apartment). Well, now it is my turn to take care. I am ready to cook, listen, and drive for my dear mother!

TBD whether she will need a cold compress for her brow.

Last night, in between long talks on the phone I watched part of The Time Machine (1960) starring Rod Taylor. It’s a pretty bad movie, although I enjoyed seeing Rod and a super young Yvette Mimieux. He was just 30 and she a mere 18.

What IS that monster with the animal skin wrap on?

Yvette was pretty, if a little wooden. Here she is not reacting to Rod after he saves her from drowning in a river.

Though Rod gives it his best, even he cannot save The Time Machine.

Doesn’t he seem older than 30?

Still, what I saw of RT made me think it would be nice to see him in another movie. Why not watch The Birds,

or The Glass Bottom Boat with Doris Day?

In any case, I’m up for an early 1960s film that I have not already seen a hundred times. Got any suggestions?

Due to a sick day or two, as well as an apparent refresh to the Netflix archive, we have been streaming a lot of movies lately. I have to say, it’s been an odd selection.

A recent pick of DN’s was Gosford Park (2001). I could only remember seeing this movie once before, when I was young and would often fall asleep on the floor of the den while watching films with our family. (Such is the condition of being the youngest, I think.)

I must admit, I fell asleep this time, too! This movie is about a murder that doesn’t occur until more than halfway through the storyline. There are funny moments, and about one and a half surprises, but after a long day I probably would have preferred a mystery that was pure fluff (read: Murder She Wrote).

One day in between naps, we watched Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants (2005). There is nothing significant to say about this movie, except that it is very 2005 and thus made me very nostalgic for straightened hair and aspirational romance. I certainly never visited Greece on summer vacation and fell in love with a family nemesis, but when one is 15, one imagines that they could do so. This series functions as a teen equivalent of Sex and the City, in that I’m sure you are meant to identify with at least one of the girls, who are unrealistically dissimilar for a set of best friends. I must have been a “Lena” who wished she were a “Bridget.”

Moving on. We also watched Bourne Supremacy, confirming that there is no method to our madness of movie choices and no consistency in our mood or taste this weekend. DN and I have always been able to agree on spy thrillers, so it becomes the genre of choice when neither of us feels like negotiating a compromise. I am not a huge Matt Damon fan, but “guy with amnesia, running fast” is certainly his forte.

I, for one, appreciated that a career woman with impeccable lipstick triumphs in this installation of the series. (N.b.: I’m making fun of the lipstick.)

I saw on Instagram this weekend that it was Robin Williams’s birthday. (Edit: I had originally thought it was the anniversary of his death, but that is August 11.) Perhaps, then, we should watch Awakenings, an all-time favorite.

Monday will mark my thirtieth year of marriage. Yes, thirty years of home sweet home (Hell’s Half Acre?).

and loving support.

My DH protects me from beasts,

and encourages me to explore new things.

We’ve been together through thick and thin (okay, by now we’re not so thin). Here’s to 30 more years, my dear DH! With luck, I’ll be home tomorrow to celebrate in person. Until then…

Please note: I’m writing this post from St. Louis on a Mac (of all things!) and without access to most of my photos — hence no pics of our three marvelous offspring. Love to you all!

I think so. It feels like all I could manage to post today is:

DN and I are dealing with a number of unforeseen challenges (and opportunities! but challenges nonetheless). It just amazes me how you can feel that you have a lot going on, and then something new pops up. Yikes-a-mighty!

But hey. We still have grocery store flowers!

Here’s to hanging in there.