At my mother's house

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Deja vu, a rerun of last year, when I visited my mother after her hip replacement surgery. The surgery was redone (dang) back in February, and here I am again. My mother's house is still immaculate, and her penmanship still puts mine to shame.

Prescott, Arizona is a nice change from Alexandria, Virginia. Out of the dense green sauna, into the dry, low mountains of central Arizona. I enjoy the local wildlife. Quail are abundant here, as are geckos --my mother calls them Geicos, a triumph of advertising.

This afternoon we'll rent Marley and Me, the first but not the last dog movie we'll watch while I'm here. I saw it myself recently, but I'll enjoy watching it again because Marley could be my dog. Saint looks just like him: a 100lb field lab, exact same color, same face. And although my dog has outgrown some of the bad behavior--as a puppy he chewed furniture, rugs, shoes, and the woodwork--he still has Marley's energy level. Saint is a graduate of Olde Towne School for Dogs, but he's still a handful, and only real dog lovers can be called upon to feed him when I'm away.

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July 2012

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