Monday, May 14, 2012

Remodel we must

"I can't possibly move another inch.  I've repositioned every rock and boulder on this property and planted every planter.  Don't ask me to do another thing."  Mrs. Hall slumped onto the white leather couch in the living room and slid slowly prone.  Mr. Hall called out to her as he descended the stair.
"Get up and get dressed- we're due at a 50th wedding anniversary party this evening and I promised we'd be there.  Scrub up quickly and present yourself beside Winston in 25 minutes."  He adjusted his tie and slipped into his saddle shoes; no mean feat in itself considering the work he had recently performed on the eves troughs earlier that day.  Mrs. H. groaned and began sandblasting the remains of the Hall left under her nails.
The boxing and removing of decades of debris had consumed their lives for the last several months, but things were coming down the wire in earnest now.  Just thinking about the prospect of moving filled Killer with unknown anxiety and dread, and it was all she could do to get her requisite fifteen hours of sleep a day.
The previous evening, after a hard days' efforts, when asked what she was preparing for dinner, Mrs. Hall petulantly replied that they were having Dutch babies, and liking it; to which Mr. H. quickly nodded and backed out of the kitchen.
 There were a few bright moments.  Mr. Hall's daughter Katie came up from Washington D.C. over the weekend, and joined them for their weekly splurge at Daniel's Grill.
The following week after a particularly grueling day, Mr. H. insisted they go for ice cream, and driving over to Skaneateles, they sat on the shore and watched that month's "supermoon" rise over the calm waters of the lake.

Dressed for dancing and displaying as much bonhomie as she could muster, Mrs. Hall hopped into Winston and beckoned him to drop the top.  As the little sports car pulled out of the hanger, circling the acreage as they went, Mrs. Hall surveyed the grounds.  Bright red geraniums waved to them from every pot and while in Mrs. Hall's mind she was  nodding back approvingly, Mr. Hall suspected she was just nodding off.

The low down from down under

Master Ian had deployed to Okinawa some time ago with the Marines, but lately had been sending reports from Darwin and the Northern Territories in Australia.  The Land Down Under had struck a chord with him and he felt immediately at home, though it was just his first time there.  A picture arrived in Mrs. Hall's inbox of a young and very sunburned fellow sporting a jaunty chapeau made of some sort of hide, and it took her a moment or two to realize it was Ian.  Despite the fact that the weather could best be described as extreme and every form of wildlife engaged in earnest pursuit of the title "Deadliest Creature on the Planet",  Ian was delighted and lapped up the culture with a ladle at every turn.
 The climate indeed favored him; his skills with the camera grew by leaps and bounds, as this amazing shot from a motocross event attests.

Early on in his career, a fellow Marine filmed him passing his days working on his models, and the Monitor has acquired a copy of that short endeavour.  Here, for the Gentle Reader's pleasure, is the resulting interview.

Tell your friends!