Church of saint Augustine in Rome, which houses a work by Caravaggio, featured in ‘The Garden of Evil.’
Yesterday, I did something I haven’t done in a while…spent the whole day reading. Okay, I got up from my chair and watered a few plants, pulled a few weeds in the garden, and helped David close down the bird cages at bedtime, but other than that, around six o’clock, David complained I had my face in my iPad all day.
I figure its important to get my circulation going to clear up the remaining bruises and blood clots, so I did move, to make a few cups of tea, play with a dog, etc. My excuse for my “idleness” was the pain in my knee, made worse by PT last Thursday (moral: don’t tell your PT your pain level is near zero). Following a ten minute workout on the recumbent bike, Nicole had me hopping up and down on the stairs in the clinic, and I really felt it later on. I know these moves are designed to strengthen thigh muscles or quads sliced and stitched by the surgeon, but they leave the bone aching. So I mostly sat on my duff and read yesterday.
Thus, I finished David Hewson’s Garden of Evil, set in Rome. Hewson is an art professor in England, and interjects much Renaissance art into his detective series set in Italy. Although several other reviewers complained about plethora of references to Renaissance art, Caravaggio in this instance, this is the least concern for me. Mostly, I found the book annoying because it took forever with many false starts to nail the bad guy.
I don’t watch American TV entertainment, so I am no fan of the police procedurals and the law and order issues which allow criminals to go free, and which seem to dominate the air waves and many mysteries these days. Give me Morse (Endeavor) any day. Or Father Brown. I who once thought Quentin Tarentino rocked, want cozy mysteries. The evening news is scary enough.
Hewson does not write a cozy mystery. So, if you enjoy a long mystery, full of arcane references to works by Caravaggio, plus blood and guts everywhere, and frustrated cops, this mystery may fit the bill.
Lately, Grandma Lin, a gifted artist, (see link below) has been doing a series of cartoons defining happiness. After I wrote the monthly checks this morning, I decided happiness is having enough money to pay the bills with some left over. Hopefully, this month there will be no car repairs, sick dogs or other issue to complicate our lives.
I’m proud of myself. I managed to squeeze out some money for Joy’s fall semester and pay for my round-trip air ticket to CA without tapping my savings. Meanwhile, everywhere I look I see something in this house in need of repair. Although functional, my kitchen needs a complete overhaul. Old John fixed all the small things and they look nice, but my garden shed needs a new roof, and the masonry on the north-facing side of the house is still crumbling. Oh well, as long as we move before this old house collapses all will be well. Problem is….move where? It’s up to me. David says “Do what you want.” He who never notices the slow deterioration of anything has finally begun to realize this place is getting away from us despite our best laid plans.