Maxie McNabb, the "irresistible" Winnebago-driving sixty-something-year-old, is back---and criminals from the frigid Iditarod Trail to the scorching Southwest had better beware. With her canine companion, Stretch, in tow, Maxie is "the most refreshingly original protagonist to come along in years." (Earlene Fowler) And this time, she sets out to turn one on-edge town back into a peaceful pueblo....
One of the best parts of zigzagging the country in her Minnie Winnie is the possibility of endless adventure---and Maxie McNabb is always up for trying new things. So she and little Stretch head for the languorous heat of Taos, New Mexico, where Maxie plans to learn how to weave.
But everything changes for the sleepy town when a local woman attempts suicide. A casualty of her husband's midlife crisis, she has been replaced by a newer, sexier model. And to top it off, a sleay con man has set his sights on her.
Even though she's on vacation, Maxie is determined to help the poor thing. and with her nose for trouble, she thinks she can do it. She'll leave no mesa unturned until she brings two dogs to justice---neither of which is trusty Stretch....
Quotes.....
p. 38....To me there is a certain dignity in accepting what you are, and are becoming, however age sculpts you. I can understand the impulse to look as young as possible for as long as possible, especially if your appearance is important to how you make your living, like those in the movie industry, for instance, or to the kind of entertaining required of someone like Shirley in support of her husband's professional socializing. Maybe I'm just too casual about my appearance, or too stubbornly set in my ways, but to me the value of anyone is more in the kind of person he or she is than in looks.
p. 91....Admittedly, I am a book collector of the pack rat sort. I like the feel of them, the size and texture of their covers and pages, the smell of print on paper. At home my tall bookshelves full of books of many sizes and colors are better than wallpaper, more vibrant and interesting, full of the promise of new and old friends. Raised by parents who loved books and encouraged reading, I have always had trouble letting go of my books, though the shelves may be full to overflowing into stacks on the floor. During my first trip in a motor home with restricted space i therefore established a rule for myself: For every book I bring into the Winnebago, one must go out---unless---and I do have an escape clause---unless I elect to ship those I cannot bear to part with to a friend in Homer, Alaska, who holds them for me until I eventually come home to claim them.
pg 117....It is remarkable how threatened an intrusion into your private space makes you feel. We go along, day to day, assuming we are safe and ignoring how easy it would be for someone to just walk right in, invited or not, with good or bad intentions. When someone does, it shakes all your confidence in being safe behind locked doors. I couldn't help wondering what would have happened if I had been at home and was glad I had not been.
I was also glad to have had Butch with me when I tried to open the door. Now that he was gone I found myself feeling very much alone, and had an odd compulsion to pick up the phone and call someone, which is what I would have done if I had been at home. But couldn't think of anyone in particular I wanted to talk to except perhaps my son, Joe.
p119....I knew we had been walking together along a road in Homer, for I remembered a view of the bay and the mountains of the Kenai Range rising majestically beyond it to the south. It was a thing we had done often and I had valued those walks for their peace and what it said about our relationship. Couples who have long been close walk together differently than those who have not---steadily and in step, a sort of unspoken affermation. We had been walking like that, holding hands, and whatever small speech we had made had been pleasant and positive.
Then, as usual, the images were gone with Daniel, but I had no trouble retaining the emotion---a gift as dear as it had been when he was alive and we really had walked that road. Eyes still closed, I clung to that feeling as I gave up, let the rest go, and, grateful for small treasures, resettled myself in the bed.
Stretch shifted his weight near my feet and we both went back to sleep.
pg. 214...."What do you know about a landmark called the Tooth of Time?" I asked Pat. "Butch says I should go and see it when I go through Cimarron again."
"Oh, you should. It's a pretty impressive hunk of rock that crowns the ridge behind the Philmont Scout Ranch and is sort of a symbol for them. They use it on pins and badges, and take Scouts on hikes up to it. Someone told me once that they tell the boys that if they look over their shoulder at it before leaving they're sure to come back sometime."
I have read Sue Henry's books before, and enjoyed them all (the ones I have managed to read so far). I had reservations on the Maxie McNabb and Stretch books, about whether I'd like them or not, well I shouldn't have because they are really good!
This book I DID look forward to because it took place in and around Taos, NM. I visited there with my grandparents back in my mid-teens (around 1980) and loved it. But then I am VERY partial to exploring Native American culture, and we visited the reservation there. We were treated to fry cakes, Misti and I could only afford a couple, and the really nice ladies there threw in the other flavors as an extra. And I saw a wonderful pair of white moccassin boots in one of the stores that I wanted desperately, but didn't have money left for. The people that I did meet there were very nice and accomodating for a teenage girl. It is one of the few places that I have been that I would really like to return to visit.
And the book touched on weaving, which I have had a remote interest in for many years as well. Also gave me a few recommendations in reading material on the subject, which I intend to check into.
There was a few twists in the story that I really should have guessed on earlier, but didn't. And the book wasn't bound to gore and deep descriptions of crime scenes that can get a bit overwhelming at times. You just trail along with Maxie and Stretch and pals while the story unfolds. This is a really nice read when you are a bit overwhelmed with other things and can't take the depressing details of some of the more science based series. (Some of which I love as well, but can't take too much of at one time).
But Ms. Henry did make Weavings Southwest sound like a store that I would like to go to and browse. Sometimes fictional backdrops can just be frustrating, LOL!
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