Movie Master I am Not

I love reading. Heck, I could read all day and all night, just like my Nanny used to do. My hubby, on the other hand, goes through spells of reading, but has always been a movie buff. In order to get him to do certain chores around the house, I bribe him with tons of movies from the local library in town. For my trouble, I don't have to mow the lawn, deal with bugs, or take out the trash. Good deal, in my opinion.

However, I recently picked what I thought would be a cinematic gem, a delightful movie for both of us. The name of the movie is The Constant Gardener. Though there was a slightly perturbed looking gent on the front cover, I figured he was just grumpy because his wife had given him one too many "honey-do" lists. The night Glenn picked to watch this fab pic, I was having a rough time. I had been hurting all day with fistula issues, and was slightly medicated. But even through the fog of pain and subsequent pain meds, I patiently watched the movie and waited for the gardening to begin. A good hour into the movie, I asked my sweet hubby, "Where is the gardening ?". My innocence was revealed when he told me that the "constant gardening" had nothing to do with ivy, roses, or pretty little daises.
Here is a spoiler if you haven't seen the movie so beware: the "constant gardener" is called such because apparently the grumpy man on the DVD cover kills quite a few folks and must constantly bury the bodies to get rid of the evidence. Oh my goodness! My stars and garters! For me, this movie was quite a disappointment to me, but if you don't care a lick about gardening, then go for it. But don't blame me if you don't see any pretty plants or green thumbs in this flick.