She's Baaaaaaaaaack!

So, where in the h-e-double-hockey-sticks has Prairie Sherry been hiding these past months?  I suspect some of you think I may have ended up in extended rehab after the wrist break and the heavy reliance on mind-altering and pain-numbing drugs. It is true that I spent a good part of January carrying on conversations with myself and wandering about the house trying not to bump into furniture.

Weep, Michelle Obama.

Truth is, the wrist is healing very nicely.  I'm not doing push-ups or bench pressing yet, but since these have never been a part of my health maintenance, I am not terribly concerned. Let me tell you what I have been doing.

Oops, no women in this pic.

Besides the teaching gig, I went back to my high school roots, and I am working at a new supermarket that moved into my side of Madison. Despite the fact that I am now working about 65 hours a week, I am enjoying the new challenge.  One of my favorite parts of the job is that I get to wear starched shirts, tailored black pants, and dress shoes. I have always been a sucker for a uniform. I do find it amusing that as a teacher I am required to wear a shapeless man's t-shirt with a cartoonish school logo and blue jeans every Thursday to boost student morale. Whose morale was ever boosted by tacky?

"Hey kids, let's learn about
literary devices

My job is customer service.  Yes, I am the one who gives you a refund when you go home to discover that you already have three containers of salt squirreled away in your pantry.  I give you your rain check when we run out of the $1.28 strawberries.  I sell you your book of stamps so you can complete Prairie Eydie's 30-day-card-writing challenge.  I can also satisfy your gambling addiction with Lotto tickets, rent you a Rug Doctor, send out your dry cleaning, create your money order, connect you to the bakery, cash your paycheck, hold your groceries while you run home for your debit card, and call AAA when you lock your keys and cell in the car. I like to think of it as professional problem solving. 

This week is my spring break at school, so I am "relaxing" at home. My challenge is to get the kitchen thoroughly cleaned and hopefully find my favorite paring knife that has been missing since my drug-hazed January.  So far I haven't found the knife, but I discovered that this family owns 27 pairs of chop sticks and something that pits, peels, and cuts mangoes. Continuing in my cleaning frenzy and being the eternal optimist, I have chipped 6 months of road salt off the Toyota.  I have tempted the weather gods even further by tossing the filth-encrusted car mats in lieu of spanky-new mats.  I am also helping our newest family member settle in.  

Oliver Twist Harry Houdini Puttmann

On Saturday I brought home a 12 pound bundle of tannish doggy fluff we have named Oliver, as in Oliver Twist.  The name was a no-brainer after he looked at us with these mournful eyes that seem to be begging for that extra bowl of porridge. Olly is nine years old, has no teeth, is a cuddlier, and a Houdini when it comes to slipping any sort of barricade I devise to keep him into the kitchen area while we are gone. I was sure that the last one was impenetrable, but he proved me wrong.  Olly has had a rough life. Found as a stray, he was rescued from euthanasia at a high-kill shelter by a local organization called Shelter From the Storm  He has been waiting for a home for six months.  He and Rory seem to have reached a detente that has both parties agreeing the share the downstairs sofa with me--Rory on my left and Olly on my right. Peace negotiations continue.  

Impossible since neither have opposable thumbs.

Glad to have found my way back to the blog!
Prairie Sherry