very tired 18-hour bras working a double shift. In the preschool room my tiny French student notices the Bandaid over my hot glue burn and says, "Boo boo." From this small step she suddenly expresses the big idea, "I like your shirt. Do you like my shirt?"
I do. I like that party shirt! Go, Dog, Go! We are cooking.
Here in Texas I put a Chicken Davenport ala Doris casserole into my preheated newlio trulio functioning oven. Doris was my sister-in-law way back in the before time. She made a gourmet dish of chicken, frozen broccoli, frozen hashbrowns, cheese, and cream of chicken soup for a bridal shower a quarter century or so ago. I can't remember "divan", and I can't exactly google "Doris", although I miss her and wish her well after all these years, and her husband, too. Another former sister-in-law lived in Davenport, Iowa, a swing state. Somehow Chicken Divan got mixed up with davenports, couches, sofas,sleepers, settees, divans, loveseats, futons, and sectionals. The secret is having plenty of buttered bread crumbs baked on top of the casserole. Enough might even prevent divorce.
I am so far behind. I zip and dart from Halloween tie-dye experiments to Hurricane Sandy fretting. Sitting in the waiting room for my blood pressure checkup, I pass the time writing fall student progress reports. This creative endeavor seems to calm the blood pressure. My doctor pronounces my blood pressure "beautiful". Not bad for a divorced couch casserole boo-boo art teacher.
© 2012 Nancy L. Ruder