A Job, A Home, and A Little Brown Dog

I just typed in my blog's URL, logged in, and took a look.  To my horror, I realized that my last blog entry was dated June 4, 2010.  Yes, Dear Reader, two months and a week have passed since I last graced this site with my mildly mind-stirring mutterings.  I should be (and, therefore, am) ashamed.  So what follows is a quick look at the what and why of my absence.

Last Tuesday, August 3rd, I started my new job at the Georgia School for the Deaf.  I am now one of two brand-spanking new staff interpreters.  I should clarify by stating that while I am neither spanking nor new to the interpreting field, I am a completely unknown quantity to most of the faculty and staff of that august institution.  Suffice it to say that the learning curve will be steep for all involved.  Even so, I am having a great experience and look forward to building fantastic relationships and a successful career there.

As part of the whole new job thing, Jen and I have moved from our dear old dusty crackerbox in Oxford, Alabama to a nice new place in Jacksonville.  I'm still left with a commute, but it's all country roads and is a pleasure to drive compared to the hour-plus interstate grind I've been making for the past several years.  The new place is a palace compared to our old digs.  It's not perfect, but it already feels much more like home than either of our previous residences.  As I told Jen, I intend for that to be our second-to-last move; the last one being when we finally buy a place in which we'll live out the remainder of our happy days.  Jen says that she'd be totally fine with buying this new house, but we'll just have to wait and see if that becomes a possibility.

Finally, we've had a bit of a speed bump in the pet department.  It seems that while we were moving out of the old house, Ginger, our miniature Dachshund, found her way over to the vacant lot beside the house.  The lot is densely overgrown and is a home to lots of fallen trees, critters and debris from years of neglect.  Poor Ginger apparently somehow hurt herself while down in that nearly impassable jungle.  When she came out, she acted as though she had done something to hurt her ribs.  A few days later, the kids noticed that she was dragging her right leg behind her.  By that evening, she had lost the use of both hind legs.  Jen took her to the animal hospital and they kept her for two nights.  She's coming home today (Tuesday), and we'll be looking at the reality of dealing with a pet who is physically disabled.  On a lighter note, Jen told me in a matter-of-fact way that, if it came down to it, Ginger would have one of those doggie wheelchairs.  I kind of chuckled, and she gave me The Look.  "I'm serious," she interjected.  I instantly affected a properly rebuked mein and replied "Sure.  I just don't know how much those things cost," to which she immediately shot back "A hundred and fifty dollars.  I've already been checking around."  The moral here: don't take a woman's love for her Little Brown Dog lightly.  She. Will. Cut. You.

So that, Dear Reader, is that for this update.  I hope to begin making new entries on a regular basis once again soon.  I simply need to make sure that my schedule is relatively stable and that I keep my Honey Do list short.  Thanks for reading and as always, I appreciate your comments.