Dear Hazel,

So just how much fun can one person have and still say they are at work?  Is there a rule about that?  I wouldn’t know ’cause I’m not having any. Fun that is.  So now I find out I have to fly 2 separate flights to pick up a prisoner Tuesday.  That’s ok as long as I don’t get screwed around with the weather. Remember the time it took me 4 days to get back with a bad guy? Yeah, the trip from hell, that was.  A pretty quick turnaround at the airport this time so I’m thinking I better not wear my slippery soled shoes in case I end up running and dragging my handcuffed, clanging, jangling buddy along behind me. (Traction can be an important thing, you know.) I’ve done that a time or two and then seen the plane out on the exit ramp of the runway.  I kinda look around and say “I knew that – it was a practice run for the flight we’re really scheduled for”.  Or if people stare at me too much too much as I stand around in all my finery with my bad guy it always works to look at him/her and say “did you REALLY eat the whole body?” Yeah, then people give you some space. Well, maybe I’m kidding.  Or not.

Oh and would you do me a favour and take the prosecutor’s sweater home and mend some of the holes in it?  Looks like large rodents have been at work on it.  Perhaps we can borrow one from the guy who lives under the tree across the street.  Would be a fashion statement improvement compared to the current status quo.

I sent out – WOW! my machine just beeped and IT’S FROM YOU! I must be physic – I spelled it that way on porpoise -love to play with your grammar-oriented OCD.

Later,

Sign me having too much fun in here,

Liz

…..to be continued