I'll send an SOS to the world...

Back to our regularly scheduled prison programming....

1:22 am. 30 minutes after the silence of the prison was pierced by the violent screams of a prisoner, the Guard is now channeling old school Police. The calming voice of Sting is what is needed to sooth the frayed nerves. Message in a bottle. Check. 

Apparently the vicious stomach bug has not been irradiated from the prison as once believed. #1 awoke the cell block with screams that suggested an exorcism was immediately needed. Brave attempts by the Guard to sooth the inmate did not prevent the appocolpyse from occurring. 

Veterans write about the sights, sounds and smells of war and how those sights, sounds and smells can never be forgotten. Although the cell block was not a deadly battlefield this evening, a war was fought.  The sights, sounds and smells from this event can never be unseen, unheard or unsmelled. 

What exited #1 was not human. Multiple trips to the commode, close examination of a trash can and a final failed attempt for one last trip to the commode resulted in a toxic mess for the Guard with clean up lasting what seemed like an eternity. 

1:36 am:  Clean up complete. All that is left is to remove the 'stuff' from the prison. Having responded to the exorcism from bed, the Guard was not fully clothed during the response and clean up. In his tired and dazed state, he exits the prison for the 50 foot walk to the trash cans. 

The trek out doors in the middle of the night was meant to be quick. A jacket and boots were put on with the idea that it was a short trip so the bare legs should not be effected by the cold air as the trip would be fast. With thoughts of the bed kept warm by the Warden, the Guard cuts corners to get the job done quicker. Shoe laces untied, the guard exits the prison and heads down the path through the prison yard. On each side of the path is approximately 18 inches of hard frozen snow. Remnants of the 37 snow storms that have hit the area. 

The toxic waste is deposited into the trash cans. The cold air is starting to wick at the exposed legs of the Guard. He hastens his pace back towards the prison. In an instant, a New York second, the blink of the eye, the Guard finds himself off the path and deposited into a hard and cold snow bank. Immediately he realizes that the shoe laces to his boots really should have been tied, or at least tucked away. Cutting corners results in those corners cutting you. 

Message in a bottle. 

Message in a bottle. 

I'll send an SOS to the world. 

Sick kids but work goes on....

When I started this blog I had every intention to always refer to our family the way way I have been doing. But right now, I take a break from that. 

My daughter is sick and it breaks my heart. But the #3 got me. 'Dad, I have to poop. Please carry me'. Halfway across the room, it wasn't poop she needed to get out of her system. From my ear to my knee. 2 minutes before a conference call that I HAD to be on.  Took those 2 minutes and cleaned her up and then got on my call as she fell asleep.  So the mess sat on me for an hour. So for that hour and change today, she was my daughter and I was her dad. Hopefully she returns to her ornerary self soon so she can go back to being an inmate and I can be a Guard. 

Next post will be back to our regularly scheduled programming. 

School delays, stomach bugs and ice jams

Is winter over yet?  Seriously, this winter seems to have lasted 2 years already. 

In addition to the normal chaos in the Prison, we had our typical daily (it seems) winter storm roll through last night. Nothing major, just a few inches. Enough for a 2 hour delay for school, and enough to require shovels to be broken out again.  Considering yesterday was a school holiday that was used as a makeup day, I shouldn't complain about a delay. At this point there may not be much left of summer vacation.  

Overnight was a different story inside the prison. Complete chaos. 1&3 decided that they no longer wanted the contents of their stomachs and expedited the removal of contents through the same routes that it entered their bodies. It was like there were multiple exorcisms. Many times. While in bed. Little sleep for the Warden and Guard as it required middle of the night clothing changes, bedding changes and even a few baths. 79 loads of laundry and 2 sick prisoners for the day. And of course, #2 threw a 'it's not fair' fit when he learned he had to go to school by himself. 

Becoming seriously concerned with the status of the prison roof due to ice dams in the gutters. Spent hours staring at (shouldn't my glare melt ice?), thinking about and researching how to make our gutters function again but I got nothing. Nearly a foot of snow on the roof and the gutters are starting to show the strain and the ice is even trying to rip them apart. I guess it could be worse because some of the neighboring prisons are in much worse shape. I just can't help but think about how all this snow will melt someday (I hope!) and end up in our basement or worse. 

I guess this scene is pretty typical.

Test

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I've lost it and Cailou is to blame

This winter is really becoming difficult. Outdoor exposure is limited and activities are quickly becoming old. Cabin fever has set in long ago. The remaining crutch for survival is the boob tube (a term my mother used frequently and I only now fully understand her meaning behind the use).

My disdain for Cailou has been well documented over the years and it has only gotten worse. There is just something about that little bald kid that grates at the very being of my soul. 

But I have now lost it. Officially. Totally. I blame the Sprout channel, YouTube and the makers of Cailou. And I blame the inmates of this prison. How do I know I have lost it?

Exhibit A:

That was a text message conversation between me and the Warden from earlier today. 

Water boarding inhumane for terrorists?  Strap them in front of an endless stream of Cailou and I guarantee they will break. Quickly. 

I am not alone in my thinking. I have spoken to fellow Wardens and Guards with inmates who feel the same way. It is not just a local feeling either. Just put 'I hate Cailou' into google if you don't believe me. 

Exhibit B:

The funniest sentence I have ever read to support my argument: Cailou is French for Shut Up.  Brilliant. http://www.howtobeadad.com/2012/10864/caillou-french-shut

The prosecution rests. 

Bathing suits, bowling pins and aliens

Every morning gives rise to new beginnings and adventures at Garfield Prison. We just never know what we will encounter. 

After another game of wakeup chicken, the Guard blinked once again and ventured into the common areas to discover what awaits. The 'blink' was driven by a number of factors. #1 had already awoken us to show us her crafting creativity. This morning it was a picture collage that was created after finding a stash of hidden pictures that had not yet been secured in photo albums. Multiple pictures were cut up an collagued together with copious amounts of tape ( thankfully not the duct tape). High points for creativity, low points for destruction of some good pictures. 

Upon venturing deeper into the prison, it was discovered that #3 has a severe case of cabin fever. She had rifled through her closet and found bathing suits. Instead of dressing herself in weather appropriate clothes, she mixed and matched 3 seperate bathing suits for her outfit. And talked of swimming and water. It was also soon disvovered that her beach for the day is her bathtub where water has been introduced. 

Like a race car, our motto is 'sit down, strap in and shut up.'  Just go with it. 

Last evening we were extremely lucky to engage the services of a local teen so that we could escape temporarily. The Warden and Guard were able to escape to do some bowling. Four on four, boys against girls. Who won?  Well, apparently not all bowling pins are created equal. While on paper the boys won 2 of 3 matches, the Warden insists she was the winner because she individually beat everyone on her team each game, and beat the Guard 2 of 3 games. I'll just leave it at that. I am sure I will catch heat for even the suggestion that I infered that she was not the winner as she believes. 

We really are lucky though to have found an extremely smart and good sitter to help us. Upon return she have us the report of the bed time interactions, which, to her credit, was handled much better than this Guard would have likely handled it. Her creativity is really what makes me mention her at. She left us with this hilarious staging of some of #2's toy aliens. 

That is good stuff right there!!