The Dynamic Duo

Why did I think my life would slow down when I didn’t have the kids around? Maybe it will still happen, but for this week, at least, I have been crazy busy.
Some of it is my own fault, that is, of my own doing. I seem to have become rather obsessed of late with PLANTS. I can hardly go into any store but what a 6 pack of petunias or pansies leap into my shopping cart and insist on coming home with me. Occasionally it is vegetable plants or even a bush, but once brought home they all require, at some point, being planted and cared for. The seeds that I planted in my garden, donated by the always generous Crash before he left, have all sprouted and are doing great, esp the radishes. I know what you are thinking: even an idiot can grow radishes. Touche.
I also am now involved with WeightWatcher meetings two nights a week. I enjoy them up to a point, but sometimes wish I didn’t have to go, esp since I have to weigh myself every time I do! But it is always fun once I get there, and so motivating to see people turning their lives around.
Since UltraDad works such long and hideous hours, I try to be a caring wife and have his meals ready on time and a lunch packed, even if its only a tub of margerine. ( This story is in a prevous post; the name of it escapes me at the moment.) And, of course, I like to spend time with him when I can.
And let me tell you, WORK, that 4-letter word has really been taking up my time lately!
I don’t know if you have been following my randomly posted prison store sagas, but let me bring you up to speed on current employees. You may remember that Carlos and Sean both left rather unceremoniously and without warning. It prison jargon, they were “rolled up” and sent to “the hole”, solitary confinement in a bigger prison. They were accused by association, but both will now soon be out on parole. Joe, my store clerk who REALLY spoiled me is now gone also. Joe was a very organized person and streamlined a lot of our store procedures such as distribution and ordering. He transferred to another minimum security facility so be closer to his chronically ill mother, and because, quite frankly, he really needed a change. So now I have Matt, a young black man who is very smart and very personable. I also have Ricky, an older white guy who has spent nearly 20 years in prison for a bad DUI accident. He is hardworking and has a strong faith. In all those years, he has never had a “write up” (like a demerit), very unusual. We miss Joe and his skills, but we are doing okay. That is, we do all right when the computer is functioning. Lately, this has been an elusive dream. The technology support group now recognizes my voice from frequent phone calls.
The other day, I was looking at my antiquated computer equipment and commented on the fact that my keyboard was missing some standard keys, like ESC and CTRL. As Matt and I discussed the matter, it suddenly dawned on me: “Of course! This is a PRISON keyboard! No ESCAPE and no CONTROL!” Matt laughingly agreed with me. Latter when I was on the phone with Eddie, the main technology guy, I mentioned my “theory to him”.
“It is a dumb terminal,” he informed me humorlessly. “And it does have a ESCAPE key. Its just labeled SYS/AN (or something like that).” Well, he wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know, esp. about the “dumb computer”. Actually, this computer is downright stupid!
I steadfastly attempted to plow through my work, with the computer taking up to 2 minutes to respond to a single keystroke. Then when I would nearly have an inmate purchase completed, I would get the dreaded flashing red error message and I would be down again. This went on for several days, and noone seemed to be able to find the problem. One inmate, a young Asian man, offered to come into the store and fix the computer for me. It seemed he had his own computer business “on the streets.” Finally, it was determined that the UPS or Uninteruptable Power Supply was being interrupted. Frequently. It was an ugly business; lots of inmates had money, but I couldn’t help them spend it. The last time I worked, however, things seemed to be getting a little better, and I vowed to never again complain or shout unseemly epithets at the computer if it was merely running at a snail’s pace. Naturally, my vow was soon forgotton.
Today I had a rather long, but interesting day. Jackson, my boss, asked me if I would like to drive 2 hours to Halfhitch Minimum Security Prison to run their store for a day. “Ms. Kelly has been on vacation and NDF (the inmates payroll) has cleared. Those guys haven’t had store in nearly two weeks and are really hurting.” Let’s see, extra hours, travel pay, and the chance to see how a different store functioned. A no-brainer as far as I was concerned. I arrived a little after 8 am and was ushered in by the officer on duty. “We really appreciate your coming, Ma’am,” he said. “You will be hailed as a hero,” he continued as he issued me two large handfulls of keys. This was a little daunting. In Calvin I had two KEYS total. “I would really like a tour of the camp,” I informed him. “And by the way, what do I need so many keys for?” I queried. (Queried…........isn’t that a great word? Sounds like kind of a cross between quarried and questioned….........and it makes you sound quite…....pretentious, if you know what I mean) “You have a lot of locks, Ma’am. And I’ll be glad to give you a tour of our facilites; right after you run the store, that is.” Okay!
Ms. Kelly’s two very proficient clerks soon showed up and helped me figure out what keys to use to gain access to the store. Their set-up is a bit different from ours. They are entirely inside, while our window (to pass out purchases) opens to the outdoors. Also, they have an ice machine that would noisily drop large quantities of ice as it was being made, startling me every time. They also have a storeroom a bit down the hall that is secured with 3 locks. As I began running the inmate “tickets”, or store purchase slips, Harry informed me that the store was low on tobacco and ramen soup. They watched me as I input the orders, helping me decide who should get and in what quantitiy they should get items that were in short supply. I suspect that most of the decisions were based on who they liked. I worked in that store for over 8 hours, but we got it done. I have NEVER run so many tickets before in one day, or had such a high dollar amount in sales.At the end of the day, the camp LT himself showed me the camp. I was thinking I saw more of the that camp than I have of the one I work at each day. I may have to remedy that….. This camp at Halfhitch is unusual in that the inmates live in small rooms, 2 to a room. They call them cells, but they have no bars. The LT told me he heard they had come from the Alaska Pipeline project. They remind me of a really old, crummy dorm room. Most of the camps, including Calvin, feature more of the bunkhouse arrangement with rows of bunk beds down each wing. One unique feature of this camp are the schulptures made of pulaskis (look it up), each containing a painted coffee can, evidently for cigarette butts. I was amused to see several ducks on the lawn; these ducks evidentally belong to the camp and all have names, the most memorable of which is AFFLECK, a large, white one. I also got to see the black fire line, where a raging fire had burned up to about 70 yards from the camp perimeter. I hear how they were told to evacuate, but were not able to leave because the fire was blocking the only road in. They hunkered down in the culinary area, and they ended up being just fin.
FInally, I’m back home. Tomorrow we leave for Idaho for a few days, where we will see some of the UltraKids, some fo the Ultrabrothers(in-law) and wifes and some UltraFriends.
I’m still hoping things may someday slow down enough so that I can try out that new fishing pole UltraDad bought me for my birthday.
UltraMom

UltraMom & Rosebush. I did not plant this one; it was already here.