I think I've said something about how different a regular housing unit is from the Hive already. But I'm going to say it again.
I worked three house today with TJ and the Gnome. We had no sergeant, so it was just the three of us. Aside from the occasional wing walk or a few cell searches, we spent most of the night up in the bubble swapping tall tales and talking about teevee shows.
Walking the wings in a GP house is just so odd. For one thing, most of the cell doors are open most of the time. That still freaks me out just a little.
And it smells clean. Sure, there's the odd guy who just came in from playing ball or something and is a little sweaty, but there isn't the deep overpowering funk all over everything. Nobody in a GP house plays in their poop and I forgot how much I appreciated that.
The inmates are, for the most part, polite to me. When they talk to me at all, and there are quite a few of them that remember me, they are to a man amazed to see me outside of the Hive and they all remark on that. And most of them agree that it's a good thing I got out of there.
I guess I'm ready to relax a little and not be stressed out and hurt all the time.
This move will probably save me a small fortune in aspirin and antacids.
Time will tell.
Dogs, calves, and coats - *Next Tuesday our yearling Holstein steers will be butchered, one for the oldest grandson and his wife (they've paid for theirs, including all expenses), a...
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