HOMELESS SHELTER

I called a homeless shelter this morning and asked them if they were serving meals Thanksgiving Day. In the past, they have. The lady said they were. I asked if they needed any help this year--money, donations, etc. The lady assured me they needed help. She said with the economy the way it is that they are full up with families and children every night and that she's sure they will have a full house for Thanksgiving. I also happen to know from watching the news that any number of young war veterans (who live on the street) get their supper there every night. She asked what I would like to do.

I told her my entire family lives out of state except my partner and he works all day every Thanksgiving so I was free for the day. She asked if I knew how to cook a turkey. Is there anybody in the world who does not know how to cook a turkey? Apparently there are, but the problem the homeless shelter faces is a huge guest list and not enough stoves to go around. They have food and people who donate money. They don't have the equipment to cook huge meals on site. Long story short, I know how to cook. And boy, do I have the stove to cook it on. I think it was just last spring that I invested in that super duper amazing stove we have sitting in the kitchen. I'm cooking a Thanksgiving dinner and hauling it to the homeless shelter. They can put the stuff on the table with the rest of the donated dinners and serve it.

It will give me something productive to do on Thanksgiving Day. I have always loved cooking traditional Thanksgiving dinner. I'm a relatively good cook. And, there are probably some hungry folks who will appreciate the food. I'll be home in time to whip something up for Eric and me that evening. He doesn't like traditional Thanksgiving food and he'll be delighted not to be faced with turkey and dressing with all the fixings. Seems a far better use for the day than just dreading it because Eric's working, my sister and her family are in Florida, and my children and grandchildren are in Texas.

I don't get to have the holiday that I loved and remember from childhood. So, I'll create a new kind of holiday------not the same, but it may be better in the long run.

GOD WORKED YET ONE MORE MIRACLE

AMERICA HAS ALWAYS BEEN A MIRACLE.

Last night God worked yet one more miracle in His history of miracles. Barack Obama is President Elect-----an American who happens to be half white and half black. I never thought I would live to see this day, but I lived to see this day!!!!

John McCain began to redeem himself last night. The man who loved this country in his youth began to show himself again. Hopefully, the man who loved his country in his youth will come back full stage and distance himself from what he became when he lost himself in his blind ambition to become President.

Now, we must focus on driving Palin from Alaskan politics and making sure she never rises again. We don't want to drive Palin back to Alaska---she'll kill all the wolves and polar bears. She needs to be driven completely from politics--everywhere.

I VOTED

This morning, I drove to my polling place (the middle school behind our house) and eventually found a parking place. It was crowed. I parked my car and had to sit in the car a few moments to collect myself. I was crying and I knew I could not walk into the school filled with long lines of prospective voters crying. I've voted in every election I was eligible to vote in since I got the right to vote. Nothing new there. I've never been moved to tears at the polling place. Every vote has counted, but no vote has ever mattered like this vote matters.

THIS VOTE MATTERS!!!

It is long past time for this country to beginning healing. It is long past time for diplomacy to once again be front and center in international relations. It is long overdue for this country to take its rightful place again with the other great countries who lead this world. It's time for healing, strength, intellect, character, guidance, compassion, ethics and morality.

As I sat in my car this morning trying to gain control of my emotions, I realized that there are people who live in history and for history. I knew also that there were other people who lived on the seconds right before history is made--before it's ever spoken, written, or taught. I realized I'm one of those people who lives on the seconds right before history is made--always have been.

Today, as the votes are being cast, are the seconds before history is made. Tomorrow it will be over.

Today is the moment! We lived it.

I lived it alone with my tears, but I lived it!

DO NOT LET YOUR GUARD DOWN

As a election draws near and one candidate shows a whopping big lead in the polls, it's a temptation not to bother to vote because all the talk is that he/she is going to win---the polls say so.

DON'T BELIEVE IT!!! Races tend to tighten in the last few days or even hours, people do strange things once they get in voting booths (things they'd be ashamed to admit in public), races can be lost simply because YOU got lazy and over confident.

Let nothing keep you from voting!!! This is the most important election in my 62 years. GO VOTE. Don't let the TV or newspapers help you get lazy. You do not want to wake up November 5, 2008 and realize that you could have saved it. GO VOTE!!!! IT'S THE MOST IMPORTANT THING YOU CAN DO IN YOUR LIFE. VOTE!

The Great General

Today, General Colin Powell (the former Secretary of State) endorsed Barack Obama. Today, all I can do is thank God for General Powell. His timing was perfect!

I know all the hate filled, right wing idealogues will say he endorsed him because they are both black.

But, I know race had nothing to do with this endorsement.. He provided his reasons for Obama and against the Republican Party intelligently and with great articulation. And, I totally agreed with his analysis.

TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS

This week, I've watched the IRA that I've scrimped and saved and done without for the last 30 years get flushed down the toilet. It's worth less than 1/2 it was just 6 months ago. At this point, there is nothing left to do but tie a knot in the rope and hold on with both hands. There's no use locking in those losses. Right now, they are paper losses. Hopefully, the bottom feeders will come out soon and start buying those intrinsically valuable stocks for pennies on the dollar. It doesn't bother me if the bottom feeders get richer, I just want them to buy stocks and drive my IRA somewhere near black again. It's really hard to watch everything you have scrimped and saved for, all the things you have done without for just be wiped out because of a corrupt political system in bed with corrupt high rollers.

There's nothing to do but hold on with both hands and keep working. Tuesday, I drive way down south to testify Wednesday in a major trial. Thursday, I drive way up north so I can evaluate a guy on Friday. Meanwhile, I have 6 months worth of non-reimbursed travel expenses. Eventually, they'll pay us. But, the truth is the state has not been honoring their contract to pay my company for past work (in addition to past expenses) so my company has been having to eat payroll for about three months. Don't know how long any small business can keep that up before they go under.

Meanwhile, we're about to elect another VP who abuses the power of her office to accomplish her personal vendettas. Not to mention that she is dedicated to wiping out the infant wildlife of Alaska and slaughter all the adult wildlife so they can't reproduce. I guess only she and hers get to reproduce. I guess it's her embracing her own "culture of life" which extends to her progeny and their offspring. Meanwhile, she's whipping her right wing idealogues into a murderous frenzy and directed it towards her opponents. I genuinely fear for my own life if that woman is elected. I also fear for my own personal freedom of speech and fully expect to have the privacy of my U.S. Mail violated and my internet activity hacked.

Not only do we need to make sure the woman is NOT ELECTED, we need to make sure the woman is impeached once she returns to Alaska. A bipartisan commission of 8 Republicans and 4 Democrats found that she abused her power as Governor. Abuse of Power is a violation of the ethical standards required of the Governor and is an impeachable offense. The only way to stop that woman from slaughtering wildlife at will is to impeach her and hopefully put her in prison for crimes against life.

KEATING VIDEO

There are times when all of us must simply love our country above and beyond all else. Men and woman make the ultimate sacrifice for this country.

Please love your country today. Watch the video at:

http://my.barackobama.com/keatingvideo

Do this for your country today. And then, cast the most important vote you'll ever cast in your life this coming November.

Marty

VISCIOUS PALIN

I am Christian. As a Christian, I learned that we have responsibility to all living things across gender, race, religion, disability, sexual orientation, nationality, species, etc. I learned and I will always believe, that if a person persecutes one group then they will also persecute other groups that are "different" from them.

Palin presents herself as embracing a "culture of life". What culture of life was she embracing the June morning when her hired guns pulled 14 sleeping baby wolves from their den and put a bullet through each and every tiny head. Her hired guns were Alaskan state employees paid with tax money. Other Alaskan state employees had already that morning run the pups' mother and her entire pack to exhaustion in state-chartered helicopters and then shot them with bullets (purchased with state tax money). They were allowed to die in the frigid cold of the snow---writhing in pain and chewing at their backs were the bullets entered their bodies.

So far, 800 wolves have been shot from state chartered helicopters by Alaskan state employees this year. Another 2,000 have been killed by other methods. That's the reported deaths. Palin tried to put a $150 bounty on each foreleg of a dead wolf. Thankfully, her wolf bounty was ruled illegal by the courts. The Friends of Animals, Alaska Wildlife Alliance and Defenders of Wildlife worked very hard to stop the $150 bounty. Unfortunately to date nothing has been able to stop the aerial hunting or the "denning" (pulling of infant wolves from their dens and shooting them through the head).

This behavior does not represent a "culture of life". This woman is cruel, viscious and represents savagery at his height. Do you want a Vice President with this level of savagery? If McCain/Palin are elected, this woman would in all probability become President. Do you want a President with this level of savagery? Aren't we fighting a war to get rid of a dictator who ran her a good race for savagery?

If you want to help, the first thing you need to do is
1) Vote against McCain/Palin. Without a doubt, that is the most important vote you will ever cast in your life.
2) Contact and join Friends of Animals, Alaska Wildlife Alliance, and Defenders of Wildlife. They need donations. They need you to sign petitions. They need you to write to Congress. They need you to write to the media.
3) The national media is not covering the slaughter of wolves and polar bears led by Palin. I suspect they are afraid of being accused of partisanship. If this story is to be covered by the media, we the people are going to have to force them to cover it. WRITE AND CALL THE MEDIA!!!! DEMAND THAT THEY COVER THE CRUELTY AND SAVAGERY OF THIS WOMAN!!!
4) We need to find ways to send her back to Alaska and REMOVE her from power. Ideally, she'll be tried and put in prison where she belongs.

SPEAK TRUTH TO POWER

Go to http://www.grizzlybay.org/HelpSpreadTruth.htm

I'm 62 today, and grieving baby wolves

Big day! I've made it to 62. I've been away for a time because I've been dealing with work and medical tests.



I'm pleased to announce that I don't have to have surgery now. I have to be inserted into that dreadful coffin tube with noises that sound like jackhammers and machine guns while radioactive dye is dripped into my arteries every three months until it's time for surgery. But, today I am alive and I don't have to have surgery right now. The medical profession calls that coffin tube an MRA. Hate it, hate it, hate it!!!!



Eric and I have a new grand nephew. Jenny and Ryan's son (Kaden) was born October 1, 2008. Beautiful baby boy!



The privacy fence is up and sealed with wood preservative and the new furnace, AC, air cleaner and humidifier is in. It's too hot to use it, but winter will come and we'll be warm. The system was Eric's birthday present from me. Yes, I know it wasn't romantic or sentimental. But, we've been together a long time. He'll appreciate it this winter.

On my 62nd birthday while I'm thanking God that he has allowed me to live this long, I grieve the slaughter of baby wolves at the behest of our Republican VP candidate. The cubs were 4 weeks old. They were sleeping peacefully in their den. Unfortunately, the mother had made the grave mistake of giving birth to them on state owned land. So, Sarah Palin and the great white hunters (Alaskan state employees) she helicoptered into their habitat pulled them one by one from their natal den and put a bullet into their brain. Their mother was slaughtered by the same state employees by bullets from a low flying helicopter. She pays $150 for each forepaw of a dead wolf.

Do we really want a woman capable of such savagery as Vice President of the United States? If you want to help the fight for the survival of American wolves, please visit Humane Society of the United States and learn what you can do. Clearly, the most important thing you will ever do in your life is vote against McCain/Palin. There won't be a wolf or polar bear left alive anywhere if McCain/Palin is elected. Vote against McCain/Palin. Save the world!!!!

SONOGRAM RESULTS

While I was in trial this morning, the doctor called and left a message to call him. I did. He got the results of my doppler sonogram and said that both my carotid arteries are significantly blocked. He said that this is not an emergency and he doesn't think I need emergency surgery--like tomorrow. He did, however, want me to contact a specific cardiovascular surgeon. So, I'm trying. Not having a lot of luck getting through, but I'll keep trying.

SONOGRAM

Tomorrow morning I'm scheduled to have a sonogram of my carotid arteries. My doctor believes there is some sort of build up of plaque (or something) and is concerned that I may be vulnerable to a stroke. He's especially concerned because my blood pressure gets a bit on the high side at times. In truth, I've had serious problems in the past with very significantly elevated blood pressure. He hears something called bruits in both arteries. I've had this procedure done previously because two other doctors heard these bruits. Last time, I had it done the sonogram came back non-problematic.

So, here we go again.

They have a rather disgusting sounding procedure they do if the sonogram shows anything serious. It's a lot like a plumber does when your pipes get stopped up or when tree roots get in your sewer line.

FEELING LIKE A SQUIRREL

I'll be gone most of the week.

Headed way up north today for a trial tomorrow. Return tomorrow evening quite late. Tuesday, I get up very early to take dogs to VET for rabies shots, do court prep for a trial on Tbhursday and let the garage door fixer people in---the garage door won't open. A huge spring broke. Wednesday, I have the sonogram on the arteries in my neck. Thursday, I have another trial.

Thankfully, the parole board relented and changed their minds about letting a guy out of prison who was serving 300 years (this time) for murder and raping a young woman after she was dead. Finally, they listened to reason that this man was not a first time offender, but had been convicted of murder in four other states, a couple of kidnappings, a least one other rape, and a multitude of less heinous crimes. So, at least I don't have to meet with him in a room alone and evaluate him. Until a multitude of objections were registered, they were actually going to let him out.

Yesterday, the tiller man came and installed the drainage pipe I wanted installed. I wanted it to drain water away from the front of the house and towards a tree. He suggested that the addition of about a ton of dirt graded so that it slopes away front the house would also be helpful. So Tuesday, I also need to make arrangements for a ton of dirt to be delivered. Once delivered, I'll need to spread it so that it has the correct grade.

The Rose of Sharons I planted a little over a week ago are blooming to beat the band. The new fence provides a wonderful backdrop for their delicate blossoms. So far the dogs have sniffed them, but carefully avoided stepping on anything. Yesterday, I bought a 100 each of daffodils and mixed tulips and will need to get them planted within the week.

Early next week, I'm contacting the furnace man to have to furnace replaced before winter. It's Eric's birthday present--not very romantic or sentimental--but he is a major problem in terms of birthday and Christmas presents. This present will, at least, save him from spending a couple of grand. Yesterday, talked him into going and getting the materials to replace the weatherstripping and the "sweep" on the French doors. Hopefully, that will be completed this next week.

I'm beginning to feel like a squirrel preparing for the long winter and early spring.

Palin

Recently, someone I know and love commented to me that he read that Steinem "dissed" Palin. Not having read anything by Steinem in many years (or even heard her named mentioned in as many years), I replied that I did not know about it.

Personally, I was utterly appalled when Palin was put on any ticket anywhere--much less on the ticket a heartbeat from the Presidency. I understand exactly why the party did it. They needed to rouse the far right wing conservative base and religious zealots so they put a far right wing conservative, religious zealot on the ticket--however unqualified. And, they succeeded in rousing the far right wing conservatives and religious zealots.

What puzzles me is how an intelligent man can even, for a moment, believe that intelligent women (who might want a woman to eventually become the President or Vice President) would be willing to settle for any woman--as long as she's a woman. He said to me that he thought women would have been proud that finally a woman was on the ticket. Palin rejects reproductive rights and stem cell research. She supports abstinence-only programs. Palin wants Creationism taught in schools. She would completely destroy the environment and all endangered species with her focus on drilling for oil. She's been the mayor of a town of about 8,000 people and left it seriously in debt when she became governor.

She knows nothing of foreign affairs or foreign policy. And, this is my overwhelming concern. This scares me half to death! She'll be a heartbeat from the Presidency and the President will be a 72 year old man who has had repeated bouts with a highly lethal form of skin cancer. Sadly, if the Republican ticket is elected in all likelihood she'll become President.

I have always respected Senator McCain. I believe he once loved this country. He remains a true hero for his life of service. But, with this decision, he decided to put his desire to be President above his love of this country. Why else would he risk "willing" this country to Palin's unqualified hands. He didn't sell his country out as a young man, but he sold America out in his pursuit of the Presidency.

Now, I understand that the far right wing conservative and religious zealots will vote for the ticket because she's on it, but it is my greatest hope that intelligent people will see through this political gamesmanship and be able to recognize and reject the pandering to right-wing idealogues.

FALL HAS ARRIVED

Either Fall has arrived or remnants of Gustav has arrived. I've been complaining about the heat all summer. It's pouring down rain and it's a very cold rain!

I took Dakota in for chemo this morning and we were both soaked to the skin--literally drenched. Holly, Jake and Savannah Jo are refusing to leave their beds. Well, they did walk to the French doors, observe Dakota getting drenched and trotted back to their beds and their blankets. It was Thanks, but No thanks.

The rain is incredibly cold, we have some wind and the rain stings my skin as it hits me. Feels like little not quite yet ice slivers. I dearly love this kind of whether and the beginning of fall. Given that we live in St. Louis, the weather will probably turn and bake us for several more weeks so I need to enjoy this while it lasts.

FUNCTIONING WHEN AFRAID

I have a friend and colleague (a young attorney) who volunteered to leave the wife he loves and the four sons he loves beyond all measure to go to the Middle East. We all hate war. My friend hates war. He'd already served his active duty status and did not have to volunteer. But, he got his law degree on the GI Bill and believed that he owed the country something.

So, he headed out (to do prosecutions for the US Government). He's a very good prosecutor and a smart man. He knew that Iraq was a dangerous place and he was a tad anxious.

I heard from him. One and one half weeks ago, he was still alive. I thank God because I care for him deeply as a person and respect the work he does here stateside enormously. I've been fortunate enough to get to work with him in court a couple of times. He does very very good work. We miss him and we need him at home.

Part of his job involves visiting prisons set up by the Iraqi government and the US Government to interview men and women who have been engaged in behaviors harmful to the war effort and to Iraqi civilians. We had spoken previously about the danger of those bombs buried in the roads--they are home made bombs jerry rigged together of ticky tack. But, they are very effective jerry rigged ticky tack.

A couple of weeks ago, two cars driven by American enlisted military men, several attorneys and two other enlisted men were headed out to a prison to do interviews. It was only about 8 blocks from their offices. Things started out OK. Then, the front tire of the front car bumped one of those bombs and it blew up. The driver of the second car (the one my friend was in) lost control of the car and it turned on it's side. Everybody in the front car survived. People were hurt, but it looks like they are all going to live. Some of them will have very painful recoveries due to the fire. People in the second car were hurt but did not sustain burns. They had broken bones, scraps, contusions, concussions, etc. They are going to live. The man in my friend's car who was carrying the "big gun" got hurt badly enough that he could not defend himself or the men he was supposed to keep safe. My friend was able to shake himself back to reason to begin to get upright and help get his colleagues out of the car.

People on the sidelines were throwing objects at the burning car and the wrecked car. In that fog of war and the fog of a car accident, my friend could not tell which of the objects being thrown were going to explode and which were going to make the fire worse. He was afraid to get out of the car or to help his colleagues out of the car because they faced being hurt worse. He was afraid to stay in the car because he feared that one of the objects being hurled at them would cause the car to explode and/or catch fire. He took the "big gun" from his hurt colleague and started to attempt to defend himself and his colleagues. The problem is that some times those objects people throw do explode or make fires worse. At this point, I don't know if the real problem is that people throw potentially explosive objects at a wrecked car or that we are there. Certainly, both sides are argued vehemently and continually.

Except during military service and military training, my friend has never shot a gun in his life--much less shot at a human being. He was afraid and he was confused. It's the fog of war! When people are trying to kill you and your colleagues, you fight back--even when you have just been in a car accident, even when you are disoriented and confused, even when your brain has been slammed around against your skull, even when you are afraid.

The men and women in both cars are alive. My friend got in a little trouble because he shot before he could identify whether the objects being thrown were going to explode or make the fire worse. It's hard, under those circumstances, to identify jerry rigged explosive devices. Basically, he got "written up" and fussed with. Nothing really serious is going to happen to him legally.

To me, the only thing that matters is all the Americans in those two cars are alive and will recover from their physical injuries. My friend was afraid! He probably still is. He wears his helmet and his jacket all the time--even in buildings. They are very hot, heavy and uncomfortable. Some of the guys don't wear them all the time. But, my friend is afraid and hopes that his helmet and jacket will provide him some protection.

Today, all I care about is that my friend is alive. I'm thankful for him and the men and women he was with that he was able to function when he was afraid. I don't care if he gets a medal or is written up. I want him to come home alive--preferably with all his parts still in working order.

I hate war. We all hate war.

FINALLY DONE

The privacy fence will be completed today. Finally!!!! I've been dealing with this fence for well over a month--getting bids, getting the permit, etc. Then, the night the posts went in and the workmen had left so the concrete could set up for a full 24 hours--I started getting faxes from one of the neighbors. She thought we were on her land.

Now, I had gone out of my way to have the city approve the permit for the posts to be set a full 6 inches inside our property line because I knew in my heart of hearts that we'd have trouble with these neighbors. The faxes flew back and forth--right when I was desperately trying to finish a very difficult court report for the Attorney General. Her complaints and the continuing faxes were coming at the very worst time. I was desperately trying to finish a terribly difficult court report and needed to work. Nevertheless, I stopped what I was doing and contacted the fence man. The neighbor faxed her "plot plan". I faxed ours. The fence man assured me that he measured multiple times and followed the city permit and the plot plan exactly. He swore we were a full six inches inside our property line. In this neighborhood, you have to deal with the nosy, bossy, inquisitive neighbors no matter what else is going on in your life or how much work you may have weighing on you in the constant and continuing effort to make a living.

Finally, I got an email from the lady that her family had gone out and measured and that indeed I was correct and she agreed to allow us to have the fence finished. Poor Eric was out taking pictures of the contested area and a tape measure. It was truly absurd and not as if the man had not worked all day. Then, he had to come home and deal with the neighbors complaints about something I wanted done on his land. I had been very very careful because I know what the neighbors in this subdivision are like. The problem was that the neighbors had built (some years ago) a very big and very expensive sauna/spa building much too close to the property line and then planted really big bushes around it. They were concerned about the new fence interfering with their ability to mow easily. The truth is that they need to trim those overgrown bushes even though they are incredibly beautiful bushes.

The poor fence man agreed to re-measure everything today to be absolutely sure that he had not made an error. He told me that these kind of conflicts erupt once out of every four fences he puts up--especially in an urban error. Land is much more expensive in urban areas and people always think they own a few inches of the neighbors land.

Meanwhile, I've arranged for a new gentleman to do some tilling so that I can put in flower beds. I've already got a few of the plants in, but I had to be careful to only put the ones in that would not be in the way of the fence installers. This new gentleman is also going to take care of the lawn care starting in the spring. Finally, I'll be able to terminate our relationship with the old lawn care company--they do a terrible job. I've been dissatisfied with their work for years!

Gradually, over time, and with a lot of work--I'll be able to have the back yard at least look a bit more like a "garden"--a sturdy, tough garden with indigenous plants--but a somewhat more pleasant place to use in privacy. This is something I've wanted for many years. The work is backbreaking in the Missouri clay, but I've been trying to pace myself and work in the earliest of morning hours and the latest of evening hours when it is a bit cooler.

FELLING OF TREES

We have four volunteer trees of some sort that volunteered right on the fence line for the new fence. They had to come out before the fence can go in. Eric and I spent many hours last night removing part of two trees. Eric did most of the work. There are two skinny trees left that I'm going to try to remove today. Also, I'm attempting to chop all the limbs from the larger trees that Eric took down last night into manageable pieces for the "tree truck" to remove. The "tree truck" comes around once a week and picks up lawn debris that residents have placed by the street.

Even cutting the pieces into small manageable pieces is hot hard work. Eric did a lot of hot hard work last night getting most of the bigger trees down.

I hated taking the trees down. Seems like they could have volunteered somewhere other than the fence line. I'm planning to plant new trees once the fence is in---not in the fence line. I already miss the old trees. They provided nice shade and cool spots. I hated killing them.

The fence man stopped by this morning to get the permit and his downpayment. He's going to start putting the fence up on the 28th and 29th. Given that Dakota flew over the 5 foot tall chain link fence last night in pursuit of a rabbit (which she did not catch thankfully), I hope a six foot privacy fence that inhibits her sight of rabbits controls her at least a little. She's never done it in the past, but now I'm afraid to let her in the back yard. A flying dog is a bit more than I'd planned on in my lifetime.

I purchased six Holly plants to plant along the very back fence. Hopefully, they'll help deaden sound from the middle school---at least a little. The "tiller man" is coming today at 3 pm to do some really heavy tilling in this Missouri clay. Then, I'll use our smaller tiller after he completes the heavy tilling. Our tiller really pulverizes chunks of heavy clay and permits amending the soil with manure and such.

I don't think Eric "sees" the backyard in his mind the way I do. He doesn't enjoy being outside in the yard, but I do. He enjoyed the very hot hard work of taking the trees down about as much as I'm enjoying chopping the debris into small pieces for the "tree truck". Hot, sweaty hard work. Oh well, has to be done. No way around it. Break over--back to the mess.

STATISTICS

Yesterday, I had a stack of assessments ready to staff with Barry. It took all day--literally.

I can go for months without a "referral"--meaning that I do the evaluation and decide not to refer for commitment. I've got the best statistics of the four of us. This is important because it means when I actually refer someone and am sitting in the witness stand, I can truthfully testify that I refer less than 2% for commitment. Ninty-eight percent of these guys, I send home. Only 2% get referred for commitment. This means I only refer the "worst of the worst" which is what we are supposed to be doing. This goes over well with juries.

Last week, while Eric was in Kansas I referred someone. I spent the weekend writing his report and will do Probable Cause on him before the end of August.

Yesterday, we staffed this stack of assessments I'd done and three of them "went bad" meaning they are referrals. One of them was a rapist who also engages in sodomy--multiples times. Then you need to add on the 1st degree murder he did. First degree murder always makes things worse. Then, there was the parole violator sending nude videos of himself engaging in autoerotic activities in front of a web cam to eight teenage girls in 8 different states. He'd already had a contact offense and been caught previously (and gone to prison) for his autoerotic activies with a web cam. Then, there was the guy who claimed to be an "in the closet" homosexual and chooses little boys (4 times) to avoid being rejected by other adult homosexuals.

Each of these cases will require reports that take no less than 16 hours to write, probable cause hearings, trials, and hours of court prep. None of that is a big deal. That's just work. I get paid to do work.

My first thought was 'my stats are going to be ruined'. Barry pointed out that I have the bests stats of the four of us and one bad stretch won't ruin two years of stats. If I think logically, I know Barry is right. Truth is, that I'll probably pull a four or six month stretch when I refer nobody. And, the stats will be OK in the long run. Not thinking logically, I'm going to do an evaluation tomorrow where the guy raped 4 different women (meaning four different cases and four different sentencing dates), all strangers and all in public places. All those components drive his scores up. I suspect, I'll need to refer him also. And, then there is another guy on Monday who is a parole violator. Unfortunately, while on parole he actually arranged in person meets with little girls (for sexual purposes) and with a couple of cops. The cops were not amused! Neither was the parole board. Fortunately, the little girls got away when they realized what they had walked into. But, his scores went up. He also got in trouble the last time I evaluated him when he showed up for the interview wearing no underwear. I did not discover this. The Correctional Officer discovered this during the body search. The inmate didn't do anything to me, but I'm sure the CO probably wrote him up. All that sends his scores up.

I'll settle myself down and just get the work done. We're just going through a bad stetch. The work load is really heavy on all four of us right now and we're all getting assignments of guys who are doing unacceptable bad things repeatedly and guys violating parole. In the long run, the stats will settle down and things will be OK.

MOSCOW RULES

While Eric was at the wedding, I bought Daniel Silva's new book--Moscow Rules. He's a really good writer and it's a splendid summertime back yard read. I admit I thought he was being a little tough on the Russians. After all, the cold war is supposed to be over--dead and buried.

Then, Russia invaded Georgia with tanks and bombed their cities to smithers. Georgia is about the size of South Carolina with a population the size of Alabama. The entire action is as absurd as the United States invading South Carolina and South Carolina calling out it's National Guard to defend itself. Georgia has no hope of defending itself and unfortunately there does not seem to be a thing any of the more civilized governments can do about it.

But, I think Russia's behavior speaks to its character. Old dogs don't learn new tricks. Leopards don't change their spots. We need to keep our friends close and our enemies even closer. Moscow Rules is a cautionary tale, but Russia's behavior speaks loud and clear to its desire and plans to return to the olden days. It's behavior is clearly a cautionary tale written brutally with tanks and bombs and death.

MISSING THE WEDDING

Eric left for Wichita at 6:40 this morning. He's attending the wedding of the youngest of the "girls" in the family. First, Lori married, then Jen, and now Amanda. We have two boys left to engage in nuptials, but they are still quite young. There's no telling when Jonathan and Daniel will decide to settle down to married life. They've got plenty of time. They're still barely more than teenagers.

I ran about trying to make sure he didn't forget anything. Ruthie has promised to make sure he does not show up at the wedding wearing his shorts and white sneakers with no socks. The gifts were neatly tucked into his new truck before he left and to the best of my knowledge he had everything he was supposed to take. Jen's expecting a little boy in September so there are gifts for the expected newcomer and one really nice gift for the bridal couple.

I'm at home providing dog chemo care. This is the first of the family gatherings I've had to miss since we started living together---nearly ten years ago. I'm saddened that I don't get to go because I always enjoy spending time with his extended family so much.

My extended family consists of my sister, her son, his son, her partner of 30 years (Dana), my former husband, Diane, and Becky (her daughter) by her former husband. And, of course, I have Dean (my son), Cassie and my two grandsons. Family is in short supply on my side of this couple. But, Eric has a multitude of family all over the United States so it is especially wonderful to be accepted and included by them. I didn't choose him because he had a big family, but it sure is nice that he has family and that they have been willing to include me. There are families that exclude one partner's family. Fortunately, Eric's family has chosen to include me. I'm deeply grateful to them for that inclusion.

I am glad he got to attend the wedding. He dearly loves all his siblings and all their children. I hope everybody has a lot of fun, takes lots of pictures and emails me lots of pictures. Ruthie promised she would. I suspect Maggie will also. Ann sent me the sweetest email expressing her understanding of why I need to skip the wedding and provide chemo care.

Meanwhile, I've poured hydrachloric acid over the driveway and scrubbed it in an attempt to remove rust spots. About a year ago, a workman was building us two retaining walls in the back yard and his radiator sort of exploded. Truth is that Eric did not care much about the rust spots, but they were driving our next door neighbor crazy. I got most of the spots off, but it took several hours and lots of scrubbing. I think I'm going to have to go buy another jug of the stuff Eric bought. Eric recognizes that he "should" have cared about the rust spots, but was not all that upset by them. However, those rust spots were making Gerald crazy.

Dakota appears to be doing well this morning for a dog enduring chemo. She's had her fourth chemo session and now drops from weekly sessions to every other week for the next four sessions.

I've also staffed a case with Barry this morning. He had a long, grueling court session yesterday. It was a long drive, then the county only has one judge, another trial was going on and they had to wait several hours for the judge to get some free time. Meanwhile, the inmate got frightened and upset by the long wait--he thought something was wrong.

What usually happens in these cases--when there is another trial going on--is that the judge eventually gives all the participants in the ongoing trial a recess for lunch/bathroom break/dinner or something like that and then the judge hears the probable cause case. I suspect most people don't realize how hard judges work. Basically, everybody else gets lunch/bathroom break/dinner or something and he keeps working. Probable cause hearings normally only take about an hour unless they are ones I'm testifying in. I've had probable cause hearings last 5 hours with me testifying the entire time. Draining! Anyway, Barry's case took so long yesterday that he decided not to attempt to drive back to Chicago last night and was driving this morning.

We staffed one of my cases and decided to refer him. It's a guy who repeatedly has sex with teenage girls, but does not consider himself a child molester. Children (to him) are humans 10 years old and younger. As far as he is concerned 13 and 14 year old girls are fair game. So, I need to get the report written this weekend. That will take 16 hours straight. It's a good thing I didn't go to Wichita.

I also need to make my weekly run to Sam's. Eric told me to pick up two inexpensive items on Thursday. Neither of us wrote it down on Thursday. This morning neither of us could remember what he told me to pick up. Old age is not creeping, it's coming with the speed of a runaway frieght train.

I also need to talk with the neighbor's son (Bob) about an offer he made in terms of the privacy fence. Bob is a very sucessful realtor--REALLY SUCCESSFUL--and he provided the referral for the man who did our porcelain tile floors. He literally knows the best contractors and subcontractors. We already have a good, reasonable bid from a local fencing contractor (whose work I've seen), but we also need some concrete work done to keep the dogs from digging out. They are such diggers. They don't really want to leave, they just like to dig. They dug a hole so big in the middle of the back yard, that poor blind Jake fell in the other day and couldn't get out. I removed Jake from the hole and filled it in. I just repair the holes they dig in the middle of the yard, but I want some concrete around the edge of the yard so they don't accidentally get out. The slope of our land also requires a concrete ramp by one of the gates. It will serve two purposes. it will make it easier to get the garden cart from the back yard to the front when we need to and it will keep the dogs from digging under the gate. They are really determined diggers and Jake is so blind that if he got out, he'd trot right into the street. The other night, I was out cutting down wild honeysuckle and Jake was running about. He trotted right into tree trunks because he basically only sees shadows at this stage of his life. Invariably, he pretends he intended to run into the tree. To him, it's important to pretend he has control even if most of his ability to control events has escaped him.

CONTINUING SAGA

It's the privacy fence again. Eric and I went to Deck and Fence Company on Saturday to get a bid on a privacy fence. We have a very small amount of area to be fenced. One side of the yard needs 60 feet of fencing. The other side of the yard needs about 85 feet of fencing. And, we need 4 gates to construct 2 eight foot gates so the lawncare people can get their mowers in. There is already chain link fencing around the back yard. The chain link divides the yard so that 60 feet of it is yard and about 25 feet of it is a section at the very back that our neighbor uses for vegetables.

That 25 feet was originally left open because of the school behind our house. It's a huge middle school and directly behind our house is a gigantic soceer field--we are talking acres. The school uses it for athletic events and what they refer to as band practice. The kids had this habit of climbing over the school fence and cutting through our yard as a short cut to their houses. We didn't want problems with those children. For the most part, they aren't criminal--just unpleasant, destructive and noisy.

Basically, they had torn the old school fence into tatters and we knew they would tear our chain link fence into tatters (not to mention how much they would torment our poor dogs) so we fenced the yard so they would have 25 feet for their cutting through behaviors. I don't know why their parents don't take responsibility for them and utilize appropriate discipline.

One of them recently put a dead opposum in the mailbox of one of our neighbors (after the mail rain on Saturday) and by Monday the poor man was out installing a new mailbox. A dead oppossum cooking in St. Louis heat for two days required a new mailbox--not to mention the police and animal control to remove the body. It is my dearest hope that the poor oppossum was already dead before it went into the mailbox. I am refusing the allow myself to think about the level of suffering that poor animal experienced if that brat put it in there alive and allowed the sun to slowly kill it over the course of two days.

Anyway, a few years after we allowed them 25 feet of space, the school put up a new fence about 15 feet high. So, now there is the 15 foot high fence and lots of trees separating our back yard from the soccer field. The trees help deaden the cacaphony somewhat although a soundproof bubble over the entire yard would be nice. We can still hear the kids, but for the most part we can't see them. Apparently, the school put the fear of God in them. It speaks sadly to the state of parenthood that the school had to do it instead of the parents. The kids stopped climbing the fence and started walking to and from school the long way--on sidewalks like normal people.

That left us with 25 feet of never used space. The neighbor (who we like very much) asked if he could use that space of about 25 by 80 feet for vegetables and we said yes. We plan to leave the chain link fence on the back because I have little to no interest in privacy from the vegetable garden or the soceer field. I can easily plant Holly along the inside of that back fence to provide some privacy from the vegetables and further deaden the sound of "band practice". The privacy I want has to do with the sides of the yard.

The bid we got yesterday for basically 140 feet of fencing and 2 wide gates (including installation) was about $12,000.00 before tax. So, I decided to get other bids. Now, admittedly it was for a 6 foot high vinyl fence that allegedly is maintenance free. It's a really nice fence!!!! But, I decided to get another bid anyway. It may end up that I have to spend $12,000. for the fence, but I thought I'd get some other bids. I want a nice looking fence. The house is Eric's and it's a nice house.

There's a privacy fence 6 or 8 blocks from here that I've been admiring since it was installed. So, I stopped by and rang the bell to find out where they got it. The house belongs to a local cop who works night shift. I woke him. I didn't know it was a cop who works night shift. He was very nice in spite of the fact that I woke him. He provided the fencing company. Then, after I left him, I stopped at another house with a relatively new privacy fence and lo and behold, the same company installed it. I had admired it also. It's a local company.

The law allowing privacy fences only came into being about 6 or 8 months ago and so far few people in our city have them. Previously, all that had been permitted were chain link fences. Basically, it appears that this process is going to take much longer than I had hoped. Before the work can be done, I have to submit 2 drawings, pictures, a price quote and Lord knows what else to the city council. Then, they have to approve or disapprove it. This means waiting at least another month for the city council to meet. Then, if they approve it, I can have the work done. Then, it will have to be inspected by the city inspector.

I had hoped to have the privacy fence installed by the end of this week. All I had wanted was the ability to sit in the back yard and read a book without every neighbor watching me. Looks like it is going to take a lot of time and effort to accomplish such a simple goal. But, we forge ahead. I've always had this naive belief that Americans had a right to privacy. I guess, like happiness, we have the right to pursue privacy.

PAROLE VIOLATIONS

While I was in Texas, I communicated with Catherine and she told me she had seven cases for me upon my return. The boxes of data were waiting when I got home. I was pleased to see the boxes because it's always nice to have work.

As I went through the information, I was surprised to see that none of them were new cases. They were all parole violators. Thankfully, only one was someone I had let out on parole. All the rest were cases other professionals had let out on parole. Then, I got an eighth case a few days later and it was another one I'd let out on parole.

The interesting thing was that none of these men met statutory criteria when they were evaluated previously. And, they all committed the same parole violation. When sex offenders are on parole they have an automatic restriction about internet access. All of these men, violated their parole by performing autoerotic activities in the nude in front on a web cam and then sending those videos by cell phone to underage females. When parents complained to different police agencies scattered hither and yon, the parolees then sent the same autoerotic images to a variety of policemen posing as underage females. These female children and complaining parents were in a variety of states as far away as Florida and Texas. Some of the police were in states as far away as Florida and Texas.

I'm so technologically illiterate and computer illiterate, I didn't even know that one could send video by cell phone that had been made in front of a web cam. Truth is that although my phone takes pictures, I can't take good pictures and can't figure out how to get the pictures into my computer. I also can't figure out text messaging. I'm not sure if my phone takes video. When Ann was so sick and in the hospital, her oldest daughter would sometimes text me. I always had to have Eric figure out how to get to the "text message" and read it to me. I just use my phone primarily for business purposes and I only talk to people like Catherine, my boss, parole officers, assistant attorney generals, etc. Sex offenders must be a lot smarter than me in terms of technological skill.

Of course, I question the intellect of anyone who would engage in such behavior with underage children much less with policemen posing as underage children. When this behavior is discussed with them they always say the same thing. They say "I didn't know it was a cop" and report they would not have engaged in the behavior if they knew it was a cop. No, they would have just engaged in the behavior with underage children.

These parole violations potentially edge them closer to meeting statutory criteria. First, they can't or don't cooperate with supervision (parole). Second, they violate the rules of parole. Third, clearly they are back in their "offending cycle" even though they have not actually put their hands on any child yet. It is interesting to note that many of these men were attempting to set up "meets" with the young female children. In some cases, they did set up "meets" with indiviudals they believed to be young female children and were surprised that they had scheduled a "meet" with a big, middle aged, male, cop. Must have been disappointing. Some of the police I know are quite attractive, but others are less than attractive.

Some of these parole violators will still not meet statutory criteria simply because they did not put their hands on an underage child this time. What I am wondering is where are the Feds? This business of setting up "meets" with children as far away as Florida and Texas should violate some Federal law--at least I think it should. Florida and Texas parents were really complaining and complaining loudly! At any rate, there seems to be an increasing problem with predatory exhibitionism by cell phone.

PRIVACY FENCE

Got the application from the city for the privacy fence. First thing that had to be done was get permission from the people next door to remove their fence and have the privacy fence put up between their yard and ours. He agreed, but appeared as grief stricken as Eric.

This privacy fence will add value to their house as well as ours. I'm planning to have an attractive fence installed by professional fence installers. But, apparently both Eric and the neighbor feels it will potentially build a wall between them. I don't understand this because if I had my way, I'd live in a house with a 3 foot deep, 15 foot high stone wall all the way around the house and it would be electrified. I like the neighbors a lot, but I want to be able to get out in my back yard without everybody being able to see me. The only thing I've truly hated about living in this house was the now defunct law forbidding privacy fences.

So, I'm sad about his feelings. He and Eric are good friends and I support the friendship.

Drove all the way to Shawnee today. Long trip down in southern farm land. The land literally changes as one approaches the Shawnee National Forest (which is quite beautiful). I always feel as though I'm going home because it's down in the neck of the woods where I grew up and the land reminds me of home. It's heavily forested, with rolling hills (sometimes very high jagged hills) and there are lots of big rocks jutting out. Really lovely landscape. I love the verdant green and the mossy smell. I've never cared for exceeding flat landscapes.

It was a long trip. I needed to be out the door by 6:30 and had to drive 3 hours. Then, I did a four hour assessment and drove three hours home.

The guy doesn't consider himself a child molester. He considers himself a sex offender because he broke the law. But, he does not consider 13 and 14 year old girls children. He has a strange mind set and sort of reminds me of those FLDS guys who marry 13 and 14 year old girls. Fortunately, the law recognizes people 17 and under as children.

AAA

Went to Mt. Sterling to evaluate a multiple time rapist of adult women. Minor little addition was that he committed murder. Turned out to be one of the most pleasant inmates I've met. Murderers often are. It's very strange. One of the things an evaluator has to do is to see through the mask people wear and to the behavior that lies beneath the mask. Fortunately, over the years, I've become very good at seeing through the masks and roles people cloak themselves in. Masks and roles are meaningless covers, behavior matters.

Anyway, I eventually got home alive. I left Mt. Sterling at about 1 pm and should have been home by 5 pm. I drove back to Quincy and crossed the big bridge. Pulled into a BP to buy some gas station coffee. I pulled out of the gas station and didn't even make it to 35 MPH before the front passenger tire blew. Thankfully, I was going slow because the car jerked and ran off the road to the right. It was one of those busy interstates where cars and big 18 wheelers fly by at 70 plus miles an hour even though the speed limit is 60 MPH. For a long time, no one stopped so I called the police for help. This was after I tried for quite some time to get the lug nuts loose. They'd been put on by the tire place with one of those big air hammers. They wouldn't budge. I also called the police because I don't feel particularly comfortable with strangers along side the roadway. Finally, a lady with her two teenage sons stopped. They couldn't get the lug nuts loose either. The kids were scared half to death by the big trucks whizzing by at high speed. Finally, the lady had to leave because she had to do the weekly exchange of the boys with her ex-husband. The police called about 12 times because they couldn't find me. Thank God for cell phones and 911. About 20 minutes later, an older gentleman and his adult son (driving an 18 wheeler) stopped. They managed to loosen the lug nuts. The police arrived.

Older trucker mentioned that all four tires looked relatively new and in very good shape with lots of tread and even wear. As he got the tire off, he called the officer over and mentioned that this was a peculiar puncture. Officer went to exame the tire and asked me where I drive it and park it. I told him I park it in my driveway, at prisons and in nice hotel parking lots and that I drive on good roads. Truth is that I actively avoid situations were there is construction or accident debris. The tires on this car cost a small fortune. His response was "Well either this was a badly defective new tire when you bought it or somebody wants rid of you" I told him that multiple people want rid of me, but that I had not had a direct threat for nearly 2 years. He showed me the place where the tire blew. It looked like an exit wound from a bullet. But, there was no entrance wound.

So, I went to the closest tire store (which took a while because I had to drive 35 MPH on the donut). The closest tire store was a WalMart. Remember, I was out in the boondocks. It took them more than four hours to get the tire needed for the Spyder and they had to have it trucked in from St. Louis. But, they eventually got a tire, replaced my donut and I got home at 9:30 pm.

Today, I purchased AAA. I hated having to call 911 for help and to depend on the kindness of strangers. Cops have other things to do. Pleasant cop, pleasant trucker, pleasant lady, unpleasant day.

FINALLY HOME

I spent the last week in Fort Worth. I'm home finally. The airports were not bad at all. My bag arrived with the plane both in Ft. Worth and St. Louis. It had been searched when I arrived in Ft. Worth and nothing at been replaced in any semblance of order. Wrinkles everywhere!!!

I'm very happy to be home to the quiet, peace and order. But, I did get to see my grandchildren and the dogs. The grandchildren are incredibly beautiful and the dogs are wonderful. I fell in love with the Corgi and the Jack Russel the first time I ever met them--years ago. And, of course, I love my son beyond all reason and measure. I'm incredibly proud of him! His wife is significantly improved medically and that is a good thing. Hopefully, she'll be able to return to work within the next few months. I did several loads of laundry and repeatedly picked up a lot of toys. There are so many toys it looks like a toy store. The box Eric shipped before I left finally arrived on Monday. I wish I could have been more helpful. I was willing to be a lot more helpful.

Home is very peaceful and I love its peace. Eric and I both love peace in her lives and quiet in our home. I went to City Hall and picked up an application for a privacy fence. The city recently changed the law and now we are permitted to have privacy fences. The only thing I did not like about living here was the lack of a privacy fence. I'm planning to have one put in this summer. I hate being on view to every neighbor every time I venture into the back yard. As a result, I don't work on the back yard much and never use it. Once the privacy fence is in, I hope to start working on the back yard and actually using it.

It will be good exercise and will give me something genuinely positive to do that will add to the value of the house.

TRAVELING

Tomorrow morning, I'm having Eric drop me at the airport before he heads to work. I'm flying to Dallas to see Dean, Cassie and hopefully provide a little help to my son. Eric shipped a "Grandma box" yesterday.

In the olden days, I loved to fly. I don't like flying anymore. But, I'm relatively good at it. I have Eric drop me off wearing little cloth slip-on bedroom slippers. That way I can avoid having to remove my shoes and walk around barefoot where the good Lord alone knows who has walked barefoot.

I'm taking only one bag. Normally, I take a bag that has all my grooming supplies in it and a bag with my clothes. Without doubt I'll have to do laundry before I can come home. I am optimistically (hoping) they don't lose my bag again. Usually, they lose my bag. Since they are now charging $15.00 to $25.00 extra for each bag, I'm only taking the one bag. I wonder if I can get the $15.00 or $25.00 back if they lose my bag again. The audacity of passengers to expect to take a change of clothing with them on a week long trip. I've stuffed all my medicines in my purse. Truth is that I would die (literally) without my meds and I can't trust them not to lose the suitcase. The few pieces of costume jewelry I'm taking will go in the purse also. I can't trust them not to steal the few pieces of costume jewelry.

I don't wear the jewelry to the airport. It sets the metal detectors off and then I'll be patted down. When possible, I prefer to avoid being frisked by strangers. Last time, I was required to remove my big sun hat and my sunglasses. I know, I look exactly like a terrorist. Overweight, middle-aged (closing in on elderly), freckled, peaches and cream, strawberry blonde/grey haired, green eyed woman who looks for all the world like an old Irish woman. Maybe they think I'm a representative of the IRA. I thought the IRA was now defunct.

Can any of you remember when we looked forward to flying. We dressed up. We could take a coffee or soda on board. We had legroom. We were served peanuts. Horror of horrors, we could smoke in flight. It used to be an occassion--the trip alone used to be a celebration. Now, the tension is so high it feels as though one is crossing Checkpoint Charlie illegally. For you young folks, Checkpoint Charlie is a checkpoint where lots of people crossed during the Cold War. It was featured in a lot of old movies and novels.

Now, every airplane flight is dreaded. Late departures, late arrivals, cancelled flights, no legroom and TSA officials who do their best to imitate the Gestapo or KGB.

But, grandmother's will endure most anything to see their grandchildren. So, I'm getting on that plane in spite of the degradation and humiliation. And, I will see Ephram Paul and Gideon Michael for a week. Hopefully, I'll be able to provide a little help to my son.

CHECKING

I have a symptom of a psychological disorder. Actually, I probably have several, but this one can be bothersome at times. Recently, my "checking" compulsion has kicked into high gear. This "checking" behavior has been a problem for years and years, but in recent years it had more or less calmed down. It decreased when I quit my last job and got my new job. My old job was a 24-7-365 experience of impending doom. "Checking" is one symptom of a specific anxiety disorder.



But, with Dakota fighting her second battle with cancer, Eric's sister (Ann) being in ICU for nearly a month in respiratory failure followed by respitatory distress, and now with Cassie having suffered a stroke---it's back. Now, the first thing I do in the morning when I wake is carefully check every living creature in the house to make sure they are still alive. Jake, our 16 year old dog, was quite surprised and somewhat annoyed when I woke him to make sure he was alive this morning. He was stretched out asleep on his bed and he had carefully swaddled himself in his king sized blanket. The look he gave me was "What's wrong with you--I'm sleeping in". Given what has been going on in our family, I'm having somewhat irrational fears of impending doom for those I love. Poor Eric cannot spend any length of time in the bathroom without being "checked".



This compulsion, while annoying, has not been debilitating in my life. Although, I will admit that I have more than once (actually, many many times) turned around and returned home after 40 miles of driving just to check to see if I had turned the iron off. I solved that problem by not ironing. I don't even know where the iron is. Dry cleaning bills increased, but gas expenditures decreased. Plus, I usually purchase clothing that never needs an iron as long as I take it out of the dryer immediately or before the cycle truly ends. I try always to leave early for appointments to build in time to turn around and come back if need be. Stopping ironing did not rid me of the "checking" behavior. Worry about the iron was replaced with worry about something else. There are rituals that go along with this disorder. For example, before I leave the house all the ashtrays must be placed in the sink. Normal people consider this behavior somewhat odd.



I am not plagued with full blown obsessive-compulsive disorder. I am not "Monk" or "Columbo" although I can probably be as annoying to other people. In many ways, the trait can be a strength given what I do for a living. I'm almost invariably early for work and court dates. I over prepare beyond anything that any relatively normal person can image for court dates. Recently, I met two Assistant Attorney Generals to do court prep for a trial and one of them asked me a question that he expected to be asked of me during trial. After about a 1/2 hour answer, he said "OK, just in the interest of time tonight let us go to the next question". It was clear to both of them that I was completely over prepared. One of them said to do exactly what I was doing on the stand because the jury had not heard this information previously and needed to hear it. The two lawyers had worked the case as long as I had and knew the details well. The purpose of court prep is to make sure the witness is prepared and ready to go. I doubt they have any idea of the endless hours I'd put in on that case before we ever got to court prep. I know my tendency to over prepare is profoundly irritating to the other side in court.



When I'm doing an assessment, preparing the investigative part, preparing for case consultation and I discover there is missing evidence--------I can be very annoying until I get that evidence. I've never understood the propensity of law enforcement to lose evidence-------not even in 30 year old cases. I was quite prepared to board a plane (at my own expense) to fly to Omaha and drag some poor old cop out of a nursing home because I couldn't understand what happened in a 30 year old case. The man was not tried for his part in the abduction and brutal gang rape of two teenage girls. I was quite prepared to go find out why all those charges were dropped. There was more than enough evidence to convict the man. Fortunately, my boss intervened and the Attorney General sent one of their investigators to get the information. Sometimes, I have to trust other people and that is very hard.

Sometimes, it is not just that 30 year old evidence disappears. At times, records are lost, old cops die, victims are lost to time and the mobility of American culture. I don't deal well with "No" when those things happen. And, I am quite sure that the investigators for the Attorney General collectively groan when they find out I've been assigned a case. I can be a persistant, determined, tenacious woman. Some people call it pushy.

It's not just an issue of "winning" although "winning" is nice. It's an issue of somebody, somewhere has got to speak for those victims.

White Power

I went to the Gothic prison Monday to interview an inmate. I was dreading it and mentioned to Eric that I'd see this guy in cuffs or I wouldn't see him.

His records reveal that he's been in almost 20 years on this incarceration and he has spent almost every day of this incarceration (until very recently) in disciplinary segregation. He was locked up on a less than 20 year charges, but he's been caught multiple times with weapons inside the prison and the department of correctioins has filed charges which resulted in additional years tacked onto his index offense. He has a very colorful history of writing letters to the wardens, librarians, and other staff which he signs White Power. He refers to the people in terms that are not used in polite company--actually, those terms are not even used in impolite company. He threatens their lives and is verbally sexually inappropriate. (He tells me that he did that intentionally because he wanted to stay in Segregation because one does not have a "cellie" in Segreation.. He likes having a private room.) For years, he filled in forms with his first name as White and his last name as Power. Recently, he has decided to behave himself and has earned enough credit to get moved from maximum to medium security and out of segregation.

The man has been in some sort of prison since he was 15. The great majority of his crimes have been drunken brawling, battery, multiple thefts and robbery, some burglaries. He's in his 50's now and has only been outside of some kind of prison 6 or 8 times for 2 or 3 months at a time. Each time he gets out, violates parole with a new crime, gets arrested, tried and convicted again. Most of the times, it's 18 months or 3 years for some relatively minor crime like robbery or theft. But, the last crime (prior to the ones committed while in prison) was for a major sex crime. He abducted a teenage male, threatened his life, and forced the youth to perform fellatio. He's had no sexual misconduct in prison except for being caught holding his genitalia in his cell and telling a correctional officer that he suspects the correctional officer would be very good at performing fellatio based on his ability to write disciplinary tickets. That got him another ticket--for insolence.

His risk rating is off the scale. His actuarial scores are as high as they get. His PCL-R is nearly a 30--right at the top of the scale. But, he does not meet the mental health criteria. He does not have a paraphilia. Based on his official record, his behavior in prison, his risk scores, and his PCL-R, he'll commit some violent crime within 3 to 4 months of release. But, there is no way I can refer him for civil commitment. He does not meet the mental health criteria. This is a profoundly dangerous, habitual criminal and he'll re-offend in some way or another. But, if a paraphilia is not pushing or driving him to re-offend sexually I cannot refer him. It would be a misuse of the law.

This is a problematic case because I know the community is going to suffer if I don't refer him for civil commitment and I cannot because to do so would misuse the law.

EPHRAM

I finally broke down and called my son this morning. I've been trying to give him some space. He can't even get time to listen to his voice mails because there are so many of them. But, I didn't call yesterday and I wanted to know how Cassie is today.

While talking, Ephram crawled completely up on the kitchen counter to get something he wanted. Dean fussed at him. I had to remind Dean that when he was a little boy, he repeatedly crawled up on the kitchen counters and stole every single Ding Dong from the very top shelf of the cupboards. He then blamed the transgression on the dog.

The kids had bacon, eggs, strawberries and watermelon for breakfast. Historically, Ephram loves bacon and will not touch eggs. When he was an infant he ate eggs, but as a toddler he has firmly refused eggs. But, this morning it was all about the eggs. Turns out, Dean made a cake last night and Ephram had his first experience of cracking the eggs and adding them to the big stand mixer that his parents got for a wedding present. His interest in eggs was limited to the eggs that went into the cake, not in the eggs on his plate. His dietary preferences concern me a little--bacon and cake. But, at least his father prepares him proper food. In spite of his dietary choices, Ephram is not a little pork chop. Gideon tends to be a bit of a pork chop. Poor little Gideon was born hungry and his father says that if you put a steak in front of that 11 month old, he'll manage to eat it. He has four teeth and 2 more coming in.

Dean told me that he spoke with his father for an hour last night or nearly an hour. He said it was a good talk. I can think of nothing that has ever mattered more to me. They can't resolve the problem unless they start talking to each other. Their estrangement provided the perfect environment for stubborness to grow, feelings to harden and pride to take over. My heart has been broken and my soul suffered as a result of their estrangement. I pray to God that they will move towards softening, love and forgiveness. Dean came away from the conversation believing his father might be willing to come visit him. He sure is hoping. I would be more delighted than you can imagine. His father has never met Gideon. Ephram and Gideon need to know their grandfather. In fact, they need to go swimming with him.

With infinite wisdom, Colin Powell was able to recognize the destructive power of pride taking over, positions hardening, and people getting stubborn. So much wisdom in the old Secretary of State!

MY PRECIOUS SON

On a regular day before Cassie got sick, my son worked two jobs, did a lot of housework, and did a much of the child care for two young sons. Now, my son is attempting to do all that he was doing before this happened and desperately trying to save his wife's life.

I spoke to him this morning. He was attempting to get her in the car and the two boys in their car seats to take her to the doctor again. They are seeing their regular doctor this morning and trying to get her in to a neurologist as soon as posible.

Ephram, the very independent 2 1/2 year old, was trying to help by getting into the car on his own and pinched his finger in the door. Thank God, he did not smash his finger.

I've talked to my boss and gotten approval to go to Texas as soon as possible. Dean asked me to wait. Right now, the hospital staff is developing a "round robin" list of staff to come to the house and help with the boys and Cassie. They also have a set of close friends and they and their families of origin have offered to come to the house and help with the children, housework, and Cassie. God Bless Texans!

As wonderful as Texans are and as wonderful as the hospital staff are in setting up the "round robin" of caretakers all those people have full time jobs, houses, kids, families and eventually they will get exhausted also.

Last night, right after Dean called me, I called his father. His father has every right to know that something horrible beyond imagination has happened to Dean. Dean and his father have been estranged for the last couple of years. It's heartbreaking because his father has always loved Dean with the same passion that Dean loves his own sons. In fact, when I observe Dean with his boys, it is like looking at his father with Dean when he was a small boy. There simply was and is no greater love. I know that Dean's father thinks about him every single day of his life. And, he grieves the separation that has occured between him and his only living child. Currently, he is as terrified and frantic as I am. I know he left a message for Dean on his voicemail last night. I don't know if Dean even got the message. Sometimes, I leave messages and he doesn't remember to stop what he's doing and pick up his voicemail. Sometimes, we play telephone tag for days on end. I know that on normal days, before he was needing to provide round the clock care, for his wife--he was working two jobs, providing round the clock care for two infants and trying to stay on top of housework. I hope and pray that he responds to his father. His father desperately wants to provide comfort, emotional support, and care for him. And, if Dean ever needed his father in his life, he needs him now.

Perejil

I've been reading Zakaria's book, The Post-American World, and I'm quite taken with him as a writer. He's a fine writer with a brilliant mind and he leads me through the tango of international relations with enormous skill and subtlty. Through him, I find clarity. I miss clarity.

He recounts one incident that struck me as very meaningful not just in terms of international relations, but in terms of basic human and family relationships.

There's a small island (tiny island) just off the coast of Morocco in the Straits of Gibraltar. It's called Leila. The island is totally uninhabited save for some wild goats who thrive on the wild parsley (Perejil) that grows wild on this rocky, barren island. In 2002, Morocco sent a small band of soldiers (about 10 or so) and they planted a Moroccan flag there. The goats could care have cared less. But, Spain and Morocco had long contested Leila. The Spanish government perceived this Moroccan behavior as "aggression". Nearly 100 Spanish soldiers were airlifted onto the island. They tore down the Moroccan flag, raised two Spanish flags, and sent the dozen or so Moroccan soldiers home. The Spanish actions were perceived as an "act of war" by the Moroccans and the government organized rallies where scores upon scores of young men chanted "Our souls and our blood are sacrifices to you. Leila!" in the streets. Military helicopters hovered over Leila and Spanish warships monitored the coast of Morocco.

The then Secretary of State Colin Powell was called to intervene. He worked late into a Friday evening and Saturday morning phoning the Moroccan king and Foreign Minister
because he decided "I had to push for a compromise fast because otherwise pride takes over, positions harden, and people get stubborn". He was under some pressure because it was already getting late in the day in the Mediterranean and his grandchildren were scheduled to arrive at his home for a swim with him. He managed to get the get the crisis resolved and got to go swimming with his grandchildren--which is precisely what a grandfather should be doing with his grandchildren.

The phrase "pride takes over, positions harden, and people get stubborn" struck me as so telling in terms of what happens not just in international relations, but what happens in families over equally absurd situations. Sometimes--almost without exception--it's far more important to forgive, compromise, love, and swim with ones grandchildren than to be "right".

Stubborn pride and being "right" are far oversold as values especially within the context of their price.

NOTES

Eric left very early this morning to drive to Wichita to visit Ann. On his way, he is stopping to pick up his younger brother, Joel, so they can both visit. Joel just visited while Ann was in the hospital, but I guess he wants to visit again and it will give Eric a chance to show off his new vehicle and some bonding time with his younger brother. I hope and pray they told Ann they were planning to visit. I strongly prefer visits and social activities by appointment. Eric is more informal than I am.

I took Dakota in to the VET this morning and she got her stitches removed. The wound has to be checked next Wednesday and then the following week she can start chemo--I hope.

I received a piece of that hate mail by email recently. It was quite disturbing. I recognize that it was authored by an angry, hate filled, venon spewing, blowheart who shoots off his mouth instead of actively working productively for the political candidate of his choice. I suspect that he is so much of a loose cannon and so intellectually dysregulated that no political candidate would risk allowing him to volunteer. This man was spewing hate, lies, gossip, spreading rumors, name calling. My impression is that he's an intellectually and psychologically small man who is desperately attempting to present himself as an intellectually and psychologically big man with his lies, gossip, name calling and rumor spreading. His verbalizations remind me of the verbalizations I've seen so very often in chronic mental patients who have been forensically or civilly committed to state hospitals. He's a pitiful man. Unfortunately, I fear that he may also be a dangerous man. But, as of yet, he has not communicated any direct threats. His entire five page rant was indirectly threating--not to me personally--but threatening.

While reading his rants disturbs me greatly, it can be important to keep track of the thinking of dangerous people. Right now, I'm focused on staying as far away from him as possible. In comparison, he makes right wing conservatives look like far left wing liberals. There's no doubt in my mind that he is a seriously disturbed individual.

FLOODING

Drove up close the the Iowa/Wisconsin border Monday. I needed to do an evaluation up in that neck of the woods on Tuesday.

The flooding is unimaginable. The rivers are flowing violently, churning, almost volcanic in their churning. It's going to take months, if not years, just to clean up the destruction. The rivers are full of sofas, mattresses, cars, hot water heaters, farm equipment, bloated rotting corpses of wild animals, domestic animals, and livestock. The larger items get caught on the pillars holding up bridges and then other items get caught on the caught items. While there is no barge traffic, the river is so full of dead animals and destroyed household and farm property that it reminds me of when the barges are gridlocked. To make it even worse there are thousands, if not millions, of acres of fertile farm land--some already planted in multi-thousands of dollars worth of crops that are lost. I don't think I'll ever complain again about the acres and acres of corn and soybeans again.

The water is supposed to get to St. Louis on Monday. Because some of the northern levees overtopped or were breeched it has probably lessened the flooding that we will see. It's already bad enough here and to the south of here. Nevertheless, I am greatly saddened by the price our northern neighbors have paid.

I'm scheduled to return to the Gothic prison some time next week. Hopefully, I'll go before the water reaches them. Place is bad enough as it is without having to park the car miles up the bluff, hike down to the water and take a boat to the prison. It would be a terrible inconvenience for me although nothing compared to what the men who must live in that rotting hole every day and the men and women who must staff it around the clock go through. The prison must be staffed 24-7-365 so when the floods come, some of the staff just live there until the water recedes.

The trip up Monday was stressful. It's always a difficult drive. Five hours of driving is very uncomfortable and I'm always so stiff I can barely get out of the car and walk when I finally arrive at the hotel. The wind farm helps because I always pull over and just allow their meditative swoosh, swoosh, swoosh to soothe my soul.

Then, when I got to the hotel, I quickly pulled on my swimsuit and submerged myself for about a half hour in their wonderful clean, very hot whirlpool and just let the pounding hot soothe some of my cramped muscles.

The prison up there is a nice one--old, but well maintained--clean, with friendly, competent, helpful staff. It's the prison for special needs prisoners--either very medically ill or severely psychiatrically impaired inmates.

The inmate I interviewed presents as problematic. He's a relatively young man (mid 50's), but he is so very ill medically that I question if he should be referred. I have to score his interview and actuarials today. He certainly has been plagued with deviant sexual urges and behaviors for most of his adult life. There is no doubt that he carries a diagnosis of Pedophilia, Female Children Non Exclusive, Exhibitionism, and Frotteurism. Five years ago he had to have two major surgeries and had large sections of his bowel removed. Currently, he is on the waiting list to be sent to the closest university hospital (a very good one) because he has bowel incontinence and each evacuation is filled with dark black red blood. He has a history of colon cancer in his family. He clearly is in significant pain and had to leave the interview room about every 10 to 15 minutes to empty his bowels.

This is problematic because the law was not written to be used as extended punishment. These men and women have already served their time. The law was written to allow these men and women to get the treatment they so desperately need so they can learn and apply the skills to not offend in the future and to protect the community against further sexual offenses. Public monies pay for all the court hearings, trials, and treatment. If this man is going to die before we can even get through the trial, it is a terrible waste of public monies to take him to trial. These trials are unbelievably expensive. The tax payers could pay for a road or a bridge for what one of these trials costs. So, I need to stall my decision until I can get the results from his tests at the university hospital. Very problematic case because his probable cause hearing must be done by mid-August.

WIND FARM

I'm headed way up north today, near the Wisconsin border.

I'm very embarrassed about a dreadful mistake I made yesterday. I went to my office yesterday evening (quite late) to start getting my evaluation book and data ready for the trip today and discovered that my hotel reservation was scheduled for last night. By that time, I'd already missed late check in by several hours.

In my head, I thought I was scheduled to travel today and evaluate tomorrow. But no, I was scheduled to travel on Sunday and evaluate today. Routinely, I do everything I can to avoid traveling on Sunday. Sunday has always been a family day and I attempt to keep it as such. But, I made an error and told Catherine to schedule it for today. I went back and checked the email to see who made the error. It was me in big bold black email. It was an issue of me assuming that Catherine could read my mind and know I was making a mistake.

This sounds like a simple problem, but it is not. Not only will they be charged for a hotel room I didn't use, but we'll have to contact the prison to explain to them that I will be there tomorrow for the evaluation not today. This is a major inconvenience for them. Further, Catherine will have to get a second hotel night approved from the travel office. It's just a lot more work for poor Catherine (already significantly overworked) and a lot of confusion for the DOC. I'll end up paying out of pocket for the night missed at the hotel. The problem will be that all the dates will be confused.

Just a total mess and I'll look like a disorganized fool. But, there's nothing to do but admit the error and go on. Fortunately, I have been relatively good about not making errors at work (especially not stupid ones like this one). Hopefully, they will understand and forgive me.

I'm actually looking forward to the trip. This specific prison is one I enjoy going to. I like the little town, I like the hotel, I like the prison. It's Ronald Reagan's boyhood home town and the whole town has that feel of a quieter, friendlier, safer time to it.

It's a long long drive, but there is a gigantic windfarm stretching over many acres along the highway just before the town. The gigantic windmills going swoosh, swoosh, swoosh are such a soothing, pleasant, meditative, comforting sight. When they first come into sight, it's like an oasis opening up in the distance. I look forward to seeing them each trip and my heart always soars a bit every time I see them. Of course, there is no noxious smell of fire and oil like the smell of the awkward skeletons of oil rigs that I often have to pass in other parts of the state.

I often wonder why the citizenary doesn't embrace more and more wind farms. It's such a simple, intelligent solution to some of our major problems. And, the farmers can plant their crops remarkably close to the bottom of the windmills. The windmills reduce crop production by so little. But, the local papers are filled with articles about how the presence of the windmills cause children in the community brain damage. It's a scare tactic that has taken hold in that community. Now, it makes no logical scientific sense, but sometimes in the countryside logical scientific sense is totally ignored. Our lives could be so much better if we would simply embrace and invest in the power of the wind and the sun. But, of course, we would have to stop clinging to the old ways. Even more, the very rich oil barons would have to relinquish part of their control and windfall profits.

FATHER'S DAY

Today is one of the toughest days of the year.

My father died over ten years ago and my sister and I have had to go on without him. The truth is that he lives inside of me. Not just in my genetic material, but in memory, example, and values.

There are memories that still overwhelm me. He was an utterly "innocent man" and his never ending kindness to all humans and all animals mark him for all time.

He grew up the eldest child of many children. By the time he was grown, he was the eldest of 7 sisters and 3 brothers. But, in truth there were a total of 23 siblings. Back in those days, infant mortality was much higher than it is now. When he was 13, he needed to quit school and go to work in a fish market to bring in cash to help his mother as she struggled alone against abject poverty with all those children to feed. He never got a chance to finish his education.

Then, WWII came. He and Mama married March 2, 1942. He left for Europe 2 days later. He went to England first. Later, he parachuted into France where he got lost. Many of the men got lost and were separated from their comrades. Had it not been for supportive French citizens who hid him and fed him, he would have been taken by the Germans. There were many Germans about. Daddy was a grunt and front line cannon fodder. Towards the end of the war, he and other American soldiers walked into concentration camps and cleaned up the remains. He never forgot. It changed him forever! It was important that no one ever tried to tell him the holocaust was a hoax. He saw it with his own eyes. He saw and smelled the piles of rotting corpses. There were still remnants of human beings in the ovens. He smelled the cooked and rotting flesh with his own nose.

In January, 1945 he finally came home. I was born October 5, 1946. For a long time, he sufferred acutely from what we now call PTSD. In the 1940's, we didn't even know what PTSD was. He was unable to go to the side of town that housed the slaughterhouse. The smells overwhelmed him and flooded him with memories of those concentration camps. For years, he and Mama could not eat in a diner or restaurant near a factory. The lunch whistle and quitting time whistle would cause him to take cover under any available table.

He took a job on the assembly line in a factory. It was the same factory where Mama worked during the war. Mama was one of the original Rosie the Riveters. She worked inside of tanks being constructed for the war effort. After the war, the factory went back to constructing refrigerators and that's what Daddy did for several years.

Later, Daddy finally was accepted into the union for Operating Engineers. He had operated heavy equipment during the war and help construct landing fields and runways for American planes in France and eventually Germany. Work was not slow, but Daddy was low man on the totem pole for many years and had to work himself up to being a man that was routinely sent out on jobs. It was back breaking, hard dirty work with very long hours. It was also seasonal with little heavy construction work done during the long cold Indiana winters. Many winters were hungry ones for us.

I remember one winter more clearly than any of my life. There was no work and it was brutally cold with snow thigh high. We had so very little. Daddy and Mama took jobs for the telephone company walking the streets of Evansville, Indiana delivering telephone books--house to house. They got 10 cents for each telephone book delivered. They earned enough for my sister and I to have food and a meager Christmas. I'm 62 and I still cry when I think of their dogged loyalty and commitment to providing for my sister and I. We had food that winter. Looking back, they went hungry.

Over the years, things got financially better. Then, Mama died at 62 and Daddy went on to live another 18 years without her. He did the best he could.

I was a rebellious, stuck up, prideful, stubborn, ungrateful, arrogant little brat in my youth. I didn't tell him enough how much I loved him. I didn't say I was sorry when I should have. I didn't recognize what an incredible human being he was. I didn't appreciate his sacrifice and his loyalty and his love. There are so many things I should have said and so many things I should have done. There were so many times when I was disrespectful and unkind.

Now, I live with the grief every day. He's dead and I cannot ask his forgiveness or tell him how wrong I was. I cannot say I love you. I threw away my opportunities. Every day is hard, but Father's Day is the hardest day of the year. Daddy, I am so sorry. You deserved so much more from life and you deserved so much more from me.

The grief from the death of loved ones is horrible, but the grief of my own mistakes--of my unkindness, of my disrespect-- I will carry with me to my grave. I made my bed. I must lie in it.

TIM RUSSERT

Like many people, I was stunned, shocked and saddened by the sudden death of 58 year old Tim Russert. Other than watching him on TV, I had no knowledge of him. I was impressed by his work, but did not make his show appointment TV.

His sudden death has brought home to me something far more important and something I already knew at some level of consciousness. It brought home to me how important it is to keep those people we love very close to us because any moment could be the last. There may not be the chance to say "I love you" or "Goodbye" or "I'm sorry" or "I forgive you".

And, if we don't say those words, if we don't repair relationships with those we love------we live for the rest of our lives with our grief at not repairing the relationships.

GOTHIC PRISON

I drove way down south today to evaluate an inmate in a very old maximum security prison. It's a massive old gothic style--looks like a midevil castle with small turrets and little openings mimicking those little holes that midevil folks used to shoot arrows through. The place was built in the mid 1800's. It still functions as a maximum security prison--no air conditioning in summer, always damp and musty, little--sometimes n0 heat-- in the winter. So, it's always cold and damp in the winter and hot, sticky, and humid in the summer. Miserable place.

To reach the place you drive far to the south on a two lane highway interrupted every five or ten miles by towns of 300 people. Every now and then, the speed limit gets up to 55. Just when you get the car up to 55, the speed limit immediately drops back to 35. Takes forever to get there.

On the way, I have to pass an old maximum security mental health center where I worked many years ago. Even passing the place on the road gives me chills and shudders. Nothing by bad memories! Absolutely nothing, but bad memories and nightmares.. I dread going to do evaluations at this prison because there's no way to get there but pass the old mental health center. The memories and nightmares of the place just flood back over me. The memories and nightmares do not have to do with what was done to me--although plenty was done to me--the memories and nightmares has to do with what was done to the patients by staff. But, in the end, I blew the whistle and a number of staff went to prison.

Once past it, I drive on until I get to a road where I make a sharp right and immediately start dropping down a frighteningly steep hill. The hill is so steep that it has one of those runaway truck braking areas. At the very bottom of this hill is a narrow road that runs directly beside a railroad track and then suddenly drops off into the Mississippi River. The runaway truck braking area exists in the hope of keeping folks from losing control and plunging into the Mississippi. I make a right and drive down a very narrow road directly beside the railroad track to the prison. Once I reached the prison today and parked the car, I noticed that the officers had stacked sandbags well above my head in an attempt to keep the river from flooding the prison. If it does flood next week, as is expected, the flooding will cover the railroad tracks, the narrow road and invade the prison grounds (unless the sandbags hold the water back). I'm scheduled to go down again next week.

After parking the car, I walked to the building normally used as the gate house. The door was permanently locked. I wandered about until I found a non-inmate and asked how one gained admission. He thought it was down by the flag. So, I hiked the mile down to the flag and found the new gate house. One of the correctional officers told me that the old gatehouse has been condemned because the Governor approriated the capital improvements money and had a 1 1/2 million dollar drive way built at the Governors Mansion. The Governor does not live in the Governors Mansion. Neither does his wife or children. They all live in a big city way up north and he flies to work down in the center of the state when he goes to work at the state capitol.

After an hour of dealing with the people in the gatehouse, I gained admission. Even though they had been informed that I was coming none of the people in the gatehouse could find the memo or knew I was coming. I had my badge with me that is imprinted with 1/2 tall red letters saying "LEGAL", but that didn't help. I had printed off a copy of the notice informing them of my arrival and gave it to them, but they wanted their original memo and wouldn't accept my copy. Every single time I go to this prison, the problem is the same. No matter how many times they are informed an evaluator is expected, they lose the memo and it takes a least an hour to get in and usually several phone calls to DOC headquaters to get orders for them to let me in. It's just the way this prison runs. Sometimes, you just have to accept the things you cannot change.

Then, once in and back in Master Records, I was informed that I could review the records but the inmate had been moved to a different prison. Fortunately, it was just up the road a bit. But, I had to go through the same nonsense from the front gate a second time from the second prison.

Once I finally got to interview the inmate, he was one of the most polite cooperative people--not inmates--people I have ever interviewed.