Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Days Of Wine And Bacon

They say you shouldn't cook with a wine you won’t drink. I don’t drink wine. So where does that leave me? Buying the cheapest wine I find, that is where.

I found this pork chop recipe a few months ago and it has been a hit around here. Pintrest… is there anything it can’t do?

It calls for white wine.

I was going to make it a few weeks ago and I was out of white wine. Around the same time, Carolynn wanted me to make her and Michelle’s favorite, bacon fried rice. We were also out of bacon. So I ask David to pick up those two items on his way home one day.

He picks up the girls from school and heads over to the Winco. He picks up a $2.97 bottle of white wine and a pound of bacon. Quite the combo; Less than $6 purchase.

He takes it up and the cashier won’t ring it up for him. He shows his ID. Okay, he looks young. Good for him. But he has his ID so no big deal… Or so you would think.

But the checker won’t sell him the wine. She insinuates that David is buying this wine to give to Carolynn and Catherine who are with him. Because they are under aged and he looks like the kind of guy who buys $2.97 bottles of wine for minors. Or so he can get them drunk and take advantage of them. Whatever.

The manager is called and basically tells him the same thing. He tries telling them that they are his kids but no one is buying that. We just cook with it. They aren’t buying that either. They eventually let him make his purchase, after making him feel like a creepy child predator first.

I know a lot of dumb criminals.

But in this case…

If you are planning on buying alcohol for minors, why would you bring them with you? Why would you make the purchase in broad daylight at a large market? And why would you buy a cheap bottle of white wine? And why would you need bacon?


Friday, February 21, 2014

A Day In The Life

Everywhere You Want To Be

On a fabulous day working visiting, a couple came in. They were in their 80’s and the woman was crying. They are there to visit but are afraid they just don’t have the proper documentation.

They tell me how they looked on the website to see what they need. ID is required and the prison will accept…

State Issued ID/ Driver’s License
Passport/Border Crossing Card/Visa
Military ID

The man says he has something, but she doesn’t have anything.

Sorry, there is nothing I can do for them if she has no ID. She is upset. But really, ID is required.

He calmly tells her to relax. He will go in and visit for a short time and come right back out. He fills out his form and hands it to me along with his card.

The lady is still there crying.

She asks me why an American Express won’t work.


Then I look at his ID. It is not an ID at all, but a Visa card. Visa credit card. Not a visa passport card.

Wrong kind of visa.

I tell him and he looks at me like I just said a dirty word.

He and his wife leave in a huff.

He comes back a short time later and presents a military ID. He says his wife had nothing with her except her American Express. He is then processed in for a visit. He doesn’t visit long, as his wife is waiting.

At least he got in.

Friday, January 31, 2014

A Day In The Life

Shortest Fight

So I was walking along, minding my own business.

Actually, I was minding the business of inmates in recreation areas. There were between 2 and 4 inmates in each outdoor recreation area. It was a pretty nice day and inmates were exercising and playing handball and generally enjoying some time outside.

There were two inmates in a middle area that were watching me pretty intently. Of course they think I am too dumb to notice. I am not the only officer out there. There is another officer out there watching as well. He too notices the odd behavior of these two inmates.

They appear to be jogging; around and around in their area. Not talking and watching us.

Each time we pass by they stop.

Finally on the third pass, one of them says to me…

“Hey CO Lady. You think I could fight this guy?” He indicated to the other inmate in his area.

“I don’t think you should. How about you come out of there now?” I signaled to the other officer who had the keys.

Before the officer could get there, the inmate he mentioned walked up and punched the inmate who had been talking to me right in the stomach.

The inmate who had been punched doubled over. I called for other staff as I had no idea what else would happen.

The officer with the keys opened the inner door and the inmate who had been punched walked to the outer door. The officer then closed the inner door, separating the two inmates.

Then the inmate who punched him, went back to his jogging. He didn’t say a word.

More staff arrived and escorted the punched inmate to medical and then back to his cell. They also did the same for the jogging inmate, who seemed unhappy his jogging time had been cut short.

I asked him why.

He said some people just deserve a good punch every now and again.

Friday, January 24, 2014

A Day In The Life

How Could This Happen To Me?

So I was working one day when the lieutenant called me and told me I was needed up front. That can’t be great news.

I headed up to the front where I encountered another lieutenant and a female visitor. She was crying. The lieutenant looked furious. He told me to come with them.


We entered the front lobby and encountered a female SIS (Special Investigations) officer coming in to begin her shift. She immediately joined us.

The lieutenant left us ladies alone and the SIS Officer asked the crying visitor if she had drugs on her. She said she did. The SIS officer asked if she would consent to be searched. She said yes. The officer pat searched her. I stood by.

No drugs were found.

But she said she had some…

And she stripped down and removed a maxi pad filled with balloons of what she told us were heroin and “ice”. The SIS Officer took it. The visitor redressed. We escorted her to another room and I sat with her while the SIS officer went and tested the drugs and do what they were supposed to do.

The visitor sat and cried. And cried. She asked me what was going to happen to her. I didn’t know. She asked if she would go to jail. I said I didn’t know.

But I told her I did know it is a crime to introduce drugs into a prison.

She cried some more.

She said she never thought she would get into trouble.

No, of course not.

The SIS Officer came back and said that it would be up to the police if she was going to jail. But that the police were on the way. She said they searched her car as well. She cried some more.

I can’t go to jail.

She tells the SIS Officer that she has a son and that he was at the babysitter’s house. She needs to go get him. The SIS officer asks for the name and phone number of the babysitter so the police can get in contact. She doesn’t know.

Of course, mother of the year would leave her precious baby with people she doesn’t know so she could smuggle drugs into a prison.

The police arrived to take her to jail. She asked about her car. She was told her car would be towed. She cried some more because it was her father’s car and she was supposed to give it back.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She told us she did not even get paid for the drugs.

How could she possibly have known that attempting to smuggle drugs into a prison she would face a possibilty of going to jail, getting her father’s car towed, and having CPS pick up her kid?

How could she know?

I don’t know. I guess it will remain a mystery.

Monday, January 20, 2014


Everyone got sick.

Catherine had it. She was in her room coughing and sniffling and falling asleep at 2:00 in the afternoon.

David had it. He was in bed coughing and blowing his nose feeling miserable for days.

I had it. Coughing for days. Endless tissues. Nyquil to the rescue.

Michelle had it. Snot running down her face, humidifier in her room constantly. Lots of wiping. Lots of naps. Lots of cuddles.

Somehow though, Carolynn is fine.

I want her immunity.

Sunday, January 12, 2014

The Ramblings Of Flanders

I am not a religious person. Or maybe I am. Maybe I am all religions. You get more holidays that way. More reason’s to celebrate, more parties, more fun. You learn new things. Find new meanings in old things. I will try anything.

So I was at work and nothing was going on and I was stuck in a room with nowhere to go. Talk about boring. All there was in this room was me; a guy not talking to me; a computer in which said guy was using; and a couple of Bibles.
So I flipped one open and read a story.

Here is the Reader’s Digest Version…

There is this guy named Job. He was quite the guy; wife, a mess of kids, big farm. Awesome. On top of that, he was a God’s man. He prayed he worshiped. He was all about his God.

So Satan comes along and say’s to God that Job only worships Him because he has all the good stuff. He suggested that if he didn’t have all that stuff, he would curse God. So God took away all his stuff. No more farm, no more kids…

And Job remained faithful.

Then Satan said if he didn’t also still have his health…

So there was poor Job covered in painful sores.

And he remained faithful.

His friends came and accused him of sinning. No way God would punish you this hard if you weren’t a sinner. His own wife, all he had left, said he might as well be dead.

And he was still faithful.

And he prayed for his friends. He prayed that they would be forgiven for accusing him. Prayed that his wife would see his worth.

And God proved to Satan that Job was faithful no matter what. And he rewarded Job for all his faith by returning his entire farm, his kids and healing him. Plus more.


So the guy in the room with me tells me that it is one of his favorite stories and that he hopes that he would be so awesome that God would recognize him like he recognized Job.

That is all well and good…

But, what kind of sick twisted God does that to a person he supposedly likes? And isn’t it well understood that Christians should block Satan and not let him into their lives? And here we have their own God trying to prove himself to the one person who shouldn’t matter?

I do like that in the end Job was rewarded for his faithfulness. He knew in his heart that he had done nothing wrong. Sometimes bad things happen to good people. That doesn’t then make them bad people. You just need to look in your heart and know what kind of a person you are. If you believe in your heart that you are a good person and you try to live that way each and every day, no matter what happens to you, it will show to all those around you. And you will be rewarded in the end.

What happens to you doesn’t end you.

It is what you become despite it that defines you.

Saturday, January 11, 2014

Not Such A Hot Date

The other day David got it in his head that we needed to go out more. So he took me to Outback and we had a great time. We hadn’t been there since we moved from San Diego. Carolynn watched the baby and everything. It was fabulous.

Usually when we go out we go to Red Robin. David is a big fan of burgers. (And Pizza.) So it is a good choice for us. I can get a burger or chicken or fish. They have great food. And a lot of burger choices. And amazing fries.

So last week, on Thursday night, we decided to go there. It was just us and the baby. The other two were off visiting friends. We got there at about 5:00 PM, according to my FourSquare.

So they were super nice right away. We didn’t have to wait to be seated. They brought us drinks right away. They even brought crackers for Michelle. So we ordered our burgers and then…

We waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

At about 5:40 PM the waitress finally reappeared. She apologized for the wait and brought us a basket of fries. She said there was some kind of mix up and the manager would be out to talk to us. By that time, we were starving and Michelle was sick of waiting. She is 1. She doesn’t wait.

A few minutes later, they finally brought the food. My burger looked right but David’s was wrong. He had to send it back. The came back a few minutes later and brought him the correct burger. Too bad for him it was way overdone. Mine looked right but, it didn’t taste right. I had ordered a bleu cheese burger and whatever sauce they put on it didn’t mesh with the bleu cheese. The manager never came and talked to us. Even though she said he would.

It was awful. AWFUL!

I complained. We eat there often. They should make it right.