See you at the fair

It's been very blogless out lately. Mostly, hard to get on line, but that ssems to have healed itself finally. I did two days of testing at the new jail - interesting experience. Every jail is different. One place is a warren of identical corridors, another is on straight line hall with different colored floor tiles for different sections. In one jail, they let the inmates have golf pencils at all times. In another jail, you have to keep track of even the paperclips. One jail lets the inmates come and go within the area without escort, another requires an officer to attend the prisoners to and from the testing room. Inmates are housed in dormitories or pods or cellblocks. They wear orange stripes or green stripes or solid chambray blue. Underwear is pink or peach. And by the way, you don't get to wear your own undies. You wear what gets issued to you and try to forget that someone else was wearing it last week. The one thing that is common to every jail is the plastic slippers worn by every inmate, male or female, big, little or medium. Everyone wears the same open-toe plastic sandals. You can't run in them or use them for weapons, and they can be steamed and bleached to get rid of any cooties the last guy may have had. Whoever manufactures those things is making a bundle!!!

I worked Tuesday through Friday, and then Saturday, we went to the fair. We saw a nestfull of baby goats that had just hatched.

We saw cows and pigs and draft horses and show horses and race horses and minature horses.

We saw minature horses' asses.

We saw the world's biggest cockroach wandering around. We also saw giant pumpkins, giant sunflowers, giant zucchinis, and a kalidascope of quilts!(They asked us not to photograph the quilts.)

We saw a llama with a really bad haircut. Do you suppose he's trying out for a part in the Dr. Suese musical? Good legs, but can he sing and dance?

You know it's plain folks when you see signs like this.

We went with MJ and RW, who are seen here, teasing salesmen and trying on hot-tubs. It's important to make sure the new hot-tub fits.

In the last post (almost a week ago)I was sorta surprised that so many of you mentioned you wouldn't be up for a massage. Howcome? Are you shy? Have you tried it and not liked it? I've had good massages, and bad massages, and once in Hawaii, I had a massage that was so much fun for me and the therapist that she wound up giving me an extra hour for free. Some people like to make small talk with the therapist. Some folks like to be quiet and really sink into it. I open the lid to the subconscious and relate the pictures that play behind my eyes while the therapist is working. Some cope with this, some can't. The one in Hawaii was grooving on it so much that she didn't want to stop. She was working on my upper thigh, and I was feeling the cellulite ripple under her hands and I told her, "I've always hated my cottage-cheesey butt, but all of a sudden I just saw it as a beautiful quilt wraped around to protect my girly bits and keep them warm. I have my own built-in quilt. Isn't that great?" And we both started giggling like eleven-year-olds at a slumber party.

Massages are expensive, but they can make you feel so nurtured and precious and comfortable in your body that they are worth it. As a treat. If you can go into it not feeling too shy or uncomfortable. Remember, you won't be the first naked stranger the therapist has ever worked on, nor will you be the most, or least beautiful. If s/he is a healer, then your appearance is totally irrelevant. And if s/he ISN'T a healer, then his/her opinion is totally irrelevant. I'm a massage advocate, and I give a good one because I know what feels good.

And some people just don't want to be touched by a stranger, and if that's how you feel, then God bless you, you are perfect just the way you are.