Peachy Keen

Because circumstances prevented A-Upper range from getting recreation yesterday, all of us on that floor are being given an extra hour in the chicken coops today as "make-up." With temperatures at 55-60 F (13-15 C), it is an absolutely perfect day. In just a couple of months temperatures like these will seem comparatively frigid, but for now I could not ask for more pleasant conditions. I'm actually outside in the rec cage right now, as I write this. What's it called: Live blogging? I'm live blogging.

Sitting along a fence so that as many rays of sun as possible hit my badly-needing-a-tan body is turning out to be one of the most physically refreshing experiences of the year so far. No one else in the coops seems to share my recreation revelry, though. Quite a few vexed and annoyed glances from my fellow "reccers" have been shot my way. And on our way out here from the cell, even my own celly gave me one of those looks that says "Are you fucking serious?" when he saw that I was bringing writing materials out with me. This is due to this environment's intense preoccupation with always being "on the ready." The fact that I'm sitting unconcernedly in a cage engrossed in a pad of paper, seemingly oblivious to the four other convicts in the cage with us is blatantly violating the custom of always considering how to be at the best advantage to fend off any potential attacker or tickler. It is a part of The Code which extends to wearing shoes or boots at all times, even to the shower. Which sucks because unless your celly is a talented or at least willing masseuse, getting a decent foot rub is out of the question if prison etiquette is to be followed. Whatever - I'm the SuperFriends shot-caller; I make my own rules. And what my celly and everyone else looking resentful at my carefree demeanor don't realize is that I actually am consciously in the optimal position for my super-secret strategy of dealing with attackers - curling into a ball and yelling for my mommy.

Looking around me, it's amazing to see how the glory of Spring is able to permeate the thickest of walls and highest of fences. Drainage pipes stretching along the ceiling of the coops provide a perfectly secure nook for robins and doves to build their nests, which they are already busily doing. And the troops of ants and beetles and caterpillars which at most times would be an offensive sight to behold at this moment are a welcome sign of the changing season as they cautiously venture from the stress cracks in the concrete.

Ugh, there's a spider. Get away from me you freaky eight-eyed devil bug.

Two hours already? Live blog session signing off.