It is now officially official because all parties have been heard from and been given their opportunity to boot me in the conundrums - nobody can say they didn't have a chance.
All reports have been finalised and "locked in", as their rather odd jagon has it - the die is cast, the arrows are flying through the air, the missile has been launched.
Okay, for those who are more comfortable with less colourful speech and prefer plain talking, here are the facts. All of the reports have been completed and suhmitted to the Parole Board, as far as I know, and the results are as follows:
- My home OM - Offender Manager, formerly my probation officer - has said that she wants me in an Open Prison to prepare me for release.
- The independent psychologist, an immensely likeable person, has said precisely the same thing - Open Prison to prepare me for release.
- The prison psychologist, who we all know and love as Blodwin, also would be quite happy to see me in Open Prison to prepare me for release and she will be attending the Parole Board and telling them so.
- The only fly in the proverbial, of course, is the Smiling Assassin, but she doesn't count - she has no business making recommendations in the first place.
So, we have everyone singing from the same hymn sheet - and anyone who has any sort of experience of the prison service will fully appreciate how difficult that can be, to get everyone in unison. So (I've got to stop saying that, I'm a PhD for God's sake!)... Anyway (and that's no better), the tide is coming in at last.
Bugger it, nobody will get that reference:
For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,
Seem here no painful inch to gain,
Far back, through creeks and inlets making,
Comes silent, flooding in, the Main.
Arthur Clough.
It could be said that the feet are firmly planted on the long road of progress at last.
What bothers me in all this is - where is that fickle ould tart who has been the bane of my life for so many years? Where is she? Lady Luck? Has she found someone else to torment? I hope she has - but if she has, whoever you are, God bless you, you've got my sympathy.
The next step in the saga of the 'Demented Prisoner' is to get an actual date for the Parole Hearing, and that of course is only something that my solicitor can push for.
To move on...
It may he remembered that I have been banging on a bit lately about how many governors we have here at the Lazy L, a total of thirty-nine to be exact. I now find that I may have been just a bit uncharitable because it seems that while there ARE thirty-nine people here of governor grade, a fair number of them are really just heads of various departments and not governors as such. They just have the governor grade, and that is probably more to do with pay structures as much as anything else. Still, they are governor grades, and thirty-nine in one clink is too many by anyone's criteria.
Finally, Boudica - or, as her adoring fans call her, Attila the Nun. (Ha ha! I like that one. Did I write that? I can't wait to see what I write next - I'm entertaining myself here.)
So, Boudica definitely seems to have lost her favourite pigeon, Scruffy. She's still got thirty or so others, so there is no call for anyone to put pigeons in boxes to send to her, although you can if you want to - I haven't got to deal with them so I don't care. It's her birthday on December 7th so I would appreciate it if people would be kind enough to send her birthday messages because I think she has reached the grand total of fifty now. I'm not sure of course - and I can't ask because I am supposed to know these things.
Besides, she'd only want to poke me in the eye again.
Oh yes, I have this uncanny ability to bring out the very best in people. It's a skill you know, given to few - and the main reason why I wear protective goggles.
The Voice In The Wilderness
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