I had a wonderful visit today with my mother, father and Marcella. Wonderful, considering the circumstances and the strain which indeed they are surely under.
As I expected, I received a lot of verbal flak from Screws going and coming from the actual visit. Their warped sense of humour was evident in their childish taunts, etcetera.
I wrapped myself up well to keep me from the cold. My weight is 58.25 kgs today, but I burnt up more energy today with the visit. I’ve no complaints of any nature.
I’ve noticed the orderlies are substituting slices of bread for bits of cake, etcetera — stealing the sweet things (which are rare anyway) for themselves. I don’t know whether it’s a case of ‘How low can you get?’ or ‘Well, could you blame them?’ But they take their choice and fill of the food always, so it’s the former.
They left my supper in tonight when the priest (Fr Murphy) was in. There were two bites out of the small doughy bun. I ask you!
I got the Sunday World newspaper; papers have been scarce for the past few days.
There is a certain Screw here who has taken it upon himself to harass me to the very end and in a very vindictive childish manner. It does not worry me, the harassment, but his attitude aggravates me occasionally. It is one thing to torture, but quite a different thing to exact enjoyment from it, that’s his type.
There was no mirror search going out to visits today — a pleasant change. Apparently, with the ending of the no-wash protest, the mercenary Screws have lost all their mercenary bonuses, etcetera, notwithstanding that they are also losing overtime and so on. So, not to be outdone, they aren’t going to carry out the mirror search any more, and its accompanying brutality, degradation, humiliation, etcetera.
Why! Because they aren’t being paid for it!
I’m continually wrapped up in blankets, but find it hard to keep my feet warm. It doesn’t help my body temperature, drinking pints of cold water. I’m still able to take the salt and five or six pints of water per day without too much discomfort.
The books that are available to me are trash. I’m going to ask for a dictionary tomorrow. I’d just sit and flick through that and learn, much more preferable to reading rubbish.
The English rag newspapers I barely read, perhaps flick through them and hope that no one opens the door. A copy of last week’s AP/RN was smuggled in and was read out last night (ingenuity of POWs again). I enjoyed listening to its contents (faultless – get off them ! – good lad Danny (Morrison)). I truly hope that the people read, take in and understand at least some of the truths that are to be regularly found in it. I see Paddy Devlin is at his usual tricks, and won’t come out and support the prisoners…
Well, that’s it for tonight. I must go. Oíche Mhaith.