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I'm Infamous....or something.

Today we took a drive up to Seattle. Well, ok, mostly today I took a serious nap and then we took a drive up to Seattle. For some reason I could not wake up fully this morning and the mattress sucked me back into bed for two hours. Hubby was fixing Stephanie's truck, the kids were running in and out and bulldozers were doing what bulldozers do, right outside my bedroom window. I can see that it's going to be a very long and loud building time this spring and summer.

But I digress. The kids wanted to go for a drive, so we did. Somehow we ended up in Seattle. My sister wanted to show us these really cool houses for sale on a very busy Seattle street. New construction, enormous back yards, and only three bedrooms. And did I mention the ginormous price tags? These houses were half the size of my current home but cost over a hundred grand more. I'd want to move there....why?.

Then we saw a house that was built in 1947. Large yard, but did I mention tiny, tiny house? Plus, the stairs to the basement would certainly kill me. Very steep, very narrow and very tiny. Again, the price tag was more than our current home. About fifty grand more. Um, no thank you.

I cannot believe we are house hunting. Didn't we just do this two years ago?

At any rate, sister's hubby was nice enough to cook us all dinner tonight. He made a vietnamese soup. Pho? Pha? Something like that. As you can see, I'm very international and know all the names of foreign dishes. Chawww. It was good. Sometime we shall have to go to a real vietnamese place to eat. I haven't had authentic vietnamese food since my vietnamese stalker quit stalking me.

Long story. I'm too tired to go into it right now. Plus, if I did, someone would talk to my sister about it, she would call me and ask me why I have to tell everyone everything on my blog. Apparently there is a gym teacher at my children's former elementary school that keeps up with our family news by reading my columns and now reads my blog. (waves at gym teacher wildly and thanks him profusely for reading) I tell my sister that I don't tell everyone everything in my columns or in my blog. If I did, then I'd have to tell everyone about her nickname and how she got it. Hey gym teacher! Be sure to ask her what CB means, ok? Thanks!


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A Poem to an Abusive Man

I've been doing a bit of research on abuse, domestic violence and how it usually ends. It's not pretty and it's painful and I hurt every time I read another woman's tale of horror.

Did you know that emotional abuse is as detrimental as physical abuse? And that most emotional abusers continue on to become physical abusers? I didn't. I do now. I found a site where formerly abused women, on the path to recovery from their abusers, have written poems. This one below is one that haunted me.

Thank You

You wooed me with poetry
I bit on the hook
Had I only first read
The name of the book

I would have avoided
The very first page
For pages kept turning
Revealing the rage

The ups were a great high
The ride was a bash
But I rode with my eyes closed
To avoid seeing the crash
I knew it would come soon
But I never knew when
The rage and the leaving
And the path to the end

You had to control things
Determined you would
Emotionally destroying me
Every way that you could

Elderly Abuse

I heard a loud thud the other morning around 3:30 a.m. I checked my monitor but he'd once again turned it to the wall so I was unable to see if he was still in bed. I went downstairs right behind my sweet husband and dad was on the living room floor moaning and holding his head. He'd fallen. Hard.

The first picture is the day of the fall. The second is the day after. The black eye keeps blossoming. He has a gash on his head, hidden by his silver hair and he skinned his shoulder/arm. He's a mess.

Was he using his walker? Nope. 85 year old toddlers cannot be told what to do. Or rather, they can be told what to do, they simply won't comply. Ever. In fact they get down right angry and throw fits. It's not pretty.

His physical therapist came to the house the next day and strongly told him to use his walker EACH TIME HE STOOD UP. Has he? Nope. Nyet. He was very angry with me yesterday because I kept asking him to use his walker. Also, I asked him i…



Back on the horse
Monkey on his back
I see no light
Not even a crack
Back to delusions
Back to the lies
I see through his words
He can't hear my cries

Back into his soul
Back into his veins
The poison he pours
Dark liquid his chains

Backed into a corner
Heartbroken and torn
Back into the needle
The eye of the storm

Back to the wall
Soul bruised torn and broken
Back to my pain
His eyes half open

Back into the horror
Will he ever come back
Back into the nightmare
A needle in a sack

Back into his childhood
I loved him with fury
Looking back on his life
His choices my jury

How did this happen
Back to evil and sin
How can he do this
Lines on his skin

Back to my weeping
Back to my sorrow
My son, my love,
Has no more tomorrows
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