Skip to main content

Field Trips of Death

Last thursday I willingly, and with foresight, climbed aboard a little yellow bus, crammed with forty or so 1st graders. We went to the zoo.

What was I thinking?

Before leaving, I took all the drugs I could lay my hands on medications I was safely allowed to consume in order for my spinal column to function in a manner consistent with life.

We were greeted at the bottom of first of roughly half a billion stairs the steps by this gorgeous creature. It was at first admired, then feared by the little macho men who thought they could chase it. It went on the attack and scared them half to death. This elicited giggles from me which, being the serious adult that I am, were muffled behind my hand.

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

This little jewel is the reason I risked life and limb to go on this field trip. She so dearly wanted me to come, and despite her sister's best attempts at being sick, I managed to make it.
Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

First we went to the fish place. I'm sure they have a clever name for the place, but I was too busy doing the huffing and puffing to be able to read signs.
Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

All the children were able to put their little hands on some slimey sea creatures and they loved it.
Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Then it was time for lunch. Other, better mothers, packed their children nutritious lunches. I bought mine a lunchable.

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

And still she survived. Amazing.


  1. We hear so many tales about the selfishness of young people. I was touched by your tale of care and maturity. To think that children so young should give up their free time to take a drug-addled old crone for a therapeutic day out is the heart-warmiest story I have heard all morning. And I have been up for nearly 7 minutes. God bless America.

  2. Sometmes we do have our moments, and Pam seems to take on extra duty in providing them = hear hear!

    Guess I won't be posting photos of the intern's drunken trip with our staff then . . . .

  3. And you were sweet like Ashley once. This world is truly a cruel place.

  4. I was sweet like she was before I became mixed up with some British wankers.

    After that, it's all a blur.

  5. I'm a service project all on my very own.


Post a Comment

Go ahead....tell me the truth :)

Popular posts from this blog

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
(all rights reserved)