Skip to main content


Since it's Saturday, I've been singing a song to the girls (the older two are up in Seattle spending the weekend with friends).

Saturday is a special day, it's the day we get ready for Sunday...we clean the house and we shop at the store....

So in preparation for scouring and cleaning, Ashley attached several bottles of Febreeze to the pockets of her jeans so she would look the part. I'm not entirely certain just how much cleaning she's got done, but she certainly looks cute standing in the master bathroom, ready to work.

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

I'm writing and cleaning. I spend half an hour working on my book, half an hour cleaning. It's working so far.

Thursday I spent five hours at the Thurston County Sheriff's office poring over boxes and notebooks and photos of the crime I'm writing about. I found out more than I ever wanted to know about evil and barbarity in a monster's heart. I've lived in compartive innocence regarding the depravity of the criminal mind.

So, while I clean today and prepare my home for the Sabbath, I will try to cleanse myself of the darkness as well in order to enjoy the sweet uplift of spirit that the sabbath brings me.


  1. I'm doing that today too. :) I'm doing the 45/15 thing. Think about cleaning for 45 minutes, blog for 15. HA just kidding.

    Mine is working for me, too. Gotta love the time limit approach.

  2. I sympathize with you Pam. I've had more than my fill of what people can do to friends, spouses, children and sometime just people they don't know.

    Sometimes the only way you get through it is just think that there's got to be someone good out there for every bad one, and there's times that not even that seems to be enough.

  3. Was not yesterday -- Friday -- going to be a difficult day for you? Or am I in a time warp?

  4. TMM, I do love the time limit thing. It works for me and it usually works for the children as well.

    Front-I know what you mean. There are things out there that I'd really rather not know about.

    WW, yes, it was supposed to be Friday, but they rescheduled to Thursday instead. It was a long five hours of reading and going over files and photos. I felt bruised inside after I'd finished. I do not know how police officers and true crime writers can immerse themselves in this horror constantly and be able to shake if off at the end of the day.


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

I'll Love You Forever, I'll Like You For Always...

I rely on the kindness of strangers...

Or not so much strangers as readers of my miserable blog.

I received a beautiful card in the mail from my long-tine reader (perhaps my ONLY reader) that lifted my heart. Thank you, G. Parkes. It was kind of you to think of me. Seriously---you are so sweet. Thank you.

Perhaps we can meet in person one day. I'll be in Utah after Conference. We'll see how it goes.

I've been caring for my autistic grandson since July. It seems longer sometimes---and that's not a complaint. I adore this little man. He holds my heart. He fills my arms and my heart in the way that my own small babies used to do. When mine reached the age where they didn't want to be in my arms any longer, I felt their absence. Their absence from my arms was heavier than actually having them in my arms. It was an ache that is difficult to describe, a phantom pain where something once was but now is no longer.

Before my husband and I went to the cabin th…

I'm Sick. And the election isn't helping.

I spoke too soon about feeling better. My grandson was delightful enough to share his virus with me, so I've spent the past five days losing everything from both ends. It hasn't been pretty.

As a weight loss program though...

At least one end of me has stopped spewing. Now I wait for the other end to stop pretending to be filled with hot lava and erupting without much notice. Sorry, this is what is called over-sharing. Apparently I'm very good at it. You're welcome.

Last night I walked around the block with hubby and our adorable puppy. It was the first time I've been out of the house in five days. It was lovely, even though I was very shaky. Today I actually tried to accomplish something. I sat at my jewelry table, moved my seaglass around. Picked up pieces and played them through my hands. Such beautfy that came from something considered useless garbage and tossed away. I love my sea glass. It gives me the happies.

I also had a severe case of J…