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CIT at home

Ashley keeps her cast on no matter what and I was concerned that she would be more frustrated than usual---but things worked out wonderfully today.

Her friend Kiera invited her to go a movie with her and her mom. I was a bit concerned because she can't quite manage going to the bathroom by herself yet. I anxiously awaited a frantic phone call, but none ever came.

Ashley came home from the movie in an incredibly wonderful mood. She had a great time and even managed to eat some popcorn! Yay Ash!

Lance and I watered the yard and the garden this morning. My father left town yesterday and headed south with his truck and trailer, so the yard duties fall to us while he's gone. We picked some zucchini, tomatoes, blueberries, blackberries and plums.

We have some spinach as well. I intended to make some pizza dough and then make several kinds of pizza; spinach and tomato with white sauce, one with sauteed zuchini and onions from the garden and then one with ham and pineapple. However, I wasn't feeling too well most of the day so we decided to do the pizzas tomorrow when I'm (hopefully) feeling better.

Lance didn't work today so he decided he'd barbecue some chicken and make mashed potatoes (per Ashley's request) We ate outside and Ash had a bit of trouble holding her utensils to eat. No matter, she simply put face to plate and took care of business.

Tonight she's at an outdoor movie with her Daddy. One on one time with her daddy is rare because of his work schedule and she's drinking up every minute of it. And me? I'm supposed to be working on the church newsletter, but the printer at church isn't working so there's really no point.

I think I'll go curl up with a book.


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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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