Skip to main content


My first year of blogging was in 2006. I blogged 371 times that year.


I must have had an awful lot to say that year, as I blogged more than once. In 2007, I blogged 140 times, 2008, 186 and in 2009 121.

In the year of our Lord, 2010, I have blogged a total of...

Drum Roll Puhleeeeeeeese.....

46 times.

I said...46 times. With this post it will be 47 in total.

Now, either I had nothing to say this year (which is laughable for those that know me) or I was otherwise occupied. Or it may just be that I didn't know how to put into words what was going on in my life.

Sometimes the latter was very much the case.

As I sit here in our newly finished basement family room/bedroom and watch my 14 year old play piano, I am content. We haven't had a piano for her to play on since we moved here 3+ years ago and it has grieved me. My in-laws send me birthday money each year so this year I used it to purchase a piano so my children can once again make beautiful music. My three oldest play piano and guitar and when I listen to them my heart is happy.

Happy is good.

For Christmas this year we purchased a Kindle for each of our children. I am thrilled to see them so excited about reading and finding new books and filling their minds with new ideas and adventures. They each have the scriptures on their Kindles plus books they are in the process of reading.

Reading is good.

Family can be the most joyous and the most irritating part of life. For the most part this year, it has been joyous, with a few bumps along the way. Friends may come and friends may go, but your family is forever. As I watch my children struggle through the vicissitudes of teenage-hood and young adulthood, I am reminded that to struggle is not always a bad thing. It helps you grow, painful as it may be during the process. We learn from our trials. We mature. We grow.

Growing is good.

As 2010 draws to a close (only 6 more hours left) I want to express my gratitude for the blessings in my life. For my family, my friends (you know who you are!) For those that are my friends on facebook, for that have unfriended me on facebook (thank you!) and for those that I first met when I began this blogging adventure and have stayed with me all these years. They are, in no particular order, Vicus, Tom (are you still out there Tom dear?), Mike, Richard, Suicide Blond, ,Donn, Kelly and Dave. You were the bloggers I connected with in the beginning. There were others that I met along the way but you are the ones that have stayed with me even on Facebook.

And for those that reach my blog by searching for The Infatuation Monster (which is how 90% of my readership arrives here), thank you for reading.

Happy New Year to you all. May the coming year bring you peace, jobs for those that are seeking, weight loss for those weight-lossing, travel for those who need to get away from it all (you know who you are), and love.

See you on the flip side!


  1. Happy new year to you and yours.

  2. Merry Newwww Yeahhhh!!!! Felicidades, here's some grapeages for ya n stuff :)

    Some of us folks have known ya Wayyyy before FB n bloggin were around ::tryin to twirl her hair but failin b/c it's too short::::

    LOL--You're AWESOME, Pammers, always have been, ALWAYS will be--and even though we're on separate coasts n stuff, tu eres mi amiga para siempre :) Period. The end. :)


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)