I heard the thunder and ran to open my windows. I switched off the lights and radio and sat in the dark quiet under my window. The recorded music could wait, the real performance was starting. Mother opened with a cool crips waft of air and soon the percussion was in full swing. Her orchestra played far into the night then faded into a light drizzle. I left my windows open that night in case of an encore.

An emotional toothache; an ever present, ever tender, hightened sensitivity that brings a unique hurt to the roots of being, roots desperately needed to feed self esteem. A gnawing , growling, cursing hunger that lingers unfed whilst other mundane obligations are begrudgingly met. A sulking jealousy that lingers near the doorframes of success, a peripheral reminder of that which is most longed for and not yet achieved. A childish will that strains against the confines of being denied,… Continue

I stomped around the room with my hands balled into white knuckled fists and my arms held stiff at my sides. A choke sprang to my throat and I willed it back down. How tightly I held my face, my lips pursed I felt my teeth against the soft tissue of my inner cheeks; I bit down firmly and willed myself to feel the physical pain over the emotional. I held my eyelids shut against their will , my nostrils turned outwards and upwards, to help with the heavy breath that was fighting its way into a… Continue

"The baby" was coming and mother was enjoying the attention she got from the ladies in our church's basement. We were playing "guess Pam's favourite" and my six year old hand had trouble writing the answers as fast as they were asked.



"What is Pam's favourite flower" - daisies; What is Pam's favourite colour? - yellow; What is Pam's favourite dessert? - Banana cake...



I wrote down all twenty answers in my childish scribble. I could hardly believe this was a game, because I… Continue

The cliche of the void for the hole in my soul has come to be cliche for a reason.
My mind builds a wall , my will keeps it strong, but my heart continues at treason.
The longing for love is a malingering need, and my mind knows my heart is just teasing.
I'd have to know what I want before I get what I want, so there's no use in trying to please me.

I woke to the sound of my mother sobbing, which was scary but not unfamiliar, but it was the urgency of her pleading that plucked my attention and caused me to stay awake. I heard a click, then my mother scream... and then more hysterical sobbing, "Please don't do this". I can't remember his words .... the exact words are so unclear, but the trailer was dead silent when usually music would be blaring during an argument. Dead silent but my mothers muffled cries and another click.



I… Continue

What I remember most is being terribly terribly afraid. Driving down the old paved 2-lane highway in the middle of the countryside, plants and tree limbs slapping against the side of the old rickety Jeep Cherokee. I sat in the passenger seat , so small, so afraid. I was trembling. I remember my dad asking me if I was cold and when my teeth chattered yes he took off his own flannel shirt and gave it to me to wear as a coat. So with the windows of the old jeep broken ( a small fender bender the… Continue

So I have 2 young strapping Norwegian men ( age 21, both of them) in my house, Friends from across the sea.

It's wonderful to meet them after playing the same online game for 3 years together. I must say were I just a little younger..... ( did I mention they are handsome). They have been wonderful guests, my boys have enjoyed wrestling with them and finally someone beat my husband at Halo ! I am amazed at how much like us they are ( not sure what I expected ) and I get bemused watching… Continue

I was young once I suppose. I've carried so many loads over the years , bucketloads of secrets, armfuls of responsibilities , crates of shame and guilt. Like so many others who toil , my shoulders have become broad and my back is strong. I throw the next sack of burdens into my cart without looking and deliver them obediently to the next stop in my journey. I've stopped hoping that my load will be lightened when I get there. I just wish I could remember what it felt like...to be free.

Okay, so words are difficult for us. We both are going through some major changes of personal nature and as we strive to redefine ourselves, we are grasping and reaching so that we don't lose one another in this whirlwind of emotional upheaval. The last thing I want is to wake up a better person only to find that the person I love the most has been left behind. We try to talk, to shout, to make ourselves heard over the cacophony of others who are in our lives, whether we want them there or not.… Continue

I've had a ruckus with my neighbor. Apparently my dog can breath in her yard and this causes her great distress. Also, my grass is too long, I have weeds along my fence, my dog poops too much and my front door doesn't match the rest of my house. I wonder sometimes if these things cause her to lose sleep at night. I feel sad for her that these are the problems she chooses to concern herself with but I'm tired of being bullied by her and her expectations. Please god, help my neighbor find peace… Continue

All my life it's been said of me, "She speaks so well." In every job I've ever held, I've been promoted due to my ability to communicate with others and to "create understanding between previously hostile parties." My friends come to me not only because of my talent for keeping secrets, but also because I'm able to listen to what they say and ask them questions that help them clear the muddy waters of thier own troubled thoughts. So why is it that I struggle to have a simple conversation with… Continue

What am I going to do with myself? I pulled through McDonalds this morning for breakfast only to find the tallest , cutest, doe-eyed , curly haired, half shaven, hopefully legal man-boy taking my money and delivering my food. Instantly, I smiled at him and made chit chat, while my mind took me to a naughty afternoon romp in which I instructed this young man in all the things that women like. Almost as instantly though I scolded myself and reminded me harshly that this dreamy young man was… Continue

I miss Michelle. Well, I want to miss her but the truth is I feel guilty because I don't miss her much at all. The real Michelle seldom shows her face anymore, and when she does , it's painful to see how damaged she's been by her illness. Her illness has damaged us all in fact, but I try hard to remember that it is she who suffers the most. We sent our daughter to live with her grandparents, because our family couldn't bear... I couldn't bear the oppression of living at the mercy of Michelle… Continue