"Woman imprisoned by father writes about childhood trauma"

From JSOnline:

Mike De Sisti

As a child, Lisa Lee Swanson-Solberg’s family made the news in December of 1974 after her father imprisoned them all inside their Mount Pleasant home for nearly a year. Now, she she has written a book that explores that painful time.

Jim Stingl | In My Opinion 
E-mail


"Lisa Lee Swanson-Solberg's family made the news in December of 1974 after her father imprisoned them all inside their Mount Pleasant home for nearly a year.  
 
"Hermits, the headlines called them, a hurtful name that followed Lisa when she returned to school.
 
"For Lisa, then 12 years old, it was but one ugly chapter in a childhood of familial violence, sexual assault and insecurity that spilled into her adult life in the form of post-traumatic stress disorder and depression.

 "Now she has written a self-published e-book exploring her difficult past, and she has created a website to build awareness about child abuse through painful revelations from her own life.

 "'To me, my parents shattered my emotions, they took away my sense of self and caused me to have issues that I'll have to struggle with for the rest of my life. But I also feel they'd also suffered greatly and many things contributed to why they became like they did. I think it's very important for all of us to take a look at our behavior and become more educated in the prevention of abuse,' she writes on the site.

 "Now 53 and living in Racine, Lisa has turned her open sore into an open book. Titled 'Layers,' the short e-book is written as a semi-fictional love story between her and a man who harbored a secret from his own past.

Read more:  http://www.jsonline.com/news/milwaukee/woman-imprisoned-by-father-writes-about-childhood-trauma-b99565646z1-323322161.html


That's what I should do.

"Cheers as wine o’clock added to dictionary"

From: The Oxford Times:

Amused: Manager of the Oxford Wine Café George Sandbach outside OUP in Jericho

"THINGS are looking rosé for wine drinkers who are celebrating the corking decision to add 'wine o’clock' to the Oxford English Dictionary.
 
"Oxford University Press has announced that wine o’clock is one of a variety of new words that have been added to OxfordDictionaries.com.

"It is now officially defined as 'an appropriate time of day for starting to drink wine'.

"The decision was welcomed by George Sandbach, manager of the new Oxford Wine Café in Jericho, which will open next month.

"Mr Sandbach said he was not surprised that wine o’clock was being added to the dictionary because he saw people using it all the time on social media.

"He said: 'I think it’s quite amusing, although it’s always wine o’clock here. It was only a matter of time before it was added.'

"The new Wine Café is scheduled to open on the corner of Little Clarendon Street and Walton Street in three weeks.

"Other words added to the online dictionary today include ‘hangry’ (angry due to a lack of food), as well ‘Brexit’ and ‘Grexit’ (potential British and Greek exits from the EU)."

Read more: http://www.oxfordtimes.co.uk/news/13628293.Cheers_as_wine_o___clock_added_to_dictionary/


Really?  Really?  When is Shot and a Beer O'clcok?

Friday, August 28, 2015

Four for Fridays

Hello everyone and welcome back. Just been busy with work and helping Tender Heart out these days. Anyways, your questions....

1) When was the last time you went swimming?

2) Want reruns do you get tired of watching?

3) Were you afraid of monsters when you were a child?

4) What object do you most often misplace?

Enjoy your weekend!

Thursday, August 27, 2015

This is pure joy!

As grown ups, we need far more of this, 
and way less negativity in our lives!
The next time it rains, I challenge you to go out and enjoy it!

Dear Madame Zoltar



Madame Zoltar's blog won't appear today because she is nursing a colossal hangover.  She hopes to sober up, I mean, feel better, next week.

Butt


At the JTI get togethers, we usually drink a buttload of booze.

A POEM


 A POEM TO WHICH I CAN RELATE

           I remember the bologna of my childhood,
           And the bread that we cut with a knife,
           When the children helped with the housework,
           And the men went to work not the wife.

           The cheese never needed a fridge,
           And the bread was so crusty and hot,
           The children were seldom unhappy
           And the wife was content with her lot.

           I remember the milk from the bottle,
           With the yummy cream on the top,
           Our dinner came hot from the oven,
           And not from a freezer or shop.

           The kids were a lot more contented,
           They didn't need money for  kicks,
           Just a game with their friends in the road,
           And sometimes the Saturday flicks.

           I remember the shop on the corner,
           Where cookies for pennies were  sold
           Do you think I'm a bit too nostalgic?
           Or is it....I'm just getting  old?

           Bathing was done in a wash tub,
           With plenty of rich foamy suds
           But the ironing seemed never ending
           As Mama pressed everyone's 'duds'.

           I remember the slap on my backside,
           And the taste of soap if I swore
           Anorexia and diets weren't heard of
           And we hadn't much choice what we wore.

           Do you think that bruised our ego?
           Or our initiative was destroyed?
           We ate what was put on the table
           And I think life was better enjoyed.

           Author, Unknown

Monday, August 24, 2015