The truth is I wanted to write a blog about my fears and inadequacies as a parent. Sami is coming home tomorrow and I am scared to death. It is a lttle frightening that the Drs. have come to the same conclusions as I iniatially had...There are still questions in my mind. Uncertain and afraid my first instinct is to circle the wagons. I will be starting a project in a couple of weeks that will take me out of my home office and into the clients office 3 days a week and I am worried about Sami. I will put her into an intensive outpatient program. I will give her the homeschool schedule from Hell. I am going to have her volunteer, at least one day a week, across the street from the office where I'll be.

Mostly, I will be praying because I know from experience that there will be moments that she will have to be trusted and I can not make all her decisions for her. I say it a lot I believe it completely...My children are in the hands of God...

I wanted to talk about Sami, but I am going to talk about her to Drs and Samis sponser and maybe to my friend Richard. So I decided I will distract myself as always and write another blog tonight about sex.

My lover has become my best friend
From the moment that our souls began to blend
He gave me the rainbow of his unfinished dreams
and I let go of the shadows of my sad memories


My history is haunted by his ghosts.
His angels guard my future very close
I traded my demons all away
then his demons came home with me to stay.


Whenever I hurt he feels my pain
I will stay since the thread is not a chain
And we will dance together for all time
The demons and ghosts with his love and mine

I do not know.
I may not care
I was not happy
standing there

I cannot run
I will not hide
I felt naked
stripped of pride

I was not certain
I never will be
There is no lesson
that I can see

I saw my heart
I watched her fall
I could not catch
her after all

I heard the music
in the background
I still remember
that evil sound

One half of a heart
Is not beating true
When the dark half
belongs to you

I must forgive
I will forget
the fear and pain
but not just yet...

They called her the winter rose.
She lived in defiance,
Until she died in the snow.


The lonely rose was plucked from the ground.
Do not mourn her death by human hands.
She only loved when she was found.


They called her the wicked rose.
She lives in desperation,
More beautiful than she knows.

I just checked my email on my way out the door and I couldn't resist posting this from my friend Chris......As long as someone somewhere plays the Hockey Pokey....Harry still lives on...



"With all the sadness and trauma going on in the world at the moment, it is worth reflecting on the death of a very important person, which almost went unnoticed last week."

"Larry LaPrise, the man that wrote "The Hokey Pokey" died peacefully at the age of 93. The most traumatic part for his family was getting him into the coffin. They put his left leg in. And then the trouble started. "