Enough: our women and our men are dying from abuse

It’s about time.

My life long I’ve been the kind of man who raised children well, from diapers to first school day, to first date, to first day of university, to wedding, baptism, ….

My adult life long I’ve been the kind man who ensured that my wife’s career as pastor was not only still possible even after she had our children, but that she would excel. And I was privileged to raise our children as the stay at home dad.

I’m the kind man who gives to give others a good life.

I’m agonized to have been too often a helpless bystander,

all too often as

abused women die at the hand of their trusted men.

All good people are also agonized to be so helpless.

I’m even more distressed as I’ve learned that our wise people have known for so long that

men abused by women die at their own hand.

This is so contrary to peace that we all seek for all.

Women abused by men die … at the hand of the man. It’s a psychological attack, and then a violent physical attack.

It’s about time we got so tired of abused women (our daughters and granddaughters, our sisters and mothers, our friends) dying at their man’s hand that we, as a whole village, do everything to finally stop it.

We’ve learned to recognize how and when the abuse of women starts and where it too often leads. We’ve learned and need to learn more. Now it’s time to do what we’ve learned about intervening, as a village.

Men abused by women die …at the hand of the man, manipulated so by the woman. It’s a psychological attack, and then a drawn out violent psychological attack.

It’s about time we got so very tired of abused men (our sons and grandsons, our brothers and fathers, our friends) dying at their own hand, manipulated so by their woman, that we learned that we must do everything to finally stop it.

It’s about time,

Because though our wise people have told us now for decades, we still do not want to listen and learn, we still do not know as a village how when a man dies at his own hand, that if his wife abused him at home, she has played a huge role in his death.

There is no excuse that we have not learned as a village, because only as a village can we bring this to an end, before it brings our brothers, sons, grandsons, fathers, grandfathers, and friends to their ends.

It takes a village to raise a child, starting with at least one parent, or grandparent or friend, who can love unconditionally.

It takes a village to keep everyone in the village safe, safe from the hidden causes of death, safe from those things that we do not want to know about, safe from the inconvenient truths.

You and I are members of the village, along with our sisters and brothers, fathers and mothers …

The other ignored truth, that is so agonizingly painful to recognize

is that when

a woman dies at the hand of a man, OR

a man dies at his own hand driven there by a woman

then the children are next …

The children are at danger of dying from the abuse in the same way.

40° … minus 40° or lower

The thermometer only goes to -40°. It was there well before sunrise this morning.

Frosted the view.

If something breaks it’s broke and I’m a gonner.

That’s the price of loving and always telling the truth, the inconvenient truth.

But the view, as long as you can stand to look, is wonderful.

Wish I had more time.

Sub Cold is so Cold

Sub Cold

There is a point

Beyond which one

Does not any longer

Need to make a point

About it being cold.

It is the definition of cold as one has experienced it.

It’s is Cold, – 35° right now and getting another 4° or 5° colder.

So at -40°

It is not about age,

It is about getting older, or at least hoping to.

Of course if you have a home with heating that works, and water that runs, and toilets, and beds, and a study, a kitchen and bedrooms and closets, and all the people and things that make it one’s living space, one’s home, then … well … then it is just another square tire morning after a night to stay home of have the right gear packed well in the car with a full tank of gas.

There is still beauty to see and enjoy and share:


Too much in the middle may just cloud the view or grab your interest.

A path may lead somewhere brighter … or

The journey past an oddity may be the better view.

Then again it may just be down the path that becomes a road that one may find the view one craves: clarity and hope.

And the view may turn out to be a bit of land and a bit of see the ice.


Usually the large picture view has more to tell and

Less that actually is of specific interest.


Whatever the view from your pillow, enjoy that you have a pillow.

Living is good.

Living and being less concerned that the cold will be a game ender is always something to celebrate.

And life is about enjoying having something to celebrate.

Free! Free at the Last.

Free! Free At Last
Like never before I am free.
Not the Martin Luther King Jr. kind; that would call for a celebration of great proportions.
This freedom is the Janis Joplin kind:
Freedom’s just another word for nothin’ left to lose ….
Starting this year with only my family and friends to lose.
What a way to live.
I brought in the New Year changing the oil on a borrowed truck. -28°C ! Had four hours to drive and no time to get it done earlier, nor could it wait until after the trip.
So in the dark, cold, numbness … at least the oil was warm, until it wasn’t and the engine was cool because it had not run for a bit.
And then the sleep time came well into the morning, with miles and miles to go again on New Year’s Day.
Back in the cold cold cold to a not-home.
The view is something, no horizon, nothing permanent, or hope-filled.

The path on the full moon morning leads down a ways.

After another night with the temperatures rising back to tolerable, this same view is just a bit different.

Freedom is variously not much, not much to lose.
A new year.
At the last, finally free.

But the moon is still bright, as bright as a clear cool night. Only -10 or so. Tolerable like lots of life.