Spousal abuse: Not a joking matter whether the victim is male or female

I find it so incredible offensive that today’s news that Tiger Woods may have been the victim of domestic violence has drawn out a host of “jokes”, as though the idea of a man being beaten or attacked by his wife or girlfriend is some how “funnier” than if he had hauled off and beaten her.

I think, instead, that if she DID attack him the fact that he left the house without retaliating should be commended instead of made the butt of jokes.

I remember years ago a talk show — I think it was the Phil Donahue Show– the topic was domestic abuse. There was sympathy and indignation about all the women’s stories about being abused. People were angry. A man got up and told how his wife had beaten him and he tried to get help from a shelter and from the police and no one would help him. The audience erupted in laughter…

Phil asked “Why are you laughing?”

One woman said “Well, really, he must have done something to deserve it…”

How many times has an abused woman heard that over the years?

No one deserves being beaten by a spouse.

In my case, the police rolled up while he was smashing my head against the pavement on a public street. Had I been a total stranger to him, or even a nodding acquaintance, they would have arrested him. We were living together so I was the one who ended up in the back of the cruiser being escorted to the police station to be picked up by family.

I waited for an hour at the police station with a woman who was wrapped only in a towel and who had a slash across her face.

Her boyfriend had locked her naked in the basement after slashing her face. It was three days before a passerby finally stopped and helped her (naked) out of the basement…. after she convinced him that there was not a good reason why she was locked naked in the basement.

The police could do nothing to help us beyond driving us to the station and allowing us to call relatives. We would have to go down to see a Justice of the Peace and swear out our own charges before the police could do anything.

I don’t know abut her. I just was thankful to be alive and was afraid of the consequences of charging him myself so did nothing. The police couldn’t protect me if he had come after me again.

Phil Donahue had an excellent opportunity to talk about men being abused and how, no matter who you are, abuse is abuse. He could have talked about how even then women had at least a FEW more opportunities than men did for protection. Instead, he let the matter drop.

If iot turns out that Tiger was beaten by his wife, I commend him for leaving instead of fighting back. I am thankful that she didn;t have a gun and that in fleeing he wasn’t killed hitting the hydrant.

Like any case of domestic abuse, the consequences could have been deadly.

PhotoHunter: Technology

This week’s PhotoHunter theme is “Technology”. I wasn’t sure what to do for this, at first but then I remembered having entered a photo of mine for the same theme on Fotki, the photo-sharing site I use. I thought I would use the same photo and contrast it with a photo of something else.

When I initially thought of this, I was looking at the images as contrasting “low tech” and the other as “high tech”. On the other hand, both are really representative of the highest technology of their times. In fact, the first photo, in its own way represents technological skill and true craftsmanship, whereas, the second represents brute force on the grandest scale.

Perhaps you will see other contrasts and other meanings. Let me know your thoughts.

The first image is of stone points, scrapers, and flakes from the making of points and scrapers. Created by Eastern Woodland Indians, perhaps 700 -900 years ago. Found along the Upper Ottawa River, near Fort William, Quebec.

Stone points

The second image is of one of the old Cold War air raid sirens sitting outside the main door of the Diefenbunker (pronounced Deefenbunker), in Carp, Ontario.

The Diefenbunker was Canada’s official government nuclear fallout shelter.

In the event of nuclear war, government officials and designated military personnel would have descended underground while the rest of Canadians fried. Formerly top secret, it is now a museum open to the public and is designated a national historic site. It was dubbed the Diefenbunker after Canada’s Prime Minister when it was built, John Diefenbaker (familiarly known to most Canadians as “Dief the Chief”). It operated as a secret facility for 33 years before it was “decommissioned” and the land sold to the Township of West Carleton, which is now part of the city of Ottawa.

Until it was decommissioned, the Canadian public, even residents of the nearby town of Carp were unaware of its existence. Interestingly, my friend Carol (who did earlier this year) was unaware that for the entire time she and her family lived in Ottawa, her father had spent every working day in the Diefenbunker and, should nuclear war have broken out, he would have been obligated to continue working while the family would have had to fend for themselves.

Siren, the Diefenbunker, Carp, Ontario

I should say that these sirens and the Cold War were what caused me nightly terrors and nightmares as a child living along the St. Lawrence River in Southeastern Ontario. I was small during The Cuban Missile Crisis. We had a bomb shelter in the basement — basically, a cot, cook-stove, and provisions under the basement stairs. We’d not have survived anything.

Sirens were tested with regularity and scared the crap out of me all those years.

Years later, in 1978, when I was living in Toronto one of the few remaining sirens went off, I am guessing by accident, and I sat bolt upright. The friend I was with looked at me quizzically. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Air raid siren… We don’t hear those very often any more!”

“What’s that?” Not only did she not recognize the sound she didn’t even HEAR it until I pointed it out. I had to EXPLAIN about the Cold War…. about air raids… about bomb shelters… She had never ever heard a siren in a war movie!

Tijuana Pie

I came across this recipe on a blog I visited (Jesus Has Two Daddies). Even if it tasted 1/4 as good as it sounds, it would be mighty delicious.  The blogger says that it was always a first-frost night meal when he was growing up. We’ve already had a month’s worth of frosts here in the Great White North, so perhaps I will save it for a first-snow night. And since making it for just Mom and me would be pointless, I will save it for a night when we have Ange and Ryan over.

If you try it before I get a chance to, let me know how it tastes.

TIJUANA PIE

1 1/2 lb. ground beef
1 medium-sized can refried beans
1/2 lb. spicy chorizo sausage – finely chopped.
5 large tomatoes sliced in big bite size pieces
8 Bell Peppers (all four colours: red, green, yellow and orange)
sliced into strips.
1 can smoked poblano chiles
1 onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. pepper
3-4 c. grated cheese
1 (10 oz.) can enchilada sauce
1 (8 oz.) tomato sauce
1 (16 oz.) can corn, drained
6 corn or flour tortillas (size depends on size of crock pot)

Brown beef, onion, garlic, and seasonings.

Wipe inside crock pot with oil. Place 1 tortilla in bottom.

Spoon on meat mix (mix the hamburger with the refrieds) – and a little sauce and cheese.

Top with another tortilla and layer on a bean, cheese and corn section.

Do a layer of nothing but fresh tomatoes and bell peppers.

Continue layers, ending with cheese top.

Cover and cook low 5-7 hours.

Serve with additional hot tortillas. (sour cream and guac feeding frenzy optional)

—-

As an aside, I thought I would pass along something that I saw at a restaurant and have been doing myself, ever since.

If you make Nachos, to avoid having to do a major cleanup on your pan, place a flour tortilla on the baking sheet before loading it up with your tortilla chips, toppings and cheese. Not only will you not have to scrub your pan but you can eat the tortilla and simply wipe down the pan.

Sausage-skin…

Elmdale House TA friend bought me this T for my birthday and I love it but haven’t actually worn it because it is too small (this was the lest horrifying photo of me in it). It is for my favourite tavern, The Elmdale House Tavern. I want to trade it in for a larger size but so far, they haven’t had any new stock in….

The Elmdale is where I like to drink my Beau’s Lug*Tread which is the beer which a previous T-Shirt Friday selection immortalizes.

T-Shirt Friday Participants: Az, Nicole, nursemyra, Sledpress,

Chat du jour

Mademoiselle Fifi (or Mlle. Paree)

via Shorpy

Mademoiselle Fifi was the chat du John Moisant who flew the English Channel. She flew with him (and his mechanic), being the first cat to cross the Channel by plane, I understand.

He later died in a crash near New Orleans. From what I can tell, Mademoiselle Fifi is dressed up for the funeral. I haven’t been able to confirm this but it looks that way, anyway. What a lovely kitty kat!

Google Wave?

Does anyone have a Google Wave invite going spare?

I am interested in trying it out but you can’t unless you are invited. Let me know.

Never mind… I just got one.

“A Day in the Life”

A day at the Child Haven home in Kathmandu, Nepal

Part 2

Child Haven International

A children’s charity helping destitute children

more about "Child Haven International", posted with vodpod

More family photos

My cousin, Dick, sent me some more family photos and a copy of my GG Grandfather’s discharge paper, today.

A scanned version of the birthday photo. I recently learned that there are at least three sets of family, the Comers, the Houchinses, and the Newmans. That would mean that there are at least three sets of GG Grandparents in the photo. I believe that aside from Elizabeth (nee Ellison) and Thomas Houchins (the couple extreme left, second row) and Joseph Baker Comer and Evangeline Comer (nee Smith), it is likely that the couple who are 2nd and 3rd on the left of the first row are Anna Mariah (nee Taylor) and John Owen Newman.  Further investigation may give me the couple on the far right end of the first row.

The Birthday Party

Below are Joseph B. Comer and Evangeline with their children, circa 1899.

Comer family

First row: Sarah Comer, Joseph Baker Comer, Evangeline Comer

Second row: Dessie Comer (Dickerson), Grant Comer, George Allen Comer, Mellie Comer (Houchins)

Harry and Jessie Houchins

Above, Harry and Jessie ( Currie) Houchins, my great uncle and great aunt. Harry was brother of my grandfather.

Discharge paper

PhotoHunter: Bird(s)

A day late and a dollar short… Well, a day late, anyway.

This week’s PhotoHunter theme is Bird(s). So, without further ado:

The reappearance of my sister’s Peach-faced Love Bird, Elvis. Sadly, Elvis isn’t the sexy boy he once was. He has taken to plucking out his feathers on his shoulders and back, leaving them bare.

Elvis

"Rigggghhhht"

"Rigggghhhht...."

These two lovely little fellows are older than I am (so… older than 53).  Once upon a time, there was a mother bird. However, she has long since disappeared. They would have been bought at this Swedish furnishings shop that I remember so well from the Hardy Arcade.

They  sat atop the piano for most of my life.

The one on the left is somewhat handicapped by his bent right leg and both are a bit scuffed but they are happy in their retirement home in the cabinet in my bedroom.

"Swedish Birds"

"Swedish Birds"

This last one is one of a series I took of a bird trapped between the glass and some plywood in the window of an abandoned building. Poor thing.

"Trapped"

"Trapped"

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