An "Ask Auntie Lowan" Digression.

Setanta and DLowan
This recipe uses wimpy bread, but for a good reason:

http://www.able2know.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=16344&highlight=

BBB

my friend's dad hits him whenever he is really angry... about 5 months ago he pushed him down the basement steps... lately his mom has been standing up for him a bit more,but not stopping the hitting...
he cuts because of it
and told me if i tell anyone he'll kill himself... and he has 3 adopted siblings that would be taken away


should i tell anyone?

::the first page said to bring your problems... so thats my problem ::

I'll bet 5 bucks the bread was white. What is it about a lunberjack that will eat only effusive white bread? Does he aslo wear a bra.....work all night and sleep all day?

Yes, Innie - I think you should most definitely tell someone.

I would assume you have some sort of child protection/welfare authority? I would tell them - or a school counsellor?

I know it is scary that he is threatening to hurt himself if you tell, but it sounds as though his life as well as his psyche is in danger where he is - as, I would assume, are those of his adopted siblings.

I would tell any authority you contact about your friend's threat to hurt himself and his strong attachment to his adopted siblings as well.

If you also ask this question in the relationships forum, Innie, you will get many mor eresponses than you will here - I would make a new topic of it there, as well, so you get lots of responses.

This is an awful burden for you to be bearing alone.

i love the bunny.

So, BBB, are we all invited to brunch at your place????

Dang, Setanta just had to use a quote from one of my favourite ballads there in his sig. Now I feel like singing:

The Wind that Shakes the Barley

I sat within the valley green
I sat me with my true love.
My sad heart strove the two between
The old love and the new love.
The old for her the new
That made me think on Ireland dearly.
While the soft wind blew down the glade
and shook the golden barley.

T'was hard the woeful words to frame
To break the ties that bound us.
But harder still to bear the shame
of foreign chains around us.
And so I said the mountain glen
I'll meet at morning early.
And I'll join the bold united men
While soft winds shook the barley.

T'was sad I kissed away her tears
My fond arm round her flinging.
When a foe, man's shot burst on our ears
From out the wild woods ringing.
A bullet pierced my true love's side
In life's young spring so early.
And on my breast in blood she died
While soft winds shook the barley.

But blood for blood without remorse
I've ta'en at oulart hollow.
I've lain my true love's clay like corpse
Where I full soon must follow.
Around her grave I've wandered drear
Noon, night, and morning early.
With breaking heart when e'er I hear
The wind that shakes the barley

(lyrics as I learned them)

Waaaaahhh, sniff, sniff. That is soooooo sad, Cav. Please digress a little.

speaking of sad songs learned in childhood:

Oh don't your remember
A long time ago
There were three little babies
Whose names I don't know
They were stollen away
One bright Summer's day
And were left in the woods
So I heard people say

And when it was night
So sad was the sight
The moon had gone down
And the stars gave no light
They sobbed and they sighed
And they bitterly cried
And when they were weary
They laid down and died

And when they were dead
Three robins so red
Brought strawberry leaves
And over them spread
And all the night long
They sang a sweet song
To the poor little babes
Who were left in the woods.

This is a song my mother used to sing to me when she rocked me to sleep. Now, maybe everyone will have more sympathy for my strange disposition.

It is a very sad song, isn't it?

What, 'Rock-a-bye-baby' isn't scary, what with the bough breaks and the cradle-falling? My Jewish mother used to sing this to me as she rocked me to sleep:

"Don't grow up to be a rocker,
please grow up to be a doctor.
should you choose to disagree,
I'll guilt you till eternity."

It loses something in the translation from Yiddish. We compromised, as I went into the cheffing thing, and kept music as a hobby. At least she can still claim to have a son that wears a uniform.

I'd like to see head-to-head guilt competitions between Irish and Jewish mothers. Spectators must have a certificate from their analyst.

Since I'm Irish..........will being an analyst help?

No objectivity.....heehee...

thank you, you were very helpful:) i didnt pist it in the relationship forum.. and i have gotten many helpful replies. again, thank you.

You are welcome, Innie!

Good luck with the situation.

Cav, you've gotta tell Roberta your grandmother's song--she'll LOVE it.

I had two munchkins in my office yesterday who, at the end of the session, decided to debate whether I was an old lady or not.

"You're forty, aren't you"
No
"You're not OLDER than forty, are you???!!!!"
Yes
"She has to be an old lady!"
"But she hasn't got grey hair....and she doesn't SOUND like an old lady!"
Do old ladies have to have grey hair?
"Yes!"
What if they dye it?
Stricken silence - lost looks at each other.
"Your hair is mahogany, isn't it?"
It IS?!
"Yes."
"Am I an old lady"? asks the mother.
"No!!!!!"
Why?
"Cos you are still in your thirties!"
But I will be forty next year, will I be an old lady then?
Stricken looks....
"Maybe....."

From the mouths of babes....

I suspect, Deb, that you are ageless. People like you (and I) never get older. We just gradually fade away into the sunset, as it were. I still have the heart of a curly-haired sixteen-year-old lad. Now, if I could only remember where I hid the jar of formaldehyde that I keep it in.

Or, as the t-shirt says: old hippies don't die, they just smell like it.