More bullets...

• ·         Lay low… lay very low when Master is working on his taxes. 
• ·         When Master says that you should get a bucket and drill a hole in the bottom to water your new apple tree… it does NOT mean you have permission to touch his drill... or drill bits… who knew?
• ·         All one has to say is “my car acted funny when I tried to start it” and you automatically get a new battery and he is doing research on serpentine belts.
• ·         Saying… “It is eleven o’clock.  Have you fucked your bitch recently?” …can lead to some very rough and very satisfying sex.
• ·         It is heartening how a sunny day can brighten your whole outlook.
• ·         It’s funny how the rules at the grocery store never change.
• ·         When Master insists you call him Master in public… it makes your heart flutter.
• ·         I noticed the other day that my one year blogging anniversary came and went last month without me even noticing.
• ·         Dungeons and Dragons DM’ing is fun.  The story does not need to make sense.  The players will make it make sense.  Object too big to fit through door?  They will figure out how it got in there.  Monster did not eat the body?  They will decide that the monster was full, or vegetarian, or prefers its meat aged… or… players are just too fun to watch.  I am starting to create improbable scenarios just to see them find some absurd explanations.
• ·         Seeing your new granddaughter smile at you for the first time is pure magic.
• ·         You can make a really good salad with cooked barley.
• ·         My tomatoes are dying.  Something dug up the one of the four nasturtiums that did germinate.  My strawberries are happy.  My apple tree is still looking happy.  (Still crossing my fingers.)

Bullets

·         I have been writing posts… I really have.  One enlightening, amusing, thought provoking piece about an argument Master and I had… and got totally shut down by the thought police… ahem… um… censored by Master.  Too much dirty laundry I guess.

·         A couple of  very dense, seriously pissy pieces about work.  But I am tired of bitching about work on this blog.  Du’know why I have this bizarre expectation that my coworkers should like me or even be nice.  I just can’t find the policy manual where it says that.

·         I could complain about the weather, but after seeing Kaya’s last blog post, it would seem just shallow and whiny.

·         I have two or three new stories started but I am reluctant to put up something that I am not sure I am going to finish.

·         I did end up planting an apple tree.  I am very excited.  (My fingers are crossed.  I have such bad luck with things dying.) 

·         I also planted some strawberries and three tomato plants.  They are passively sitting there, squinting up at the damp, grey, cold rain, like the really cannot believe I am serious.  At least they are not dead.

·         Speaking about things dying… how come I planted two packages of flower seeds in starter pots… nothing fancy… just Nasturtiums and only four germinated?

·         And speaking of how come… how come Kashi Go Lean cereal is so vile that the squirrels and birds won’t even touch it in the feeder?  I have a secret plan to try and see if those nasty coworkers will eat it next.

·         I learned something new today.  Good sex, really good sex frequently ends with someone bleeding… and that someone usually is me.

·         I got tapped by the Eden Fantasy to do a toy review.  So I will have that to write about.

·         Master pronounced that I am not allowed to wear Mu-mu style dresses unless I grow horns and two more titties… le sigh… I am tempted to do it… extra titties and horns… I lub my mu-mu dresses.

·         Not a lot of deep thoughts about Master/slave relationships… I commented to Master that we have been doing this thing we do since 2008.  He argued that it hasn’t been that long and when I answered back (cannot help but answer back… excellent slave I am not) that was when it started but of course it was different back then… just a brand new baby wanna be thing but it has grown and evolved.  He interrupted (he is like that… always interrupting a profound pearl of wisdom.) that all relationships do the evolve and grow.  He is just that smart to steal my pearl of wisdom and play it off like it was all his idea.

One thing after another

So many things, many of them so small and fleeting as to be lost in the swell and rush of ongoing life… but they are important in their smallness.  In many ways they are the core of my reality.

Like the icy bite of cold as we walk from the store to the car and the way his arm feels warm and strong as I hold tight to it.  Or the way he communicates it is time to leave the second hand store by grabbing the back of my neck and abruptly shoving and steering me down the aisle and out the door… no words, just being taken and moved.  Somehow the sensation of that grip upon the back of my neck reduces me to jello. 

The sense of total happiness that comes from holding my brand new tiny granddaughter in my lap and she stubbornly holds onto sleep, deigning only to briefly open one eye and look at me for a second with that mysterious cloudy blue newborn eye and then takes a deep breath and lets out an audible sigh of satisfaction as she slips deeper into sleep.  

The way Master and I tend to laugh and laugh at the same silly things.  Last night he managed to stumble upon tentacle sex porn on the interwebs.  He had heard all along my tongue-in-cheek jokes about squids and tentacles when he pokes me with that evil flogger made from rubber jump ropes that I have named ‘the squid’, but he never really got the Hentai joke.  And the stuff he found on the internet was fake to the point of camp.  He and I were almost on the floor with hysteria at the improbable, patently fake rubber tentacles (often with the hand holding it inadvertently included in the shot) being clumsily poked at the girl that was clearly trying to assist the dead and limp things to attain some semblance of liveliness, while simultaneously trying to act (albeit badly) like she was struggling to escape.  But at the end I found out that part of the whole tentacle sex fetish seems to include about ten gallons of fake cum being squirted over the “victim”.  Yeck… not so much… did not know it involved drowning the girl in the end. 

And the other night, when I made a half hearted, somewhat comic approach to penis worship.  Master laughed and allowed me to try, but once again reminded me who is ultimately in charge of when and what goes on around here.  After he pushed me away from his stubbornly unresponsive penis, he laughed and referred to my kowtowing and over the top moans of enjoyment as “Peanut Worship”.  The slip of the tongue was so apropos that we both dissolved into laughter.

Fleeting moments strung together each distinct and as beautiful a crystal bead, one following the other, so easily overlooked, enjoyed and forgotten, like prayer beads, one slipping from my hand as the next finds its way into my palm.

Tangential...

Tangential...

Main Entry: parenthetic
Part of Speech: adjective
Definition: digressive
Synonyms: departing, detouring, differing, discursive, excursive, parenthetical, rambling, tangential

It seems like my mind has been all over the place this week...

I turned on the Sunday morning news and found out that somehow I had missed all the tragedy this weekend. I had gotten so burned out on the "new guys taking over the congress"... the one side of the aisle getting theirs from the other side. I am not a bit expert. I have not read the multithousand page bill that makes up the health care bill, but I must admit that I have always been of the belief that this country needs public health care. And I am sure that the current laws will need some (or a lot of) fixing. But I am of the definite opinion that we were finally going in the right direction when we got this far. It was disheartening to hear all the talk about repeal. I got sick of it. Every time I hear that fucking word "Obamacare" I want to kick the television over. I turned off the news.

And now, this morning I realized I have missed out on some kind of "big news". And strangely as I watch... some reporter tried to explain this act, this senseless act of murder to some kind of rage or protest because Congresswoman Giffords had supported the health care bill. It makes me sick all over again.

meh... so often the events and the manner that the media spins these events seem to conspire to make me flinch and look away and try to not think about it. It all makes me want to put my head in the sand.

Deep breath... and another one... lets look away... think of cheese.

Once a month Master gives me permission to attend a group of writers that meet. I am not totally in love with the group, but it is something to do outside of the house. They seem to have too much of their own agenda, too much drama with other peoples. But this month it totally disintegrated into two hours of back stabbing gossip about people I don't even know. And even when we do talk about writing, it is not about the kind of writing I am interested in. Exercises, poetry forms... it is less about what you are writing than about writing in general. I want to talk about what I am doing. I really need to find a different group.

Makes me wish Master was more open to having strangers come to our house. It would rock to have something here with a group of carefully selected writers. Wish I did not live on the periphery of this metro area.

Man... I am in a whiny mood. Speaking of bitchy... and cheese.

My darling, and totally perfect, and never does anything wrong ever Master... cough, cough, chokes on words. Smacks self up aside the head... has to move the vehicle he said he was going to dispose of years ago (I am forbidden to utter the word Volvo aloud in his presence.) ...from its parking space on the street to the somewhere on the lawn. The city finally is cracking down on derelict vehicles in our neighborhood. We really need to move to a trailer park... or out into the country where we can have our very own personal back field to park the dead cars on.

So right in the middle of writing this... at 6 fucking thirty in the morning I was directed to "put on some clothes, pretty girl. I am going to need your help." So in the dark and cold (at least it wasn't pissing down rain... just the normal everyday drizzle)... we were pushing dead little dirty white car and then towing and pulling and pushing that nasty little car to a new parking place on the lawn. And now, looking back... 6 fucking thirty in the morning is the ideal time if you think about it. We had the entire dead end street we live on blocked off. Any other time or day of the week we would have had to deal with traffic. I just hope we didn't wake up too many of our neighbors with him yelling at me to "go forward! STOP!" "what???" "PUT IT IN REVERSE!!!!" "what????"... Like I said earlier, we really need to move out to the country.

To give me credit, Master said I did good. I didn't ask questions. I didn't winge or complain or balk or whine. I was a good helper.

And totally cool cheese...

Master said yes to going to a local, kinky dress up event next weekend. I am all a'twitter. Not only to I get to wear some of those shiny, sexy, totally inappropriate things in my closet, but I get to dress him up too. Yum... I already ordered the leather vest from Amazon... and a pair of hand cuffs. Yes, definitely all a'twitter.

And other tangential shit...

The absolutely delightful television series "Firefly" that was doomed to be canceled by Fox after only thirteen episodes was airing nonstop on Ovation television all day yesterday. Master actually dusted off his guitar and spent some time figuring out the cords for the "Ballad of Serenity."

Cool song... cooler show. Shame it had to die so young. 

And there is something so sexy about Master playing the guitar.  Yum...

Well I have not been writing as much as I would like... too much time blogging... so you guys take care.

xantu, Master's pretty girl...

A very full week.

About a million things happened this last week. My sweet, darling and so very old parents flew in on last Monday night and just left this afternoon. It was a good visit. But again, they make me face mortality. Every time I see my Mom, she is just a little more forgetful and a little more absent... it is like she is already taking the first steps down that last highway.

But the visit was wonderful. We ate a ton... ten tons of delicious, fattening, decadent food. We drank a little to much and laughed and talked and just had a blast. Great grand daughter Livie was a star, sweet, funny, charming, cute and oh so good. We shopped and played games. I spent a ton of mommy and daddies money. Got a new vacuum, bought a mountain of new clothes for grand baby #2 who will be arriving early this spring (we're getting another girl... hells yes... girls rule).

We rented the movies, "The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo" and "The Girl That Played with Fire". They were both in Swedish with English subtitles. I very much enjoyed that because I did not have to turn up the volume to ear blasting levels for my mother and father who cannot hear. We could just read. The downside is Master, with his dyslexia cannot quite keep up with the reading and ended up wandering off. He also had not read the books and I think the movie is easier to follow if you had read them first. But I very much like the movies though. They followed the books pretty well, and the actors fit how I pictured them to be as I read. I would recommend them, but you really ought to read the books first.

Thanks giving was a huge success and I always get so many compliments and rave reviews for my cooking that it totally strokes my ego. The last of it is simmering on the stove as I write, rich broth and thick chewy homemade noodles. I can hardly wait for Master to wake up and I can eat.

I am back to work this week and holey moley, the crazy kids are loonier than you can imagine. But for some reason, I am not the slightest bit stressed. It was the weirdest thing, I was cleaning vomit, urine and fecal matter off a kid and the walls of the seclusion room after a particularly nasty psychotic temper tantrum. All my coworkers were totally grossed out and I was all business as usual.

It was nice to come home to an empty house this afternoon. I did a quick sweep, gathering up all the dirty towels and putting right all the things that the old people had put wrong. When Master got home, it was so right to be able to kneel and place my forehead on the floor between his feet. I had missed that a lot. He scolded me sharply for not having my collar and cuffs on... and actually gave me a little kick right in the ass as I scrambled to put them on.

Well he finally woke up. And the soup is amazing.

Eclecstacy

Nothing big, just a long series of little things. October is finally here. Livie's pumpkin plant that started out like this...



...turned into this...



And if you peer between the leaves you will find...



Livie already picked it and took it home. It was a great experience for all of us. There are about six other big pumpkins that will be ready to pick in another week. Dunno exactly what I will do with all of them... but I might put to test my father's theory, that if you leave something in the teacher's lounge it will get eaten.

****

I spent all afternoon doing battle with a nasty excel program. I finally think I have the bugs all worked out... but I do remember that near the end I sent an email to my boss telling him that if he finds me unconscious from beating my head on the desk... DO NOT RESUSCITATE.

****

I have started a new resolution. Everyday when I get home, I set the oven timer for one hour. I do NOT sit down for one hour. I do house slave crap... laundry, cleaning, cooking... work, work, work. Master found me making a nice big pot of clam chowder for dinner. I was so absorbed in my busy bee mind set that I did not promptly kneel down... mannn when I finally got round to it... the spanks were not happy spanks. Yike, yike, yike. The soup was nummy though.

Hopefully this new resolve to get something done around this dump will result in a neater nest. (Lucky for me that controlling bastard does not automatically equal neatnick or clean freak... Master seems just fine with the clutter and cobwebs).

****

I am slowly but surely making a spreader bar. Master has uncharacteristically been hands off with my little project. When I get done with it... I will post a pic.

****
I posted the last two chapters of Demon Child on Lierotica, I will put up the more intense alien abduction thing I have been writing lately on the "what is she writing now" page pretty soon.

****

I found this thing on youtube. I really don't know who this Osho guy is... or if I even really agree with everything he says, but somehow this thing sort of tickled me, his accent, the way his hands move... warning it is kinda long but I enjoyed listening the whole time.



And love making is sort of magical at times... as long as there isn't too many vegetables involved.