Month: June 2018

There’s something to be said…

Reading Time: 3 minutes
 


…about concentration and being able to do so under pressure.  Case in point.  Right now it’s 1:30 am and I have to be on the road in about 8 1/2 hours.  For the most part yesterday I ran errands and did a fair number of things around the house that should have been done in the last couple of weeks, but being me,  I always wait until the last minute.  Sometimes the very last minute.  But I managed to get most of them accomplished.  Suffice it to say the hedges in front of the house are now trimmed back to a more aesthetically pleasing level, the lawn is mowed and trimmed in all the right places and finally, I got the marigolds and impatiens planted in the beds in the front of the house.  Yes, I know they should have been planted about a month ago.  Hush.  This evening the wife and I had soup and sandwich for dinner because that was inherently easier than cooking anything else, and we’d already dropped a good amount of cash at the grocery store earlier in the day, and that basically was part of what we shopped for.  The rest was frozen food for her to have while I’m away and some other bits and pieces of the puzzle so she can survive while I’m out of the local picture for the next few days.  After that, a little chatting with my girl, then I headed upstairs to pack not only my clothing but more importantly my toybag.  Just coincidentally, it was still packed from when I went to visit my girl back last November, so I needed to remove all that stuff, catalog what I had, list what I needed to bring this time, and pack that.  Made a list of what I needed to have in other items, packed both my bags and set them aside for today.  There are other things that I can pack in the morning, like my pillows, my CPAP machine and a few other odds and ends.  Yes, the cookies too.  A damn good thing I don’t like macadamia nuts or those 4 dozen cookies would be halfway gone.

While I was out and about this morning, I happened to spot a vintage automobile, and it just so happened to park at a place across from where I was getting my lunch.  Fortunately, I had my phone with me and got a picture of it from the back.  The funny thing about this area is, there’s a fair amount of people here that own Ford Edsels.  Honestly, I’d never seen one in person before I moved here.  I can’t really imagine why they never caught on when they originally were for sale.  They’re a really handsome car when you think about it.  At least I think so.  Btw, that’s not an Edsel, I was just musing on the fact this place is lousy with them.

The closer you get…

Reading Time: 3 minutes

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…the more harried you become.  At least that’s how it is with me.  It’s now 3-4 days until I blast off on my meeting with my girl and I’m (as usual) no closer to being ready.  Quite coincidentally,  there’s a visit happening here at the house the week following my sojourn south, and with the house here being it’s usual wreck /craphole/disaster area less than idyllic clean situation, there’s things to be done in the interim.  Though I’m not further along in getting them done either.

I’m a procrastinator.  Always been one, probably always will be.  Certainly much to the chagrin of both my wife, my girl, and as I recall, my parents.  I just never have seen the urgency of getting things done on time, or getting to appointments on time.  Don’t get me started on the getting to work on time issue.

Speaking of procrastination, I slipped this baby into the draft column and only now (3 days later) have I pulled it back out and given it some love.

Last night I baked cookies for my girl to take with me on my trip tomorrow.  At least that’s done!  Today is for going to the chiropractor so I don’t have to worry about back pain for the remainder of the week (I hope!)  getting some planting done outside, and turning over some flower/vegetable beds so the wife can plant things that should have been in the ground a couple weeks ago.  Sometimes you have to get the one with muscles to do the bull work, even though I’ve been tinkering with the Troy-Bilt rototiller over the last week or so.  Some things are even beyond a 40 yr old bit of machinery.  So I’ll break out the garden fork and get cracking on that when I get home.  Then it’s back inside to wage war on the piles of stuff I should have done back over the weekend.  Wish me luck!

I’m going to probably need it.  Packing I won’t do until either tonight or tomorrow morning.  At least I have my list started!

Baking for my babygirl

Reading Time: 3 minutes

Countdown to blastoff for seeing my girl is down to a little under 33 hours.  One major request she wanted for our meeting was me to bake her some of her favorite cookies.  Apparently she has a big thing for macadamia nuts.  Figures she’d pick a nut that was astronomically expensive.  But, it’s a nice gesture on my part and after all, I worked in a commerical bakery for 12 years, might as well put my meager skills to good use.  Like with all things, I’ve been procrastinating on this, but at least in this case for good reason.  The recipe I’m using has a shelf life of about 5 days unrefrigerated, and I don’t intend to freeze them just to eek out a day or two extra.  I’d rather she have them as fresh as I can get them to her, and still be able to get sufficient sleep the night before I leave.

 

Granted, we don’t have commerical grade equipment here for our cooking and baking purposes, for the most part its things that have been cobbled together from 2 distinct households, along with many other doodads and things collected over the course of our nearly 25 year marriage.  The one thing I’m most grateful to have is my MIL’s old Kitchen-Aid mixer.  Damn thing won’t die thank goodness.  It’s one of the really old models, before Hobart decided to add a hinge on the main drive part so you could swing the head back in order to clean your beater/paddle/whisk easier.  Considering at the bakery I worked at, we had gigantic versions of this mixer, I’m very comfortable using a spatula to clean the paddle, or even my hand as I used to do the same thing eons ago.  Even so, I’m extra careful not to have the mixer plugged in while I’m fiddling with the bowl, I’ve heard some rather unsavory stories about what happens when people’s appendages or digits meet an ornery piece of mixing machinery, there’s a reason they call people ‘Lefty’ way back when…or even more currently.

Start to finish, the recipe called for about 2 1/2 hours.  I think that it came out almost that long, but adding in cooling time and cleanup, it ended up being a bit longer than that.  Certainly having to chronicle this (and figure out the layout for the pictures) took more time as well, since it’s now about 2:15 am EDT.  Headed up to bed in a few minutes, as I have a crapload of things to do today, because yet again, I’m a procrastinator.  But I have cookies!  4 damn dozen!  I think someone is going to be appreciative…if not full in due time.  Nighty night.

Gearing up

Reading Time: 5 minutes

So here we are, less than a week before my pet and I are due to meet again.  The last time we met, it was November of 2017 and the first time for both of us…well, the first time that we met one another, I’ve done this multiple times, with different partners, it was a first for her, on several levels.  Granted, our dynamic has shifted a bit since then.  Confused?  That’s ok boo, we’re all confused in one way or another.

To paraphrase another post, “it’s been a long road, getting from there to here.”  7 months (and a couple weeks) to be exact.  Lots of angst, conversations, video chats, phone chats, packages zipping back and forth through the mail, trying to keep in contact, to keep things fresh, maintain the connection and the whole ball of wax.  It hasn’t been easy for either of us and the time apart has been pretty hard, I have to admit.  Honestly I think it’s been harder for her, since she doesn’t have someone to come home to, to rely on, to talk to about her day when she does come home.  Too, she’s moved away from what was her quasi ‘comfort zone‘, but I have commend her for making the move, since she did it for two reasons really.  One, to get away from a situation that was literally driving her up the wall, and two, to be closer to me.  Think about that.  That’s huge.

Of course, it hasn’t been without it’s own headaches, but we’ve been trying to weather them as they arrived.  Physical ailments, bouts of loneliness, a less than supportive roommate, the whole nine yards.  There’s been times when she’s wanted to chuck it, and go back to where things are easier, but I’ve tried to counsel her and bring a little logic to her thinking, letting her know that even though it’s hard, she’s in it for the right reasons, and she has a goal in mind.  Going backward isn’t going to accomplish it, so she needs to forge ahead.  Yes, it’s a sacrifice, yes it’s going to be hard, but in the end, it’s worth it, because of the goal that she wants badly.  It’s something we both want, and need to continue to work for.  Ech, sorry for the sideways tangent…but it needed to be said.

Getting back to what I was originally talking about.  Gearing up for the coming week.  Well, there’s a lot to do before I hop in the car and drive south.  And as usual, your intrepid chronciler puts it off to the last minute.  Ace Procrastinator, at your service!  I put in for the vacation almost a month ago, but was informed a couple of weeks ago that there might be a conflict, and the store manager had the final say in whether it was a go.  I pled my case, saying that I had a very good work record, am due vacation, and there were plenty of instances where others had been allowed to go under similar circumstances, so why should I be any different?  Granted, one of the department heads that intersects with my department is out on a medical disability, and someone else is covering his hours, someone that next week would be needed to cover my shift, but why should that be my problem?  Going back several months ago, I was asked to push back vacation because of staffing issues and I agreed (begrundingly), and as it turned out, I could have gone when I desired and nothing would have happened.  I really wasn’t interested in doing that again.  Fortunately, logic won the day, and I was permitted to take the time off.  So, win!

Another issue was transportation.  My wife and I have just one vehicle.  It’s a lease, and it’s in her name, not mine.  So I have to have permission to take the car, I can’t just take it and leave her without one.  Last year, I opted to rent a car to travel to my girl (then my Dominant) and it turned out to be a series of hoops, and a bit of an extravagance.  Nice vehicle, did what it was supposed to and served me well, but all in all it turned out to be $800 to rent the damn thing for 5 days.  This time, my wife said that it would be better if I took the car.  I agree, but I’m still concerned with leaving her without transportation.  This was much easier when we still had 2 cars.

Another issue.  What to bring along in the toy line.  So many choices!  But it’s a ‘first’ meeting, so I can’t be too crazy, and besides I have to lug in (and out) all the stuff I’d bring, and be sure not to leave things behind.  So probably bringing a couple floggers, a few paddles, and some equipment like carabiners, locks (and keys!) is a good idea.  There will be times when she’s going to visit me here in the future, and then I can bring out the ‘big guns’.  In the privacy of my own playroom.  That will definitely be nice.  Too, there are play parties in my area we can attend.  But that’s for the future.  Right now, I just want to introduce her to play without scaring the crap out of her.  Certainly there’s ONE item that I don’t want to forget, and she knows what it is.  It’ll be the thing I pack FIRST, because forgetting it would be unforgiveable!  And I can’t disappoint her like that.

Oy, I have a lot to do before next Tuesday.  And here I am writing a post….well, lucky you, because you got to read it…

 

Strong enough to bend

Reading Time: 2 minutes

Over the last few days my girl and I have been dealing with some issues, and it reminded me of the song ‘Strong Enough to Bend’ by Tanya Tucker.

Strong Enough to Bend
 
There’s a tree out in the backyard
That never has been broken by the wind
And the reason its still standing
It was strong enough to bend
 
For years, we have stayed together
As lovers and as friends
What we have will last forever
If we’re strong enough to bend
 
When you say something that you can’t take back
Big wind blows and you hear a little crack
When you say “Hey well I might be wrong”
You can sway with the wind till the storm is gone
Sway with the wind till the storm is gone
 
Like a tree out in the backyard
That never has been broken by the wind
Our love will last forever
If we’re strong enough to bend
When you start thinkin’ that you know it all
Big wind blows and a branch will fall

When you say “Hey this job takes two”
We can sway with the wind till the skies turn blue
Sway with the wind till the skies turn blue
 
Like a tree out in the backyard
That never has been broken by the wind
Our love will last forever if we’re strong enough to bend
Our love will last forever if we’re strong enough to bend
 
Songwriters: Beth Nielsen Chapman / Don Schlitz
Strong Enough to Bend lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
 
 

Information, please.

Reading Time: 5 minutes
I’ve been looking through my old LiveJournal, mining for stuff to repost and this one was just too good to pass up.

Not from my childhood but I remember there was an ‘Information’ person in our old telephone too….

When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.

Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was ‘Information Please’ and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone’s number and the correct time.

My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy.

I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear.
‘Information, please’ I said into the mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear.

‘Information.’

‘I hurt my finger…’ I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.

‘Isn’t your mother home?’ came the question.

‘Nobody’s home but me,’ I blubbered.

‘Are you bleeding?’ the voice asked.

‘No,’ I replied. ‘I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts.’

Can you open the icebox?’ she asked. I said I could.

Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger, said the voice.

After that, I called ‘Information Please’ for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, Information Please,’ and told her the sad story She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, ‘Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?’
She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, ‘Wayne, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in.’ Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone, ‘Information Please.’

‘Information,’ said in the now familiar voice.

‘How do I spell fix?’ I asked.

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. ‘Information Please’ belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall.
As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown Operator and said, ‘Information Please.’

Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well. ‘Information.’
I hadn’t planned this, but I heard myself saying, ‘Could you please tell me how to spell fix?’
There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, ‘I guess your finger must have healed by now.’
I laughed, ‘So it’s really you,’ I said. ‘I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?’
I wonder,’ she said, ‘if you know how much your call meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls.’
I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.
‘Please do’, she said. ‘Just ask for Sally.’

Three months later I was back in Seattle, a different voice answered,
‘Information.’ I asked for Sally. ‘Are you a friend?’ she said.
‘Yes, a very old friend,’ I answered.
‘I’m sorry to have to tell you this,’ she said. ‘Sally had been working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago.’
Before I could hang up she said, ‘Wait a minute, is your name Wayne?’
‘Yes.’ I answered.
‘Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called.
Let me read it to you.’
The note said, ‘Tell him there are other worlds to
sing in. He’ll know what I mean.’
I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.

Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.

Whose life have you touched today?

Lifting you on eagle’s wings. May you find the joy and peace you long for.

Why We Fight

Reading Time: 4 minutes

Yesterday afternoon, during my lunch, my girl and I texted as we almost always do.  It’s a respite in my day, and it keeps her engaged, so why not.  During the course of the conversation, she asked if we could video chat after I finished work.  I don’t live very far from where I work (a little over a mile) so the travel home is almost non-existent.  Before she moved, and changed jobs, what we used to do is have our video chats on the weekend, because she didn’t work weekends.  I do, but that’s beside the point.

Nowadays, we don’t video chat as often as we used to.  So she asks if we can during the week occasionally.  Unless there’s some pressing need for me to be home immediately (there usually isn’t) I agree, and we have our conversation. It usually lasts about an hour and then I go home.  My wife rarely says anything about why I’m late, sometimes an aside comment about me ‘dawdling’.  I either agree that I was, explain why I was, and then go about my evening.

Before I get into the meat of the post, I need to mention something.  I’m not by nature a social person.  I force myself to be, because it’s how you get along in the world.  I can be perfectly happy in a solitary space, not talking to much of anyone for hours, if not days.  When my wife and I started in our marriage, she used to try to engage me in conversation many (many!) times a day, but it’s not really me.  Nowadays, we talk about things that matter, things about the house, each other, upcoming appointments, what’s for dinner, what we might need in the larder or refrigerator and that’s about it.  We don’t generally have long protracted conversations.  She has friends for that.

Yesterday afternoon, during our video chat, we had a fight.  And it was about communication.  Mostly about the frequency of it.  When I had other submissives, we didn’t talk all that much.  We certainly didn’t talk every day, which is what my girl wishes to do.  (Insists on, more often than not) Yes, we’re a couple, and yes we’re in a relationship.  But it’s a long distance one.  Which (to me) means there can be times when we don’t talk for hours on end.  But we make a point to talk every day.  Several times a day.  It’s not in my wheelhouse, but I do it because she feels the need for it.  I’ve mentioned several times that I talk to her more than I’ve pretty much talked to anyone in my entire life.  And it’s true.  I can tell that she doesn’t get it, because she’s a social person.  People for whom conversation comes easily don’t really understand how hard it is to engage and be what they are naturally.  But again, I’m doing it for her, and to further our relationship while it’s still long distance.  (And yes, we’re working on that, trying to figure out ways to get together more often)

After we fought, there was silence.  And no, it wasn’t blissful.  I could easily tell she was still upset and on the verge of tears.  But she stoically stared into her phone and in clipped tones kept telling me she was ‘fine‘.  When she wasn’t.  And we both knew she wasn’t.  By that time we had been video chatting for about and hour, and I needed to get home.  So when I finally hung up, I knew she was going to cry.  The question at that point was, what was going to happen later.

Before dinner, I texted her to see how she was doing.  Silence.  No reply.  I followed up with a text about making dinner and would check in again later.  When I did, she popped up again.  We talked some more and though the situation isn’t completely resolved, we did talk about what happened and what to do about it.  It’s not going to be an easy fix.   Relationship nuts and bolts don’t always go in easily. Sometimes you need grease, sometimes you need to find the right nuts and bolts to make them go together.  But the upshot is, we’re conversing, not just being pissed with one another.

People in relationships fight.  But it’s what you do afterward that makes all the difference.