Tag: life

This is gonna take awhile

Reading Time: 3 minutes

Fuck.  I’d forgotten how much I hate cleaning.  The last time I’ve had to do this much sorting/cleaning etc was when my wife and I moved into this place back in 2000.  As we all know, with procrastination, things get bad over a long period of time, and in your head you think “No problem.  I’ll do this, this and this, and it’ll be over before you know it!”  Yeah, well it doesn’t work that way, buttercup.  Even with my music playing in the background from my phone over the Bluetooth speaker, it was taking a frigging eternity to sort through the pile of crap that’s been accumulating over the last couple of years next to my computer.  TWO kitchen sized trash bags FULL of stuff, not to mention two paper bags full of scrap paper recycling and I’ve managed to reduce it to a pile of stuff that needs to be sorted again.  Old pictures, tech hardware, SEVEN old cellphones (I shit you not), and a host of other stuff.  I did manage to find the photo manipulation software I’ve been looking for since I recycled my desktop tower, so I got that installed so I can stop jury-rigging pictures with MS Paint.  That was a pain in the ass, for sure.

All of this effort is to get the house ship-shape for my birth mother’s visit next week.  I visited her 2 years ago, we’ve been sort of shuffling back and forth about how she was either going to get here, we’d meet in the middle or some other plan.  This summer she had hip replacement surgery, so she wasn’t able to travel for at least 6 weeks post surgery, so we had to schedule around that.  Even so, she’s not frisky enough to manage a 4-5 hour drive alone, so she’s going to be taking a bus here.  Naturally there’s no direct service between where she is, and here, but at least she was able to find a route that only had one small layover.  She’s going to be here for about 3 1/2 days, give or take.  So we have to make sure that she’s comfortable, I have sufficient things for us to do to keep her out of the wife’s hair, and so on.  There’s enough things to do in the area vis-a-vis sightseeing and so on, but as we don’t normally go out much in the evenings, it’s a matter of keeping her entertained in the off hours.

Just stopped in to kvetch.  Back to work.  Wish me luck, I’m going to need it in spades!

Seasons change

Reading Time: 2 minutes

Summer has given way to autumn.  I know that because of the subtle temperature changes that have come forth in the mornings as I head out to work.  Sure it’s still somewhat warm, but I’ve already started to look forward to my Keurig Chai Latte (and laid on supplies from Amazon in the past week) in the morning instead of a cup of flavored water.  Too, I’ve started to use the heater in the bathroom again, I’ve broken out the plaid sweatpants that I wear in the evening instead of parading around in shorts as I’ve been doing the past few months.

I’m also seeing the change in colors of leaves here in the northeastern US.  A definite hallmark of autumn.  At least I don’t have to deal with the literal mountains of leaves I used to have to when I was living with my adoptive parents.  Try having 2 1/2 acres (1.01 hectares) of trees dropping leaves on your property every autumn and see what you might have to do to get rid of them…at least then we were able to burn the leaves without having to jump through endless hoops…I doubt the people who own the property now are able to.

Finally, it’s going to affect when and how myself and my girl are going to be able to get together.  Due to financial constraints and other instances, our plan to get together every couple of months has gone by the wayside.  I can understand and appreciate that she has issues with driving in snow, so it may very well be the soonest we can get together again might very well be come spring 2019.  That remains to be seen.

We’ve talked about it at length more than a few times.  We’ll talk more about it in the future, guaranteed.  The bond is strong.  It will happen.  Just have to be patient about it.

And I hate being patient.

Change isn’t as bad as you might think.

Reading Time: 4 minutes

My apologies for anyone that might have gotten notification earlier about this post, but I promised my girl I would give her the ability to read it first and be sure the content was ok with her.  Thank you for your patience.

poly-image.jpgRather out of the blue the other day, my girl brought to me a question.  It seems she’s become enamored with someone and wanted to know if that was going to cause a problem between her and myself.  Of course, I knew who the ‘someone‘ was, there has been a fledgling connection between them over the last couple of weeks, but she’s quite adamant that this would only constitute a bf/gf relationship, it would have zero bearing on our own BDSM one.  I’m her primary, also her Owner, so we’re in agreement that anything that goes on takes a backseat to what she and I share.

In a way I’m somewhat relieved that this happened.  It does take some of the burden off me to keep her entertained in the times that she’s not working, and I can be a little less ‘hands-on’ all the time, and be able to devote more time into my marriage, not that it’s particularly lacking.  But marriages require work just like any relationship and they don’t survive very well when one isn’t an active participant.  (As do relationships, even long distance ones, yes pet I’m WELL aware of that fact!)

Insomuch as we’ve been talking about this, would it necessarily be considered a poly relationship?  Well, not on my end, because I would have little to no contact with this person that my girl is thinking about getting more involved with.  He’s in her area, he’s married as well (both he and his wife are into kink fwiw) and THEY consider themselves to be poly.  As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, my wife and I have a quasi-open marriage, in that we agreed a LONG time ago that to stay together, we needed to seek out companionship (in the form of submissives) elsewhere and keep the core relationship, the marriage as the primary one.  Finding people who understand (as well as respect) that dynamic and mindset (as you might imagine) hasn’t been easy.  Add in the fact that I’m not interested in sex, and it just narrows that pool down to the shallow end.  The VERY shallow end, in my experience.

As we’ve been progressing in our conversations about this, my girl has recently been expressing that she’s feeling guilty over having this connection, since she’s able to see him whenever she feels like it, and can only see me when circumstances and finances permit.  Yesterday when she expressed this, I suggested that she was feeling ‘homesick’.  She countered that it’s more of a feeling of ‘Daddysick’, that she’s missing me greatly (it has now been about a month and a half since we met in PA) and really wants to get together again.  We’d been planning on her coming up here either at the end of this month or at the beginning of September, but that had to be put off due to finances on her end.  Too many things to do, to pay for, and a trip north has to be put on the back burner.

I’m very satisfied with how she’s progressing in our BDSM.  Though of course we both wish that it could be done more often, life and responsibilities (and yes finances) just gets in the way sometimes.  Ok, more than sometimes.  But in the end we’re in this for the long haul, so we have to keep our eyes on the prize, which is the future.  So we continue on and figure it out as we go.

This diagram just seemed to fit the flavor of this post, so I thought I’d bring it along for the ride.

nonmonogamy251

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…

 

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.