Crunch Time

Reading Time: 4 minutes

It’s the beginning of April, which means we’re in the home stretch.

In less than a month the waiting will be over, my pet will be visiting for the first time ever, and we’ll be seeing one another for the first time in nearly 1400 days.  I’ve harped on this topic many times over the past 3 3/4 years, but thankfully I will be able to move on to other topics once the visit has arrived and we’ve put it into the books.  Finally, we’ll be able to make forward motion again.

But, there’s still work to be done to get things ready on this end.  My wife’s and my proclivity toward being both packrats and hoarders have made the house a mess.  The two adjoining bedrooms upstairs where my pet will sleep need a good going over, and especially in the back bedroom, a good cleaning and sorting as it hasn’t had that in probably a good ten years.  If I’m going to be brutally honest, there are things in that bedroom that haven’t been touched in twenty-two years, since we moved in back in November of 2000.  Has it really been that long?  Yes, yes it has.

So to be starting a different countdown, I have twenty-two days until my pet arrives.  Considering moving out of a place people can do that in less than a week, this should be simple, but certainly, it’s not, since if it were I would have done this years ago.  Matter of fact, I had a plan a year or so ago, where I was going to concentrate on one room of the house each month (I don’t have twelve rooms in the house, but I digress) and get it done by the end of the year.  Yeah, that didn’t happen either.  Best laid plans and all that.  How do you get someone that’s used to putting things into a box and putting it aside to be brutal and throw away them instead?  I’ve watched the show Hoarders, but we’re not to that point yet.  There aren’t paths of piled up newspapers in the house, but on the other hand there are areas of the house where things are piled up, and there are boxes that haven’t been opened in decades.  Matter of fact in one of the upstairs bedrooms, there’s a bird cage that hasn’t been touched (literally) since my wife’s cockatiel died.  We just really don’t go in there and do what needs to be done.  I don’t think in my own personal history we’ve had a garage sale.  And we probably desperately need one.

Generally in my head the plan goes like this.  Get home from work, and get cracking on sorting, cleaning and so on.  How it really goes; come home from work, settle on the couch (because I’m pretty much spent from the go-go-go of work) and I’m done for the evening.  I often wonder how my Dad managed to get home from work and do another 3-4 hours of chores around the house and property (when you have 2 1/2 acres of land there are things that NEED to be done ALL the time) when I’m exhausted at the end of my work day.  But then I consider that he for the most part had a desk job (he worked at IBM) and I most definitely don’t.  Just need to change the narrative I guess.  Or admit that at 56 plus years of age I’m not as young as I used to be.  But I can’t let it defeat me, I can still DO this.

I think I’ll start a progress posting schedule.  See what I can get accomplished in the next week.  It’ll give me the opportunity to post here more often (now that I figured out what was messing up the blog so that it was showing posts from last year only) and I can motivate myself to get the house squared away for company.  Wish me luck!  

Updates to follow.

Finding new ways to bide time

Reading Time: 2 minutesWell, 2021 has turned out to be a bust when it comes to getting together, it seems.  With the pandemic, 2020 didn’t work out for a variety of reasons, but we expected this year was going to be different.  While I was able to get out and travel a bit (stayed in my home state), I wasn’t able to make the ‘big trip’ going to see my girl.  Which to be clear is a major downer, and there are more reasons than just COVID as to why this was the case.

Even so, time doesn’t stand still, and progress isn’t curtailed with an interpersonal relationship, whether it’s vanilla or kinky.

Even so, we’re moving forward to 2022.  The new plan is for her to come here in the Spring.  In the meantime, I’ve set up a video feed here so that she can have an anchor of sorts here at the house, be able to see me (which is important) and we can interact in a new way, to augment the ones that we’ve been making use of for the last three and a half years.  So far, it seems to be working out OK.  In the morning before I go to work, we can interact a bit while I get dressed and in the evening she has limited access to the house network, as much as is needed for her to be able to interact and participate.  As before, so far it seems to be working out.

Even so, the distance and the time factor hasn’t been easy on either of us.  I often equate it to a soldier in olden times going off to war (think Crusades or some conflict where communication wasn’t exactly modern) being separated by years with the folks back home and only seeing one another every few years.  A lot of things are missed in that time.

One hopes too, that come 2022 the pandemic will be a rather nasty memory in the history of the world.  And not current events.

More to come.

Inhibitions

Reading Time: 3 minutesAs I started my college career in the fall of 1983, the drinking age was still 18. I remember vividly the drunken parties in the dorm that I was in, the freshman football players that managed to destroy a wall between two rooms in order to make a ‘double’ room (and their parents eventually being charged for the damage) while having a ‘load on’ and so on. Beer, being cheaper was usually the alcoholic beverage of choice and it flowed pretty freely at the college. Two years later when the drinking age was raised to 21 (still get a little steamed about that, since it was one day I was able to drink if I wished, the next I had to wait another 17 months) and things changed accordingly. There was still what became ‘illegal’ drinking, but for the most part (unless it was inescapably obvious) the college looked the other way and didn’t overly police the practice.

Naturally, that has almost nothing to do with the topic above. Just laying a little groundwork and background, if you will. I was talking to my slave the other night on the phone before bed, and during the course of the evening, she’d been drinking some wine, a little too much apparently. It managed to loosen her tongue and brain a bit and she became very talkative about a great many things. And of course, as I expected, come the morning and the next time I spoke to her, she didn’t have a recollection of what she said. But I do. Now, I know it was probably ‘the liquor talking‘ for the most part, but when one’s inhibitions are let down, or tamped down either by some force or another, what is said or expressed can sometimes be the whole truth, and it can give a pretty good idea of what that person is thinking and feeling under the surface, or under normal circumstances they would keep to themselves.

Of course, I’m not saying all of this to shame her, as evidenced by the fact that I’m not letting on what she said. That’s exclusively between her and me, and there’s no force on this planet (or any other) that will change it, so don’t ask. I’m merely making an observation here, and relating it for my own recollection, as well as it was interesting to me. Interesting, so I write about it.

And as a caveat. Be careful when you drink. What you say, may very well be to someone who is listening. And remembering.

Crossroads

Reading Time: 3 minutesI look at the calendar.  Another day passed since I saw her last.  I can still remember what she looked like, what she smelled like when we parted.  I gave her the hat I purchased for myself at the museum so that she had something else of mine to keep close to her.  At the time, we had been planning to get together again in a couple of months.  But that didn’t happen.  Then more suggestions of when to get together.  Those didn’t happen either and winter set in.  

During winter, it was as if there was a wall set up around one of the state borders, and it was made of ice and snow.  Where she lives, it occasionally snows, not as it does in the Mid-Atlantic region where I reside.  Too, her vehicle isn’t completely reliable in many ways, so driving a good distance isn’t recommended.  Another roadblock of sorts, that keeps us apart.  Of course, at this point, we talk about the big bugaboo, money.  Working full-time when you’re living alone doesn’t afford you a lot of ‘mad money’, or funds for outside activities.  Especially when you’re in an industry that doesn’t pay all that well, even when one has the experience.  So saving money ends up being literally nickels and dimes, which doesn’t afford one the ability to be free to travel.  The last two times we got together, I either paid the lion’s share of the costs or accepted what she could at that time afford to contribute.  The first time I rented a car and drove 10 hours to see her.  The second time, we met approximately midway between the two of us.  That time I drove the family vehicle.  I have to admit, I was pretty shocked how much it cost to rent a vehicle for a week the first time.  Astronomical was the word I believed I used then.

As the days count down towards the one year mark for the time we’ve been apart, it makes me more and more melancholy.  Sure, we keep in touch via social media, phone calls, texts and the like, but it’s most definitely not the same thing as being there.  Spending time with her, even if it’s just sitting on the couch, watching television together, or her sliding down off the couch to rest her head on my knee while we’re doing whatever.  Having that physical contact is key, and it’s what we’re missing. I hear about her adventures with her poly family, and honestly, it bothers me that she gets to have adventures, and I don’t.  I’ve been sitting here spinning my wheels for 344 days.  Too, it reminds me of the collar fiasco.  I thought about getting her another one, but if I’m not there to see it, to enjoy seeing it on her, what’s the point?  And besides, it’s another outlay of my money for her benefit.  So it too got shelved.

Finally, I’ve given up shopping for toys.  I have so many here that have no purpose, no use, other than taking up space in the house.  My wife looks at them, then at me, and doesn’t ask the question we both know she’s thinking.  “what are you going to do with all this stuff??”  Honestly, right now….nothing.

Ugh, this is hard to write.  But its harder still to endure.  I have no idea what the solution is, but I am extremely tired of waiting.  And watching.  And observing.  And being left out.

Bedtime.  Good night.

Changing things around

Reading Time: 3 minutesIf you happen to be a follower of this blog, you’ll note already that I’ve changed a couple of things about how the blog works.  First and foremost, I relegated the ‘landing page’ to just another page in the header and made the blog posts the ‘star’ of the blog.  I tried it the other way for about 6 months, but it’s always sort of stuck in the back of my head as probably not the best way to present the blog.  So back to the default method of the posts up front.

I’m also mulling around changing the theme of the blog, in two distinct ways.  When I started the blog, it was mainly a ‘kink first’ blog, with a plan of having a ‘less kink’ blog elsewhere somewhere down the line.  At the time, I was expecting, nigh planning on being able to meet with my slave many times over the course of the year, and being able to chronicle about our adventures.  But, unfortunately, that didn’t happen.  So this blog became more of an amalgam of vanilla things that are happening in my life, with the occasional rant or mention of kink in passing.

Then, unexpectedly about a month ago my web host suddenly had a major issue with websites being available.  All too often over the last three weeks, it was unavailable because the web host wasn’t able to keep it online.  Getting server errors and a slow loading blog was very frustrating to my subscribers, and certainly it was no picnic for me either.  Watching my web traffic/bandwidth dwindle day after day was really beginning to piss me off, so much so that I took one of my domains and moved it to another server host.  Within the last couple of days the situation on the original web server has improved somewhat, and I’ve gotten assurances from them that they’ve not only identified the main problem, but they believe it’s been corrected.  So I’ve shelved the blog on the alternate server for the time being.  I’m still hedging my bets and leaving the other domain at it for now however.

I dusted off the blog I spoke about above and am posting to it as regularly as my brain can think of things to post to it.  Without much in the way of ‘kink’ to post here, I’m not completely certain I’m going to keep this blog active.  But I thought I’d make an update and let anyone that cared to know, what was going on.

We’ll see how it all goes.

Contractual obligations

Reading Time: 3 minutesI’m on vacation again.  But this time I’m using up my vacation days before I lose them from not using them. [Say that 5 times fast]  It’s something I go through every year around this time, due to the fact through my work I’m due 4 weeks of time off yearly.  Technically it’s 160 hours of vacation and 24 hours of personal time.  According to the union contract, (fortunately) it doesn’t have to be taken a week at a time (40 hours).  I can use it sparingly, or in larger chunks.  However, due to the nature of where I work and how short-handed we are (didn’t use to be this way), if I were to try to take off 2 weeks at a time, there would be several peeved off managerial types.  So I make every effort not to rock the boat in that aspect.

It just so happened that this week coincided with monthly inventory, so in theory this could have been a problem taking the time off.  The department manager prefers to have me present for inventory, so I make it a point to be at his beck and call and keep things on the level.  Consequently, this week I worked Sunday & Monday and took off the rest of the week for 3 vacation days and my normal 2 days off.  Next week I have 2 days of vacation and 2 days off, then back to work on April 4-7 to round out the week.  So, 9 days total.

As with all my other vacations, I have lofty plans, which usually almost never come to fruition.  If someone were to give out awards for laziness, procrastination and stubbornness in not getting things done, I’d have a basketful.  Certainly much to the chagrin of the wife, and my slave.  I’m not always spot on with keeping my promises, even if initially they’re made with good intentions.  As always, something to work on.


This morning while I was scanning through blogs I’ve started to follow, I came across one entry where the owner of the blog was railing about the necessity for contracts in BDSM.  Not just railing mind you, but making it quite clear that she believed they were essential for any BDSM relationship to be successful.  Furthermore she seemed quite convinced that the Fifty Shades model of contracts was the best one to be used.  Add in a link to a PDF she’d created with the contract in question (blank of course), and I suppose I shouldn’t have been too shocked to find there were a litany of responders to the post all pretty much agreeing with her.

Honestly, I couldn’t just let that one go.  Had to put my own take on it, though when I looked through the homepage of the blog, it hasn’t been updated since January, so it’s entirely possible my comment is falling on deaf ears.  Furthermore, since all comments to the blog are moderated, it would have to be approved in order to be seen by someone from the outside.

4 days down, 5 to go.

Let Down

Reading Time: 6 minutesI’ve been on vacation from work for the last week.  And I’ve been rather purposefully sedate, almost to the point of being lazy.  But then again, I don’t usually do much on my vacations, normally because I work so hard on the weeks when I’m on the job.  Too, neither my wife nor I are big on traveling.  Sure we’ll make little forays out of the house for shopping, going out to eat, appointments and the like, but we don’t normally travel all that far from home base, unless it’s a special or unexpected occasion.  We’re homebodies, for the most part.  Always have been.

Even so, we’ve been discussing off and on about going to Rochester, NY for a shopping trip together.  It’s about 2 hours distant, and there’s an Italian bakery we’ve been going to for many, many years.  It’s the bakery that made our wedding cake 26 years ago, and they make the most delectable butter cookies you could imagine.  On more than one occasion I’ve mentioned that if that place was closer, I’d easily creak the floorboards at 500 lbs (or more).  Yes, they’re that good.  Last year we both bought a Groupon for $30 worth of baked goods for $15.00 (USD).  A nice bargain and we’d done the same thing a couple of years back.  Of course we both spent ours on cookies.  They freeze well, if they make it to the freezer that is.  The deal expires at the end of March, and since I had vacation, we figured “why not?” and decided to make the trip.  The wife checked their website to be sure we’d be there at the right time, and yesterday afternoon we set off for the city.

We’d considered going the day before, but the weather report was saying that it was snowing in the city, even though it was sunny where we were.  Personally I don’t mind driving in the snow at any time, unless it’s really a white-out or blizzard.  Even so, driving with the wife can be a little more problematic, since if the wheels start to slip, she has a tendency to go into full panic mode.  And no one wants someone to have a screaming fit in their ear when they want to concentrate.  So we postponed the trip.

The trip was uneventful, though when we reached the area, we decided to eat at the local Olive Garden, so when we got to the bakery, we wouldn’t have the urge to buy everything not nailed down.  Dinner at OG was very nice, we had a very engaging waitress, enjoyed our meal and tipped her accordingly.  When she asked about dessert, I mentioned casually that we were going to the bakery (mentioning it by name) and she recognized the name and said that she loved their baked goods.  Leaving the restaurant, we continued down the highway looking for a suitable place to turn around, since the bakery was in a plaza on the other side of the road.  As we passed the plaza, I noticed something rather odd….the sign that advertised the bakery was missing on the building.  Or at least I thought it was.  Perhaps I had the wrong plaza?

After turning into a small strip mall and making our way to the right plaza, my worst fears were confirmed.  The sign was indeed missing, and the place looked like it had been closed for several weeks.  The windows weren’t boarded up, but you could easily tell that it was no longer in operation.  There was a computer printed sign on the glass door that announced they were “now in California!” along with a website to check out.   Might as well call it what it was.  We were both dumbfounded that the people who have been operating this bakery for the last 105 years could be so callous with their loyal customer base.  Taking out my phone, I did a quick web search and sure enough, a month back there was some local news coverage of the bakery’s closing and moving to the West Coast.  However, they never bothered to update either their website or social media presence to reflect that.  As a matter of fact, they went so far as to purchase another website to reflect the new location, registered a new Facebook page as well as an Instagram account (all the while leaving the old ones up and not updated) to advertise their new business.  And to add insult to injury, referring to their new bakery as having been opened in 1914.  Um, sorry people, you’re new to California.  While the bakery has been in your family for 105 years, that’s false advertising.  Better to say that you’re starting from square one.

Needless to say, we came straight home.  What we probably should have done was seek out another Italian bakery in the city.  As it turns out, there are several.  But we were more than a little crestfallen and decided to head for home and call it a day.  Even so, on the 90 minute trip, we discussed the discovery and lamented about how we were going to have less of a reason to go back to the city now, it was pretty much the last reason that either of us ever needed to go there.  Once arriving back at the homestead, I went to my couch and started searching YouTube videos about how to make the cookies myself.  My wife decided a more direct approach was in order and emailed the new bakery, informing them that it would be nice if they had done a little due diligence with their website and inquiring if our Groupons were still good.  Apparently it depends on who you ask.  The new bakery Facebook page suggests that they’re not being honored, as they’re being described as a ‘one time sale’ and since the old bakery closed, the new bakery isn’t going to honor them.  Which is a sucky way of doing business, but given what we’ve learned, I guess we’re not terribly surprised.  Suffice it to say, with the comments on their old Facebook page, we’re not the only people who were caught unawares.

I suppose in retrospect it was a good thing they moved across the country.  Pissing off your client base isn’t the best way to engender repeat business.  No matter how good your product is.