Three Years, Three Snippets

Today is our anniversary! Three years ago today, I married my best friend, and I still feel like the luckiest woman in the world. We have learned so much about each other in three years, and it just keeps getting better.

My present to him was a gorgeous leather jacket. I think it's the first time I've bought anything real leather (sorry, little lamb). Have I mentioned that I love the smell of leather? I love the smell of leather--perhaps I'm more into fetish wear than I thought...

In honor of three years, here are three snippets from the past week:

Several Days Ago 7:30 AM

We are cuddling together as I slowly wake up.

Me: Mmmmm....

He lifts up my shirt and touches my sensitive stomach, making me flinch. I remove his hand and tug down my shirt.

Me: Stop! I don't like that.
A: Don't give me orders, young lady.
Me: Well, it's my stomach, and I don't want you to touch it.
A: No, your body belongs to me, young lady. You may make suggestions, but I will choose whether to follow them or not.

He lifts my shirt again.

Me: Well, I would like to suggest that you not touch my stomach.

...

Yesterday--After missing the deadline for some lines I was supposed to write

Over his lap...where else.

A: Why haven't you finished those lines yet?
Me: I haven't had time!
A: You haven't made the time.
Me: You're right; I haven't made the time.
A: If I see you playing Candy Crush again before those lines are done, you're going to pay for it, young lady.

I immediately think of ways to play Candy Crush without him seeing.

...

Today

I emerge from a long, hot shower and am toweling off.

A: Your bottom is pink.
Me: It's from the hot water.
A: Oh...I thought maybe you were spanking yourself.
Me: I don't need to spank myself--I have someone for that.
A: Well, I can make it pinker than that.
Me: I'm sure you can.

He pushes me over the bed and demeonstrates that, yes, he can easily make it pinker.

New Business

I promise I haven't left Blog Land! I've decided to start a new business for the holidays, and it's taking up a whole lot of time for not a lot of profit (as new businesses are wont to do). .

It's a little stressful and discouraging. My husband has given me pep talks and "encouragement" over his lap, and there have been tears already. I may not make any money this year, but I'm not going to to give up :)

Loveliest of holidays to you all--hopefully I will get the chance to post some tidbits. I will be reading blogs when I can, but probably not posting much till after Christmas. For now, I will post a picture of our Christmas tree. We went with white lights this year, and I am just filled with warmth and happiness every time it comes on at night.

My Veteran

I woke up before my husband today, because I had to attend a special Veteran's Day service at church. I managed to catch and switch off my alarm less than a second after it went off, but it still woke him up :( 

I thought perhaps my handsome Veteran would go back to sleep, since it is, after all, Veteran's Day, but, instead, he pulled me over his lap, bared my bottom, and firmly made sure that I would behave today and "remember who's in charge."

Well, he knows how much I love morning spankings and how much it gets me going when he acts all strict and HOH-y. This was not a good start to getting ready for church.

By the end of the spanking, certain areas of my body betrayed my total desire for more. Sigh...

I said " to hell with getting ready" and was late for the service.

.  .  .

Happy Veteran's Day! I sure appreciate mine :)

A Surprise

After my grandma passed away, I sulked around for a while, which I was allowed to do. However, there was one insufferable evening when I was annoyed at everything, frustrated, and stressed out. I had an attitude and was constantly demanding things.

My husband went to bed before I did, and he was not happy. I thought he would simply go to bed upset, and we would talk about it the next day--a habit into which we've lately fallen. But I was in for a surprise.

I decided to crawl into bed next to him and cuddle--extend an olive branch--thinking that this would soften his heart and he would return the affection before falling asleep. Instead, he sat up, scooped me over his lap, and proceeded to give me one of the longest spankings I've ever received. He even paused halfway through and told me to face the opposite way, so he could effectively even out the smacks to my poor bottom. He used one implement, but mostly his hand. It just went on and on. I'm not sure how his hand endured it.

I can't really remember the lecture, but I remember it being serious--something along the lines of changing my behavior. There was no humor or light-heartedness in it, like some of his lectures.

I was so sore. And so relieved of stress and frustration. And so surprised.

I admired him so much after that, and I told him so. I told him how surprised I was, and he said that he was a little surprised himself. He thought about just going to sleep, but decided to try something else instead--something he knew I needed.

I was so, so glad he did.

Saint

My grandma passed away comfortably, peacefully, and surrounded by her children yesterday. Too many things had gone wrong--every time doctors tried to fix one thing, another major organ would fail. It was time.

How fitting she should go on the celebration of All Saints Day. I sang in a breathtaking Lux Aeterna from Rutter's Requiem yesterday, and, somehow, a bird got into the cathedral and was flying around throughout the service, perching on rafters and hopping around.

I'm not a huge believer in "signs"--it was a bird, caught inside. But, somehow...I don't know.

God is a mystery.

Square One

Wow, it's been almost a month. So much has happened--unfortunately, not much in the DD department.

My husband has been hesitant to spank me for things, because he is convinced it's not really a punishment. It is an extremely confusing line to walk. How can someone who enjoys being spanked take a spanking punishment seriously? How can I show him that it is effective, while, at the same time, maintain my enjoyment of spanking otherwise. I know that I can show him through my actions, but it's hard to do that when I'm not given the chance.

It is partly my fault. For example, I was having a hard time one day--being very disrespectful--and I knew it. I also didn't care. This rightfully made him angry. He refused to punish me. I really needed it, but I didn't get it. He figured if I didn't give him what he deserved, he wouldn't give me what I deserve. That's fair. I don't blame him, but it didn't make either of us feel better. There was no resolution.

My birthday was the 13th. I did get a delicious birthday spanking that involved far more spanks than my actual age, due to my losing count and having to start over ;)

In non-DD news, it's been a whirlwind month because my grandma is having major complications from open heart valve surgery. Many, many things have gone wrong, and it is going to be a long, slow recovery. But it seems like every time she does well for a few days, something goes wrong and she's back at square one.

If you're the praying type, my family would appreciate any good thoughts and prayers sent her way.

I look forward to catching up on different blogs--I've missed the DD community.

A Motivating Factor

A pair of red running shorts.

Elaborating on the distance running subject from the previous post, I will say that having a running partner can be a very good motivator in getting one to go running. Especially if the motivator will not hesitate to wield a wooden spoon when the motivatee is having trouble getting out the door.

Several days ago, I kept saying that I wanted to go running, but my actions were clearly sending the message that I was going to lay around in sweatpants all day and perhaps take a nap. Finally, my husband, tired of hearing me talk about what I should do, ordered me to get ready to go running. I went into the bedroom, grabbed my running clothes from the closet, noticed the nice, inviting, comfy bed, and decided to lay down for a couple minutes.

Several minutes later, I found myself bending over that no longer inviting bed, crying out as my bottom was smacked over and over with a plastic spatula and wooden spoon. It was harsh. I think at one point I even slid off the bed to the floor for some respite and was promptly ordered back into position.

Talk about an uncomfortable start to a run. I'm prone to heat rash when I workout, even without a spanked bottom, so I made sure to shower immediately afterward and lather on lots of lotion.

He also ran with me that day, so the motivation works both ways! I guess he figured he couldn't cop out on running when he had just provided me with such an effective incentive to quit stalling and go.

Distance Running

If you ever want a good exercise in communication with your significant other, go on a distance run together.

I'm an avid distance runner--I ran cross country through high school, and I've more recently done both half and full marathons (slowly). My husband and I have been training for an approaching 10 mile run. Usually we have to run separately, since our work schedules do not coincide, but, on the weekends, we can usually get a long run in together.

Now running is frustrating enough as it is. Anyone who runs knows that the benefits of running are far better than the actual activity itself. I'm never in a good mood by the end of my run--I'm usually hot, tired, sweaty, and in the mood to sit and cool down for a while. Then, after about a half hour, I start feeling pretty good and energized. But the run itself...

I was not prepared for the frustration of distance road running with a partner. When I run by myself, I can cross roads when I want, stop when I want, and turn around when I want, and I don't have to say anything to anyone--I just do it. When I'm with my husband, I have to convey all of these things in an intelligible sentence, which is not always feasible at mile 5 of an uphill--or at any other point, for that matter.

For example: say there's an approaching car on a mildly traveled road with lots of curves. What do you do? Well, my habit has been to cross the road so as to allow the car to continue on without having to cross the center line. My husband's practice is to stand his ground in the middle of the lane, forcing the car to briefly face oncoming traffic, if any. So, what did we do in this situation? Well, I often crossed, and my husband often stayed, creating a sort of runner "tunnel" through which the car had to travel. Or, one of us would make a mad dash at the last second to the other side of the road, followed by a statement such as "I hate when you do that!" or "Would you please say something when you're going to cross!!??"

We got a little bit better at it, but not much. We were constantly dashing around the road, trying to predict what the other would do. By the end, we had developed a sort of grunting, breathy language of commands, such as "Cruuss (pant) now," "Rit," or "Lft," usually accompanied by some vague pointing and/or flailing.

We were never in a good mood by the end of the run, especially if it was hot. But we agreed that it was definitely a good lesson in communication and adaptability. And we did enjoy the feeling of having accomplished something together, even if it was a simple 6 mile run. That feeling of enjoyment was usually enhanced by something like beer or ice cream, perhaps lessening some of the health benefits of running.

In any case, I still think I prefer to run on my own, but I like a good challenge with my husband :)

Guilt Absolved

We got in a fight. I was disrespectful. He was disrespectful. He stormed out of the house and was gone for a few hours.

He texted me later:

"I'm sorry I left the way I did, babe. I thought it was a good opportunity to be a Dom, but I blew it by storming out."

.     .     .

There is no rule that an HoH has to be perfect in every situation. Passion and emotion can get the best of anyone, at times, and my husband and I both work to keep our negative emotions in control when we disagree. We've learned a lot already and we work hard at it, but, inevitably, we misstep and both act the way we don't want to act sometimes.

I know this question gets thrown around a lot in reference to DD, but how does an HoH handle a situation where a punishment would be helpful, but both he and his partner are at fault for something? 

I suppose in any DD relationship, since no HoH on earth is perfect, there has to be an agreement that an HoH can use punishment in a situation that merits it, even when he has made a mistake as well. I can't speak for other couples (in fact, I'm interested to hear how others have handled this), but I can tell you how we deal with it.

This is something I foresaw when we first started DD. I knew there would be times when we both made mistakes--where we both said things we didn't mean. But I convinced my husband that it was OK for us to absolve our guilt differently. I reassured him that I would not hold a grudge against him when he needed to punish me for something he himself had also done. In fact, I asked him if he would spank me when we fought or argued disrespectfully, so that I could get rid of my bad feelings and move on from it. I told him, I would do whatever he wanted to help him move on from those situations, as well--though I knew he wouldn't be asking me to spank him, haha.

So it was, when we argued the other night, I hoped he would come home and give me the spanking I knew I deserved. But it seemed his conscience wouldn't allow him to punish me for something we'd both done. He decided not to spank or punish me for my role in our earlier fight. At first, I thought I was OK with it, but, as the night wore on, I felt as if there were still a wall between us--as if something were preventing us from moving on.

Upon my request, he finally took me over his lap before bed.

"The way you acted this evening was not acceptable, young lady," he said, as he smacked my bare cheeks. "Yes, we were both disrespectful, but this is how I deal with your disrespect."

He used only his hand to punish me, and I felt my hard feelings from the argument melting away with each blow.

His smacks were hard and firm for several minutes as he lectured me about disrespect. Then, they subsided into lighter, more playful smacks, and I knew the punishment was over. It was becoming something else.

We recently decided to clearly differentiate between pleasure and punishment spankings, but this seamless transition between the two did not bother me. I knew that I had been punished and that now I was supposed to enjoy the rest.

His playful smacks turned into light taps in all the right places. I squirmed over his lap, begging with my actions for him to stop teasing me, and he sternly told me to "Calm down, young lady," which only made things worse.

Finally, he flipped me over and did something to absolve his guilt ;)

Domestic Discipline 2.0

We've developed an unhealthy pattern over the past several weeks. I won't bother listing the possible reasons for it, but, the truth is, we are far from living DD 24/7. I'm OK with that. I don't need the lifestyle 24/7 to be happy, but I need to practice it sometimes--a couple times a day, once a day, even once every couple of days. But it's been more like once every other week, which is not good, because this is what happens:

It starts with one remark from me. I'll snap at my husband, say something disrespectful, or order him to do something, and he won't respond. Even if I apologize, he'll brush it off and we'll move on without any consequence other than guilt. But the hidden consequence of leniency, as any submissive in DD can attest to, is resentment. 

It doesn't happen all at once, so it's hard to tell exactly when I begin to resent my husband. But I'll admit that if I get away with disrespect once, it's that much easier for me to do it again. Pretty soon, I'll have frequent bouts of disrespect, and my resentment will grow with each remark that goes unpunished, and I'll start to think that my husband doesn't care or that he's ignoring DD. And then one day, I'll have what I call a "mini meltdown," where all of my frustrations and stress and resentment come pouring out in a river of complaints, and I'll finally get a serious spanking.

Then I'll feel loved, cared for, happy, and respectful for a few days, until I get away with another remark, and the cycle will begin all over again.

This is no way to live a DD life. I like to compare our current situation to "going on a diet"--we are on the diet where we eat nothing but healthy stuff for one week and then completely let go on day 7 and binge eat all the junk food ever, rather than the diet where we eat healthy, but allow ourselves small treats every day or couple of days.

I need to stop "binge living" the DD lifestyle. I want to live it more frequently, but in smaller portions, rather than every other week in one large session.

So, after a particularly frustrating venting session of stress and resentment to my husband the other night, I told him that something needed to change. After some serious discussion, we came up with Domestic Discipline 2.0:

1. Less spanking. I know, this sounds counter-intuitive, but the fact of the matter is I love to be spanked. And the problem we run into is this: my husband will hug me, then, in the middle of the hug, lightly chastise me and spank me. In my mind, it's a fun, playful spanking, and, in his mind, it's a reminder/mini punishment for some remark or behavior from me.
2. If spanking is used for punishment, it is a separate action from any intimacy. This stems from the previous item, in that, if my husband does decide to spank me for something, it will not be while he's hugging me or cuddling with me. If it's a punishment, it will come with no touching or intimacy, so that I don't become confused about what kind of spanking it is.
3. Other forms of punishment. In order to have on-the-spot discipline more often, we needed to come up with other things besides spanking, since my husband often doesn't have the desire or energy to give me a full-on punishment spanking. So, we've come up with many other "mini punishment" ideas, including small amounts of corner time, responding with "Sir" for the rest of the evening, writing and reflection, and--my husbands idea--physical exercises!
4. Weekly check-in. Once a week, we will check in with each other on how DD is going and decide if anything needs to change.

My husband decided to try this new version out last night when I rolled my eyes at something (jokingly!), and he made me stand in the corner, take off my clothes, hold my arms above my head for several minutes, and, finally, do 5 push-ups. Oh, and I also was spanked somewhere in the middle of that.

I have a feeling this new version of DD will not only improve our relationship, but also my arm strength!

Easy Access

Pants suck. I mean, they are practical, for sure, but I hate when I hug my husband, and he can't even grab my bare bottom because there is material and a belt blocking every access point. We usually don't have time for him to undo my belt and slide my pants down if we are having a quick hug before he or I leave the house.

But when I'm wearing a skirt or dress...that "quick" hug is also accompanied by some delicious hand on bare bottom contact. I get turned on by the simple act of wearing a skirt, knowing that my husband can, at a moment's notice, flip it up with a flick of his wrist and start caressing or smacking my bottom.

I bought this summer dress on sale a couple of days ago. It's cute, short, and flouncy--in other words, an all-access pass for my husband's hands to my bottom. Despite the obvious temptation, though, he did take the time to snap a picture:

I've been wearing the dress a lot lately. I have to take advantage of it while I can, because fall is right around the corner, and I'll be right back in boring old pants, boots, belts, and sweaters. Cold weather is such a buzz kill!

Secretary

The movie Secretary came out when I was in high school (sorry to make anyone feel old by that statement). At that time, already an avid spanko, I was a devoted lurker of the online spanking community. (Another apology guys, those "18 and over" warnings are there to make you feel good, not to actually deter anyone under 18). So it was that the first reviews I ever saw on the movie came from fellow spankos. It seemed everyone generally liked the movie, albeit with some complaints (specifically that the female protagonist is fresh out of a mental institution at the beginning of the movie--she's institutionally crazy so she must be submissive!)

I decided in high school that I had to see for myself what this movie was all about, so I watched it...alone. I don't remember much of it. I was too young to really get it, because, although I was into spanking I was turned off by BDSM, so I did not grasp the subtle nuances of power exchange and D/s between the characters. I walked away from the movie wishing there had been more spanking scenes, hahaha.

A few days ago, my husband and I watched it for the first time together. He'd never seen it before and I hadn't seen it since high school. Holy cow, what a different experience. Let's just say I've grown up now, and I understood all the subtle nuances of the intense battle between sexual and emotional desire and societal norms/obligations.

Let's back up, though. I jumped on the 50 Shades of Grey bandwagon two years ago and read the book series all the way through in about a week. I admittedly panted through most of the spanking and sex scenes, but generally thought that the books were terribly written with a plot ripped off from Twilight (also terribly written), and characters that were about as "relatable" as a pile of cow manure.

Well, re-watching Secretary not only confirmed those suspicions that 50 Shades is absolute shit, but I also realized about, oh, 5 minutes in, that the author also jacked over half of the beautiful, subtle, and powerful niceties of this movie, starting with the name of James Spader's character, E. Edward Grey (come on, that can't be a coincidence!) It was as if E.L. James saw Secretary, read Twilight, and thought "Hey, there's an idea...except I'll make the characters even better by making one an abusive, emo, billionaire control freak who gives up pretty much all of his sexual fantasies and life goals for an unbelievably naive, virgin, vanilla college girl who thinks her man's abusive and obsessive behavior is totally "going to change for her" because they're in love, of course."

Sarcasm aside, I understand the draw of 50 Shades of Grey, I really do. There's a reason it's so god damn popular. But after watching Secretary, I thought, now here is the closest our world has ever come to being realistically depicted in Hollywood, and here we are bitching that the protagonist isn't quite as feminist/strong/normal as we would have liked. Come on, people! I think it's time we make a vow that, on February 14th, when 50 Shades of Grey hits movie theaters, we spankos/DDers/Dsers/TTWDers cozy up at home with our significant others and rent Secretary.

Whether you re-enact the scenes afterward is totally up to you.

For more information on why Secretary "should be viewed immediately" and 50 Shades of Grey never, see this article on Buzzfeed (yes, Buzzfeed!)

Interrogation: Part II

This is the second part of a two-part post. If you want to read the first part, click here.

"Take off your shirt and your underwear," he said, firmly (my pants were already off at this point). I readily complied. "Go pick out two implements."

I opened our closet door and dug through the bag of implements. I couldn't see anything because we didn't have a light on in the room, so I chose to pull a "Mary Poppins," stick my hand in, and pull out whatever came up. Later, I would very much regret this decision.

I handed over the two implements.

"Now go stand in the corner, young lady; hands at your side," he said.

"What?! I wanted more spanking, not corner time! It's really dark over there," I whined.

"Go stand in the corner NOW," he replied.

Yikes, OK. I scrambled over to the corner. It was incredibly dark, and the door to the dank bathroom that we never use was open next to me, and it was creeping me out. I reached over and pulled the door shut, so I'd have more of an enclosed "corner" in which to stand.

"Did I say to close the bathroom door?" my husband walked over to me.

"No sir," I replied. He slapped my bare bottom several times and opened the bathroom door again. He left me there, and, when he was sure I was staying put, left the room. I was curious.  I wondered what he could possibly be doing in the middle of our time together...

The answer arrived in the form of a bright white light. He was wearing a headlamp for hiking that sits on a band around his head. The lamp has three settings: red, low beam, and high beam. The high beam lit up the room, focused directly on me in my corner. I'm sure he could see me rather well. I, on the other hand, could not see anything except for blinding white light. I squinted my eyes shut.

He told me to step forward and face him.

"What did you learn this evening?" he asked. It was hard to think while I was being temporarily blinded. I um'd and hmm'd a few times and came up with this:

"I need to be constructive about channeling my feelings, and, when I want your help, I need to ask you for help instead of asking if you want to do something," I said. (Pretty good, right!?)

"What else did you learn?" he asked.

"Ummmm...," I said.

"Get back in the corner," he said. I settled back into my corner, his piercing white light still fixed on me. I lasted 5 seconds at the wall before I burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of it. He looked like a coal miner, and this was like an interrogation session! To my knowledge, we hadn't discussed anything beyond what I had just told him. I knew he would not respond well to my laughter, but I truly could not keep it in.

He came over with implement number one: a light, plastic spatula that is quite sting-y. He slapped my bottom cheeks with the spatula for a few minutes, causing me to yelp and jump all over the place. I was not laughing by the end of it.

"Turn around and face me," he said, after several more minutes. "Now, tell me what you've learned."

"I've learned to ask you the right way when I need your help with something, I've learned to take your instructions seriously, and I've learned to respect you," I said. (Man, I nailed it! I thought).

"Yes...and? What else?" he said.

What?! He couldn't be serious. I was at a total loss. I racked my mind for anything else we had talked about or even didn't talk about, and came up with nothing. I stared into the bright white light questioningly.

"Back in the corner," he said.

Now, what happened next, I'm convinced was completely involuntary, as I couldn't look anywhere but down at the floor or up at the sky for being blinded if I looked straight ahead. Apparently I rolled my eyes and gave a little laugh before turning back around to face the corner...

OK, I probably rolled my eyes, and it probably was semi-voluntary, as I did not know what in God's name he wanted me to say.

Oh boy, this really did not go over well. I hadn't realized I'd done it, so when he charged over to me with implement number 2--a thick, thuddy wooden spoon that does not in any way contour to my bottom--I thought it was because I had failed to say something I should have learned that evening. He smacked my bottom over and over with that damn wooden spoon. I was cringing and yelping even more so than before.

"Do you want to know why I'm doing this?" he asked. I replied that I did. "Because you rolled your eyes at me, young lady."

Oh.

He sent me over to the bed where he laid me over the edge in preparation of roasting my bottom.

"Don't you EVER roll your eyes at me during a punishment, do you understand me? The next time you do that, you'll be in the corner all night--I'm not joking. That is a blatant sign of disrespect and contempt, and I will not have it from you when you're submitting to me," he smacked my bottom hard with that awful, thuddy spoon, and it hurt like hell. It was beyond the pain of any of our other implements. It went deep, and I was shaking, kicking my feet, gasping for breath, and grabbing the comforter for dear life. I thought for sure that I would pass out if he kept this up. Not to mention, I was sorely regretting my choice of implement.

He can read me too well, though, and he knows how far to push and when to let up. He switched to the sting-y spatula for a while that felt like near relief after the harsh wood. He ordered me to take a deep breath and to go get my body lotion from the bathroom. I complied, thinking we were done and he was going to soothe my bottom with some lotion.

Nope. He wanted to "prepare" my bottom for round 2 of the wooden spoon :(

He didn't want to chap my skin with the dry wood, so he massaged some lotion in and began anew with the assault on my now soft and supple bottom. He pushed me to my limits again and didn't stop until my bottom was on fire and I was one sorry young lady who would never roll her eyes during a punishment again.

When it was over, he set his headlamp on the dresser where it spotlit the bed. He gently laid me down on my stomach, and, for several minutes, I watched the wall behind the bed, mesmerized, as the magnified silhouette of his fingers stroked the curvaceous silhouette of my bottom. I could see my shadow bottom jiggle as his shadow hand lightly tapped it a few times.

Then we made love where I, once again, felt as if I were not myself, but a part of him--like we were one entity.

When we were cuddling together afterward, I asked him what on earth he expected me to say when he was grilling me on what I'd learned.

"Oh, nothing in particular," he said. "I was just playing mind games with you--classic interrogation technique, you know? You ask the same question over and over--make them think they're leaving something out." He laughed.

I have a mean husband.

Interrogation: Part I

Boy, did I get it good last night. More on that in Part II of this story, but, for now, let me describe the events that led to it.

A whole host of things happened throughout the evening to irritate me: it was my day off work, so I spent hours cleaning the kitchen and making a nice pork roast and cobbler dessert. I asked my husband if he wanted to clean up after dinner (we'll get to the wording of this request later). He hummed, hawed, and sighed about it, so I got up in a huff.

"Fine, I'll do it. Don't worry about it," I said, as I made my way into the kitchen. At that moment, I took the spoon out of a boiling hot BBQ sauce on the stove and it splattered all over my jeans, shirt, and feet :(

Later (after I changed, unloaded the dishwasher, and my husband cleaned up ;), we were sitting in the living room, and we somehow got into a debate on global warming, which irritated me to no end (I honestly don't know how we get into these topics).

The debate wound down into cantankerous silence, and he asked if I wanted to go for a walk, which I did. We stepped out into the late summer night and walked together around the neighborhood. I was somewhat distant, and, at one point, he asked if I wanted to walk separately. I said no, and a few minutes later, he turned me to him, grabbed my hair, and kissed me for several minutes right in the middle of the street. We walked for a few more minutes, when he did it a second time.

"Again?" I asked.

"What do you mean "again," he said. "I can stop and kiss you whenever I want."

I didn't argue with that, because it was really turning me on, kissing there in the middle of the street.

But by the time we got home, the "mood" had gone, and we were back to sitting in silence in the living room. I was unhappy, and he could tell.

"Come on," he led me to the bedroom, where we had a "discussion" over his lap. I was feeling particularly defiant and didn't bother to call him "sir." I laid out all my feelings and frustrations over his knee, and we talked about how I should word my requests from now on when I want his help. Apparently "Do you want to clean the kitchen" is not a good way to ask for help...

"You know what it comes down to, young lady. You're a woman. And you know I would do anything for my woman. If you word something in such a way that makes it seem like I'm helping you out, you're a lot more likely to get a positive response from me," he said. "If you ask me if I want to do a household chore, then no, I'm never going to want to do a household chore."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said, and then we thought of examples of how I could word requests in the future.

At this point, our "discussion" was just that--a discussion, and I was not getting the spanking and the submission I craved. He told me to roll off his lap, but I was not done.

"I want more," I said. "Will you please give me more?"

To be continued...

Home Again, Home Again

I'm back from vacation!

I had such a wonderful time, although I was not with my husband--he was on a business trip while I visited my parents for two weeks.

We reunited a couple of days ago--it seems like we've been apart a lot lately. I've had a couple of mini spankings to "remind" me of who was in charge, even when we were apart.

There really weren't any opportunities to submit over the past couple weeks. When I'm home and my husband goes away, he can give me things to do like corner time, essays, lines, etc... When I'm with my parents, however, that becomes a lot more difficult.

So, the past couple of weeks have been more of a relaxed form of DD. We are easing back into it the best we can!

I have a lot of catching up to do in Blogland--hopefully I'll have more to write about soon, but I look forward to reading about what everyone's been up to the past two weeks!

A Dream

I started to make dinner, and, upon going to the fridge to get the chicken out, discovered that I had left both bags out on the counter all night and day.  I was so frustrated, I stuffed the bags of chicken violently into the trash can. 

I decided to make pizza instead. But as I was rolling out the dough and ladling on the sauce, my husband came into the kitchen and said,

"I was going to make pizza tonight."

He then pushed me aside and took over my pizza-making! I was so angry that he thought he could walk in and take over, that I threw the whole pizza onto the floor--sauce down.

Next thing I knew, I was going over my husband's lap for a bare bottom punishment spanking that I did not think I deserved...

Boy, my dreams are getting realistic. Although, in real life, I could never throw a whole pizza on the floor--I couldn't waste good pizza like that!

I told my husband about the dream this morning, and he asked if I was worried or concerned that he was taking over things in my life. After all, dreams often reveal our real subconscious feelings. I couldn't think of anything, though. He has taken over some aspects--like holding me accountable--but I am truly grateful for that, not upset :)

In other news, I'm leaving for vacation in two days!!!  Well...it's technically not vacation, since I am visiting my parents. However, my parents live in a gorgeous log cabin on a wildlife-filled pond in the middle of the woods. They are also 15 minutes from the beach. It is the most calming, relaxing, therapeutic place I know, and anyone who visits feels the stress melt away...

Below are some actual photos of where I'm going:

My parents' house

The backyard

THIS is right across the street from where I grew up

In Public

A couple evenings ago, my husband and I met up after work for a concert and dinner downtown. The concert was lovely, if sparsely attended, and, afterward, we went to a local pub and BBQ place. The beer was good, the food was OK, and the music was way too loud for a weekday evening (really, a "club" atmosphere on a Wednesday??)

I was feeling a little tipsy after one beer (that's all it takes these days), so my husband suggested we walk around the park for a while. After a stroll around the square, it was getting dark and late, and I was ready to go home. Since my husband and I had arrived separately, I had to drive home on my own. I felt fine, but I am aware of my lightweight status, so I knew there was a possibility that I was not legally OK to drive.

I was anxious to get home, but my husband insisted on consulting two different apps that calculate blood alcohol level. I was very impatient about it, and we got into an argument. After the results of the second calculator, I turned my back and walked toward my parked car:

"I'm going home," I said, with attitude.

He said my full name, and told me in a stern voice to lose the attitude. He approached me, turned me around to face him, cupped my chin firmly in his hand, and forced me to look up at him.

This was heading in a horrible direction. We were in a public place, and, though it was dark, there was definitely more than one person out walking their dog in that park that could hear us. I was incredibly embarrassed, but I sensed that if I did not take the time to check my attitude, I may be a lot more embarrassed by the time we left the park.

"Give me a minute," I said. I  buried my face in his warm, inviting chest and took several deep breaths to calm down.

And it worked.

I felt so much better. I felt happier, calmer, and ready to cooperate. I looked up again.

"I appreciate your concern for my safety, babe," I said.

After it was determined that I was OK to drive, I got in my car and headed home.

Later that night, my husband said that, had I not dropped my attitude, he would not have hesitated to spank me in public. I still don't know if I believe that, but the threat of it is enough to keep me in line, that's for sure. It was already embarrassing enough being lectured in public!

Paying The Toll

That will be 30 smacks, ma'am.

Sometimes, when my husband and I pass each other in the hallway between the living room and bedroom, he'll block my way with his arm, and pull me into him.  Then he'll lower my pants and underwear, bend me over his arm and proceed to smack my bottom a dozen or so times.  Then he'll pull my pants back up and I'll be on my way.

He says I have to "pay a toll" to pass through my own hallway!

The Good, the Bad, and the Beautiful: The Beautiful

This is the final part of a three part story. To read the first two parts, click here and here.

It was later in the evening. I could tell my husband had made a full recovery in confidence by the way he was acting. He gave stern warnings throughout the evening as to what would happen later.  After dinner, he ordered me into the bedroom. He had me strip down completely and choose three implements. I opened our closet, sat down, and slowly sifted through our bag of implements, choosing carefully, taking my time.

"You're taking too long, young lady. You better move faster," he warned.

I hurried to the bed with a belt, a plastic spatula, and a wooden spoon. He placed them on the bed and ordered me into the corner, where I stood still and contemplated my fate. I guess it's time to reveal now why I felt I deserved this punishment. Occasionally, my husband will give me assignments to complete, especially when he's gone. He gave me a three part assignment to complete by June 15th, and I failed to complete the third and final part. He gave me some leeway, because it did involve having time and energy to complete, but I put it off until the day before he was supposed to come home, and I figured, by that time, there was no point in completing it when I would see him so soon.  Of course, I discussed none of this with him, and came to the conclusion all by myself that it was OK for me not to complete the third part.

He called me over and made me stand still in front of him, looking him in the eye.

"I gave you an extension and you still did not complete that assignment. You thought you could decide for yourself, without discussing with me, that it was OK not to complete it. Well, that's not the case, young lady; you do not put off what I tell you to do and decide for yourself what you will do."

I told him I was sorry.  It was all I could say.  He was right, of course, and anything else sounded like a poor excuse. He talked about our relationship and how seriously we should both be taking it, which made me tear up.  I felt awful--I already wanted this to be over, and it had barely started yet.

He sent me back to the corner for a while longer, and then called me over to the bed to begin my punishment. I crawled over his lap, and he began to spank my bare bottom with his hand.

The contrast in mood between this spanking and my spanking earlier in the day was astounding.  This was the mindset I needed, the preparation I wanted, and the punishment I craved.  This was all serious and no fun. I could tell in the weight of his hand that this was going to push my limits.

He lectured and spanked simultaneously. Sometimes he would pause to say something, while rubbing my bottom, then he would begin anew with harsh smacks. Deciding I was sufficiently warmed up, he reached for the belt, and I cried out as the sting of leather began to assault the sensitive parts of my bottom.

After several dozen smacks with the belt, he transitioned into the plastic spatula, which I sometimes enjoy, but did not today.  It hurt--he was not being light and fun with it.  I squirmed and yelled as the heat and intensity built.

Once my bottom had been roasted by plastic, he moved onto the wooden spoon-a small but mighty instrument with a concentrated sting.  My bottom was really burning at this point.  My breathing was heavy, I fought, squirmed, wailed for his sympathy, and, eventually, gave up fighting and lay there submissively as the smacks continued. This was the most intense punishment spanking I had ever endured from my husband.

It finally ended, and I was back in the corner. I felt lonely there in the corner. I wanted to be in his arms, which I think he sensed, and he came over and embraced me for a long time. I felt enveloped in his warmth and comfort, which made me tear up for the third time that night.

He brought me to the bed, where we made love, although "making love" doesn't do justice to what happened between us. It was as if we became one single being--like we were part of each other with the same thoughts, the same movements, the same breath. I felt as if I had somehow been absorbed by him.

It can only be described as Beautiful.

I've never experienced a connection like this with anyone in my life, and I know that DD has done this for us. DD has created in us a spiritual and emotional bond of selflessness and submission to each other. We fall in love with each other over and over again, each time stronger and more intense than the last.

It is not without its lows.  We often have to navigate through non-fulfilling sessions, bad moments, and disappointed feelings.  But, through careful communication and commitment, come beautiful moments like these, where our relationship transcends to something outside of ourselves.  Through failed attempts come smashing successes, which are appreciated more when we've worked for it.

So, we have the good, the bad, and the beautiful, and I appreciate each and every moment for what it is and what it can teach us about our relationship.

The Good, the Bad, and the Beautiful: The Bad

This post is part two of a three part "reunion" series with my husband.  To read the first part, click here.

Three times in a row is definitely a record for us.  After that, my lady parts were "closed for business," so we then moved on to watching other people have sex and violently kill each other (caught up on Game of Thrones).

Although I was happy and satisfied sexually, I did feel that my punishment had been cut short.  I didn't feel emotionally absolved or renewed, and I was still anxious about what was to come the next day.  There was still a whole list of things that he wouldn't let me read.  As we lay in bed Saturday night, I asked if my punishment was going to be severe with lots of lecturing, implements, and corner time.

He responded with all the right answers, giving me chills and making my stomach flop.  Like I said in my previous post, my husband is very good at building me up and creating expectations for me.  I told him I was nervous.

The next day, after church, we were sitting at home, each doing our own thing.  I decided to put down what I was doing and lay over his lap.  I do this for fun sometimes when I'm in the mood for attention, and I will innocently say, "Oh, how did I end up here?"  He usually complies and gives me attention.  This time, he told me he liked my dress because he could easily lift it up and have access to my bottom.  A rare compliment from  my husband about my fashion choices.

He started rubbing my bottom and then spanking it.  I was enjoying the attention.  All of this was taking place on the living room floor right next to his laptop.  Right in the middle of this sexy, fun spanking, he opened his computer and began going through the list of naughty things I did while he was away.  The list was short, and the major thing on the list--disrespecting him--I had already been sort of punished for.  He half-heartedly lectured me about the other three, not-so-important things on the list, and thus began my "severe" punishment.  No preparation, no face-to-face lecturing, no corner time :(

My heart sank.  This was not at all what I had expected.  What started out as a fun spanking turned into a very anti-climactic punishment spanking, and the worst part was, he had forgotten to put something on the list for which I felt very guilty--something I thought was important.  So, there I was, lying over his lap, feeling horrible because I was in a totally wrong state of mind, being spanked for silly things that I didn't think mattered compared to the other thing he'd forgotten.

He ordered me to go to the bedroom, and I sighed, exasperatingly.  He gave me an incredulous look.

"You're on thin ice," he said.

"Just, stop.  Can we please just stop this?" I asked.  I lay there, not knowing what to say next.  He told me to sit up and look at him.  I was quiet for a bit, but with a little prompting, I was able to articulate what was bothering me.

I told him that I felt really let down, because he had mentioned previously that I was going to be punished for something, and, when it came time for it, he'd either forgotten about it or didn't think it was important.  And I said that when he does such a good job of building me up and setting my expectations, it really disappoints me when the main event is nothing like he said it would be.

I felt awful.  I felt like I had totally shot his confidence, but I needed to say it, because I really was disappointed.  I sat in his lap and we hugged and talked.  It turns out he did forget to put the thing on the list, but the real problem was that we had a difference of opinion as to how important it was.  I thought it was a major thing, right up there with disrespect, and he thought it was better categorized with forgetting to call him Sir during punishments.

We talked about how important managing expectations are, and I told him he should not tease me when it comes to punishment unless he plans to follow through.  When he builds me up and makes threats about what will happen, I come to expect those things to happen, and, when they don't it's a huge let-down.

We also talked about setting up for punishment--we agreed that it was important to keep fun spankings and punishment spankings separate, and that a fun spanking should not transition into a punishment spanking, because it does not allow for preparation or proper mindset.

I think he saw my side of things, but, at this point, there was no use in continuing where we left off.  I could tell that he was sad and upset.  I know I had bruised his ego.

"Well, what do you want me to do?" he asked.

"I want you to pull yourself up by the bootstraps and give me a real punishment later," I said.

To be continued...

The Good, the Bad, and the Beautiful: The Good

There were three separate episodes that occurred between my husband and me this weekend, about which I want to write.  For length's sake, I'm going to separate them into three different posts.  I'm obviously excited to share the good and the beautiful stories with you, but I feel obligated to share the bad one, too, since I want my readers to understand that this lifestyle is not always easy for us, and that it doesn't all come "naturally."  I know everyone who practices DD struggles with it at times, but I know that I often want to gloss over the bad parts or the struggles and write about the things that worked (I suspect there are others who do this too).  My hopes in blogging about this lifestyle were, originally, to document every aspect of it, good and bad, so I want to share it all.  But I will start with the good, since, overall, it really was an amazing weekend.

First of all, my husband is home!!!!!  He was gone for a month this time, taking a class for the army.  I kept pretty busy while he was gone, but I still missed him immensely.  And although I would prefer we were always together, sometimes I think that it's good for us to be apart.  The passion and physical attraction we feel for each other after time spent apart is beyond anything I've ever experienced, even during the "puppy love" phase of our relationship.

My husband is good at building me up--setting my expectations.  He's good at teasing me.  The threat of a spanking, a punishment, or a lecture from him sends shivers down my spine and butterflies into my stomach. On the car ride home from the airport, I was practically panting at the steering wheel, trying to maintain my composure while various promises and threats came at me from the handsome man in the passenger seat.

As soon as we arrived home, we dropped all the luggage on the floor and embraced.  It felt so good to be in his arms again after a month away from them.  We both knew we had to be intimate right away--there was no putting off this craving for each others' attention.  The only conundrum was what kind of intimacy we should start with.  My husband kept a list of my misdeeds while he was gone, so there was no question about whether I needed to be punished; the question was when it should be.

"Do I need to punish you now or can it wait till later?" he asked.  "This is my way of asking you what you want right now."

"I guess we should do it now and get it over with," I said.  Then we can get to the good part, I thought to myself.

"To the bedroom, young lady," he replied.  "And strip down."

I made my way to the bedroom, stripped down, and waited for him to follow me in.  He had promised a couple of weeks ago that my punishments would not happen all at once.  I knew they would be spread out over the weekend/week, so I wondered what I would be punished for today.  And I wondered if it was going to be the "big one"--the long one with many implements, severe lectures, and corner time that he promised me during the car ride home.  I was hoping it wouldn't be--I wanted to hurry up and get to the good part :)

It was for disrespect.

During my week of "that time of the month," I was apparently very disrespectful in our nightly phone conversations--I got defensive often, argued a lot, snapped at him, became exasperated, etc...  I would say respect is the top priority in our relationship.  Our entire DD lifestyle is built on the fact that we trust and respect each other, so when I disrespect him in any way, it undermines the foundation of our relationship.

I lay naked over his lap, listening to his lecture on respect as he rubbed my bottom.  Then he began spanking me with his hand.  Hard.  My butt was out of practice.  The whole time he spanked me, I just wanted it to be over.  I wanted him so much, and, as he spanked me, I would intermittently squeeze his hand, rub his back, and hug his knee.  He sensed my desire for it to be over (he later told me that he also wanted to "get to the good part") and, before I even got into the "space," he flipped me over and made love to me. Three times.

To be continued...

Wake-Up Spankings

When done well, wake up spankings are one of my favorite things.  I'm not talking about being jolted awake by a sudden slap to the bare bottom.  I'm talking about the slow, sensuous morning spankings that start out with my underwear being slightly lowered as his hand lightly rubs and fondles my cheeks.  Then gentle fondling and rubbing turns into light taps on my almost bare bottom.

This is usually enough to bring me out of a dream state and into a more conscious dream state.  When I'm more awake and aware of what's going on, I like the taps to become a little firmer, along with some "good morning, beautiful lady" messages whispered in my ear.  I will smile, slowly open my eyes, and sigh with satisfaction at my wonderful wake-up call.

Then, as I begin to fully wake up, I like to be gently lifted over his lap for some firmer spanks to my now fully bared bottom, interspersed with rubbing and teasing.  And then, if we have the time, that rubbing and teasing leads to other fun morning events :)

With this method, there is no waking up "on the wrong side of the bed."  This is the right way to start a day!

Ultra Violet Rays Vs. Spanking Implement: What Caused the Burn?

UV rays cause nothing but pain and suffering (sometimes long term--wear your sunscreen!), but so do spankings.  I prefer spankings, since the effects wear off after a couple hours (or days) and don't cause cancer.  Today's game is called "Sunburn or Spanking."  You guess!

A.  

B.  

C.  

D.  

Answers

A and B are both sunburns...ouch!!  Although the pattern in B is pretty neat, I'd prefer to decorate my skin without having to peel it off later!  C is, of course, a spanking, and I'll let you decide for yourself on D.

In conclusion, remember no tan is a "healthy" tan, and the only reddening your skin should receive is from a hand, belt, paddle, brush, etc...NOT the sun!

State Troopers

S and T are for State Troopers...specifically, Alaskan State Troopers.

I've always had a thing for men in uniform.  A man in uniform equals a man with authority, and going over the hood of a policeman's car as punishment for my crimes is on my bucket fantasy list.

Yes, officer, I broke the law.

I discovered a gem of a show the other day called Alaska State Troopers, and I'll say that I suddenly have a strong urge to visit Alaska and break the law.  There are some very attractive men in uniform enforcing laws in Alaska, and I spent several hours watching, mesmerized, as they wasted all of their authoritative finesse on stupid criminals.

Honey, I've had a hard day, now over my knee.

I think an Alaska State Trooper would fall quite naturally into a dominant position at home, but I suppose that's not necessarily true.  Maybe someone who spends hours and hours ordering lawbreakers around doesn't want to come home and order his wife around.  If that's the case, then it's good I'm not married to one.  I can still fantasize, though!

Alaska here I come!

Quiet Reflection: When a Good Thing gets Better

It's time for some Quiet Reflection.  With my husband gone, I've had some time (though not much!) to be alone and think--reflect--on how DD is going.  I do feel that it's going well.  It is definitely not 24/7 for us. It's more like once or twice a week, but that is enough for now.  I'm not sure what I will want in the future, but, frankly, I don't want to think about it.  I want to take this as it comes, day by day, and not worry about how I will feel or whether I will be satisfied in the future.

My husband, however, is what I call a "future crisis planner"--meaning, for any given situation, he thinks of everything that could go wrong and voices it.  He often detects problems and brings them up long before they happen, and sometimes I wonder if his "problem solving" actually creates problems.  Or I think about what would actually happen if he didn't speculate about what could happen.  Most of the time, I do appreciate his foresight, though.  He cares deeply about our relationship, and he brings up little annoyances that actually could turn into problems, if not addressed early on.

He has voiced a concern several times about whether I will ever be truly satisfied with DD.  He wonders if it will become like any other obsession, and just leave me craving more and more.  He wonders if this lifestyle will be enough for me in the future, and thinks that I might be always seeking the next "level of satisfaction."

And my answer is always "I have no idea," because I do have no idea.  There is no way for me to know if this lifestyle will be enough for me--if it will satisfy my future emotional and physical needs.  All I know is that it satisfies me today.  I am happy right now, and I cannot predict how I will feel in the future, what the circumstances will be, or how our relationship will evolve over the years.  I truly hope that we both remain adventurous when it comes to sex and DD--I think it would be sad if we did not always seek out new and exciting ways to satisfy each other.

But there is also some part of me that wonders where the sexual thrills end--is there ever an attainable level of sexual "nirvana" in life?  Is it human nature to ever be satisfied with what we have and not wish for more? Honestly, I don't think our brains are wired to be completely satisfied.  We crave the "dopamine rush" that accompanies the activities we love to do, but the more we do something we love, the harder it is for our brain to achieve a dopamine rush from it.  The phrase "too much of a good thing" absolutely exists within our brains, and, when one thing no longer satisfies us, we move onto something else.  We find something else to give us the rush.

I wonder about all of that, but I don't worry about it, because there is one thing about which I'm certain--my relationship with my husband will never be too much of a good thing.  We've been together for seven years, and my knees seem to get weaker and weaker, and my stomach has more butterflies than ever before.  But even if those butterflies go away, that's not what makes our relationship last.  Our communication and our willingness to try is what makes a good thing better and better.  We talk frequently about what we want to try, what we want to improve, and what we appreciate about each other. And, remember, my husband is very good at foreseeing possible problems--so, in fact, we solve many of our problems before they even arise (or do we create them??)!

I have to say I am very much enjoying this stage of my life with my husband.  I feel so blessed, and it's been nice to have some time to myself to think it through.  I think I've had more than enough time, though, and I'm ready for him to be home now!  One more week :)

N-O-P-(E)

It's time for N, O, and P.  NOPE.  According to Urban Dictionary, there are several definitions of the word "Nope." There seems to be a consensus among various sources, though, that "Nope" is somehow different than "No."  It is a variant of the word "No" and there are some situations where "Nope" simply fits better. Here are some different definitions and examples, slightly altered so as to pertain to our D/D lifestyle:

NOPE

1. The best response to a sub who is trying to argue or debate with you; the ultimate comeback that is immediately followed by a spanking.
     Example
     Sub:  "You are so wrong!  My way was the right way!"
     Dom:  "Nope." *takes Sub over lap for spanking*

2. "No" or "negative."  An emphatic form of "no," implying that the Dom's answer will not be changing in the future--often used when the Dom has to say no repeatedly.

     Example

     Sub:  "Are we done yet?"

     Dom:  "Nope."

     Sub:  "Can I get off your lap yet?"

     Dom:  "Nope."

     Sub:  "Can I leave the corner now?"

     Dom:  "Nope."

3.  The reaction a sub has when seeing a scary spanking implement, e.g. Lexan cane

     Example

     *Sub walks into bedroom and sees Lexan cane and paddle laying on the bed.*

     Sub:  *backs away slowly* "Nope nope nope nope nope..."

4.  A flat-out refusal; the complete and ultimate rejection of orders.

     Dom:  "Your task for tomorrow is to write me a three-page reflection on respect.  Now over my lap."

     Sub:  *"Nope."

     *Highly un-recommended response.

5.  A word to express when a sub knows what she is attempting will not be successful.

     Dom:  "You are going to be punished for this."

     Sub:  "You shouldn't punish me because I really tried to do the right thing.  I even prepared, thought ahead, wrote instructions, and...um...nope, OK."  *gives in and goes over knee*

6.  The most common response from women when a man asks for anal sex.

     Man:  "Would you like to try something new?"

     Woman:  "Sure, sounds exciting!"

     Man:  "Anal sex..."

     Woman:  "Nope."

     Man:  "I'll be gentle..."

     Woman:  "Nope."

A message of caution to the subs of Blogland:  Just because you can use the word "Nope" doesn't mean you should.  I wouldn't recommend reenacting any of these scenarios.  If you simply can't resist, perhaps you should follow it up with a "Sir," so as to make it slightly more respectful.

Nope, Sir!

A Promise/Threat

OK, my A-Z challenge came to a grinding halt, as I knew it would.  I am now working during the day and rehearsing for a show at night, so I don't have the time to commit daily like I did at the beginning of June.

I may finish out the challenge throughout the summer, but, for now, I am glad to be busy, because my husband is gone for a month and I miss him :(

As usual, he's keeping a list of my naughty deeds while he's gone, and he's promised me a "sore bottom" for them when he gets home.  And I'm not going to get it all at once either--he has promised/threatened to spread it out, so that my bottom is warm and sore frequently to make up for a month-long break!

I have to say, I'm looking forward to it...a lot ;)

My Knight in Shining Loafers

For K and L, I wanted to share the story of what my husband was wearing the first time I met him.  I met him far away from where either of us live--we were both volunteering with an organization in the south after Hurricane Katrina hit in 2005.

I wouldn't say it was love at first sight.  In fact, my now-husband was wearing one of the weirdest outfits I had ever seen.  From the feet up, this is what he was wearing:

Loafers with socks

Gym shorts

A camouflage jacket

And to complete the ensemble, a boonie cap.

"Stand back, ladies," I said, upon seeing him.  "This one's mine."

No, that's not really what I said.  I thought his outfit was weird, but I didn't let that deter me from getting to know him.  And come to find out, his regular shoes had been stolen, which is why he was wearing the loafers.

"Ah!" I said, "Because the outfit makes so much sense without the loafers..."

A Joke

What did the HoH say to the donkey graduating from college?

You're such a smart ass!

Har, har, har.  REALLY lame, I know.  I couldn't think of anything better today.

Ice Cream Irony

Since it's summer and in the 80's here today, I want to talk about my favorite dessert (or, in some cases, favorite meal), ice cream!

You'll never guess my favorite flavor.  Well, maybe you will when I tell you that it's really ironic.

My favorite flavor used to be chocolate chip cookie dough:

I still like cookie dough a lot, and I usually get it when I go to an ice cream stand, but I usually mix it with some sort of delicious fruity ice cream, like black raspberry:

Or blueberry cheesecake:

Or a newer delicious creation, perfect for my PMSing self, salted caramel:

But I wouldn't say any of these above flavors are my all-time favorite ice cream.  No, that honor goes to...

VANILLA!!

Vanilla is the best!  It's so creamy and vanilla-y tasting, and it goes with everything.  You can put fresh berries, hot fudge, or caramel on it, instantly enhance any kind of cake or pie imaginable, and you can even pour some root beer over it and enjoy a tasty, summertime beverage.  As much as I like actual melt-in-your-mouth chocolate, I really don't like chocolate ice cream.  I prefer ice creams with vanilla bases, and it's definitely the kind I buy the most in pint/quart sizes.

I also wonder how vanilla came to be known as the plan Jane of ice creams, because vanilla is a rather exotic flavor.  I mean, vanilla beans are grown mostly in Mexico, Tahiti, and Madagascar, people!  If that's not exotic, I don't know what it is!

Despite its reputation as the missionary-style of ice creams, it will always be my favorite flavor.  In fact, I bought a pint yesterday to go with my quart of local strawberries, and I ended up eating the whole pint :(

I felt so guilty afterward, ugh.  I wish my husband were around to spank me, but, alas, I must find other ways of curbing my PMS cravings.