Having persevered throughout January and the first week of February I have abandoned the 365 questions. I think the idea is a great one, but these questions are really too dull. Maybe I should try to come up with a better set for next year, but if anyone sees me start with this same set next January 1st please, just shoot me (or the virtual version of it).
What is your favourite piece of art you own?
This is a small part of my glasses and other nicknack cabinet. The cat also serves as a candle holder and was bought for me by a patient when I left my last job as a frontline nurse. The glasses behind are locally made and were a wedding present from a neighbour I had known my whole life when I married. The mug was from my ex husbands grandma (will also be claimed I expect) from the silver jubilee of 1935. The bottle behind a gin bottle from Amsterdam.
It is the place I lived during my marriage and where I brought up my son. It is a place where I have been happy, really happy. True, there has been sadness here, but to be fair the happiness has outweighed the pain and the tears.
We moved to the house when my son was a baby, just 3 months old. He sat for the first time, he laughed and he cried. He walked his first steps, climbed his first stairs. We nurtured him and he grew to be a lovely little, then bigger boy.
When my ex betrayed me, I took refuge in this place. I retreated into a solitary life at times, just me and him. Later his father returned and we were happy after a while.
There have been birthdays, family events, barbecues, parties.
There have been arguments and there have been tears. Too many. The relationship with my ex falling apart, the challenges of living with a growing teenager struggling to find his way in the world.
More recently Master and I have enjoyed some great days and nights here. Kinky fun, kinky and straight sex. I have submitted, I have dressed up for him. I have cooked meals and we have enjoyed great wine with them. We have laughed together.
Sometimes when I sit here alone I can see and hear almost 26 years of my life in little bite size chunks. Happy and sad.
This house has been a home to us and is is still my home. It will remain so until I take my things and try to make another place my home. I suspect it will take a while.
Just over a week ago, while driving over to a cinema close to Master’s home, I listened to the inauguration of the 45th president of the USA. Having observed the way in which Trump rose in popularity over the past couple of years and then was elected, I was interested to hear what he would actually say. Being the even minded person I am, I thought that his words could be taken one of two ways, that overall perhaps the measures he proposed would be good for the country or else they would be very very bad. I had a hunch that his idea of putting America and Americans first would be less good for everyone else. It turns out that they probably won’t be brilliant for many of his own population either.
Whatever the long term effects of policy on healthcare (which seems to involve dismantling what is there without a clue as to a replacement), on abortion and women’s rights, on human rights, on creating jobs by building pipelines and roads, on walls along borders or immigration. It seems to me that Trump wishes to control peoples lives, he wants to stop free speech and perhaps free thought. He wants to instil his beliefs in others, never mind whether they are based on misinformation, lies or bigotry.
Now apparently you can’t visit, or return to the USA if you are from a list of countries where the main religion is islam, and probably you would be wise not to try visit if you are moslem anyway. Apparently people’s political and religious beliefs are being reviewed by border immigration through social media contained on their phone. This kind of thing will probably spread to other visitors or even Americans returning home, whether Moslem or not.
Discrimination breeds fear and bigotry. It makes people intolerant and it causes people to lash out against each other. People become angry, they group together and convince themselves and each other that they need to lash out and to kill. My son was born during the first gulf war. I remember watching the news at night, while pregnant and wondering what kind of world I was bringing him up in. People were dropping bombs and missiles on each other, ordinary people as well as those in the military were held hostage. Death and destruction abounded. During those pre- 9/11 days we thought this was the worst it could get.
How wrong we were. It seems to me we have learnt nothing from the world wars of the 20th century, or anything that has come along to test us since. We are intolerant of the difference of others, and rather than try to understand we lash out and we kill.
I wish I felt positive about the next 4 years of the Trump presidency, but I don’t. If he believes that a country can prosper on the back of hate and bigotry he is wrong. If we think we are safe because we live across an ocean from America and can avoid the consequences, we are wrong.
Earlier this month, Master and I were in Belgium. For the first time, I visited the area where some of the first world war battles took place. 100 years later this is a bleak and sad area, but an area where people are respectful of the past, of the suffering that occured and the sacrifice that took place. Where people fought because they believed they would defeat tyranny. Or they fought to defend their ruler and their country. The result was carnage and really there were no winners. It didn’t stop further war and it hasn’t stopped this sad world in which we find ourselves living.
|Tyne Cot Cemetery|
|Last post at Ieper|
|Langemark German Cemetery|
I have written quite a lot on here about how my life has changed and how happy I am with the way it is now. I want to be able to explore new experiences, whether through travel, reading, film or music. I want to push the barriers on what I previously thought were my kinky limits. I want to please and serve Master in a way that I wouldn’t have imagined in previous relationships. Ultimately I want us to enjoy ourselves and feel fulfilled in our lives. We don’t always hit the right spot, but in the main, life is good.
Unless we are away somewhere or it is some kind of holiday time I wouldn’t usually eat dinner with Master on a Monday. Today though, he was in town for the afternoon and so we met up after I had finished work and had a meal in a restaurant together. The place was supposed to be German themed, and certainly the beer and food menus suggest a German flavour. However, Master’s schnitzel wasn’t as good as either of us have tasted in Germany. Plus his chips were rather like boulders of potato, fried (apparently 3 times). I had calves liver and mash, which was nice. I don’t know if this is German, but nevertheless it was good. We had a good wine, which was Romanian, but over all the meal was a disappointment and was certainly over priced. We did however enjoy some people watching and got to try some where new.
Still, it was great to meet and to eat together on a Monday night, next time though we may choose somewhere less pretentious, somewhere less pricey and with better food!
In comparison with some other times of my life nothing is so hard at the moment. In myself I am happier than I have been so often in the past. My job is going well and though I am busy I am getting recognition for the things I am doing.
Without wanting to tempt fate, my mum’s health is good and though lonely, she is coping with her life without my dad. She is considering downsizing and also thinking about making that move to be nearer to my brother. He lives in an area where housing prices are lower since it is further away from London.
I am enjoying my time at my slimming club and have made friends there. I need to focus much more on actually losing some more weight, but it is not a massive deal. I plan to explore becoming a slimming consultant, and wonder whether ultimately that might be the part time job I need on top of my NHS pension, but we shall see.
Master and I are approaching our 3 year anniversary and things are going well. We admit we need to explore our kinky life a little more, and will try to make 2017 the year for that. I want to develop my blog and have my own domain and WordPress installed but am struggling with moving everything over. I need to spend some time and learn a bit about that side of things. Then I want to try to write some fiction. I am hoping our trip to Eroticon will help with those things. I think perhaps that is the hardest thing and since that isn’t really so bad, I have very little to worry about!
Two weeks ago we had our first play time for, well who knows how long. Master used and abused His slave and she was rewarded with a large number of orgasms. Later that evening found the slave wearing a kind of net dress and promising that more time would be spent on display, ready for Master’s use.
When we have those conversations we completely mean them. But life isn’t just about having a kinky time, about kneeling at His feet and waiting to be given instructions on how to best provide service. Being owned, being His slave is just part of what I am and what we do. But it is always there, always in the background. I would go as far as to say that every day, whether we are together or not I remember my place and I am also clear that He does too.
Last weekend we travelled to France. I needed to check up on my apartment to make sure it had survived the holiday season (I pretty much had guests staying continuously from June to October) and to think about the things that will need doing before next year. We both had thoughts about the kinky stuff we might get up to while there, but as is often the case, things just got in the way. Things started to go slightly off course when, after dinner and wine we found ourselves in our favourite bar and jointed in the Karaoke. Master’s rendition of Que reste-t-il de nos amours (I know I had never heard of it either), will be long remembered, plus I videoed it!
Plans for the next morning went out of the window since we woke closer to lunch time and were a ‘little’ hung over. After a leisurely coffee we made our way to the supermarket for supplies, but since I hadn’t actually got around to checking what, other than food might be required I came away without stocking up on cleaning necessities etc.
It was by then a beautiful sunny afternoon and warm enough to eat our lunch on the apartment balcony and then we took a stroll around the lake. The scenery was lovely, the weather beautiful. We saw flamingos and other birds, as well as plenty of autumnal plants. However as dusk fell and we found ourselves on a particularly sandy part of the Etang a combination of midges and mosquitoes hit us. We must have looked like a comedy duo as we tried to sweep them out of our hair and around our faces. Next morning, Master discovered he had been bitten badly on his head and under one eye (usually it is me who suffers in this way).
On Sunday, after a relaxing morning we headed out to visit a small and very pretty town called St Guilhem-le-Désert. Whenever we are in France, we try to visit at least one new place (for either or us or both) and this place has the remains of an old monastery surrounded by quaint shops, little alley ways and over looked by the Hérault Gorges. Sadly the day was too short to properly explore the area, but it is something to come back to.
Monday morning and we began cleaning up. A realisation dawned that I hadn’t quite achieved what we had travelled to France for. I hadn’t replenished cleaning stocks and hadn’t done any real maintenance. We hadn’t done anything kinky, much less had sex. But we had fun and made new memories. As Master has said since we demonstrated that we are growing old disgracefully. Do you know what we are living life and we are loving it too. A successful weekend then!
Since my last post.
The Olympics started last weekend which serves as a reminder of just how long it has taken me to get to this point in my life. Four years ago I had been seeing S for a few months. I was living with the euphoria of a new relationship, my first for over 30 years and I was yet to have to face up to my actions. Life was good, but I was busily dancing around the reality of what I was doing. That I was doing to my ex what had previously done to me. He was oblivious and yet to meet the woman he now lives with, yet to lie to me about his whereabouts. I was happy in the illusion that things with S would turn into something long lasting, that he was the Dom I wanted and needed. It would be another 18 months before that relationship would finally end and I would meet Master.
Fast forward to now and life remains kind of scary, though in a different way. I have spent this entire year preparing to sell the house and move in with Master, but still I am not there. I procrastinate on a weekly if not daily basis. The goals I set myself 6 months ago for today are still not complete. I want to make this move, but it takes more energy than I sometimes feel I possess.
That final step is scary. It means giving up my home and moving to somewhere that while I am comfortable to exist in, is not somewhere I can yet call that place. Home. A conversation with Master last night brought home to me that I am still not sure that moving in with him is what I truly want. Don’t get me wrong, I want to be with him every day, not just at weekends and holidays with the odd extra day and night thrown in. But giving up this new found independence, my own place, where I have space, solitude, even silence is proving hard to do. Plus there is the knowledge that I will be living in a home I don’t own and never will, a place that if something happened to him I might not be able to stay in (even though he has told me that he will make plans for that possibility.
But, perhaps speaking my fears aloud last night did some good. I have spent some of today with a new energy to sort through things and I know that I have already planned some of the things I need to do over the coming days and into next week.
This was never going to be easy, perhaps it shouldn’t have taken me this length of time to sort myself out, but I know that I am moving ever closer to what I need to do and where I need to be.
It’s just that, it really is kind of scary.