Bemused But Willing

There was an amazing amount of pure male satisfaction in his voice as he rumbled, 

"I haven't come on your face in a while…" 

I pondered the relative meaning of "in a while" as I groped blindly for the damp cloth I knew was nearby, but wisely kept my mouth shut. Instead, I contented myself with a simple, "Indeed, sir" -- and wiped the little puddles of cum off of my closed eyelids. 

Blinking owlishly, I looked up at him … and he began to laugh.

you know… I don't really get the whole "come on your face" thing…

   but I adore the look it puts on his face.

So..., Anytime you want, Sir.

(Just please keep that damp cloth handy…?)

-Your sticky-eyelash'd slut  

Thanksgiving Bewilderment

Once again, I find myself puzzled by many things in an image…

-What makes her think that those are good hunting shoes?

-Exactly how much starch is in that apron?

-Why is the turkey standing still?

-Where are its feet?
-Why does that gun flare out at the end of its muzzle?

-And if this is what she wears to hunt, what on earth will she don to cook the bird?

(Really, don't these questions bug you??) 

Happy Thanksgiving, All!

A Visitation of Creatures

I know I've mentioned before how I long to have a dog. It's simply not feasible and wouldn't be fair to the poor thing if I tried, so I've resigned myself to being pet-less. But that doesn't stop me from whimpering quietly when I see pictures like this:

It occurred to me this morning, however, that when you live in the country, you really don't need a pet -- because you can share everyone else's.

My yard is a haven for numerous cats, free-range chickens, and marauding ducks. (BookMan has a wandering peacock that favors his porch as its latrine, but my neighbors aren't that classy…)

There are plenty of the larger domesticated animals to be seen -- horses and cattle grace the nearby fields (the goats are gone, alas.) Pigs, sheep, and emu, while not immediate neighbors, are not uncommon sights.

Mother Nature shares, too. Deer and rabbits plague my garden; coyotes wander the power line corridor; wild turkeys flex their slender avian muscles by stopping traffic as they leisurely cross the roads; squirrels, chipmunks, skunks, and vole burrow through my lawn. The snake has moved off my porch but he's still in evidence… And there are mice, of course. Every year, they get into my house and scritch through the walls -- and every year I put down lots of poison, to be rewarded by blissful silence -- and the occasional pong of quiet decay.

Really, I've got just about everything except dogs.

People are selfish about sharing their dogs… 

The poor things get locked up or tied up, never to come a-visiting.

*sigh*

But still, there's much to be said for the amusement factor in watching a duck run...  :-)

White Space

I was listening to an episode of Erotic Awakening the other morning and both Dan and Dawn mentioned how irritating they find it when people evaluate a person's thoughts strictly by the dictionary definition of the words used to express those thoughts, rather than looking deeper, to the feeling that was being conveyed.

Naturally, this sent spasms of guilt rippling through my persnickety brain, because, well…, 

I may have mentioned my motto that words matter...? 

*cough*

Yet, for all that I'm Word Woman, I do try not to lose sight of the fact that words are just tools to convey what we feel -- and sometimes (or for some people) they aren't the best tool to use. So you have to remember that words are only a piece of the communication -- you also need to know how to listen to the spaces and the background. 

I learned this early with Grandpa, but BG is the one who benefits.

Because he's not a man who's big on apologizing, my dom. He does if he's been thoughtless, but when the conflict is between a deliberate action and the effect that action had on me, forget it. I know not to wait for words that will not come.

What I do get, however, are non-verbal offerings of reparation.

The precise action varies each time but they boil down to the same thing -- he lets me in little bit more. He lowers his guard, invites me in, allows himself to be a smidge more vulnerable. 

That is something you cannot give in words.

And it wouldn't it be a shame if I missed it because words were all I could hear?

Are You Ready to Bake??

Because it's time once more to:

Tuesday  Wednesday, Dec. 10, 2014 will be the Five Year Anniversary of the Great Online Cookie Exchange Extravaganza ... (the crowd cheers)... and we'd love for you to join us in the fun! 

The rules are simple. Just post a recipe for a holiday goodie on Tuesday  Wednesday, Dec. 10, 2014.

(The name isn't strictly accurate ... we welcome all types of goodies.)

Anyone is welcome to join in ... but

    There's One Condition:

If you want your blog to show up in the official list of participant links, you MUST contact me (Jz) by Monday Tuesday, Dec. 9, with both your name and the URL of your blog. 

Ed. Note:

One of these years, I'll get this right the very first shot.

Yes, Ronnie, Wednesday is the 10th. That is the correct date of the exchange.

Wednesday the 10th.

To get on the list, please contact me by Tuesday the 9th.

Thanks for the catch, ma'am!  :-)

This is always a fun day and I really hope you'll consider playing along!

Just Because I Like It

Who Lurks There?

It's Love Our Lurkers time once more…

You know, when we bloggers tell all you silent readers how glad we are that you're out there, even if you've never uttered so much as a peep in our comments.

LOL this year is even more meaningful to me because it gives me a chance to thank my lurkers for getting me through a very tough time this past year. 

I fought hard to keep writing here while BG and I were on the outs, but I don't think I could have kept at it if it weren't for my silent audience. Because I don't write for just myself -- I want to reach out, maybe make people smile… or think…, possibly even make a new friend or two. And knowing my lurkers were still out there, still reading, gave me the impetus I needed to keep pushing ahead.

Your quiet presence provided a focus that helped steady me.

Which meant the world to me… and gave me the intestinal fortitude to hang on.

So, thank you, thank you, thank you.

Even your silence is much appreciated.

HOWEVER…

If you just happened to want to decloak for the day and say "hi" (which you can do anonymously, btw ... just click the radio button that says "Anonymous" at the bottom of the "Choose an identity" request,) I would be even more appreciative of your wonderful selves!

Just a quick hi..., or a wave..., 

     maybe a knock-knock joke...? :-D

Whatever you decide, know that I value your readership, in whatever form. 

Deal-breakers and Sticky Bits

There's some truly incredible eye candy that has moved into the office next to mine. 

  (oh, to be 20 years younger!)

I encouraged my more age-appropriate co-worker to check him out…

But, no.

"He's really cute, amazing voice, gets a lot of points overall -- but he wears cargo pants… and I just can't."

Which makes me laugh pretty hard, even tho' I get it.

We each have our own deal-breakers, whether or not they make sense to anyone else. There are just some things that make certain people a "no-go".

I got thinking, tho', about the other side of the equation.

That place where certain people register as "can't-stop's"

And I'm wondering... what exactly gives them that sticky bit? 

       (a sticky bit, roughly speaking, is a tiny permission setting on a file that makes it impossible to delete that file unless you are the creator.)

I suspect it's tempting to say that the "stick" comes from love, but I don't honestly think that's what it is. Love may certainly be part of it but I've been able to walk away from someone I love, just as I've been walked away from by someone I know truly loves me. And BG's sticky bit kicked in well before any higher emotions (of whatever name) were formed.

So, what is it that triggers that deep-seated sense of commitment, do you suppose?

(I don't have an answer here, I'm just sharing my wonderings.)

Ideas, anyone?

Snippet #76

me:  

Well, I told you the best thing about that glass dildo is the perfect strategic placement of those little bumps…

him: 

     I know you told me - but I wanted to see for myself…

     So I did...

     Repeatedly…

     Well past the point where you wanted to stop…

     Right into actual pain…

         

         That was FUN!

         

A Brief Show of Hands...

Does this title strike anyone besides me as just the tiniest bit contradictory?

(actual e-book)

As The Mind Bounces

I whammed the beejeepers out of my toe the other day and as I was contemplating the pitiful, multi-colored wreck that resulted (if a thing is worth hurting, it's worth hurting well?) I found myself thinking, "not a lovesome thing, God wot"...

Really, it's absolutely maddening that my brain will throw up these pointy, irritating shards of a quotation and then refuse to disgorge the rest of it. Because, of course, I cannot let it be… No, no. I must know…it's a personal challenge. (Clearly, I once knew the whole quote, so spit it out, brain!) So I seethe for hours in itchy discontent until I finally stop wracking my brain and simply Look It Up. (One of the few times I will concede the superiority of the interwebz over books: Google just plain wipes the floor with Bartlett's…)

So, anyhow, I did the search.

And because I know you want to know - it's "a garden" that is a lovesome thing (God wot)

But once again, I couldn't just stop there.

Nope, I had to read the whole article.

(Apparently, I didn't learn my lesson from that whole unfortunate giraffe epsidode…)

But I can't help it -- you learn the most fascinating stuff when you keep digging!

To wit: did you know that this one very popular line from that one fairly atrocious Victorian poem has gifted the English language with the most superb word?

Are you ready for it...? .....

     Godwottery

Isn't that magnificent????

Seriously… I am thoroughly enchanted.

The mere sound of the syllables is enough to win my heart, but it gets better...

   Just read the definition:

"Godwottery can mean two things. First, it can mean the use of affected archaisms, and verily, the poet that useth godwottery is a tosser, iwis.

Godwottery can also mean tacky gardening. The collective noun for a horde of gnomes and charming water-features is godwottery." (From The Inky Fool)

There is A Word for Excessive Gnome Usage!!

(really, can you blame me for being over the moon??)

So, naturally, being completely charmed by this discovery, I was then moved to read several more posts by the Inky Fool, which led, of course, to following the side links to books he has written (Horologicon - a compedium of arcane English words, organized along the lines of a medieval book of hours; and Etymologicon - a circular stroll through the hidden connections of the English language) and the next thing I know, I've ordered one for giving to BookMan for Christmas, and put the other on my own Christmas wish list!

So to recap, in the space of seven minutes, I skipped from a mangled toe to heinous poetry to coined words to fascinating reads to successful Christmas shopping… 

Sometimes I don't know whether to kiss my brain or shoot myself!

Ten to One - Day Ten

(Editor's note: so, how telling is it that I wrote a post about my fear of losing my mind, and gave it the wrong title?? I've changed it from the incorrect Day One to the correct Day Ten -- just because I'm persnickety, but I freely and publicly admit that I laughed pretty hard at myself over that one…)

Day Ten: One confession (obtuse or specific)

Wow. How does a person answer this?

One of the definitions of confession is "an acknowledgement of incompetence."

Well, that's pretty much this whole blog, 

     but I can't cram five-plus years into a single post.

I could also take the "acknowledge or disclose sin or guilt" approach.

And certainly, my sins are numerous ... but they pretty much all fall within the purview of "fallible human" - and I'm not sure that that really counts.

Yet once again, I'm stuck with answering the question as it stands.

     hmmmmm….

OK, well, it's not pretty or amusing, but I'll go with confessing my biggest fear:

     I am scared to death of losing my mind.

I've got all the same contributing factors of Alzheimers that my dad had - and I was right by his side as his faculties slowly deserted him, so I got to see the devastation up close and personal… It's a horrible, frightening, merciless way to go -- and I won't even have a loved one around to help me, should that be my lot.

...

I'll also confess that I didn't enjoy buzzkilling your entire day on you.

So here's a grin for you, to make amends...  ;-)

At least we can call the ten day thing over, anyhow!  :-)

Ten to One - Day Nine

Day Nine: Two images that describe my life right now

Well, there's work...

and then there's play...

Overall, I think the picture is good!  :-D