Under threat

Wandering into the bedroom one noticed that the pegs have made it from the craft supplies (the bag in which they came home) to the end of the bed...

Now if one avoids going in there, for any reason, it should be safe...

Right?

It was a weird day

It started out with the unexpectedly early arrival of a parcel, the hairdresser double booking and having to push the appointment back half an hour and a short game that was still being played, two and a half hours later. Even Blogger had some issues going on; comments disappeared, viewers disappeared, hell at one stage even Blogger disappeared. Maybe it was something in the ether. Either way the smart thing to do would have been to stay in bed and pull up the covers...

Of course we didn't do that. We chose to be adult and muddle on.

Sighs we achieved nothing other than dancing in circles, without the benefit of music :(

Auntie always said...

If you can't say something nice, then don't say anything at all. Of course she could turn silence into a weapon, but then she was British. It seems to be a talent, that ability to convey so much with different types of silence. There is heavy with disapproval silence, the disdainful silence, the I'm playing no speakies silence and of course the good old you have displeased me silence. But enough of small traumas meted out by family.

This was simply a bad day and one is putting back the pieces in some semblance of order. That is to say reeling back a few emotions from the brink of war... a little late in the day, but if one had a temper that could be checked before the catastrophe, then it wouldn't be such a ferocious temper. 

Sighs forget about slave fail this was more failing to be a reasonable human being...

Dignity and respect down the hole

The weather is getting warmer with every passing day and for that reason there were naked breasts bobbing around the kitchen, minding their own business. As the day slides into evening though, it starts to get nippy and one was just contemplating finding a t-shirt when He pounced. He stood there fondling and generally being annoying as one squirmed to get away, while sandwiched between him and the kitchen bench...

I'm just trying to keep them warm He protested

There is a difference between warming and molesting and you Sir, have crossed the line.

One stood there, balanced precariously upon one's dignity...

And He laughed

Sighs there is no respect around here at all...

Self assessment

You know how some mornings you wake up and mentally run through your body assessing for aches and pains and what doesn't feel right? Oh come on one can't be the only person who does that... surely? It's part of the waking up process. It comes right before the first tentative stretch, which is followed by groping around for something to pull on before stumbling out of bed to find coffee.

Well this morning the health report came back to give notice that the only thing that didn't hurt was a couple of toes and the odd finger joint. Everything else hurt somewhere. There is even a little spot on the abs that hurts like a bitch when stretching. And that was before they were actively engaged to haul one's reluctant arse out of bed... then they just screamed their protestations.

And what is the point of this pity party you may be wondering? Well the thought had occurred as one was pottering around with a new quilt...

Quilts are done in stages around here and there are usually three on the go at any time;

One in the design process; fabrics being hunted for, design ideas being refined, blocks designed/ researched and plans being drawn.

One being made; blocks being made and last minute changes to things like borders and binding choices are being considered.

One on the hoop; where the actual quilting of the layer sandwich is done.

As one quilts by hand it can take up to six years to produce a quilt. It's aaaall about the journey :)

Anyway as one was peering at a new quilt (that is at the being made stage) the mind was musing on whether we are kinky at all...

Oh sure we have some sexual practices that some would regard as kinky, but Fet is full of kinky people. People who are way kinkier than we will ever be...

In fact we are positively dull in comparison to some of those people.

But do we actually rate as kinky? Is a power exchange (hate that term, but that is a topic for another time) kinky in its own right because if it is, then going to work could be regarded as kink. And while it is a pain in the arse, very few would regard working as kinky.

So all of this was floating in the mind, as one pushed completed blocks around the top of the table and then a moment of clarity floated to the forefront. On any given day one is in so much pain and so stiff that one couldn't partake in kinky acts at all. Maybe one gets the kink jollies gratified in the gym to the point that, when added to the power exchange (still hate that term), the kink cup literally runneth over.

OMG! One small slave is self medicating...

Message received

A text from Him this morning...

Love you my little death wish girl

Don't know whether to feel amused or threatened...

Bastard!