So…I was reading a blog that I’m a subscriber to…they show up in my email, which is easy and convenient don’t you think? And I discovered to my horror that I had not put their blog on *my* blogroll (when I was on hers…).
Trust me, cammies…it was just about forgetfulness and blog-neglect and not at all about liking your blog!!
So if YOU are reading here, and have a blog and AREN’T on my blogroll, send me an email and I’ll spend a day next week catching up on my links. Why, I’m so behind that I’ve not even changed my blog header in weeks! And you know how I enjoy changing things up.
I’m trying, *really* trying, to keep writing here. I am writing a vanilla novella for NaNoWriMo month, and between the two, this blog might go a day or two between posts…I have lots and lots of words, but not so much of time.
Why, you ask? (and no, it’s not about family or obligations, I’ve been managing those for months now. We’re in a groove there.)
Well, you see, it’s the most dreaded season of the year here just now.
It’s called “Holy FUCK where did all those leaves come from and the city only picks up bags until Thanksgiving week and OMG how are we going to get them all bagged up before then?” Season.
Really. It is.
I can’t do lots of bending, so my boys help there, but I’m manning (my feminist friends cringe at that–don’t you? Ha!) the leaf blower, creating giant mountains of leaves.
That’s an over- four-foot-tall pile of leaves there…. and that’s only from my small-ish back lawn…there’s so much more. There are more than 25 maples around my house, and more than 10 of them are over 75 years old. I used to be daunted by the task, back when I did it solo, but now my kids are all helpers, and that makes the task more fun. A long time ago, someone said “many hands make light work” but obviously that person had never raked leaves, as even with many hands, it is hard work! We just make it fun, is all.
On the plus side, that big-assed leaf blower is rather like a full-body vibrator. . . vroom, vroom! mmmmm!
I also need to write a sweet little Master and nilla tale. We had another brief meeting last weekend…good gods that Man knows exactly how to turn me on, and make me a panting needy slut. I know not everyone who reads here is a pain-slut, and not everyone “gets it”…that deep-seated need for pain…but He feeds me these tender little doses; subtly, so that no one around us would know…and He knows it makes me giddy. I *crave* the hurt, I *need* it…and when I get it?
I LOVE wearing the marks He leaves on me. Love wearing them–physical reminders during even the most stress-filled weeks where my place is, that I am loved for all my sluttyness, and that being who and what I am inside–is okay.
But that must come later. For now, I’ll scrape out time to slip over here and pound out a story or two or three…and dream of a time when I have oodles of time to sit, write and make you all squirm like naughty boys and girls.. 🙂
(sweet dreams are made of this…)