Monday, July 30, 2018

This One's a Keeper

In the States, if it is of a specific species, a fish has to be a certain length in order for it to "be a keeper." If it is, then you put it in your wire basket or on a stringer and keep it cool in the water until it is time to go home, clean, cook, and then eat the fish.  The Game Warden (nature's police) will fine you a lot of money and take away your fishing license if you are found with a fish that is undersized and if you have too many of a certain kind of fish of which there is a state limit to catch for the day.  A couple of days ago, I was able to quickly pack and make a last minute get away to my parents' home in order to go fishing with my dad.  Storm drove me the two hours it takes to get here, visited for just a little bit with the family, and then drove back home to hold down the fort there this week while I am gone.  He likes for me to be able to fish as he knows how much I truly love it.  Especially when I get to go with my dad.

I told my dad last night when we were standing on his docks, casting in our lines, and talking to one another that, "The weather is perfect, it is exactly the time of night (sunset) where the fish will be biting and I am with my favorite fishing buddy (Storm doesn't fish.)  I would rather be here with you in this moment than anywhere else."  Later, my mom told me that my dad preciously told her that I said that about him and that it made him feel really nice.  For the past few weeks, he has been sending me pictures of the fish he has caught and some details in attempts to entice me to get to his house ASAP.  I would be here every day if I could.

In between fishing all day, we take breaks and have fish fries for dinner before we head back out to the lake again.  Here at their home, my parents continue to do that whole bickering thing that they have as long as I have known them.  It often has some element of humor, but not necessarily to either one of them.  Just the observer. Me in this case.  My mom has a huge rear end.  She bent over to get something out of the fridge and my dad was behind her, looked at me, and acted like he was going to back hand swat her rear end. Before I could even start laughing, my mom says, "I know what you're doing back there. Quit it!" Earlier I had seen their giant cheeseboard that was on the counter and so as my mom left the room, I grabbed it by the handle, got my dad's attention, raised my eyebrows at him like, "want to use this?" and I motioned in the air like I was taking a baseball swing, and he silently mouths the words, "YES, YES!," as he vigorously nodded his head.  Oh gosh, if they only knew, huh?  And, please do not suggest to me in the comment section that my parents may have a secret here because there is no way on God's green earth that my mother would ever let my father be her HOH.

Between my dad and me, there is some teasing that goes on when we fish together.  If one of us catches a small fish, the other one of it calls it a sardine. If one of us catches a big fish, we are both happy,  but then if the other of us catches a bigger one, then the previous one becomes a minnow. When I pack him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich along with one I have made for myself and then it is lunchtime on the pier,  I give him his sandwich and he acts like I just handed him a Golden Ticket to tour the Willie Wonka Factory.  He loves it that much.  He is so dramatic that it is hilarious sometimes.  But, I do have to admit that it is hard to beat a nice PB & J when you're very hot and hungry after fishing all morning.  That and a bottle of water and then we're all ready to fish again.

Storm and I don't like being apart , but like I said he encourages me to fish when I can because he knows it feeds my soul.  So he was getting ready to leave my parents' house and he embraced me in a hug that I will NEVER forget.  Yes, we have had wonderful hugs over our almost 30 year marriage.  But, this one was just different and I truly believe it is because we feel more connected because of our growing ttwd relationship.  He hugged me in the middle of the kitchen where my family was gathered.  He held me tight, close, and fully.  He whispered to me that he was going to miss me.  And then, for the very first time in this kind of situation, he gently grabbed and squeezed the back of my neck.  Oh gosh.  And then he whispered quietly but authoritatively in my ear, "Be good."   Holy smokes, I wanted to leave with him right then and check into the nearest motel and jump his bones.  We did talk about making a detour on the way here for some goofing around somewhere off in Amish land -- something we have done in the past.  We have great and very specific memories about a cornfield, a farmer and his tractor (neither of those was involved with our sexual activity, you sickos, we were trying to hide from him), a gravel road off the beaten path, and NAKED sex in the car. Woo! Woo!  But this trip, due to time constraint and other factors, we did not break any public decency laws.  This time.

If I  were to compare Storm to a big male fish that far surpasses the required length by law, I would say for sure, "This One's a  keeper!"  And, Storm, if you're reading this, Honey, and I highly suspect you are, I miss you and I love you.  Maybe we can arrange some fun in Amish Land on the way home?!

Wednesday, July 25, 2018

One Incredibly Dominant Email From Storm

I have to admit, I think this is one of the kinkiest and most dominant things Storm has ever said, required, demanded --  all of those words.  If  this isn't a hot example of what dominance could be in a relationship, weather it's d/s or ttwd or something else, then I don't know what one is.  I was longing for his dominance, but not knowing how to help him get there ..... It is in there because he comes out to boss  direct, instruct, and lead more often these days, but it is something he admits that he has to consciously work at.

Four months ago, before finding ttwd land, Storm and I set up private email accounts with some encrypted service and we used names other than our own, but things we wanted to call each other via email, so that we could send links of things back and forth and have some discussions via email because we struggle with privacy issues here in our home.  Storm set up these accounts ...... and no, neither of our names on those accounts are Storm or Windy.  They are much sexier.

Also, before I share this email, I also need to address that not all kinds of sexual intercourse are always available from one partner to the next.  Whether one partner has an injury of some sort and cannot spank or have sex, whether one of us has a hemorrhoid that makes certain activities undesirable, if one has a toothache so a blow job is out of the question, or any combination of those listed and of course many examples that I did not point out..........such as a  severe UTI.   So, I will tell you that one of these things was true in our household, and that it was not an injury, a toothache, or a hemorrhoid, so yeah, there it is. The UTI from HADES.   So I did not want to be touched.  And this wasn't a typical 3 to 5 days of discomfort, antibiotics and that orange pill and all is well.  No, no.  No, my friends.  And guess who had just discovered your ttwd blogs at this very same time?  So here I am reading all about how real ladies get spanked by their real husbands and how and why and the relationships work ...... and it was making me long to submit to Storm, but I couldn't do a dang thing about it.  I didn't know if my lady bits were burning from the UTI or out of frustration.  Well, why didn't you stop reading for the time being, Windy, you say.  Heck, no!  I've been looking for you gals for 10 years. I will take one for team UTI .   Some illnesses are constant and all we can really do is try to rest and wait until we feel better.  With chronic illnesses, I find I have good days and bad days or even a bad 23 hours but 1 good hour.  I try to tell myself that if I have had 1 good hour, I can have 2 good hours .... and build upon that even though there is a lot of push and pull with that.  So this off and on thing is what I often deal with in one manifestation or another.  So how do I practice submission when I am ill?  How is Storm supposed to  dominate me........... kindly?  Pfft.  Snooze.  Nope. I'd rather eat a bug.  And his big brother.

Then this arrived in my new email account from Storm:

I need an orgasm week. You will give it to me.

Here are my requirements for O Week:

1. You will service me daily for 7 consecutive days.

2. The week can begin on any day of the week.

3. I do not want you to tell me ahead of time which day it will begin. I will find out when it happens.

4. You do not need to feel pressure to begin immediately. I want you to begin when you feel well enough to begin. I am patient. I will wait for it. Do not apologize for not beginning yet.

5. To demonstrate your submission and desire to meet my needs, you will initiate each servicing either with words or actions. By that, I mean you can ask me or you can just start touching me.

6. Each day will begin when I return from getting breakfast and end the following morning when I leave to get breakfast. The servicing can fall anywhere in that 24-hour period. If necessary, you can wake me up in the middle of the night. As you know, I often feel more energized after a nap.

7. If you miss a day for any reason, the count will start back at zero and O Week will be extended for another 7 days. I will not remind you or be upset if a day doesn't work out. The middle of the night or early morning before I leave is always an option.

8. If you want an orgasm at any time during O Week, you will let me know. This will also demonstrate your submissive attitude to me. I always enjoy giving you orgasms. So if you want one, I want to give you one. But you must ask for it.

9. You will choose how you service me. I am just going to relax and enjoy while my beautiful submissive wife meets my sexual needs. You can use your mouth, hands, *****, *******, or lay on your stomach while I use your  *** and ****.

10. I may choose to stop the O Week before reaching 7 consecutive days. But if I do, I will make it clear to you that you can stop. If I do not say anything, assume we are going the full 7 days.

11.  During O Week, you are not required to go to bed at the same time I do. I want you to have flexibility to arrange your schedule to make it easier for you to service me.

Let me know if you have any questions. You can ask in person or email.

YIKES!!!  First let me say how he addressed my health in #4 and #5 was extremely important.  He was not setting me up for failure or trying to overwhelm me.  And so this actually was a "kind dominance" that I found quite palatable.  Line after line,  my eyes were bugging out of my head and my mouth was hanging open, but heck yeah, I kept reading!  Soon after, I went to find him in his office.  Me, "You wrote this?"  Yes, he did.  We haven't even done some of this stuff he's talking about.... EVER!  Me, "Are you serious about the (insert whatever you think it was here) ??  You would do that if I was okay with it?  Him, "I'll accept whatever you're offering."  Holy ball sacs and hello, Dominant Storm!!!

And not that it matters to you, but it matters to me, so I do want to stress that this was not a game.  Not to Storm and not to me.  Yes, it was sexual in nature, but I cannot even begin to describe the level of submissiveness that I felt when I read this and absorbed it and for however long it took me to complete the 7 days in a row.  I thought about it often during the day.... not just the sexual acts.......  he also spanked me for role affirmation in our ttwd relationship during this time, too, on a couple days where I felt physically up to it.  It made me want to sit on the floor by his feet while we watched a favorite television show every night.  It made me want to touch him outside of the bedroom.  It made me want to follow his lead.  I felt more settled despite the fact that I wasn't physically feeling very well.  I also will tell you that I sent him a couple of emails during this time reflecting upon what we had done together and how all of this was making me feel.  I cannot share them here because they are too intimate for my comfort level.

Here is how things happened next.    I initiated the first sexual act with Storm on the first night that he wrote this email.  We made it through several days...... and since we had never been an every night of the week kind of couple, I actually wondered if Storm would want to do this every single night.  So as one day turned into the next, I asked him if he thought he was going to make it all the way through (the man works many hours and has a lot of responsibilities and pressure just like your guys do/did).  And then I just added , "Maybe you should have included a foot rub as one of your options."  Not that it is sexual, it is not.  But it is kind and could be considered submissive, I think.  And plus, I am really good at it for some reason.  Well, he liked my idea so much that he said he was going to consider it an option even though he wasn't the one to think of it.  So after making it 5 days, on the 6th night, he asked me for a foot rub and I gave him a great one...... it was relaxing to him, comforting, and since it involved skin to skin contact initiated by me but requested by him, it fulfilled his requirements, he loved it, and so did I.  And then the 7th night Storm finished with a bang and so I took the first submissive challenge from my husband very seriously and I was honored to do so.  Maybe such an email does not technically fit into a ttwd relationship, I don't know.  I also don't care.  If my husband chooses to be more dominant in this way, then that comes from him and of course I am going to submit to his requests. My gosh, how could I not?  And that is my true story about one incredibly dominant email from Storm.  

Tuesday, July 24, 2018

Doctor Bacon Strips

When I turned 20, I went to my very first "big girl" appointment a couple months before marriage so that I could go on the pill.  So the older male doctor is doing whatever he is doing down there as I am NOT looking, but I am beginning to voice my discomfort because the man has fingers the size of tree trunks and I am still a virgin.  And this idiot says to me, "Well, you're getting married soon so what are you going to do then?"  Really, Dr. Bacon Strips? I am fairly positive that my future husband isn't going to leave the room when I strip down,  require me to put on an ugly paper thin baking sheet, come back in the room,  put me up in stirrups with just my socks on, pry me open with cold metal salad spoons like I have smuggled the Hope Diamond up there, and ram his ham hand in me with the lack of care in which you are doing.  But, all I said was, "Well, GEEZE, hopefully I will be excited THEN." Jerk.

Several months ago, a different doctor said I had a spring in my step and looked better.  That's great, but what he doesn't realize is that HE doesn't get the credit.  What I so badly wanted to say was that I looked better because:

1) I am wearing light makeup and lipstick, how very nonobservant of you.
2) I am being regularly spanked by my sexy husband.
3)  I have finally found some gals that share about the same kinkery that Storm and I do.
4)  I just settled on a title for my new blog.

But, of course, I did not tell him any of this as it would have made the appointment much longer, I would have ended up with a completely new diagnosis and treatment plan that may have included a straight jacket and I am not into bondage, thus, I  just let him think he was really helping me so I could get the heck out of Dodge.

Storm had driven me to this most recent appointment and on the way he asked me if I settled on a name for the blog yet and I said, "Yes," and told him which title.  He was already familiar with it as we had been throwing around ideas for a while now. He repeated, "When the Storm Whispers to the Wind........" and then he leaned onto my side of the car and whispered into my ear, "Bend Over."  So while I could not put those two words at the end of my blog title, I do often think them when I glance up at those aqua colored words once in a while.....

Sunday, July 22, 2018

Kinked and Unkinked

Sometimes, Storm and I have started  off with things that made us feel sexy or "kinked" and then something happens that was not planned and suddenly these things made us feel  not so sexy or "unkinked."  Here are a few fun examples:

1. Kinked when you're in the store aisle watching your man pick out a couple of dowel rods to spank you with.
Unkinked when you realize that he is testing them against the palm of his hand and some security guards in the back room are mostly likely going to see this on camera and think, "Dang, that lady is going to get her rear end beat tonight."

2. Kinked when you're in public and you look over to your right and see a couple sitting there and you think they look like fellow spankos.  Then whispering this insight to your husband and he tells you he was just thinking the same thing.
Unkinked when you remember you're in a church.

3.  Kinked when your man buys a new spanking implement.
Unkinked when that implement breaks while he's spanking you.

4. Kinked when you need a hand signal to tell your husband when to crank up the vibrator to the next level.
Unkinked when that signal is merely just a thumbs up.

5. Kinked when your man is using a fancy, powerful vibrator on you after a sexy spanking.
Unkinked when he switches gears on the device to make it more intense, but accidentally turns it off instead. Ugh, game over.

6. Kinked when your guy comes to bed prepared with some extra lubrication in hand.
Unkinked when that lubrication is cold as ice on your lower body parts.

7. Kinked when you get an expensive vibrating egg with remote control and test it in your hand to make sure the batteries work and everything is functioning.  Looking forward to a first time sexy experience out to dinner with your husband.
Unkinked when you're sitting in the passenger seat with a dead egg inside of you on the way to the date.   Perhaps I had been practicing my Kegels too much recently and I accidentally squeezed it to death.   Of course I will have to visit the restroom as soon as we get to the restaurant because I am not leaving it up there the entire time while I eat dinner feeling like an inadequate mother hen.  I'll wash it off later when we get home and set it on the dresser and give it dirty looks.  Who knows?  Maybe it will hatch and then I will be known in blog land as the TTWD Golden Goose.

How about you gals and guys? Do you have a "kink" that turned to an "unkink" to share?

Friday, July 20, 2018

Those dang Paint Stirrers

For the past 2 weeks, I have been painting the outside doors to our house.  I started with the smallest and least important one in the back of the house.  It took 3 coats and all day.  Not long after the paint dried, I decided it was ugly, but did not say so to Storm or the kid.  Hours later, I admit, "It's really ugly. I need a different color."  The kid laughed so hard because she has a very keen eye and she knew it was ugly but did not want to hurt my feelings, but once I admitted it, she said, "You decided you didn't want to go with the highlighter orange, huh?  The neighbors are going to think you're crazy."  Laughing.... it is NOT highlighter orange, but it IS way too bright.  So we discussed colors this morning and I chose an entire different color family.   (Storm doesn't care.  I asked him what he thought of the orange door once I was done.  He glanced at it for 2 1/2 seconds, gave me the thumbs up and walked away.)  So the kid gave me a shirt that looks like a color we discussed and I took that with me to the home improvement store.  I hardly know what I am doing, but since Storm and I had been there 2 days ago, I know a little more now than I did then.  So I am by myself matching the shirt up to the best possible color ...... calling the kid to ask a question...... and I make my choice.  Meanwhile, I get a text from Storm ...... and realized I had butt-texted him because my phone was in my back jean pocket.  I burst into laughter.  This is what I accidentally texted from the paint section of the store..... and this is his response and I knew nothing of either until I left the store and got into my car and checked my phone.

My phone to Storm:

Storm to me: :  "Frustrated?"  Apparently he had even less confidence in my paint choosing abilities than I did.

Also, in the same store, they have work clothes, I guess, and I passed a ton of leather work belts and I almost wrecked my cart into the display.  It was those dang paint stirrers you get for free that had me thinking about my rear and had me wandering in the wrong direction and led me to the belts. And, no, I did not buy one because right now Storm and I have a new leather implement that is working better for us and we are not in the mood to experiment with anything else for a while.

   Amy gets the blame credit for this one.  Hers is named Sir Strap.  We haven't yet named ours.  Any suggestions?

Wednesday, July 11, 2018

Spanking Nancy

Nancy got me in trouble.  She is not real and she doesn't live in my head either.  She is just the idea of a very girly girl who is taking her time getting ready for ....... well, for whatever she wants, but probably a dinner party. She is a proper and prissy girl, one who takes pride in her appearance and perhaps rightfully so, but also she takes waaaaaaay too much time to primp.  Also, she is a little bit of a wuss and she definitely cannot throw a baseball.  Hmm.  This sounds like my older sister.  No wonder why we didn't get along growing up.

It is the idea of Nancy's bedtime ritual that got me into trouble. Once I am in bed, I do not like to be biffed or jostled or bonked because I am not prepared for it.  I can't see it to anticipate it, so this sort of thing truly throws off my very sensitive equilibrium.   I don't like the bed being shaken like crazy, plopping pillows, bumping into the bed, the lights still shining brightly in my eyes. I was very sleepy and kind of cranky and Storm does these things to get ready for bed, and it seems to take forever, and he just wasn't in the bed yet for whatever exhausting godforsaken reason.  He's standing at his side of the bed. I finally say, "Are you ever coming to bed, Nancy?"  And although he does not know who Nancy is, he knows she is a girl and that I hadn't just complimented him.  He slides into bed and says, "That's one," meaning I have just earned one set of five spanks for the near future.  And so I laugh a little and then tell him to put his mask on so I can talk smack again to him.  And he says that he can still count with his mask on.  And so I start to fall asleep as I am chuckling and we are spooning.  Storm lets me put my ice cold feet between his as he always does because he is manly and hairy and thick and warm.  Yum.

Fast forward 2 days......I earned an additional five spanks because I keep forgetting to put my wedding ring back on after painting or yard work and other messy jobs and I need to go out in public, mostly to the store.  That is one standing rule.  Have it on in public.  So, I have 10 coming my way and this is what Storm says we are starting with.  No warm up, folks. For the first time in my life I am swearing in my head during a spanking by swat 6 and then by swat 10, and I am beginning to realize that the Nancy comment wasn't worth it or funny anymore either.  I will give serious pause to the next time I even think about saying it.  Then Storm brings me up to talk to me for a bit, and then says he's not done so bend over again.  He gives me more that are intense but not like the first 10 and he adds a little bit of lecturing in his husky turned on Stormy voice ..... and then things lead to some kinkery over the bed.  Sigh.  But we almost had an accident of sorts.

Storm still loves to play Naked King of the Mountain. (very short read here)  and I enjoy servicing him, but I cannot get over the physical and psychological hump of you know..... if I am orally pleasing him and ......... what comes next, so to speak.  Yeah, that.   I have tried it twice in all these years and have thrown up both times.  Once was our anniversary date under a covered bridge, on the hood of our car while it was raining, which then had me running over to the open window in the wooden bridge and saying farewell to my dinner right onto the poor little unsuspecting critters that live in and around the little creek just below.   I don't think that is the way it went in  The Bridges of Madison County.  Not a very sexy ending for poor Storm.  So today I almost missed his signal to back away from the loaded gun. I am sorry if this disappoints any of you ttwd gals or your guys who might read this. I also realize that this probably makes me Nancy because while I can indeed throw a baseball within the strike zone,  Storm has to slide OUT of home (my mouth for you non-athletic folks) instead of into home..... but he says it doesn't matter to him how the run scores, just as long as it scores.

Monday, July 9, 2018

A Whole Lot of @$$

Warning:  I'm about to talk about a lot of @ss.  Don't say you weren't warned.  (It's fine, just read it.)

This post is comprised of some various things that I have read/heard in my lifetime and then what my first impulse is to say in response, but I don't say it, I only think it.  But, I remember it all and now I am writing it here:

1) There was on old woman who lived in a shoe, she had so many children she didn't know what to do.....

Really?  This poor old lady.  How about telling your husband to get the flip off of you while you're ovulating?  Or how about using a condom?  Try that first.  How the rest of that nursery rhyme is soothing to children, I have no idea. So she gave them some broth without any bread (1. Not nice unless they're allergic to gluten. 2. Plus the broth will make them thirsty because of the salt so she'll be up half the night getting them all drinks of water. 3. Then they will be peeing the second half of the night and she'll be up all night cleaning up the ones that didn't make it to the potty in time), and she spanked them all soundly and put them to bed.  I remember the poor little guy and his bare butt over his mother's lap..... and I did a lot of wondering about that when I was very little.  Spanko at the age of 4?  GEEZE.  That is my very first spanking memory.  Goofy Mother Goose book.  Thanks a lot. (Seriously, thanks.)

2)  And then in my own life regarding this spanking thing, I have mostly been okay with it, but this discipline part of it?  I used to worry what God would think.  So I asked Storm if he thought God would be okay with this.  Storm, "I don't think He cares."  And so the HOH officially spoke it into being okay.

3) A friend long ago was trying to get pregnant with her second child.  Thankfully, it didn't take too long, but when she tells me and others she is pregnant, she says, "This is what God wanted, so we can't argue with God and there is nothing we can do about it."   Really?  You think God cares when you and your husband have sex and how?  He doesn't have bigger things to do other than watching you two bump uglies?  I'm all for God and the blessings of children, but don't blame Him because you're bare-backing it.

4) Which reminds me, I don't know what "riding naked" means to you vacation friends, but it sounds dangerous to me because I am just under a certain age and I am still ovulating.

5) Ever heard this one?  The person with the least interest in a relationship has the most power.  Really? I think the person with the most interest in the relationship should boot the one with the least interest out on his/her rear end if there is that much difference between the level of interest.  Actually, I am surprised that they are still in a relationship at all.  My second thought is that the man with the paddle has the most power in the relationship. Yay!  Speaking of that, I once told Storm that I thought he should run for President.  He laughed and said he didn't think he would be allowed to spank the First Lady.  I reminded him that he would be one of the most powerful men in the world and he could spank whomever he wanted, but I meant me.

6) A place for everything and everything in its place. 
If you're talking about my housekeeping skills, you do know where you can place "everything," right?
And whatever doesn't fit up there,  you can take home from my house in one big black garbage bag. Or seven.

7)  Submission feeds dominance........  Yes, this is true, but Storm and I were having a problem with our roles, so this just made me think (initially and incorrectly),  great, so this is all my fault?  Ugh!  No wonder why some people "switch." And, no, neither of us want that at all, I was just very frustrated with him over something.  And he told me later that he almost asked me if I wanted to spank him  but that he didn't want to give me false impressions because he wasn't serious about the actual spanking.  I really think I would have if he would have let me.  But, then I would have to choose an implement. Hmm.  I would have to decide how hard to strike him.  Ummm, where is that sit spot exactly?  Do I do a warm up with my hand first because I don't want to hurt him....... I just want to.....ah, HECK, I don't want to be a dominant!!  Just spank my ass, please!!

Can you identify with any of these?  Or share a phrase that made you think something but you didn't say it at the time?

Thursday, July 5, 2018

Hot Dogging It

I dislike two things: mornings and unnecessary questions.  And I especially dislike unnecessary questions in the morning.  Obviously, I am not a morning person and I am not an after-a-nap person either.  I need a little while to wake back up to this crazy world.

Storm and I had discussed earlier in the day that since it was double digits hot outside, we would not barbecue, but would instead just go pick up a couple of hot dogs somewhere.  So we're starting to get hungry, and he is asking me because I just woke up from my nap. "What do you want on your hot dog?"  Me, "Nothing."  He looks at me a little funny.  I am fine.  I just want a plain hot dog.  I revise, "Just onions."  Again, he looks at me funny.  I sigh. "I don't want any mustard because I want to put my own mustard on here at home."  Him, "Do we have any mustard?"  I now look at him funny.  I would know if we did not have any mustard. Nobody uses it here except for me and if I emptied it the last time I used it, I would have put it on the grocery list.  And unless someone came along and took that list off the refrigerator and ate it......but, I believe I would know this as well.   I say none of this but he isn't going to let it go, so I get up and go check the refrigerator.  I get out the Dijon mustard, get his attention and wiggle it in the air.  "See? This is the kind I want to put on it."   Him,  "I don't need to see it. I just want to make sure you have it."  Me, "Well, I want to make sure you don't ask me any more questions about the mustard, so I am showing it to you to prove to you that we have it."
He gives me the signal that means I just earned a fiver.
"What? I was gentle with my voice." I laugh a little.
He waves his hand like a magic wand over my body in front of me.  "It was the attitude."

So he comes over to kiss me goodbye before he goes out for the hot dogs.  And I remind him gently, "A certain person does not like to be asked questions when she first wakes up."
He replies back knowingly, "That person," he squeezes me, "also doesn't like to be mustardless, especially on the 4th of July."  Well, the man certainly does know how I like my hot dogs -- including his......... but in that case, please hold the mustard.

Wednesday, July 4, 2018

A Different Kind of 4-some

As an adult woman, when I hear or read the word "spanked," it mostly has a positive connotation because it is something I seek. It is a desire and a need that only my husband can meet.  Well, also in golf, although not an official term, the word "spanked" is used when the golfer hits the ball really well off the tee and straight into the fairway (that soft, short green grass right down the middle).  Kind of like a swat with a paddle or belt/strap that somehow hits the inner sides of both sit spots on each cheek in one swing and makes me think, "Whoa! Nice one!"  Yeah, spanked!! 

Sometimes when the golf ball is hit too far off target, the player finds herself in the bunker, also called the sand trap, which sounds nice if you're at the beach,  but in golf, a player really does not want to find herself at the "beach."  Hitting a golf ball out of the sand with the right finesse is very challenging.  To do it right, I have to play a mental game with myself.  I envision that I am in a swimming pool and there is a bug that lands in the water.  A big one.  And he is ugly.  I don't want to touch it, but I also want it OUT of the pool and AWAY from me.  So you know how you take kind of a short swing with your arm and hit the water with your hand doing a quick scoop under the bug but without touching it and displacing the water only.....and follow through with your arm followed by "Eww!" ?  That is kind of what you want to do when you're hitting a golf ball out of the sand.  You do not want your club, called a "sand wedge,"  to make contact with the ball.  But you also don't want to dig a hole to China either, lift a bucket of sand up on your swing, and only hit the ball 3 inches.  And the crowd goes boooo.  And then you will say a swear word.  You don't swear, say you?  Take up golf, my friend, it will happen naturally after just a few holes.  So make sure you are not in a 4-some with your local minister. A 4-some is the maximum number of people who can play together as a group one hole at a time.  You can walk the course alone and play as a single player, with someone else called a 2-some, or a 3-some, or a 4-some.  Get your mind out of the gutter, anything more than a 2-some is not allowed in TTWD, not that I know of anyway.  Just to make it clear, in golf, it’s a group of 4 people that spend an entire 4 ½ hours with each other, sweating, drinking beer, swinging sticks, eating hot dogs at 9:30 in the morning, searching for their balls, finding other people's balls, and there is a ball washer at every hole....... okay, never mind, this is not going in the direction in which I am trying to direct. Just stick to 2-somes.  It's faster and there is less confusion and heartache.  

At a golf course, you have to rake the sand trap after you finally hit your ball out of it, smooth all footprints and messes you've made, and hide all the evidence that you were unfortunately in there in the first place. Sort of like TTWD and getting that "clean slate." However, if you're actually at the beach, you like to leave your footprints. It is so interesting to follow other's tracks.... and to make your own too close to the water and then watch them disappear.  Young children often find this fascinating.  So you walk along the beach and make impressions with your feet, be they good or bad,  walking with a limp, or with a confident stride, but the water always comes along and washes away all evidence of your walk. And then you get the chance to do it all over again.  Kind of like being dealt nature's own clean slate.  

In golf, when you break the rules such as hitting a ball out of bounds, there is a 2 stroke penalty.  I recently got one of those for the first time during a spanking because Storm had brought me up thus suspending the spanking temporarily to talk to me.  He set me down on the bed, naked, and said he wanted me to face him as we were talking. "We all make mistakes. I make mistakes."  Me, "Can I spank you then?"  "No." And then he turned me back over, swatted me twice and said, "That's two for even asking."   It was funny.  Kind of. And at least I got a clean slate. 

Monday, July 2, 2018

Sleeping Arrangements

A lot can go on in bed at night.  I am a total cover hog.  Storm has to place the quilt over and tuck it under himself so that his weight is holding it down, otherwise he will freeze because every time I roll, I pull.  Apparently.  He usually awakes before I do and by the time I wake up, the bed is in complete disarray.  Pillows that started off under my head are now at my feet.  One is on the floor.  The blankets are a twisted set of colorful braids.  I sit up and look around me and it looks like I have been in a major struggle with Bed, Bath & Beyond.  If I slept well, I won.  If I did not, the bed gets the victory for that day.

I don't know how it became an official rule, but I now go to bed the same time as Storm.  If I forget as he is getting ready, he has reminded me, "There will be consequences."  And then I get up and rush around and get myself ready as well.  Once in bed, I may read and finish things up on the computer  if I cannot fall sleep, but I often try to have skin to skin contact with him because he loves for me to touch him at night as he is falling asleep.  We often face each other and I gently stroke the length of his forearm.  If I am really tired, then sometimes I just place my hand in his larger one.  Other times, I face the other way and we do the classic spoon position.  No matter what position we're in, I almost always put my ice cold feet between his lower legs and feet and, yes, he lets me and he shares his body heat with me whether it is for practical reasons or other reasons.............

Storm has snored since...... always.  For the past 10 years he has a machine that forces air up his nose to keep his engine running smoothly and quietly while he sleeps.  Nightly, he wears the prescribed mask with a 36 inch long hose attached right at the nose that makes him look like the purplish grey octopus named Squidward from the kid's show Sponge Bob Square Pants.  If you are not familiar with that, then picture a fighter pilot with his mask and the long hose that comes out of it.  And he can't talk with that thing on either.  It just comes out as, "bbffpp." Me: "I love you." Him, "bbffpp ttt gh." Sometimes I talk smack to him because I know he can't talk back. Not the ttwd wife's gold standard, I know, but it is too fun.  So the mask gives him fits. And then he starts coughing in the middle of the night and he rips the mask off and I'm like, "What is wrong?" And.... he says, "I'm taking it off. It's waterboarding me." The moisture backs up his nose sometimes. Waterboarding.   And then sometimes I forget and say the next morning, "Why isn't your mask on?" And then, "I'm tired of getting waterboarded all night." Still makes me laugh. But, if I wake up at all (which I almost always do) and he isn't wearing it, I wake him up and make him put it back on, HOH or not. Now he's got this new thing that wakes me up about 4 nights a week. He's lassoing the hose in the air in the middle of the night trying to get the water/condensation out of it. Not my idea of "Ride 'em cowboy/girl," but it is probably 4 in the morning and I am too tired to get roped and tethered anyway.