“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.”
― Louise Erdrich, The Painted Drum LP
I found that quote lately, and I’ve gone back and read it multiple times.
I love the image of so many apples, falling all around you, wasting their sweetness, and really, isn’t that what much of the world seems to d...Read More
It has been a strange few days in several ways.
I had gotten a letter earlier this week from the daughter of a woman I grew up with. She was a friend of my mother’s, though, over time, she became more a friend of mine.
I had visited her when we were on our honeymoon and went back to my hometown. She was Portuguese in heritage, and an artist. She and her husband owned a little junk shop in the town I grew up in, a place that we visited regularly.
She sold comics and books and I remember taking old ones in and trading them for different used books and comics.
It was in her store that I clearly remember seeing a rhinestone brooch and telling my mother how pretty it would be on a black dress.
I was all of nine or ten and I remember my mother saying, “But you don’t HAVE a black dress.”
I ...Read More
I am going to post tonight something I wrote earlier today.
The minister who married us is leaving the church.
Yes, I was married in a church and the ceiling did not fall down on us.
I wore a leather pillbox hat and leather gloves I’d been given as a piece of earned leather.
I’m not really a Christian at all – I don’t honestly know how I’d define myself, it changes nearly daily. But we both wanted a fairly traditional ceremony, none of the unity candle and vows we wrote ourselves.
slave drew grew up in an Episcopalian church, and that was where we went to be married.
We were very lucky, our minister was a lovely man, and a wonderful speaker, and is now leaving us for the greener pastures I always knew would beckon.
We in the congregation were asked to write something for him to...Read More
I’ve not felt very well for a couple of days, a stomach thing that was minor but didn’t feel minor, but I’m feeling closer to myself now, though still not 100%.
I’ve had a quiet couple of days, not doing much, not going anywhere, other than slave drew and I going out today to the mall. He wanted to look for something and I went along. I found a couple of things at good after-Christmas prices, so it was worthwhile.
We made a quick grocery run, too, and now we’re home until we head to see slave drew’s brother, his wife, and their two children tomorrow evening. Then we have one more gathering
Other than that, I’ve spent the day at home, and I have no complaints about that, either.
It snowed last night, so I got up to a very pretty world, the kind with a couple of inches of very wet sn...Read More
The year 2012 is winding down.
There are three days left and then this year will be over. I can’t say I will be unhappy to see it in the rear-view mirror.
It hasn’t been a bad year, in many ways.
In February, my own Bluegrass Leather Pride contest went well, despite having lost two venues in the last month or so before. We ended up doing it in a private home and the upstairs of a local restaurant, and while it wasn’t ideal, it worked. My contestants didn’t end up competing at GLLA, but that happens sometimes.
I was also in Indianapolis in February for Beat My Valentine, an event sponsored by IMAS, Indiana Masters and Slaves.
In March I drove out to Dallas, to South Plains Leatherfest, to watch Charles and jacki compete for International Master and slave.
In April, we went to Fort Lau...Read More
“Never a Christmas morning,
never an old year ends,
but someone thinks of someone;
old days, old times, old friends.”
That is one of my favorite passages for Christmas because isn’t it true?
I have thought today of old days, old times, old friends.
My youth, when Christmas wasn’t what it was ever supposed to be and was mostly about disappointment and being reminded of what wasn’t there.
My dyke days, from which I have many happy memories, Christmases with Marie and Lynnie and Beth, when we would spend the day cooking and playing cards and drinking and smoking dope.
The Christmases with my kinky friends, with the family I’ve chosen.
I’m going to repeat it to myself, again, slowly, and savor the words and the images...Read More
I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December.
A magical thing
And sweet to remember.
“We are nearer to Spring
Than we were in September,”
I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December.
So said Oliver Herford,
I memorized that poem as a kid, and I have thought of it every single December since, as well as other times, too. Today was the first cold day we’ve had, the first day I actually wore a coat out during the day to run errands.
Actually, yesterday was a bit more of a dark of December kind of day, today was brighter.
I made no cookies today. I did look at cookie recipes and got some cookie ingredients.
One of the places I looked was an old cookbook I had picked up at a yard sale somewhere, the kind that was some mother or grandmother’s COOKBOOK, the one where she stuck the recipes sh...Read More
So, today was the day to bake my peanut butter cookies.
I have been baking these cookies all my adult life. I’ve no idea where my mother got the recipe, I’ve never thought about asking her that until this moment, and it’s way too late for that.
My mother had good qualities and bad, though I tend to remember the bad ones. She was smart and educated, which was good. She was not pleasant, which was bad.
When she liked something I did, I got that from her. When she didn’t, I was just like my father.
She never told me I was stupid. She frequently told me I was lazy, and often told me I was fat and not pretty, though she rarely used those words. The message was there, however.
She loved poetry and passed on a love of it to me...Read More
I bet you thought I’d forgotten this thread, huh?
Nah, I just got caught up with the holiday and the dining room renovation, and all that kind of distractions.
So, anyway, the first munch I ever went to was in Lexington, Kentucky. It would have been the summer, probably June or July, of 1997.
I don’t know that it was called a munch, I honestly don’t remember.
I had ended my previous relationship and now had the ability to do what I wanted and I wanted to find a community of some kind.
The munch was held at a horrible Ryan’s Steak House, and a couple named Denise and Jeff were running it at the time.
There weren’t a lot of people there, maybe 20 or so. I guess I knew a couple of people already from online...Read More
The first play party I remember going to was in Lexington, Kentucky, probably in the early summer of 1997.
I had found people in the area through a channel on the internet, which was still a fairly novel way to meet people way back then.
It was a small group of people, A and R, D and J, BJ and some other stray folks whom I don’t remember as well.
I remember going to an apartment in Lexington for a party. We were all, I think, relatively new to at least playing in front of other people, and there wasn’t any real equipment. We used what was there, footstools and chairs, etc.
I remember giving one person, BJ, his first spanking, but it wasn’t anything really special or intense, at least for me. Maybe it was for him.
It’s funny, it all seems so long ago, and so much, I don’t know, more i...Read More