20 Tuesday Aug 2019
Posted in Uncategorized
Little appetites accumulate as desires deepen and fancies swell.
It is your neck I want at first to lightly kiss then tease your ear lobes with little nibbles, reminding you of who owns you.
The promises of reason do not ignite the soul; as such they fire no sparks.
And now, it is you, naked, that I want, to wrest from you, surrender and submission.
You become mine to please and pleasure, as you are treasured and taken, the slave transformed to goddess, in the magic night.
20 Tuesday Aug 2019
Posted in Housework, Uncategorized
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J and I have two really bad complementary habits. We hoard and we procrastinate going through the piles and piles of pay stubs, paid invoices, paid medical bills, greeting cards, church bulletins (for both important and trivial occasions), Holy Cards, and interwoven with all of this conglomeration of paper, junk mail.
Well, there’s a new David in town and he is attacking one of the Rooms O’ Crap. I just spent two hours going through stuff, put some recyclable paper in a shopping bag (or as my grandfather called it a “poke”), and shredded some, but not nearly enough.
This is all part of letting go for me. I have to retain some, I suppose, in case the IRS decides to audit us.
It’s all about avoidance. To grasp the short term pleasure of a book, game, TV show, cup of coffee, even, especially, pornography.
But this is what humans do. I didn’t invent this behaviour, despite what my mother and ex-wives said. I may have perfected it, but I didn’t invent it.
The room is in transition, as the picture will attest.
20 Tuesday Aug 2019
Posted in Uncategorized
I woke up fixed a cup of peppermint tea. Right now, I’m watching a Buster Keaton movie,Seven Chances, on Turner Classic Movies.
I am worried about Mrs McDaddy. I heard there were fires in Sonoma County. I think that is where she and her husband live.
I’ve been up an hour. Going back to bed
19 Monday Aug 2019
Posted in Uncategorized
Father Sunil was at the 5:00 Mass at St . Bridget’s Sunday to generate support for the Syro-Malabar Catholic parish that is growing here in Richmond. Briefly the Syro-Malabar Catholic Church acknowledges the authority of the Holy See (Pope, Bishop of Rome), but does not use the Latin Mass (Rite).
So after Mass, I introduce myself, and I ask him about cricket. He is a fan! Priests always surprise me when they don’t have their “game faces” on. He is a really nice guy. I have heard him say Daily Mass at The Abbey. I told him I would be there this morning. Now it is 0316. Mass is at 0700. I have been up about 30 minutes. I want to go back to bed. I have had only about three hours sleep.
Sometimes, when I awaken in the middle of the night, I feel the pain of the grieving, broken, brutalized world. I don’t have any solutions.
I will go back to bed soon.
18 Sunday Aug 2019
Posted in Uncategorized
When J came home about an hour ago, she saw the newly discovered Teddy Bear.
“Dan gave that to my mother for her birthday one year.”
J’s mother, Lola passed away on 26 December 2009, St Stephen’s Day (Boxing Day). She was 92.
Dan, her brother died this year on 29 March. He died of ALS, a result of combat service in Viet Nam. (Maybe from Agent Orange exposure,but the government doesn’t out right admit it.)
Now this bear is even more important, I suspect. Dan’s time in Viet Nam was in 1968-69, when J was around fourteen.
He came back alive, only to die from war nearly fifty years later.
We’ll see where this goes.
18 Sunday Aug 2019
Posted in Uncategorized
Over in a dusty corner, in an alcove, I found this Vermont Teddy Bear. It also had a Happy Birthday star 🌟. I did not put that with the bear just yet, to see if Gigi remembers.
Here is the full complement of Gigi’s Stuffies.
18 Sunday Aug 2019
Posted in Travel
This morning:
18 Sunday Aug 2019
Posted in Age Play, Uncategorized
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This Daddy/little girl dynamic is most intriguing. I find myself growing into the “Daddy” side of the dynamic. Today, she did not eat her lunch because she worked under six hours. After her work, we met at First Watch for lunch. When we got home, her Waldorf chicken salad felt warm and her ice pack lunch sack was basically room temperature. I told her I thought it would be OK to save, but the more I thought about the less confident I felt about sending it with her another time.
“J, I think I should just make you new chicken salad. I’m throwing the old stuff out.”
“Thank you for doing that.”
I have some small container-sized blue ice blocks that I will now use in addition to her cold-pack lunch kit.
I found a Disney cartoon DVD at the library today, Ichabod And Mr Toad. These are retelling of The Legend Of Sleepy Hollow and The Wind In The Willows. What little girl doesn’t like Mr Toad and Company? I mean they are cute, as I remember them. I reserved a copy of the movie Anne Of Green Gables for her at the library.
When I went to Target, I found Peppridge Farm Cookies on sale so I bought two packages. She likes the Tate’s Bake Shop ones but I think those will be a special treat.
I don’t think she is conscious to a lot of these “little” characteristics. And if she were aware of any “age play” characteristics, I think she would be resistant. But letting out this part of herself isn’t necessarily a conscious process.
I want this to be more than a game. I want her to feel protected as she never has felt before.
17 Saturday Aug 2019
Posted in Cricket, Uncategorized
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In my last post, I posited I could go sleep for three hours, wake up and I will have missed very little from Australia’s innings. My conclusion is “mixed”. The Green Tops scored over 100 runs. The English took only 1 wicket. The big story was Steve Smith going out “injured” after being hit by Jafra Archer’s bouncer. Smith was decked by it; he was removed for a medical evaluation, and returned after Peter Siddle was out. Smith left at 80, made 12 more before being out lbw.
I watched Australia make a good run at the English. The loss of Smith was clearly significant. Had Smith remained, the result would have been different in all. Likelihood, given tbat Steve Smith has been the dominant batsman in the series. Comparisons to have been made to Sir Donald Bradman, the greatest ever of the batsmen.
I am amazed at my ability to blather on about cricket after only about ten week immersion into the game.
I have things to do today. I need to get some meds at the pharmacy, and do some cookie shopping for J, also shop dinner for tonight or tomorrow.
17 Saturday Aug 2019
Posted in Uncategorized
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Here we are. This is Test Match #2 of The 2019 Ashes Series. It’s called The Ashes because way back when the series began, the Aussies beat the English so badly the sporting press declared English Cricket to be a smouldering ruin. The metaphor stuck and it was then decided that the trophy battled for would therafter be known as The Urn.
It looks like a nice day. I’m sure that will change. The match is at Lord’s, a venerable cricket ground, with the original architecture, evocative Queen Victoria and the glories of Empire.
Cricketers, among the world’s athletes have a unique look. They are lean, tall, and sinewy. The men could all be models for men’s fashions. I suppose if men’s fashions weren’t an absolute wasteland, they could all find work. Style, for men, has been on life support for years now. The tyranny of the tee shirt grips the world. Go to any mall, look at the males, you will see what I mean.
I didn’t really decide to watch the day’s “action” (cricket and action seem to be in conflict at times). I woke up after 4 hours sleep and decided i would just stay up. Just a few minutes ago, Matthew Wade of Australia was caught out in a nifty bit of fielding.
I assessed my progress in clearing the mess out. I see that I am getting somewhere. J will be up in about an hour
Last night’s shower before bed was welcome, making the clean sheets feel all that much nicer.
I could back to bed, sleep another three hours, wake up, turn to the match again and find that I have missed very little. So I am going back to bed to test my hypothesis.
Dispatches From Dystopia 