Der Tag/My Day

I have this shoulder pain going on, like I slept on it funny, or sat too long, or something like that. I did ride in a car more or less nonstop for 16 hours a day for a week. Hmmm, a clue?

So for the past two days I have been making an effort to work the kink out. Kink, not that kind. I have been swimming, a mile yesterday 1100 meters today. Today I swam in the family pool, the warmer pool, which explains the shortened distance. It was quite a test. I move my shoulder with little problems swimming. I’m done. I come home.

Earlier, we had dinner (lunch) with friends at our favorite restaurant. I had salmon, steamed vegetables,fresh fruit.

We decide to skip the Vigil Mass tonight for the Palm Sunday Mass on Sunday.

I’m tired, lonely, sexually unfulfilled. And I have no solution to this dilemma. Except talking, communicating, and trusting that Love will find a way,

Servant Body. Servant Mind. Slave Dreams

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NSFW. Erotic Fantasy, y’all.

Long slow morning. The lazies take over. And the dreaming begins.

I am naked, wearing only my collar. I begin my chores, I am on my knees as I scour the tub, my ass on display. You pinch it hard. The distraction takes my innermost thoughts to your body. I can almost smell your cunt.

I scrub on, then clean the toilet, the sink and scrub the bathroom floor, again on my hands and knees.

These weekends are special. My clothes stay in the hall closet. My purpose is service. I am vulnerable. I put my focus on you, my trust in you. You could embarrass, humiliate, or degrade me, should it be your wish or whim. Yet your fancies have not led you there. Yet.

Last winter, in the snow you sent me to pick up the pizza you ordered wearing only my shearling coat and leather boots. I felt the fleece against my nakedness. The clerk at the counter must have wondered when I exchanged the money for the brown cardboard box containing the pie , redolent of oregano and pepperoni.

It is all about knowing my place. Not conniving to get the chance to lick your cunt, or asshole, or have your dildo fill my ass.

I choose this way. I know the itch of deprivation, as the yearning drags on.

Up

This is a familiar time and a familiar reason for being awake. Pain. This time I have a sore shoulder that feels “tight” and sore. Ice seems to help. J will be up in a short while. I shall go back to sleep after she awakens and showers.

I tried reading, but can’t get engaged with the story. Odd. The author is Anais Nin, usually not a problem getting involved in her fiction. Later, I guess.

There are Looney Tunes cartoons on YouTube. Some animated mayhem usually perks me up. Daffy Duck is fighting Nazis. It is war Everybody did their part.

OK , Back to bed.

Rain

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The rain finally came and washed the pollen off the car, and out of the air.

I feel better now.

I picked up a little book I bought years ago written by St Francis de Sales. I read a couple of excerpts. He evangelized in the Protestant city of Geneva, Calvin’s hometown, and brought thousands back to The Faith. His message was simple, gentle, and unapologetic about Catholicism.

Like this rain, his life and work and words were about cleansing, gently, in a world that needed it.

The Swing Of Yucky

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Grinding on, allergies ebb and flow. I feel OK now, but give me a few minutes or hours, the pendulum will swing to the Not OK pole.

I am watching a Russian documentary about a top lieutenant of Stalin, Andrei Zhdanov. Interesting Stalin put him in charge of Leningrad and he led the city when the German besieged the city for nearly 900 days in The Great Patriotic War ( WW II).

Not much else to blog about

Lethargy

How else can I describe how I feel? The energy present during our late lunch/early dinner at Mellow Mushroom has dissipated. I am watching a Looney Tunes cartoon that I have seen countless times, A Corny Concerto. It is still funny and gorgeous to watch. It is a send up of Fantasia with some anti-Nazi imagery thrown in for good measure.

But I am overwhelming myself. More books came today, on important topics, Allen Dulles, and Washington corruption. My concern about public corruption and the morphing of American journalism into propaganda now has a longer reading list, but the reader (me) is lacking gumption.

The next cartoon is on. Can’t recall the title, but the soundtrack just played The Girlfriend Of The Whirling Dervish. There is patriotic imagery in this one too, a cartoon with mice and a tyrannical cat. The little guys (mice) won.

Think I will rest a bit. .

Some Enchanted Evening…. Just Not This One

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I have been waiting on J, since she got home. The dinner I prepared was well received. I thought the corn much more appealing than cornbread. It is hard to mess up slow cooker pork shoulder. The black beans were seasoned well with cumin, coriander, and turmeric. My improvisational Cole slaw dressing consisted of 2 oz of canola oil, 2 oz of apple cider vinegar,dill weed, dill seed, caraway seed, celery seed. Just be sure to stir it up real good so the oil emulsifies with the vinegar.

I am still dealing with the allergies. I want to sleep. I miss the pool but I can’t bear the thought of going anywhere.

So there you have it, folks.

Afternoon Of A Prawn

There’s something fishy about that pun.

J came home. We ate lunch. I had a nice vegetable omelette at First Watch. Then I bought fresh corn and a head of cabbage at Publix. I’m making cole slaw to go with the slow cooker bbq tonight. I also decided roasted corn was a better choice than corn bread for dinner, given I had grits with my omelette,

I’m doing more trainspotting and wishing my allergies would go away. I don’t remember them to be this bad.

Life is good, apart from feeling miserable.

Morning Becomes Afternoon

Sitting here, in my chair, sort of semi-awake, watching a Russian language show on YouTube. I understand almost nothing. I don’t really care. The images in my head are of sex. Nothing new there. I think of pleasure, power, intimacy, love in kind of an amorphous swirl.

No word from J on when her work is over for the day.

There is poison ivy growing in my backyard where I want ivy to grow. There is also an herbicide purchase in my future.

I feel allergies coming back. It is Spring, after all. There is only so much I can take, before I go back to bed. The discomfort tires me.

On YouTube, Oksana, the Russian Brassiere Maven, is holding forth on cups, straps, bands, what have you. She is a Master of the Science of Bra Fitting.

I suppose I should switch over to Daffy Duck, but no, this unintelligible language is so beautiful to listen to. Maybe Adam and Eve spoke Russian in the Garden of Eden. Who is to say they didn’t? I know, some smartypants anthropologist, but what the Hell.

Basketball. The University of Virginia won the NCAA 2018-2019 Men’s Championship. Exciting? Not really. It’s OK though. About as meaningful as The Miss America Pageant, but it sounds important. Maybe they should merge the two events, have the players play ball in evening gowns.

I switched over to trainspotting, just as the lawn mowing guys started outside my house. Feel sleepy. And hungry. And lonely.

Where is my wife when I need her?

Basic Husband Mistake

I just made a basic mistake all husbands make. I told my wife I would be coming straight home, then proceeded to stop along the way. I stopped off at the store to get something for tomorrow night’s dinner, plus strawberries, whole bean coffee and toilet bowl cleaner.

Then I had to decide between the roast beef or the pork shoulder, which brand of coffee to buy and lastly, how I would make this bowl cleaner purchase, I got excited when I tbought I could get something free if I bought two. So I rushed to the front of the store to check out the flyer that had the coupon. There I discovered the item I actually wanted was excluded in the offer. At that moment I saw that getting something “free” meant spending money on items I did not really need in the first place.

Meanwhile, my wife is wondering where in Heaven’s name I was and that the “be right home” statement was just so much hot air.

Bottom line to husbands, spouses, and members of long term dyads. Don’t do this..