Dinner Tonight: Roast & Resentment

I pulled out all the stops, fixing The Mother Of All Snowy Days Dinners. Objectives: 1) Hearty Meal, 2) Shameless Use of Butter, 3) Food you don’t have everyday.

The Meal: roast pork loin, butternut squash, broccoli w homemade cheese sauce, and spoonbread.

Can you say “Southern”?

Too bad my wife can’t seem to find enough energy to eat at the table with me.

What am I? The hired help? Oh well.

But she loves me, she says. And she is tired. She appreciates that I understand. Yes I do understand. I also hurt.

Gloom, Sleepless Gloom

Tags

,

I have been up awhile. I put a DVD of Popeye cartoons from the 1930’s in the DVD player and watched for awhile. Truth is, I like to listen to the music. It’s a quirky 30’s swing music, perfectly synchronized to the action. The cartoons lift my spirits. I’m feeling the gut punch that is loneliness. I’m not making much of an effort to join my wife in Hallmark Channel Christmas movies, reruns of The Waltons or The Andy Griffith Show, after Don Knotts left. Somehow Aunt Bea and Goober just couldn’t carry the show. She works, comes home, then is off in her world..

Words she once pronounced 10 years ago still sting, “I guess I’m not very lovey-dovey.” Heartaches have sources and origins, leave scars, abd readily refresh themselves.

#98, The Northbound Silver Meteor, went through Ashland, 30 minutes late.

We are expecting snow today. I may sequester myself with lots of coffee, books, naps, movies and ride this storm out. I could always vacuum and bundle up newspapers, clean the kitchen and bathrooms, but it is Sunday after all.

Next thing to do is fix my wife tuna salad and some sliced strawberries for her lunch.

I just don’t care about Christmas any more.

Off to prepare the tuna.

Health Update (Mine)

At the end of October, I got the Type 2 Diabetes scare. So I got back to Weight Watchers (WW) and to regular swimming at the Y

I have lost around 18 lbs and my swimming schedule has me in the pool 5 times per week for a distance of 2050 meters each workout.

I can’t believe the difference in how well I sleep, how my appetite has changed, how my attitude has improved, and how my overall fitness has bounced back.

If you are older, 55+, and you aren’t moving around, start. Even simple exercise like walking makes a big difference.

I had no idea how aggresively damaging inactivity can be as we age.

Repeat: Get up. Move around.

Desire

NSFW Obscene, Frankly

Feeling your naked skin against mine, Kissing the nape of your neck as my fingers pull your nipples erect. I take the lube to prep your waiting slit. And yet my lewd and wandering mind saves a dab to push a finger into your anus. And two fingers tease your cunt as one taunts your asshole.

I long to taste your cunt and feel your clit harden.

Prick hardens, thrusts, your legs upon my shoulders and, as your crisis rises, you cry out when I come.

Working My Way Back

Tags

I spent a good part of the day watching President George Herbert Walker Bush’s funeral. It was dignified, and, I believe, an accurate reflection of the man.

After the funeral I went to pay a bill. Then I went swimming. I wasn’t all that eager to go, but I saw that my best time to go was right at that moment. So I went.

I was greatly concerned, about six weeks ago, that I was headed toward some inevitable geriatric decline. But no! It isn’t happening. I have, since October 30, lost eighteen pounds (8.16 KG, or 1.29 stone). I am grateful to weigh under 200lb now.

Swimming today was most gratifying. I swam 2050 meters faster than Monday by a full 2 min 12 sec.

So when I looked at GHWB’s life today, the great lesson for me is that I don’t have to limit my goals or aspirations just because I’m getting older.

The dark phase of this year wherein I “sentenced” myself to be miserable is over. It isn’t worth it. No one is living “rent free” in my head any more.

Collar Of Freedom 5 Transport

NSFW    Not appropriate for minors, the emotionally immature, or those lacking imagination.

Marta completed her evaluation.

” I know what I have to work with here. Left to your own devices you have become an indolent wretch, seduced not by a woman, but a recliner, a TV, and a remote control.  You had sense enough to end the booze and reefer without my intervention and you did get your sorry ass back to the pool. But if you want to take your physical fitness and your attitude to the next level, you will accept my tutelage. This is your chance right now to walk away.  If you accept my discipline and methods, you will be fit again, desired again, and, most importantly, you will love yourself.”

She took out her cell phone, pressed one key, a speed dial number obviously, began a conversation of which I was privy to but one end.

“I have a candidate. I’ve used him myself in the past. When he is at peak form, he is vigorous, flexible, and obedient. He is independent, no family. No debt. There’s nobody who will miss his absence. Holidays? I suppose we can send him to his mother’s with an ankle bracelet on, so we can, uh, retrieve him should the need arise. How soon can I expect the van? 15 minutes. He will be ready”

“This is your chance. You can turn me down, put your gym clothes back on, get in your car and drive home. Or you can work with us for the next few months, then see what worlds will open for  you.”

What could I say, but YES.

As the van pulled up the drive, she told me to kneel up. She blindfolded me, placed a velcro collar around my neck.  I heard a sliding door open, a strong hand around my bicep led me up and into the van. It was a simple cargo van. I could feel no seats. 

“Kneel, boy!” I knelt near the bulkhead of the van and felt straps bind my arms behind me as I was secured to a tie-down rail that ran the length of the van. I felt something scratchy on my knees, smelt the smell of straw.

“If you need to piss, just piss, the straw is there for that. It’s a long trip. your bladder and, I dare say,  your bowels might not hold up the whole trip.  Just remember your dignity stays here, along with your clothes.”

Seeing I was secured, the van drove off.

Rainy Night

I am watching it rain on the Railfan camera in Ashland as the Amtrak train #66 headed to Boston pulls in. Beautiful with reflected streams of light. And the allure of travel.

All of my good vibes, positive stuff from the prior post have left me. A feeling of loneliness replaced them. A burning desire for sexual intimacy fills me. My wife, at this point, is sleeping, exhausted from her work. She loves me but is indifferent to my passion simultaneously. That makes the emotional pain excruciating. Yet I know how affairs turn out. And separations. The fractures bring no relief.

That is why there are dreams.

Good Health. Good Feelings.

Tags

I am sleeping much more soundly than I was sleeping even a month ago. I would attribute that to a consistent exercise routine that I reestablished in recent weeks.

My wheat consumption has also plummeted when I discovered that my “restless” stomach went away when I gave up carbs. That is how I discovered that I am gluten sensitive. Go figure.

Still the idea of putting my head on the pillow, falling asleep, and waking up eight hours later, has some nostalgic appeal, just as staying up all night making love does.

I have been incredibly lucky to enjoy the good health that I have. Even the arthritis pain and pain near my fusion site are more an inconvenience than a real barrier to getting along.

Getting older is an exercise in blessing counting and priority setting. Every day I ask my self, “Just how badly do  I want that donut, candy bar, croissant?” It gets easier. I consider the great blessings of making new friends in both real life and in the cyberworld and acknowledge that good health makes that much more likely.

Good health and anger seem to be incompatible too. Anger, for me, is a function of feeling threatened. I need the rage of anger to help me “fight back”. When I feel healthy, I feel more in harmony with the world, less threatened, hence less angry.

Consider how much political thinking implies that one identity group or another feels “threatened”. LGBT rights groups and NRA members both, in recent times, have expressed the notion that they are threatened. Simply “feeling” threatened does not mean that one is threatened in reality.

If you feel “angry” by the news, consider who would like to see you angry, then ask “Why?”. Regaining control of anger is about regaining your emotional serenity.