My art teacher
Today I can’t help but think of her. I had class last night and she was a complete wreck. Her husband is in the Cleveland Clinic waiting a lung transplant.
They both have a lot of faith and courage. I admire them. I do not know how well I would stand up to something so devastating.
She holds art class to keep her sanity and to have friends come and talk about other things. It keeps her mind occupied for two hours.
I wonder how long he is going to have to wait? I hope not too long because his heart is also failing. They are going to do open heart surgery on him at the same time they do the lungs. A huge operation.
Please keep them in your thoughts and prayers. I know I am
shia
Amish and the pumpkin patch
We took a ride to where we once lived. We lived on a street where there were nothing but Amish. A wonderful place. We learned so much there.
We watched the horse drawn wagons and men picked corn and women harvested some cold weather crops. Such as cabbage and beets.
Children romped barefooted, and it seemed so cold to me with my jacket on and they were running barefooted.
We passed one home and they had a small produce store in one of their little buildings and all around the yard were pumpkins. We pulled in the cinder and mud driveway and I got out of the car.
I had to knock on the door of this simple home and a young girl no more than 15 opened it. I could smell apples cooking when she opened the door.
I asked how much the pumpkins were and first she told me 2.50 and then said “how about 2.00″ I thought it was a bargain!
They charge 5.00 in the city not too far from where I live.
I picked out a large pumpkin and happy with what I chose and got into the car to leave. For some reason I didn’t want to leave and wished I could have stayed and visited.
They live such a humble life. I complain because things don’t work right in my house and they have so little they are thankful for.
shia
Halloween
One of my favorite times of years. Fall leaves make such a beautiful backdrop for all the orange pumpkins. Sitting on peoples steps and porches. I drive and see all the decorations and slow down and like a little kid laugh at peoples creativity.
I don’t have little kids any longer and I miss dressing them up for Halloween. It is not the same. I also live in a rural area and every halloween buy candy and decorate the yard and because there are no street lights or sidewalks we don’t get any trick or treaters. Disappointing. lol.
My son is going to a party and will be dressing up. Him and his girlfriend. So that should be fun to see.
It’s just not the same without little ones’ excited running around in bought costumes. A few years I made my own costumes when they were little. It took me a long time and they couldn’t get a lot of candy because people wanted them to come in and see all the work I did making them look like clows. They were aggravated and tired when they came home.
Halloween is fun for the young and old. I get to see peoples yards and carved pumpkins even though I don’t get any trick or treaters. Where I used to live we got hundreds. All small bungalows and lots of kids living in them. I used to dress up as a witch and give out the candy. It was fun.
I guess we find new ways to entertain ourselves. Now I just drive around and enjoy the colors of fall and the pumpkins on the steps
Happy Halloween
shia
Lost
Somewhere I have lost myself.
Raising kids and trying to be what others want me to be.
I forget how to act in front of people
I forget who I am and what my goals were.
Somewhere I have lost who I was and what I was
How do I find me again?
I am tired, mentally and physically.
I keep searching but I have forgotten
Things are so demanding now
No privacy, living in a house of people and still being lonely
What am I really?
A breathing creature, that is it.
Existing, daily doing the same routine
No deviation, nothing new
How I long for the days of my youth
I was so carefree and happy
I am not happy now, nor do I see it in my future
I only exist
Don’t stand so close
My chest heaves a heavy sigh.
Tingling, down my spine
A quick pass of my tongue over my lips.
Don’t stand so close.
Do you know how I feel?
I can smell your scent, you are so near
My fingers curl into my palms, frustrated
I wish I could kiss you
Don’t stand so close
I can feel the air between us
It is hot and stagnate
It draws me closer
Don’t stand so close.
You leave without me
I stand motionless
your cologne lingers
It is all I have
To remember
You stood too close
shia
Copyrighted 2009
Pissed on
Well, I went to the thrift store and bought a beautiful beige Liz Clayborn sweater. It has never been worn. You can tell. So, I put it in the laundry room. Sorted my clothes on the floor and guess what?
My chiahuaha pissed on it. He never does that. It was something new with a new scent so he marked it. I am trying to wash the stain out now. But I was so pissed. Can you imagine? I was so proud of my bargain. I only paid 2.00 for it.
Guess it wasn’t a bargain anymore. I could kill him.
shia
I am pissed
Well I just wrote a whole new post and my and didn’t get to save it yet and my computer turned off. Now I don’t remember all that I wrote. I am pissed at technology today. I don’t know why AOL disconnected me, but it happend.
I was trying to say I am uninspired lately. Can’t think of anything to write. I am in a slump. I don’t want to see my site go to blog heaven.
Someone told me to write more about the amish. I could do that. I think I am just depressed because summer is gone and it has been gloomy and rainy here. This does not help my disposition. I think of starting new projects or working on the old one’s from last year and can not get motivated. I started cleaning out my drawers and putting away my poor summer clothes away. How depressing to pull out sweatshirts and sweaters.
I think I might go to Florida for two weeks in December. It would be over Christmas. It would be the first time I spent that Holiday away from home. I also feel the weather would be a tease for two weeks. Having to return to snow and ice. I think I could live somewhere nice all year round. It would not bother me to never see snow again. I hate everything about it. Not a winter sports person. I like the wood burner because it makes it toasty in the house but that is about it.
I have to get inspiration from somewhere. I have been searching. I am weighted down with a friend whose husband is waiting for a lung transplant. It is his only hope for survival. I feel so sorry for her and him. What a nightmare they are going through.
I am trying to give more of my time to those who need it and voluntered to give out food at a food pantry once a month or more. I think that might help me get focused on others problems and not so much my own. I think it is a good thing to do something for others.
I started to go back to Church on Sundays. I think I need to look to a higher power for comfort. I think this will help my soul. At least I am praying it does.
One of my friends, Lady Nyo is a great writer and is always focused on her writing. You can get to her web site from my links. She writes books and poems, she is wonderful. Check her out.
I wish I could be so motivated and disciplined.
Hey! If you can offer me suggestions on how to get motivated jot them down for me here. I would appreciate it.
Well I better go for now, have the mundane things to do like clean the house and do laundry. Thankless jobs. Someone has to do it. I guess that’s me.
shia
Fall and Winter
Today it is misting rain
Leaving crystal beads of water on my marigolds
Can’t work outside and it is cool, but muggy
Birds chattering and looking for worms
Makes me smile, knowing I better enjoy them now
For fall is here, but winter is knocking on my door
Squirrels looking for acorns, burying them in soon to be forgotten places.
I am not looking forward to the dark and long cold evenings.
Give me a warm blanket and a cup of hot chocolate and a good book
It is time for nesting and making a dent in the pillows.
MAG; Mothers against google
I don’t want to be just another face in the crowd
I long to do something different
No energy it seems, or I procrastinate too long.
I am hungry for knowledge, yet don’t read
Is it all because of the computer where everything is so visual.
Wanting to see things before I read them. I google everything
I am a google addict
I should join Mothers against google; MAG
shia
Cold
In the dark, with eyes closed
I remember you.
No more words to utter
Everything said
No regrets only longing for more time
as I lay in this tomb
wondering what you will do next.
shia
Copyrighted 2009
Just an entry
I woke up this morning and it was raining again. It must have been raining through out the night because we have a small river in our backyard. The dogs wanted to go out, I swear they want to get a shower themselves. I have five dogs so I am busy when it comes to taking care of them all. I treat them like kids, they know my routine and remind me when I am running late.
I was thinking I should write something on my blog, it has been awhile but other things have been distracting. I like to write poetry but I am uninspired as of late.
My head is in many directions from other posts and boards to thoughful meanings into what I am. I am submissive by nature and for the last few days I have wondered about that. Why do some have that nature, while others prefer to be in control. That is what it is, isn’t it? You give up your control to someone else. Well that is all for another day and perhaps on another blog.
I would like to know if anyone drops by this blog just leave a small note. I will continue to write in it daily, I think , like a journal. Maybe I can get back some of my skills and use it the right way.
Thanks for now
shia
Fall is in the air
Summer is almost over, the rain brings a slight chill in the air. Damp and cool, with the hint of autumn arriving. Here where I live you can have open fires and I love the smell of burning leaves. People will be putting pumpkins on their porch steps and all the colors of autumn will be around me. I adore the oranges and bright yellows. It’s a painted picture for sure. I don’t live by any mountains but I would guess they must look brilliant in the fall. I am like a kid in the fall. I sweep up all the leaves in a pile and play ball with my dogs. They love the hunt too, they dive in searching for the ball and the leaves are flying everywhere. I have even laid in the pile of leaves with all the dogs running around trying to figure out what I am doing. It’s so much fun, and it costs no money. Fall is cheap! Just need a rake and a little imagination and there you go.
The smell of burning leaves reminds me of cinnamon and apple cider. Hot cocoa and tea. It is the rest before the winter where I feel so isolated, indoors. I hate driving in the winter, I hate everything about it except our wood burner. The wood burner leaves the house feeling so toasty warm and dry. It is a different kind of heat than the most common gas and electric. You just want to curl up in an blanket and read a good book. Something that takes your mind off the snowing, blowing and drifting outdoors.
I am looking forward to fall. It is a time to get outdoors and act silly. It is a time to reflect on the beauty of the world and the colors mother earth paints for us.
shia
The Basket
Well yesterday, my basement flooded. Five inches of rain total. Many things are ruined and our pumps stopped working. Maybe too much water for them to take, they were humming like old women. Many things are ruined, really almost everything. Drum sets, guitars, speakers, furniture, some antique.
I have something my mother gave me, a three tier basket that stands on the floor. It is an antique and I am worried to go look at it. Maybe if I put it in the sun it will dry it out. I am really upset over that basket. My mother died in 2000 and I have very little from her memory. Even just a few pictures. The flood made me think of how precious memories are and how we should be careful with them.
Other things can be replaced, but things that mean a lot can not. I feel for the Hurricane in the gulf and those people who will lose memories and all their belongings. I am losing one basket but it means so much to me, that I can not tell you the pain it will take to have to throw it away, if I have to. I am going down the basement in a few moments to see what I can save and what I have to throw away. I know Christmas things are down there, halloween things…. But my basket should never have been in the basement.
We don’t live near the gulf, we live in a rural part of Ohio but there was so much rain, I can feel their devastation. I could not think of losing everything.
Today I think about those who have and will lose everything, I am sorry….. I have lost a basket.
shia
Memory
It takes a lifetime to make a memory,
it takes a moment to forget it.
Share something today
before it goes away.
I have learned hard lessons about memories
and how important they can be
How when lost, it seems, so is a part of me
Copyrighted 2008
shia
Writing in anothers Blog
I found it rewarding to write in another persons blog yesterday. I wrote about my nature and how I was raised. It was somewhat cathartic, actually.
I was told to forgive my father for his short comings because he didn’t love me outwardly. Never showed affection to me. Never told me he loved me, until recently. He is 81 years old. I believe he contributed to my nature, the woman I am today. His upbringing was strict, and punishment was often quick and severe. I often thought how unfair he was. Actually, those things made me stronger today as a woman. I don’t cry over silly things, only the things that touch me to the core. I don’t waste time during the day, I was taught that sleeping, was for nightime not during the day. We couldn’t watch TV until after dinner, and the girls must help clean and do the dishes.
The boys did the mens work, cleaning the basement and garage every Sat. How in their teens they hated that. If they had plans for the day they would make sure they got up early enough to get it done.
Discipline is something that lacks today. We give the kids the power and are afraid of corpral punishment. Trust me, I had a few good slaps to my ass when I was young. I am still here, and can barely recall the incidents, but I do recall the punishments.
It takes a town to raise a child? It takes a good mother and father who are willing to set limits. It takes parents who are not afraid to punish, take away toys, take away things they want or enjoy. Tell me how many kids do you know with Cell phones? When I was younger and needed or was suppose to call home I found a pay phone. Tell me have you seen one lately?
I know things change, and we grow from change. However, how well does a child grow who has no limits?
shia
My Heart Dog
This title came from a friend, avatara. It made me think about what that means . I know exactly how it feels to have one. I had a Labrador, black and English, his name was “Kane” He was the biggest puppy I had ever seen with a huge square head. I fell in love with this dog, to the point I was obsessive with him, and him, with me. We were inseparable. I did not have a fence at the time, but he was pretty good at staying in the yard. He grew to weigh over 120lbs and was a big baby, thought he was a lap dog, kind of guy.
This dog knew when I was depressed after losing my mother in 2000. He slept with me, he laid under my desk with his big head on my foot. He followed me everywhere.
I loved him dearly. Sadly, one day we were outside and I came into the house, thinking someone else was watching him. No sooner did I think of him, he was hit by a car and killed in front of my house. He was dead on impact. I cried uncontrollably for days. I couldn’t do anything without him. I was a basket case. We buried him in our yard and I miss that dog today more than I can say. My mother died in January and Kane died in May. God gave that dog to me to help me through my mothers death, I swear that to be true. When he got killed, my heart was broken again. I kept murmuring, “What am I going to do now?”
I could not look at pictures of him for the longest time. I couldn’t talk about him, and still have trouble thinking about that dog. He was my comfort when my mother died. We had a special bond that dog and I. One I will never forget.
Now to the present, I have five dogs and a cat. Two dogs were rescue dogs and so was the cat. I have love for all my dogs and find them each unique with their own personality. But I know what it means to have a “Heart Dog.” So nicely said by my friend avatara.
I find fun with all my dogs, we play ball, they remind me when it’s time to eat or go out. They are all males and very demanding! There is one lab who is becoming my heart dog. I am letting him in. I swore I would never love a dog as much as Kane. It hurt too much to lose him. I love all my dogs, but it is something special to call one your “heart dog”.
Love your animals, they give so much to you. When they are gone it is hard to replace that feeling with another. If you get attached like I do, then you will suffer when something happens to them, or you have to put them down. They give unconditional love.
In Memory of my lab, Kane. I still love you, You were my “Heart Dog”
shia
Unforgiven
What you have done is unforgiven
to take someone to a place
where there is no escape
leaving no trace
Once vibrant and full of life
now half of what I should be
Torn, beat, and just tired
I no longer am just me
You have made a mummy
wrapped in rags and unable to speak
You are laughing, isn’t it funny
how you ruined a life
I am no longer just your wife
But a mere shell
living in hell
Copyrighted 2008
Lust
To want something more
than you can give
I feel like such a whore
Lusting, wanting, waiting
For you it’s such a game
Bringing me to my shame
I cry myself to sleep
And yet you are like stone
This house is not a home
but a dungeon full of emptiness
I blame you, you are so cold
All I ever wanted was someone to hold
shia
Illusive Dream
Where are you, you illusive dream
I have waited long enough, haven’t I ?
I look forward to my sleep
In slumber, I hope to keep
My sanity, my space
No one can invade my peace
Leaving untold stories and fantasy
to myself, hoping they never cease.
Where are you illusive dream?
I have lost you
so it seems.
The Basement
Finally the basement is done. There is one box of curtains that I must go through but everything else has been washed and placed on tables. It was a disgusting mess and the smell was horrible. The insurance says we have no insurance that covers contents, only structure. We have lost a lot of “things” but we still have everything else. I am sure people on the coast would be happy with just one thing. They have lost everything. I am sorry. We still have big things to throw out but we need help with getting them out of the basement. I bought some things at Home depot that were great to use. For mopping there was an industrial clean that they use in hospitals it had no odor. I also used a spray for mold and it had no odor also. I can’t take heavy odors they react on me. If anyone needs the name of these things please let me know I can send them to you privately. My basement doesn’t smell half as bad as it did, but we keep two fans constantly moving the air and the windows are left open. I would not wish this on my worst enemies. heh.. I don’t have any that I can think of… oh well…
Well for now we are dry.. Hopefully we stay that way!
shia
Tarnsman of Gor
I find this fun. There are going to be a group of women who are going to start reading the books in order. Then we will discuss them on a forum. The forum is private unless approved by the moderator. I have not been able to start reading, but today I am going to find time to start. I have read this book at least three times before, but it has been a long time. It is funny, how when you read a book, years later you have forgotten what you read, you may recall the plot but details are gone.
In the Gor series, the details are what matter most. The quotes, the philosophy of the books. Normans writings are somewhat tedious to get through at times but he does have a wonderful way of placing you in a certain time.
I am missing a few of the books and will have to buy them, but there are a few places you can get them. There are some hard to find books and those are the ones I am missing.
If you read a book just once, I guarantee you will have to read it again. You just don’t soak up everything in reading it just once.
If you are Gorean, you know what I am talking about.
Well, that is enough for now, have to go read!
shia
Mastery
He led her through the doorway
she filled her lungs with air
until she felt dizzy
He was seducing her in everyway
and she could only follow
How well he commanded her
she loved his sexual play
He moved her to the bed
where gently he laid her down
the sheets wrinkled under her naked body
still he made no sound
His hands roamed over her body
she felt it lift to his touch
such a fire in her belly
she loved him so much
they made love until dawn
she felt alive and excited
over and over he made her cum
she lost count and control
He was so in control and demanding more
This was like never before
He had mastered her to such a degree
her voice was heard among the slapping of bodies
a tiny voice, begging, and making a plea
To stop, to give more, to never end
His mastery is what she needed
He never stopped , although she pleaded
How giving he was
how she seemed so selfish
He took more that she knew
She gave all she could too
Slave Beauty
“Yes, Master” she murmured.
He stood an arms length away from her, raised his hand and twirled his index finger for to turn around.
With tiny steps she began to move in a circle, her arms and hands behind her back, fingers laced together.
She was nude, her body tanned and still shimmering from the baby oil she applied after her shower.
She continued to move in a circle until he said , “Stop”.
He was admiring his choice in slaves, she was beautiful he thought.
She was somewhat embarrassed of her body but did what she was told. She was older and felt not so attractive any longer. She had also gained a few pounds and could be seen clearly nude. She had tears in her eyes, thinking she was ugly and that is why he stood so quiet and stern.
“girl, you please me, you are a beautiful slave. You are mine.”
Her heart sank at his words, he did find her beautiful. He never lied to her before.
“Master, may a girl speak?” He nodded his head and still stood before the naked girl.
“You say a girl is beautiful, but she does not feel that way.” He nodded again and this time spoke low and even.
“girl, you are beautiful to me, not just how your body is, but your heart and soul. Do you think these things don’t matter?” “Your submission is beautiful, you always want to be found pleasing to me, and you are”
She cried softly, tears falling like small raindrops on apples on a tree. He smiled and touched her breast. She shivered just from that one touch.
“Beauty is not just physical, you have fine attributes. Lovely hair, a beautiful skin tone and a heart of gold.”
”These things matter, I could have a dozen beautiful slaves, but if none have submitted to me like you have, they are all worthless.”
”You girl are beautiful inside and out.”
He smiled and offered his hand to her, she took it proudly for she knew he loved her for who she was, not what she looked like. Her submission to him was pure. She knew now she wanted to be his slave forever, and she would make sure she was “beautiful” in all she did for him.
She knelt before his feet and placed a loving kiss on his shoe. She took her long hair and wrapped it around his ankles, she bound herself to him as she knelt.
shia
That thin line between pain and pleasure
Everything seems fine, then he pulls out a rope to bind you. You are scared but excited at the same time. Hoping he doesn’t hurt you when binding you. He ties your hands behind your back, several loops around them. The fibers of rope slightly cutting into your skin. Squeezing.
You begin to breathe faster, deeper. He blindfolds you, now your senses are off. You can’t see, but your hearing is heightened. He begins to whisper about things he is going to do to you, you shiver with excitement. Still there is some fear in your bones.
He takes one leg and binds it to the bed, sliding the other leg over he binds it also. You are on your belly, blindfolded, spread eagled. Biting your bottom lip hard you whisper. “What are you going to do to me/”
Without hesitation he answers “anything I want.” You begin to tremble, fear has crept slowly over you. He slides off the bed and stares down at you, vulnerable, open for his use.
He takes a whip and begins to trace your spine with its tail. The leather is smooth, but cool. Over the curve of your ass and then it lifts. WIth a crack in the air, he connects the skin of your ass with the whip. You can feel the welt, and the burn of the whip.
You cry out, even with tears in your eyes. “Stop, that hurt” again the whip cracks and you stiffen your body waiting for the cool leather. Again, across your ass, almost making a criss cross red welt over the other one. You can hear your own voice screaming out. “Please, stop”
The whip strikes again, and again. You writhe in pain but being tied and helpless makes you feel excited.
WIthout a word he takes the whip and draws it slowly over your pussy. You are frightened now for real. It will sting for sure over the sensitive parts of your pussy. You lay quiet, afraid to speak. Either way, he will do what he wants.
Instead he nudges your pussy lips arpart and begins to rub the handle of the whip against you. You moan sortly, you enjoy this , although your ass still stings from the kiss of the whip.
He brings you to your orgasm with the whips handle, fast and furiously. You cum like you never have before.
You think to yourself,why? Am I a pain slut, or did I just enjoy being bound?
Either way, he got what he wanted, when he wanted.
Your question remains a foggy one, one that you will think about for days.
Do you believe she enjoyed the pain?
shia
Transgender
I wanted to post something that is a little controversial. On another web site there is a transgender male calling himself a slave. In the books, most slaves did not like male slaves (kajirus). I am unsure how I feel about this on the Gorean board.
I am not against what he is doing for himself. I feel that if that is what is going to make him complete then he should do it. However, Goreans believe in the Natural order of things, and in this respect I just don’t get it. Why would he want to be there knowing that the men will certianly disagree about what he is. And, the women.
I can not welcome him to the board because I believe in the natural order of things and he is deffinately not in that order.
Again, I say, I do not have any problem with what he is doing, I just wonder if he has read the books why come to a Gorean board to post.
slightly confused,
shia
Fall Haiku
Orange shades of fall
red color splashes the ground
yellow paths of leaves
———————————-
yellow cornstalks stand
in corners of gray and blue
Orange ruffled leaves blow down
shia
Fall is Coming
I can smell the season in the air. Leaves burning, and just the crisp air is enought to tell me fall is on it’s way.
I like the fall, though I hate to think of winter just behind it. I like raking leaves and putting them in piles. The little kid is not gone from me, because I search for the most beautiful leaf. Usually a Maple leaf, so colorful, yellow, red and orange. Three colors so brightly paint one leaf.
My dogs love the fall too, they run and I can hear the crisp leaves under their paws. The mornings are dewey and they always come in with slightly damp feet. They love to run through piles of leaves I make and throw their ball into the pile. They look so funny when they come out with a leaf on their head or face.
Fall is quiet, good for hot chocolate, a book or crocheting. I started a blanket last year, this year I am going to finish it. When I crochet I think of my grandmother, she is the one who taught me. She passed away many years ago. I was only a young kid when she taught me. I even taught my mother how to crochet after I learned. She made beautiful blankets for each of us kids. Mine however, is long gone through moving several times, I lost it. I think of it often though and wish I had it.
Crotcheting something for someone is an heirloom. They can keep it forever because it lasts that long. It washes nicely and remains the original shape. I am going to make things for people I care for, as long as I can keep my interest in doing it.
Fall, a warm blanket, a cup of hot chocolate, and a good book!
shia
Pumpkin – Haiku
Smiling orange smiles
Some to scare you with their eyes
I want pumpkin pie
shia
The beautiful Hit
Roberto, was in the la cosa nostra. He was a young fifty years old, with dark hair and not a speck of gray in it. By most standards he would be considered handsome. He frequented girlie bars and dropped a lot of money on tips. He could afford the money, there was no problem with spending a couple thousand each night.
He was not a boss, but a hit man. He was paid well for his hits, usually they were higher up mob members from different turfs. He had a target on his back, and always looked over his shoulder.
Roberto dressed finely, in Italian made suits and shoes. Rolex watch and bling that could blind you. However it did not look gaudy on him, he actually glowed in it against his olive skin tone.
He met a dancer named Brandy and though not in love with her, showered her with gifts and kept her in an apartment on 43rd street in New York.
Roberto was careful in all that he did, he had to have control of all his surroundings and what lived inside his circle.
Brandy was in that circle, he fucked her when he wanted, kept her in spending money and everyone was happy.
He usually wore a bullet proof vest under his suit, no need to take any chances he thought when buying it. He took too many chances as it was.
Roberto received information on his next hit. A woman, an informer. She was fooling everyone , even, Roberto. It was Brandy. His heart sank, wondering how she could turn on him and give information to the Marino family. It was about him, she played him good, three years good.
The hit was to take place before the following week, and Roberto cringed for the first time when given a hit request.
“That bitch. that fucking bitch.”
He was now starting to get over the shock and get angry.
“I’ll kill the bitch and make it worth my while, slow and painful. That fucking bitch”
He was hurt but also angry that she double crossed him, after he gave her the world.
She must have had no love for him at all.
The Marino family was his biggest rival family. Wanting control of New York and Vegas. Guns, cocaine and other drugs, both families fought for control. Marino was winning by a slight lead and it only angered Roberto more,knowing that most of the info came from Brandy.
He would kill her tonight and get it over with, he was going to be extremely careful since her murder could be traced back to him easily.
He called Brandy and told her to meet him at her apartment at 8 pm, they were going to have dinner together and spend the night together.
Brandy sounded thrilled and hung up with a short little,
”Love you Rob”
Roberto thought all day on how he was going to do it. He wanted to make it look like a robbery or serial killer. Not just one gun shot through the head and that was it. He wanted the Bitch to suffer for her crossing him.
Roberto arrived at Brandy’s apartment, holding a small box wrapped plainly with one red ribbon.
“Oh! is that a present for me?” Brandy chirped
“Sure, sure it is,” said Roberto” With a slight grin.
“It’s not for now, it’s a gift for later” Roberto said calmly and entered the apartment laying the box on a small cherry wood table.
He looked around at all the expensive furniture and decorations he bought for the apartment and felt like a fool.
“This is a nice place Brandy, you really laid it out” He said with a pursing of his lips.
Brandy cocked her head to look at him and wondered why he was bringing up the apartment after three years.
“Thanks Rob, if it wasn’t for you, I would not have such nice things. You take care of me babe.”
Roberto smiled and sat down, sliding deeply into the cushy chair.
Roberto thought it was going to be a shame to kill Brandy, but she had become such a liability. Plus, she knows things she should not have knowledge of. She had to die.
Brandy stood near Roberto trying to entice him into the bedroom, her full lips were glossy with lipstick and they pouted in such a way that Roberto had a hard time not just grabbing her and kissing her.
Her figure was statuesqe, Roberto didn’t like women too skinny or too heavy, but he loved a woman with curves and a full bosom. Brandy had these qualities.
She knelt before him and placed a juicy kiss on his knee, she left it moist and stained slightly from her glossy lipstick. He was pissed but loved to see her on her knees.
“Babe, come on , I need you.. my pussy is wet.”
Roberto smiled and stood taking her hand so she could stand and quietly led her into the bedroom. She hurridly slipped out of her tight black dress, she was wearing nothing underneath.
She jumped to the bed and Roberto meticulously undressed , laying his clothes over the back of a chair.
He left his tie on the bed and slid in next to her. She moaned and slid her nude body against his. They started making love, kissing and hands roaming freely over each others warm bodies.
Roberto turned her so she was on her stomach and urged her to her knees, he liked it doggy style it always made him feel in control.
He slid his cock slowly into her pussy, it was warm and slick, slippery slick. He began to ride her, pumping her with deep , long strokes of his cock. She was moaning and trying to push her body back onto his cock to feel it even deeper.
Roberto reached for his tie, and gently wrapped it around her neck. Brandy was excited at the feel of the expensive silk against her skin. She began to cum, and he did too. As he did, he tightened the tie around her neck, at first she didn’t fight, but in a few moments she knew he meant business. She began clawing at the bed and at the sheets. Trying so hard to breathe. He was slowly taking her breaths away, his cock was still inside her, though he felt muscles tighten around it.
Finally, she breathed her last breath, and Roberto slipped from her pussy. Stood up, and wiped his body clean with the sheet and got dressed, tucking the tie into his suit pocket.
He walked to the living room and retrieved the little box and opened it. Inside was a ring he bought for her, he slipped it on her finger. It was an engagement ring.
He felt sad that he had to kill Brandy, but then again it would come down to her word against his. He couldn’t take the chance. He left the room and quietly left the apartment. No one saw him coming or going, he walked to his car and drove off. Sadly he went to a restaurant where he was known for an alibi and stayed there all night until closing.
He knew he made one mistake, he left his dna inside her. He was doomed. He drank, fucked and killed someone all in one night. He went home to sleep off the liquor and forget what he did.
In the morning there was a knock at his door. It was the cops, he knew it would not be long before they figured out it was him.
The Mob
I am half Italian and half Irish. The Italian side always was dominant in my life. The Irish always took a back seat.
I look Italian but my mom would say there were dark Irish too, since Spain had invaded Ireland. The only thing I think that is Irish is my wit and the few freckles across my nose.
My mom was dark haired but had crystal blue eyes.
The reason I am writing this is because I am going to start writing about the mob and my always curious nature with it.
My dad gambled a lot and was privy to truck load sales when I was younger. I never thought he was in the mob, but I knew they had “connections”
Do you know when they would go to teamster meetings, the construction business I am speaking about they would ask for any guns to be checked at the door.
Strange isn’t it? I recall a lot of things from when I was a child, like my father who had a passion for racing horses. I would be 5 or 6 and went with him to the track. I could read a race form when I was around 7, and understood it. I was betting with him, at a young age. He would place bets for me.
Once I bet on a long shot and had to borrow a 1.00 from my mom. The horse won and he would not lend me the dollar telling me he had a good feeling about the race and the long shot would not win. He took my ticket and stood in line to cash the money, we won 122.00. I paid my mom half and he kept the 22.00 saying he stood in line and deserved it. lol.. Oh well.
He would send us kids up to sneak up on the owners to hear what they were saying, see which horse they liked. Being a kid we went pretty unnoticed. We would wait up for him to see if had won that night, and lots of time he had a stack of money. Oh by the way, the 50.00 I won, when I got home he reminded me of the dentist bill I owed. It was a sad win to say the least.
I am going to do a little research on the mob and write something about it. Should be fun, since my favorite movies are Scarface, Goodfellas, The Godfather. You know the types of movies I like!
I think I almost wished I lived during the good old boy day when it was exciting, Now we only have depressing things to look at, the crash of the economy, mortgage lenders going bankrupt. All the things that might put us back into a depression. We sure seem to be in one.
Well that is enough for now, going to do some research and come back to my blog.
Oh I forgot to mention every Sunday morning the phone would ring and the voice on the other end would say his name was “the bookie”. I would call out to my father..”Dad, it’s the bookie” Never really understanding what or who he was. I did find out when I was older, and by then recognized the voice and just told my father “It’s your bookie” Funny, but true.
Looking forward to another day!
shia
Winter
Snowy covered roofs
Blinding white, covered slick roads
I lick a snowflake
Kiss
A ladies soft kiss
Warm, wet and pressed with love
like covered velvet
Hiding — Haiku
Lost in a corner
My shadow is peeking
I hide from the world
Halloween — Haiku
It’s dark and scary
goblins and ghosts are screaming
It is Halloween
Sick Friend
I have a sick friend, she lives far from me. There is nothing I can do to help her, but be here to talk or write. It is something when you find someone in your life you can call your friend. I have met several women online that I have become close with. I never thought I could meet such good friends online.
I worry about my friend, who has taken tests to find out what is wrong and we are hoping for the best turnout. I just wanted to tell her I treasure her friendship and think about her recovery. I want her to know I will be there when she needs, or if she needs me.
I have met someone else online who has become my friend. It is so easy to tell someone you completely trust your secrets. She also has helpful hints on what is wrong with me, and how to overcome it. I believe the seasonal change bothers me, I become melancholy in the winter. It starts in the fall, knowing winter is coming. Sometimes I can’t even enjoy fall, thinking about the freezing days and snow covered driveway. This year, I am going to try and enjoy the winter. Going to drink hot chocolate, which usually I don’t. I am a coffee drinker. Going to shovel snow and try, I mean really try, to enjoy the snow. Perhaps I should build a snowman in my yard and enjoy watching it melt. Knowing that means the temp is warmer.
I think flourescent light bothers me in the winter. It seems to.
I bought myself some watercolor paints and paper, going to paint this winter. Going to read the Gor Series and going to crochet. So I am planning my winter soltace.
I am going to write to friends, write in my blog when I am either high (not literally) or low. Writing seems to help me.
For now, I am going to go clean my bathrooms, a job I hate with a passion. I can not find anything pleasant about cleaning a bathroom. I am trying to be happy.
Blame it on the weather!!!!!!!!!!
shia
My dad is sick
This week my dad caught a cold and Saturday night he went into the hospital for pneumonia. I went to see him last night and he looked really sick. I never seen him so vulnerable.
We talked for awhile, asking the usual questions you ask when someone is sick and then the conversation changed a little.
I don’t see this as a weakness but fear. He told me that Saturday night he went into the bathroom to change his clothes and he couldn’t breathe or catch his breath. He went on to tell me, he was scared. He was scared because he was living alone and scared he was dying alone. I was not shocked at this but saw him in a different light. He is vulnerable, he can be weak and he can admit that he was scared. I never thought I would ever see or hear those things from him.
He is 82 and really in good health, bowls, plays golf, loves going to casino’s. But this is the first time I saw him as a man who needs, and wants help.
If you have read the other things I have written about my father you would know why this was such a surprise to me.
I stayed for over an hour and kissed him when I left, his kiss was different, it was more loving.
I hope he doesn’t get worse, there are things I need to say to him. I will leave those things for a day he is feeling well.
shia
The Tree
Today we cut down a tree that was probably 50 years old or older. I sat and watched the guys prepare the tree for cutting. Tying ropes, cutting lower branches and getting their saws gassed up.
I kind of felt bad, even though the tree was dead, it took up space between the other colorful maples and now there is an open space there. Even something dead can be beautiful and part of a landscape.
I wondered about what that tree stood for, and how I promised myself to plant a new tree in it’s spot.
I am going to miss the thin branches that bore no leaves, the way it slanted just a bit and how it stood proud even dead.
The wood is going to burn in our wood burner this winter so it will be put to good use.
I just thought about how even in nature there is something beautiful in death.
shia
Vampires
Under the streets of New York City, lived a type of vampire that became adjusted to the old train tunnels and sewers. It was dark and dank and these were not the most beautiful of vampires, either.
These vampires did not look like your TV made vampires. They had stringy hair, scars on their faces. And were extremely pale. Their clothes were not the freshest smelling, either.
They did not all get along in the tunnels and sewers, so fights broke out often and they were fights to the death.
At night they would sneak out of the sewers , around 2:00 a.m., wander the streets and find drunks in alley’s, or those that were homeless and no one cared about.
There was one vampire called “Seeker” , the vampires in the sewers did not have full customary names, they went by nick names such as “dweller, lurker, seeker, etc.”
Seeker was turned vampire 2 years ago. Though she never saw his face or knew who he was she felt his presence at times. She was young and naive as a human and even worse as a vampire. She was made, and left to fend for herself.
What happend to her sire? Why did he leave her alone and not teach her the ways? So that is how she became a sewer Vampire, teaching herself the ropes and places to hide and survive among the walking dead, and alive. So far for two years she had done a great job.
She remembered little about her human life, and each day that passed she forgot a little more. She knew she grew up in New York. She knew she was living in an apartment near the Village. But one day, that all had changed.
All the vampires in the tunnels and sewers knew or knew of each vampire there. Seeker was well known. Under the long, dark stringy hair was a 25 year old female vampire. She knew of more infamous vampires who roamed the streets of New York and they had done favors for her at times. But being one of the vampires from the sewer, you were pretty much on your own.
Seeker was a fairly new vampire, she didn’t have much power. But she was in constant blood lust. She could barely wait until night and the time to roam the streets. Mostly, she would look for drunks, she would even catch a slight buzz from the alchohol when she drank. It wasn’t pure blood, but it was the easiest to get.
Under the stringy hair, Seeker was not unattractive, except for the scar that ran down the side of her face. From temple to chin. She earned this scar in a fight and wore it like a badge of honor. She had won the fight and killed her attacker.
Seeker was planing a big night, she was blood lusting so bad that she felt physically ill and weak. It was time.
Usually she didn’t carry anything, but herself out of the sewers. This made it easier to manuever around without something hanging from her shoulder or back. Tonight would be no different. There was no preparation made, she climbed the ladder from the sewer, with her strength she slid the manhole cover to the side and slipped out into the streets of Manhattan.
She walked with her head down, she blended in, dressed in black, her long stringy hair just made her look like a homeless person or another junkie on the street.
She walked down streets seemingly forever, aimlessly , with only one thing on her mind. Blood.
Finally, she slipped quietly down an alley where taverns were known to line the street, and strip bars. She always found someone drunk or homeless leaning against brick, graffiti written walls.
Her eyes were better than humans eyes in the dark, and she spotted someone sitting in the corner of the alley dressed in black also. His head was hanging down and he was slumped over like he was dead drunk. She tip -toed closer to take a better look.
The man was young, latino and she started drooling at the thought of his blood. She was too hasty, to much in need and did not check him out well. She lunged at him, sunk her teeth down into his neck as she pushed back his hood from his sweatshirt and drank.
The blood was thick and it was cool, she had made a mistake, she was drinking from another blood starved vampire. The blood drunk from another vampire will kill another vampire. She hurridly spit out his blood, wiped her mouth and began to panic. It was too late, she could feel her body begin to react to the blood, she began to tremble, shaking like she would lose her footing. Seeker was in trouble, big time. The only thing that would save her was drinking blood from an elder, and she didn’t see that happening soon.
Seeker slid to the ground, writhing in pain, when all of a sudden a man stood over her and began to speak.
“You really did it this time, you are going to die. You were hasty and made a mistake. For that you are going to pay.”
Seeker was dying and watched the dark figure that hovered over her. She could do nothing but roll around in extreme pain.
The man raised his wrist to his lips, sliced the tanned skin with a fang bringing blood to the surface. The blood was dark but rich in color, he was a very old vampire.
He leaned down and held his wrist firmly against Seekers lips, pressing his wrist to her mouth firmly so no blood would escape. She drank his blood, and licked the wound hungrily.
The man stood up abruptly pulling his wrist from her mouth with a sneer.
“Enough, you will live, I should have let you die for your mistake.”
She sat up, feeling woozy from the blood. It was strong and she would earn some of his powers for a couple of hours until his blood no longer ran through her veins.
“You are a stupid girl, you almost paid for it with your life.” He said calmly.
“Thank you, you came from no where, and saved me, why? said Seeker.
The latin man stood gazing at her with some weird lovingly look on his face for a moment.
“You don’t need to know everything this early, time will tell you the things you need to know. For now, be glad you are alive” He chuckled and said.. “Rather I should say undead.”
Copyrighted 2008
This will be a series of writings, this is the first of a few.
Thanks for reading!
shia
Dad and Soup
Well, I visited my dad the other day. Went grocery shopping for him and made him homemade soup. An Italian soup we learned how to make from my grandmother. It helps your cold, I swear it.
If you have been reading my blog you know he was in the hospital with pneumonia. We chatted but nothing serious, he was actually to ill still to even talk. He kept coughing. I wanted to talk about a few things, but didn’t.
He has not been the most loving of fathers, but I could tell he was appreciative of my efforts. I think this experience has left him a little scared to be alone. I think he see’s he does “need” other people, something that is hard for him to accept.
I wanted to clean for him too, but he has a lady that comes every two weeks who does his cleaning, and he told me the condo was just cleaned. I tried.
Well, I think we bonded over the soup, he talked about how he hasn’t had it since my mother passed away. He told me how much he loved it and it helped him to feel better.
Funny, what soup can do.
shia
Submissive
I have known for a long time I am submissive. It is hard to discuss this with people who do not understand what it means. How it affects your sexuality and your relationships.
I am in a position that I can not discuss my submissive nature with my partner. He is not Dominant. It takes a toll, knowing you are keeping a secret, and have no one to tell it to. Especially a partner.
I am unhappy, and yet I stay. Life is more than sex, however, if you are witholding information about yourself. It becomes heartbreakingly, lonely.
I think the biggest part of the keeping secrets is the lonliness you feel. How detatched you become.
I think, I will never be happy in this relationship. I have not been happy for a long time. I have a few good friends I talk to now, which helps greatly. They understand and give me strength. Mainly, I appreciate their friendship.
There are so many things I would like to discuss about sex with my partner, but can’t. It is sad, don’t you think?
If you can’t discuss issues with your partner, you are really in trouble.
I often wonder if I am the only one who has these issues. I wonder if other people keep things a secret like I do. It is like being gay and being in the closet. I am in a submissive closet.
There are other issues I can add to this, but for now, I better stop. It is making me depressed again!
shia
Sex and Lonely People
She was stuck in a dead end marriage. Two kids, grown and out of the house. There had been no sex in over 10 years. Why did she stay?
Her name was Lucy, she stayed with her husband because she had no place to go. She loved him, but no longer was in love with him. There were times she actually hated him for things he did or said. He would humiliate her in front of people at times by making smart ass comments. These comments were usually, something she did, or didn’t do. He would always say “It was just a joke.” However, the joke was always on her. They were not funny, but hurtful. Lucy got to the point she just stayed quiet and just took it. She had really and truly given up.
All her jobs were chores, there was nothing fun about anything anymore. She did them because she had to. She no longer wanted to do any of them. Why? It was never appreciated nor was there any positive comments.
Lucy was tired of not feeling like a woman any longer. She never got a compliment, and could not remember the last one she heard from him.
The kids had their own lives to live, and were oblivious to any problems because there was no fighting any longer. There was just silence, from Lucy.
Lucy was slipping into a deep depression and could tell the signs herself. There was no fun in anything, no laughter. She was withdrawing into herself. It was becoming dangerous.
Once while she was shopping one of the store clerks smiled at her, she smiled back half hearted. Later she thought about that smile and wished she had seemed more cheerful and appreciative of the kindness of the man. She just did not feel good about herself any longer and it was hard meeting peoples eyes.
She went back to the grocery store the following week and the clerk was there again. Lucy felt a little embarrassed. She was not used to any attention. Again, the clerk smiled and Lucy gave him a wide and beautiful smile back. It felt warm this time, it felt good to have someone smile at her. It allowed her to feel.
Lucy began to visit the grocery store more each week, claiming to her husband she forgot to get things. She was spending a little more money on these visits and knew she would hear about it too. The man wore a name tag, and Lucy read it and smiled. John was his name, and Lucy thought how simple but masculine.
On one of her visits to the store, John asked her if she needed help finding anything. Lucy blushed and told him that she knew the store like the back of her hand. John looked disappointed. Lucy, saw his expression and remarked softly;
“Well, unless you have some great sale you can tell me about?”
They both laughed and John shook his head slowly.
“Nope, nothing major on sale today, not with the prices going up everyday”
He was smiling the whole time he spoke, there was something mischievous in his eyes as he looked at Lucy.
They talked about general things for a moment, the weather, how far she had to drive in the rain and would she like to get a cup of coffee someday.
Lucy was shy, but told him she would be glad to meet for coffee and good conversation.
She was lonely, she needed a companion to talk with, to share with. She was shocked she took him up on his offer.
The following week they met at a Starbucks close to the grocery store. They chatted for two hours. Lucy was elated that she found someone to smile and laugh with. They made plans to meet the same day, the following week at the same time.
Lucy and John had been meeting for months, they never discussed their private lives. This time was different. John finally asked Lucy if she was married. She wanted to say no, she bit her tongue before speaking.
“Yes, I am married, but I have been unhappy for many years.” Lucy said sadly and quietly, as if not to let anyone over hear her.
John sat quietly and smiled softly, nodding in understanding her words and feelings. After Lucy finished, John looked at her and told Lucy his story.
“I too am married. My wife has been ill for over five years with Cancer. She has a brain tumor and doesn’t even know who I am. It has been hard, but I do it because I made a committment to our marriage.” He looked at Lucy his eyes seemed misty as he spoke. Lucy listened with compassion.
They were both lonely and they needed someone, they made plans to meet at a hotel the following week. Lucy was nervous, knowing that they would have sex and she couldn’t tell John it had been over 10 years since she had sex. She was afraid he would think less of her as a woman. Someone who didn’t feel anymore. To a certain extent, that was true.
Friday came, and Lucy took hours to prepare.
She bought a new blouse and skirt, new shoes and even a new lipstick. She was nervous and kept doing her long dark hair, curling it and brushing it. She tried many styles, but kept the one she always wore anyway.
She went to the desk and asked for John Gerber’s room, and smiled nervously, repeating the room number after the concierge told her.
“Room, 303″ she asked more than stating it. She was trembling.
She took the elevator to the third floor. Found 303 and knocked on the door, very, lightly.
John opened it and to Lucy’s surprise he appeard as nervous as she did.
“Hello , Lucy, come in please.” He waved his hand in the air and towards the room.
The room was like any other hotel room, nothing fancy. A bed, table and chair and a Television. Suddenly, Lucy was afraid.
“Don’t be nervous, we know why we are both here, don’t we?”
He reached out to pull Lucy into his arms, smelled her hair and perfume and moaned softly into her ear.
He whispered softly into it.
“I’ve been so lonely, now your here. I am not lonely anymore.”
They both began to kiss, warmly and softly at first, then hungrily.
John began to unbutton Lucy’s blouse and his hands were cold and she thought they might have trembled a little. Much like her own. They began to undress each other and John pushed her back to the bed.
Lucy slid onto the bed, the bedspread was satiny and felt cool against her back and ass. John slid next to her and pulled her closer, soon they were kissing and their hands roamed over each others bodies in a lustful way. Quick and warm.
He urged Lucy to her hands and knees and slid his fingers between her thighs, rubbing her clit. Lucy’s hips were moving in small circles and needful.
She was moaning, she could hear herself. She thought she would cum right away with his fingers but managed to hold off. Johns cock was throbbing, he slid just the tip into her. His hand winding into the silky strands of her long hair.
He thrusted back and forth slowly, Lucy came. He was not satisfied with just one orgasm, he wanted more from her. He rode her hard, thrusting in and out deeply. His hand and fingers pulling on her hair. She came again, this time wetter and harder.
Suddenly, she felt John grow harder and throb deep inside her, he was cumming and he grunted emptying his seed deep inside her pussy.
Slowly he withdrew, they lay together on the bed facing each other. Lucy was crying, and John was quiet but wiped away her tears.
For a moment they lay in silence then Lucy spoke.
“Thank you for making me feel like a woman again, I can’t remember the last time I felt this way. So alive, so content” She smiled through a few more tears.
John laughed softly and said;
“You don’t need to thank me, we are two people who are lonely, and forgot what it felt like to be human. How to feel. How to give.”
They both lay in each others arms and made plans to meet again, each Friday at the same place and same time.
It has been two years. John’s wife passed away a month ago and they are talking about Lucy divorcing her husband.
They are making plans, two people who were lonely.
Copyrighted 2008
shia
Raw Sex
No, don’t tell me your name
faces and lovemaking, all the same
I just want to feel
something to make my head reel.
No need to make friends
One time, and that’s the end.
Just make love to me
let my feelings be.
I just want raw sex
down and dirty, make my muscles flex.
Copyrighted 2008
Crimson Blush Haiku
He spanks me swiftly
Leaving red welts on my ass
Shiny crimson blush
Copyrighted 2008
shia
Ballerina – - – Tanka
A ruffled tutu
The ballerina dances
With song in her heart
Tiptoeing across the stage
Into a world of silence
Copyrighted 2008
shia
Dance – - – Tanka
Dance in the moonlight
Under the twinkling stars
Shadows cavorting
Fornicating in the dark
Leaving breathless,wet whispers
Copyrighted 2008
Pay Backs
In my teens, I have a brother who is a year younger than me. He always teased and did sibling nasties to me. Even though I was older, I couldn’t compete with him, he always won.
I have to go into a little detail before the story gets going.
My brother had some acne. If he would have one pimple he would freak out. He is very good looking and had a lot of girlfriends. But when the dreaded pimples would come out, he would dab calamine lotion on them. I don’t know if you ever saw calamine lotion dry, but it flakes, and hangs loosely from your skin. It makes you look like a monster. Well anyway…
He would apply the lotion like clock work everyday after school and just leave it on. He was so use to it he would forget he had it on , and we didn’t think anything of him walking around with it on his face.
One day after his usual application, he asked me if I wanted to go to McDonalds. I said sure, but I was thinking he was going to wash his face first. But, he didn’t, grabbed his keys and said let’s go.
Oh, I was in my glory, I had it all planned out in my head that this would be the biggest payback ever.
We get to McDonalds, I told him I wasn’t going in, just take my order. The McDonalds was packed with people to the door. He went in, I saw people turning around staring at him. I could see he was getting nervous and wondering why people were starting at him. A few people were laughing. I was rolling around on the front seat of the car in tears.
Finally he came out and I could tell he was perplexed. I told him to look in the mirror, through my laughter.
He was horrified and beat me all the way home. I was still laughing.
Now, I know this sounds mean, however, when your a teen you do mean things to pay someone back when they have been mean to you. I think about it now and, I really don’t regret it. I think he still thinks of it as a nightmare.
Maybe he learned a lesson, I don’t know. However, I had a few good laughs in my years over it.
shia
Taking me to school
Well, I was not one for school. I would cut school when I had the chance, with my friends. I am sorry about this today, however I did graduate.
The principal called my father and told him I was cutting school. He was pissed. So he decided to take me to school everyday, to make sure I got there. Little did he know, I was walking through the school and walking out the back door to waiting friends.
WInter in Ohio can be rough at times, lots of snow and slush. And, freezing temperatures.
One day, when taking me to school it was a rainy snow that left about four inches of wet, dirty, slush on the pavement. He drove through the parking lot to wait in line to drop me off at the door.
I remember his car had a distinctive odor and he always had the heat too high. I would be choking in that car and would have to roll my window down a crack so I wouldn’t die before I got to school. He would always yell at me to close it. I remember it was a horrible drive with him. Listening to nothing on the radio, only him bitching about taking me to school and how he was late every morning for work.
So…. We are in line at the school, my turn to be let out. I get out of the car and walk behind it, and yep… He started to move, got no traction and tires spinning, threw all the slush all over me and my hour making hairdo.
I cursed, and went and knocked on his door. Before I could tell him to take me home he was cursing, and saying words in Italian I didn’t understand. Normally his face never got red, because of his olive skin tone. That day it was red and fire was coming out of his eyes.
What could I do? I was relieved I was going home, and probably going to stay home for the day. He was not in the best of moods.
shia
Touch — Tanka
Unbutton my robe
Let me feel your warm hands
Take me to a place of love
Where no one has before you
It’s been so cold without touch
Copyrighted 2008
Art Class
Tonight I went to art class. I finished drawing my sunflower, stem and leaves. Using a grid. I have never used a grid before. It was difficult at first. I am self taught and breaking bad habits is hard to do.
Tonight I learned how to do some shading, just as I was getting into it, it was time to go.
I look forward to class. It is something for me to do. I am learning how to draw correctly. I am having fun. It’s getting away from the house. And, I love it.
Thought I would share my night with you
shia
Owned Property
He stood waiting,
she kneeled before him
her head pressed to his knee
“what say you, girl?”
A soft whisper, barely heard
“I want to submit, Sir,
I beg, to be yours”
He stood in silence, and stared down
“I accept you submission, you are mine now.”
Did she know, she was his in every way?
Mind, body and soul. Her thoughts were not her own
They were owned, just as she was now.
Copyrighted 2008
Today
I’m afraid of you
All the things you can do
Even words, can make me shiver
Tears, make my bottom lip quiver
You bring the best out of me
But I am still scared to be
Someone with who you just play
Leaving me nothing, to say
You know, eventually you will have to set me free
I understand, you see
That there is no future, but only today
No matter what you say
Copyrighted 2008
I hate you
I so hate you, I can’t even begin to put it down in words. It is horrible to hate someone , but you MADE me do it. With your cruel jokes, your small mind and petty ways. I can’t save a penny for myself without you constantly badgering me about the few bucks I save. Until I finally, like I did this morning, throw it at you. Leave me alone already. I hate you
shia
Winter Snow — Haiku
Winter is coming
Snow will be deep and cold
The air will be crisp
Copyrighted 2008
Winter Warmth — Tanka
Winter Warmth
In three feet of snow
Lay me down and keep me warm
Under crunching white
You move above me, to heat
I will never be so hot
Copyrighted 2008
I am strong
Without going into details, I am a strong woman. I have been living in a relationship that was over years ago. I stayed for all the wrong reasons. I stayed because I didn’t want to be a failure. I gave up everything in this relationship, including who I am.
I guess, if I could reach one person with this message it would be, if the relationship is not working now, it won’t later, either. There will be too many tears and sleepless nights wasted on trying to fix something that is not fixable.
I don’t consider myself weak for staying, I consider myself a strong person who, for reasons chose to deny herself of love, and physical contact of any kind because of responsibilities and committment.
Though, it is time for me to find a new life, I am afraid to make those steps. I am not afraid of being alone, I am afraid of not being able to make it on my own. I would have to find a new home, and be able to pay for that and all the utilities etc, that scares me. I think of others before me, and they have made it.
It will be a shock to friends and family because they think everything is ok. I guess I stayed because of them too. What a horrible thing to do. Would they live unhappy for so many years?
I have tried to work it out, tried to talk, tried to ask, beg, it all falls on deaf ears. I think he is selfish and mentally abusive. I am sure of it now.
Wish me luck, because I am going to come to the fork in the road and turn right and keep on walking. I know, finally I will choose the right path for me.
I am alone now, I can be alone later.
shia
Five Dogs
As I have stated before I have five dogs. Each dog has such a different personality. Not only that I have found that they are true to their breed. Even in a pack, each plays their own role.
The two labs, are so annoying because all they want to do is fetch. I have to play ball with them a couple of times a day. They will not stop pestering until I do.
The Shepard, is satisfied with guarding the yard. He doesn’t play ball. He is too serious about watching the perimeters of our yard. Nothing can come near it without a bark from him. Which is good. He doesn’t bark unless something is near. Good Boy.
The rottweiler is also a guard. He likes to play ball, but will not give it up when he catches it. Instead he is selfish and lays down to guard it, and no one can take it away from him. Though the two labs try. Once it is in his jaws there is no prying it out. He is also, very, very gentle. Despite their bad rap.
The Chihuahua I don’t even know if I spelled that right. lol.. He has his role, he thinks he is the boss of the other dogs. He is also a hoarder and loves to tunnel into blankets. We have to check the blankets before sitting on the couch because usually, he is under it. He also has a toy he uses to chew on before he goes to sleep at night. It’s like a baby with their blanket.
He also, bosses the other dogs, they completely ignore him, knowing in one bite they could have his head. They just put up with him. He is also overweight by about 3lbs. He should weigh 5lbs the max and I believe he weighs about 8lbs today. He looks like a jelly bean. He also likes to sing. He is a great singer, even rolls his r’s.
Together , they make a pack. The leader is the German shepherd. Though the oldest, 15 he is still the pack leader and can put any of the other dogs in their place. One of the labs, is trying to get to be the leader, but he just can’t take the sheperd down just yet.
With all this dog talk, they can be pests. I love them and wouldn’t have it any other way. However, I will never own five dogs again. lol
Too much work..
shia
Play with my heart
Here I sit, contemplating
all the what if’s
and what about dating?
I don’t think I can start
So early on my own
I must be smart
this time, I know
No one can play with my heart
Lost woman
Mirror reflections
That, of someone I don’t know
where did that woman go?
Lost, but not forgotten
A mere shell of what she was
Change of seasons
This morning while drinking my cup of coffee, I was thinking about how changing of seasons affects me. The time change makes it get darker in the evenings, so early now. At 5:30 it’s dark. It is cold now, and damp due to the rain for the last two days. That kind of dampness goes right through to your bones and makes you feel chilled quicker.
I know that I am more quiet in this weather, less energy, and the need to do something creative is overwhelming. It’s time for crafts, drawing, and sewing. I have three sewing machines and have not used one since last winter. I am also I might add, not a great sewer. I have inherited two sewing machines.
I don’t look forward to winter, but once it is here, I enjoy the quiet and stillness of things. The feeling of being in a cocoon and growing, waiting for spring.
I look forward to spring, the first flower that pops out of the earth. I have many flowers in my yard that were given to me and it is nice to get flowers from people. When they come up, it reminds you of them. I am sorry, that I did not get a rose bush from my mothers yard or a cutting. What a lovely thing to have had from her.
Summer, makes me too hot, but I enjoy playing outside. I play with the dogs, and we have a 4ft pool I swim in. I can’t believe the pool is still standing, but we paid a fortune for it and they were right when they said a lifetime guarantee. I sometimes work in the yard and then jump in the pool, get cool and wet and continue my work. I have olive skin color and don’t usually burn, although one time last year, my face and shoulders and chest did get burned.
I love fall, it makes you want to see gods gift in the coloring of the tree’s. Each year they are more brilliant than the last. This year do to a wind storm, we lost some of the leaves early. But we still had a beautiful display of colors.
Fall is about the senses, seeing it, smelling apples, cider, it awakens your senses to the beauty around you. Fall can be messy too, all the leaves falling makes your yard a blanket of reds and yellow. Time to get out and rake them up! Good excersise if nothing else.
Changing of the seasons changes me, I realized it today, drinking my coffee, with a blanket around me. I smiled, knowing winter is long, but spring is around the corner. So , it begins again.
shia
Blanket — Haiku
Cold and snowy days
The night, frigid, still, and white
Time for a blanket
I have been awakened
The last few days, I have felt a renewel of sorts. Something inside me still burns, I can feel again. I feel pretty, I feel good about myself. I feel like I want to do more for myself. Though I still live in silence, I am happier.
I have recognized what I need, and have become comfortable with that. I know what I am, and am comfortable with that too. There are little questions, but they are not unanswerable.
I want to serve a man, to become his submissive. To have a Master, who will expect much from me, and take what he chooses. I can give fully, I know that now.
I have never denied what I am on here, but for some it may be something they are just learning. I am sorry if you disagree with the whole philosophy. It is unexplainable, and it is to me, the Natural Order of things.
I am not weak, not looking for someone to beat me, or bring me harm. I am not any of those. I look for a strong man, one who I can kneel to and offer my submission, one who will understand what that means, to him, and me.
The main thing is that I am starting to feel good again, all things will fall into place. That is the natural order of things.
Submissive — tanka
Longing to kneel
and to give myself freely
to melt into strength
Willingly to give it all
To a strong dominant man
Copyrighted 2008
Re-write Submissive tanka
Longing to kneel
giving myself up freely
To a man with strength
Whispers of adoration
With a full exchange of power
Copyrighted 2008
Violet Sky
Damn your beauty, violet sky
It makes me humble, and cry
Do you mock me?
Let me be.
In all your splendor
I give in and surrender
Let me be, violet sky
You taunt me, why?
Copyrighted 2008
Lovers embrace
Be mine forever
Like two cardinals that mate
Red against the snow
Into a lovers embrace
Take the chill out of the air
Copyrighted 2008
Thanksgiving
Times have changed since I was a child. I miss those times. I miss my grandparents and my mother. Many aunts and uncles. The good old days when families really, all got together for a huge dinner and visit. That meant tons of cousins and children running around the basement, yelling and playing.
I think it just got too expensive to invite everyone. I think people bought smaller homes with less dinning room area and basements. Families decided to stay home and just cook for their immediate family. The results were you didn’t see your family as often, your cousins got older and you couldn’t even recognize them when you saw them.
My grandparents wanted the whole family together. Around 30 people , if not more, every Sunday at noon for dinner. Dinner was a major deal, salad, spaghetti, sausage and meatballs. Then chicken and salad, homemade wine and vegetables and mashed potatoes. For some reason, my grandmother always had to have fruit cocktail after dinner. We were stuffed and could not finish it. It seemed like such a waste. Later came homemade bakery, cookies, wine.
It was an all day meal and visit with family. Those were Thanksgiving days. I miss those days. I misss all those relatives that have passed away.
This Thanksgiving, I am going to remember all those people who shaped my life and gave me memories. Thanksgiving is more than having turkey and stuffing, it is a time to remember and a time to give thanks.
shia
Dominant and Submissives
I have a friend, who we talk about this subject all the time. Dominant males, Sadists and masochists and submissives. However, it always leaves us questions.
If there is anyone out there reading that would like to contribute to this post, we would really appreciate it.
What makes you a Dominant, Submissive, Sadist, Masochist?
Submissive and Dominants – Message Board -
Thank you!
shia
The Christmas Present
Christmas was coming, and like every Christmas it would leave Samantha broke. She was tired of shopping at the same stores, buying the same things for Christmas. Her boyfriend was also tired of all the sweaters she bought him that he would never wear, or wear out.
She sat tapping a nail against her bottom lip, thinking about what to get him. Dominic was not hard to buy for, but, she wanted him to be excited about his gift this year.
What would he want? What has he asked for? She thought and thought until it dawned on her. His fantasy. He always told her he wanted her to make love to another woman, and another woman make love to her. Wait a minute, she thought, this is ridiculous!
She eased herself off the chair and went to her computer. She started to look up escort services. She found many, and looked up some in her area. There were so many, it took her hours to weed through the legitimate looking ones.
She thought about how she was going to fulfill his fantasy, she, was unsure she could even go through with it, She started to click through pictures of escorts and tried to find one that she felt some attraction to, or thought she could.
Finally, she found a petite brunette, with dark brown eyes. She looked at the woman’s statistics and smiled. Dominic would like her. Of course, Samantha knew his taste in women. She was at times jealous if he would take a double glance at one, thinking she didn’t see it. Samantha, always saw it.
She copied down the number and used her house phone, just in case Dominic would check her cell phone.
Samantha called the number and asked about “Sherry”, from, the web page. She explained she wanted to have Sherry come to their home Christmas Eve. Because, it was a holiday, the woman on the phone explained the price would be higher. Samantha agreed, gave her address and phone number. She also charged it on her own credit card. Satisfied she left no trace that Dominic would find out before Christmas.
The more she thought about what she did, she became worried and nervous. However she, was slightly excited about the thought, but would never admit it. She couldn’t figure out if she was more excited about making love to another woman, or making love to another woman for Dominic’s fantasy. She knew he would be excited and probably have a hard on immediately at the sight.
The day before Christmas Eve and Samantha shopped for some things for her and Sherry to wear. She wanted the evening to be well planned and thought out. After all it was a surprise Christmas present for Dominic and Samantha knew what turned him, on.
She picked out a camisole for Sherry and herself. Hers was ruby red and Sherry’s was lacy and cream colored. Both were feminine and lovely. She had Sherry’s gift boxed with a big red ribbon.
Christmas Eve morning, Samantha arranged her bedroom, white satin sheets and fluffy pillows cased in white satin with red embroidered flowers on them. She brought in one of her living room chairs for Dominic to sit and made sure it was set to give a full view of anything that would happen on the bed.
Samantha was nervous having cold feet she opened a bottle of wine and poured a small taste into a glass. It was good, just right for evening. White and light, not too sweet.
Sherry was to arrive at 8pm, and Dominic at 7pm. She was getting things ready but was so nervous she almost called and cancelled Sherry’s appointment. Samantha was getting excited herself, and the nervousness was a sign she was looking forward to it herself. Still, she didn’t understand the feeling.
Dominic arrived promptly at 7pm, carrying a box in his hands. It too had a red ribbon tied around it. She laughed softly to herself, kissed him and closed the door.
They shared wine and snacks and talked, kissed and cuddled and Samantha said she would open his gift after she gave him hers. It was getting close to the time and Samantha was getting cold feet. What if this fantasy, ruined their relationship? Samantha never thought about that. A fantasy is just that, a fantasy.
It was 8pm and the door bell rang. Samantha hesitated to open it and then with a smile, opened the door to a beautiful dark haired woman. They exchanged names, and Sherry entered, offering a soft smile to Dominic who sat there wondering who she was.
Samantha took Sherry’s coat and hung it up in the hall closet. Samantha turned to Dominic to introduce her.
“Dominic, this is Sherry, she is going to be spending the evening with us. She is also going to be a part of our Christmas”
Dominic looked puzzled, but to be polite, he nodded and smiled to both women.
Giving Samantha a quizzical glance.
Samantha thought about the time frame she was allowed to be with Sherry and three hours were not that much and she decided to move along.
Samantha offered Sherry a glass of wine and refilled both Dominic’s and her own. They both chatted with Sherry, asking her where she was from, what she enjoyed doing, and some more idle chit chat. They finished their wine and Samantha disappeared to retrieve her Christmas present for Sherry. Samantha handed her the box for her to unwrap.
Sherry unwrapped the box and looked surprised to see the lacy garment. She whispered a Thank you to Samantha. Samantha moved closer to her, and began to unzip Sherry’s dress, whispering into her ear as she stared into Dominic’s eyes.
“Let’s put this on, shall we?”
Dominic was stunned; he poured himself some more wine, and didn’t say a word. He watched Samantha’s beautiful hands work over Sherry’s clothing and helped her into the camisole. She had a beautiful body tanned and toned. Dominic sat there with a hard on, his cock throbbing already. He was totally attracted to Sherry.
Samantha grabbed her glass of wine, admired Sherry and announced they all move to the bedroom. When they moved to the bedroom, Samantha was carrying the red ribbon from the package. She pointed for Dominic to sit in the chair and motioned for Sherry to slide onto the bed. Dominic sat in the chair but felt disappointed he was not going to take part in any action.
Dominic was stunned. His cock was harder than it had ever been in years and his face was flushed. He thought it was from the wine, but knew it was more. His heart was racing. How was he going to watch what was going to happen without exploding? He started to feel jealous of Samantha. This was not going to be easy to watch, he thought to himself. His girlfriend, making love to another woman. He started to feel anger set in, for Samantha, why would she think this would make such a great Christmas present for him?
Samantha slid on the bed, easily gliding on the satin sheets, next to Sherry. She took the red ribbon and told her she would be blindfolding her. They kissed softly and sweetly. Dominic thought he was never going to last sitting in that chair. He might have to say something, tell them to stop but he didn’t he sat alone with his cock throbbing in his pants.
Samantha blindfolded Sherry with the ribbon. Her hands started to touch Sherry through the thin material of her camisole. It slid against Sherry’s body with each touch from Samantha.
Sherry was truly excited herself. Her perky nipples begged for release under the shiny see through material. Samantha lowered her head and cupped Sherry’s breast and sucked on her nipple through the camisole. Dominic inhaled a deep breath and his anger subsided a little because he was so distracted at the site. He still felt anger at Samantha for not allowing him to at least participate somehow. He also was unsure he felt comfortable with Samantha making love to another woman. Yes it was his fantasy, but that is all it was meant to be.
Samantha began unlacing the front of Sherry’s undergarment, pushing it from her shoulders so her breasts were exposed. The areola were tan, her olive skin coloring not giving a hint of pink except for her now swollen nipples. Samantha leaned in and licked each tip, brushing her moist lips against them. Dominic closed his eyes, not sure he could take another moment without Cumming.
Samantha’s hands cupped and squeezed Sherry’s tits. Samantha was feeling the wetness between her thighs. Now knowing she could do this, she found herself enjoying the indulgence of another woman’s flesh.
She eased the garment down over Sherry’s hips and to her ankles, then off. Her pussy was shaved and Dominic’s eyes were drawn to it. They kissed, deeply, wetly and hungrily. Samantha and Sherry’s hips were moving in need.
Samantha laid Sherry back onto the pillow and knelt between her thighs, pushing, them outward and then sliding her hands under her ass. She lifted her slightly so her pussy was left open and vulnerable to Samantha’s tongue. Samantha first teased Sherry’s shaved pussy with her tongue. Wetly, moving over her puffy lips, flicking the tip of her tongue on her clit. Her nails digging gently into Sherry’s ass. Slowly, Samantha slid her tongue into Sherry’s pussy, her hands moving her up and down on her tongue. Sherry was moaning, the blindfold still in place.
Sherry grabbed her own breasts, pulling on her nipples that were in need of attention, while Samantha tongue fucked her. Sherry’s hips were bucking and Samantha slid one hand down to her own pussy to rub it.
Dominic unzipped his zipper, taking out his cock and masturbated to the scene. He felt like he was going to explode any minute. His cock was never harder. He watched Samantha’s tongue plunging in and out of Sherry’s bare pussy. Though excited he still remained angry at Samantha. He also wanted to fuck Sherry, Samantha created a grave mistake.
Both women were climaxing, and Samantha shivered with her orgasm, bringing herself to that place of wet warmth. She squirted on her own fingers and then turned her head to see Dominic masturbating. He too was close to Cumming. His face showed pleasure but something else too. He was angry.
Samantha reached up to untie the ribbon from Sherry and crept next to her, giving her a loving kiss, wet on her mouth. Moaning softly against it, she whispered. “Your turn.”
Sherry smiled and knelt next to Samantha and then slid a pillow under Samantha’s thighs. She began to undress Samantha, the ruby red beautiful against her alabaster skin. Her thick bush still glistening from her orgasm. Sherry began to lap at Samantha’s pussy, over and over, like a kitten lapping at milk. Samantha’s hips were slowly moving in circles.
Dominic squeezed his cock hard, trying to hold back his release. He wanted to cum but also wanted this moment to last. He murmured to Samantha “slut.”
Sherry scraped her nails over Samantha’s breasts, tugging on her nipples. She flicked Samantha’s clit and rolled it around her tongue. Samantha groaned and instantly came again. Both women were panting softly and Dominic came, he couldn’t hold back a moment longer. Though he came he was frustrated, he wanted to join in the fun and pursed his lips giving Samantha a dirty look. He was angry that she seemed to enjoy the orgasm Sherry gave her, he was also angry that Samantha looked like she enjoyed making love to a woman. He saw a different look on her face during her orgasm. One he never saw before.
Time flew by and it was time for Sherry to leave, she got up and smiled at Dominic and whispered to him, hoping he had enjoyed the evening. Dominic still in orgasmic beauty and pain nodded and tried to grin at her.
Sherry bid her farewells after dressing and Samantha, still on the bed laughed shyly and said. “Merry Christmas love, I knew this would be better than a sweater.”
“Oh I see this was MY Christmas present?” said Dominic tersely
“Yes, I thought it was your fantasy to see me with another woman?” Samantha said with shock on her face.
“Samantha, It was just that, a fantasy” “I admit, I was not too happy with watching, besides, I couldn’t even jump in the middle between the both of you. You were having too much fun together” Dominic said, pouting slightly.
Samantha started to cry and sob. She was sure it was something Dominic would have loved. She now felt selfish and embarrassed for what she did. She couldn’t take it away, the scene happened.
“I am sorry, she said crying.” “I honestly thought it would please you and make you feel good to fulfill your fantasy.”
Dominic shook his head, slightly disgusted.
“I don’t know if things can be the same, I will always see your face making love to her. Not to me.”
Dominic retrieved his present for Samantha, the red bow making her nauseated; she opened it up to find a burgundy cashmere sweater inside.
“Sometimes, a sweater is just fine and necessary. A fantasy should be kept just that, a fantasy” Said Dominic.
Samantha was crying as she smoothed her hands over the cashmere sweater.
“Merry Christmas Samantha, I need time to think about what happened today, I am not happy with myself for telling you the fantasy. I blame myself as well.”
Dominic left the bedroom and the apartment, walking down the street to his car. He was deep in thought, and didn’t want to admit he did love seeing the two beautiful women making love.
Samantha cried softly, then wiped her tears and put on the sweater, murmuring, “Oh well, not only was it Dominic’s fantasy it was mine too. I am happy I did it and have no regrets.”
She stood up and went to her computer again, this time checking to see if she could set up another appointment with Sherry. She thought she would enjoy her over again. What a way to bring in the New Year!
Feelings
In your arms, I want to be
Nothing to fear, Just be close to me
I am begining to feel
Something so real
All my darkness is begining to fade
Tell me all, give me all the dreams you made
I have much to be thankful for
From you, I must have more
Let me drink you in
You are more than a friend
shia
Inner turmoil
DId you ever feel you weren’t good enough, not pretty enough, that you didn’t deserve to be happy? Since my mother died in 2000, I have struggled with all kinds of issues. She as I stated before was not only my mother but my best friend.
She could always make me feel good about myself. I don’t have anyone special, that treats me special anymore. I miss that about her. She made me feel special.
I have been trying on my own to remake myself, mentally and physically. I can’t tell you which one is harder. They are both so difficult to do. I want to feel pretty again, I don’t seem to like how I look and want to change that more than anything. I want to change it for myself.
Mentally, I needed to get into another place for a lot of different reasons. Somethings were making me sick. Fighting back for your peace and harmony is not easy either. The demons won’t let you do certain things, and you believe those demons. They have a stranglehold on you. I am lucky I have a few friends who are helping me each step of the way, but again, it has to come within me, and it is not always easy.
When my mother died, I went into a deep depression. I hit bottom and had to try and talk myself out of it. I knew my mother would be kicking my ass, if I didn’t surface whole from it. I did, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get melancholy, especially at the Holidays. She died not too long after New Years.
I wish I could change a lot of things about me, but, I wonder if I can sometimes. Have you ever wished you were somone else?
I know the story about being unique, but people don’t always love you for that. They look at what your outerself says about you. That is not who you are. You are the person you hide from everyone. That is a good person.
I love the outdoors, I love the changing of seasons. However sometimes Winter can be brutal. But we accept it for what it is. Why can’t people be more accepting?
I guess I have ranted long enough, I just have a few more thoughts on this issue, but will save them for a blustery, winter day.
shia
A new day
Well today I feel good, I have lost around 13lbs in three weeks and I just ordered a belly dance video. Hoping it helps me get into shape. I am doing pretty good so far.
I have to thank a few friends who offer their support. It has been easier with their help!
So today I will drink this yucky stuff and eat a food bar and dream of the next few pounds to get off.
I fit into a new size jeans!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yea!!!!
It is a good day and yes Virginia there is a Santa Claus…
shia
Dreams of you
I drift off to sleep every night
With dreams of you, holding me tight
While deep in my slumber
I long for you, desire and hunger
If only dreams came true
Then I would be with you
Copyrighted 2008
shia
A moment in Time
A moment in time,
Give me that once more
Something to relive
A precious minute
Where time stood still
And there was no one else
but you
A kiss never forgotten
still wet on my lips
The way it made me feel
Lingering warmth through my body
a longing I could not deny
Just one moment, just one more kiss
a moment in time
Copyrighted 2008
shia
Longing to be dominated
He worked his magic
Tying my hands and ankles
How bound and yet so free
Next a blindold
I was totally helpless, the way he wanted me to be
a flogger dragged along my skin
a few spanks, to heighten my senses
Have I committed the ultimate sin?
Copyrighted 2008
Desire
My sex is on fire
You’re the one I desire
Leave me alone and I will die
Bound to you, my hands are tied
forgive my urgency
I don’t wish to be set free
Under your command
and what you demand
I desire, my sex is on fire
Copyrighted 2008
Dirty Little Girl
My mind is in the gutter,
everything I think, I dare not utter
Dirty little girl, with the dirty little mind
What kind of punishment will she find?
Punish me, the dirty little girl,
wearing nothing but panties and a frill
Say nothing but keep your mind
in the secret little place that you can find
Rough sex can be fun
Dirty little girl, no where to run
You’re horny all the time
Not a bad thing, just fine
But your mind is in the gutter
Your tummy in a flutter
Dirty little girl
give that mind a little twirl
Copyrighted 2008
Where are the real men? Stand up and be counted!
I think that fixin your own car, building your own barn, drinking a beer or two and taking a woman roughly should be counted in that count!
Don’t get me wrong, I like to see a man in an expensive suit and tie, but give me the smell of leather any day.
I don’t want to go to the same beauty shop and sit next to him. Hey, maybe he has long hair and has me trim it for him?
I know cigarettes are nasty, but, men sometimes look sexy with a dangling one from their lips.
I love jeans on men, the real tight ones I don’t like. I love flannel
I love a man that rides a motorcycle. Scarry and exciting at the same time.
I don’t like to see a man do dishes if he has a woman to do them.
Oh these are sexist aren’t they.. But I love a man, to be a man. Not hide who he is on the inside, raw , dirty, and sexy.
Sure, lovemaking can be nice and soft, but give me rough and ready any time. Then a kiss like it will be the last one I will ever have. Crushing.
Oh well, as you can tell, I was thinking of a dominant, and rustic man today. I have more I can add, but I am afraid my female readers will get their panties in a bunch.
Inside every woman is a slut trying to come out. Get out of the closet and treat your man right!
Even though I wrote this, I am not responsible for the words or the affect it has on anyone reading it.
shia
Toad
Shame on you for letting this go for so long
I don’t have any respect for you, an ounce of nothing left
I see you as a brother, to me it’s just so wrong
You played your cards and bluffed
Now it’s too late to take it back
There is nothing left of this relationship
No way can we get on a better track
You have to admit when it’s over
I have come to the end of that road
So forgive me now, but I am through
I want to kiss another toad.
Copyrighted 2008
Something New
I wonder when my day will come.
I have not been as lucky as some
Don’t get me wrong, I have things to be thankful for
But lucky in love, I want more
They say good things come to those that wait
I think I got on the train that was late
I want to be happy and lusty
though I add, I am a tad rusty
I wonder if anyone would want me
I’m not getting any younger, you see
I want passion and lust in my life
Tired of being an unhappy wife
I beg for something new
Could it be you?
Copyrighted 2008
Ho Ho Holidays
Did I say “ho?”
The prostitute is ringing her bell, wanting mo mo mo
She lives for the money
giving up all her honey
Oh the holidays bring lots of tips
Some, just for wiggling her hips
Ho ho ho, happy holidays she sings
Doesn’t matter which way you swing
For the holiday ho
has something to show
Now don’t forget New years eve
Not a customer will she leave
She wants the bling, and the cash
Shys away from anyone with a rash
So here is to the ho,
On christmas and new years she will go
Looking for all the cash she can carry
Ho ho ho, it will be so merry
Copyrighted 2008
All I want for Christmas
1) A new life, not much to ask for.
2) A new car, mine makes a loud roar
3) A man, if you can
4) Don’t think number 3 is too much to demand
5) He must be dominant, if you please
6)What a great gift, I would love to tease
7) A new home, just for me
Lyposuction, so beautiful, I can be
9) Long flowing hair
10) A case of nair
11) That is all I can think of for now, hopefully I can add to this list Santa dear.
Oh and don’t forget a fountain of youth mirror
shia
Copyrighted 2008
Under the weather
I don’t know where that term came from, however, I am under it today. I have a bad chest cold and it hurts when I swallow, The coughing is aggravating.
I had to cancel art class because not that I am too sick to go. The lady’s house I take art class at, her husband is on oxygen and has only 40% lung function. I don’t want to give him the cold. I am disappointed because I missed last weeks class because of weather.
I thought I would have finished my new project for Christmas, I guess not.
I am also down in the dumps today. Thinking about my current situation, which makes me even sicker. I guess being under the weather can do that to you. How can you be under the weather?
How can you be in a relationship and still be lonely? I have been that way for some time now. Why am I telling you? I don’t know because I think I find it cathartic to write about. It helps me sort out things in my head.
Is it better to be with someone, than not be with anyone? Hell no.
I would take being by myself anytime. I think the lonliness is worse.
Anyway, as you can tell, I am under the weather. It is raining here for two days. I guess I am under it’s drops without an umbrella.
I hope Christmas comes and goes fast, I think I will be under the weather then too.
shia
Feel you
Hold me, until I die in your arms
This is the place I want to be
So comforting, so protective
Arms so strong, sheltering me
Give me your love, all of it
I need to feel you inside
Longing, belly aching
all your demands, I will abide
Give to me your sweet seed
fill me to the brim
All my love I will give
to you, in all ways
I want to live.
The meaning of Christmas?
Ho Ho Ho, Merry Christmas
With all the consumerism going on now, I think people have forgotten what some of the meaning of Christmas truly is.
I was thinking about this, because this year it is going to be a much more Homey Christmas than anything. Money is tight and I refuse to go into debt to buy things. I can’t do it anyway.
I am not giving as much as I have in the past years, but people have to understand the economy is bad. It has hit some families harder than others.
I watched the millionaire program last night and though it makes me feel good, I have to watch how others have airplanes, helicopters, maids and nannies. I am lucky I know what to feed my family for the week. There are two sides of that show. The very rich and the very poor. I am unsure I really like it yet.
I think, if they need to be shown how to give away some of their money on TV, they are not that generous in their real life. How about a family member who might not be as fortunate? I wonder if they help them? Or even a local charity, have they helped them out. Is it just because they are on TV they can be so generous now?
I have mixed emotions about the show. I think it serves their own ego somehow.
Oh well I digress. I think what made me think of this was that I sent a card to someone special, it took days to get there. All I could think about was how good it made me feel , to send that card. I couldn’t wait for them to get it. It was just a silly, Christmas card. But it meant a lot to me. I know the person receiving it was just as happy/ It is like giving a piece of yourself to someone. They can tell a little more about you with that card. Your handwriting, your being considerate sending it and giving.
Giving, is the real meaning of Christmas. Not going into debt trying to top the last Christmas or give the biggest , best gift. What I am saying is, that it can be as simple as a card, that brings two people joy. At least that is what I found out.
shia
Betrayal
Why do you betray me, mirror of mine?
It is not me whom I see.
Rather a shell of someone, long ago
Now, I see someone I don’t even know
My voice is not the same
The figure is full of shame
I don’t want to feel this way
There is nothing anyone can say
I have missed out so much in life
The burden much to heavy and full of strife
I can’s see who I am anymore
This mirror might as well be a door
A door, never to open to plainly see
What and who I used to be.
shia
Copyrighted 2008
New Years Resolution
God they are tough to keep aren’t they? They are easy to think up and you already know what you have to work on. But, boy they can just about kill you to get started and stay on track.
I have been giving some thought to my New Year, and with the help of a friend have come up with some things to work on.
God knows, I have a ton of things I can improve upon. I think I have to start taking my resolutions seriously. The need to know that I have to follow through, not half ass them.
I want to be a better friend this coming year.
I want to treat myself better, taking care of my mental health and physical health.
I want to give some time to something, a charity, a shelter, I think that will make me appreciate things I do have.
I am going to add to this list between now and New Years and make some serious life altering changes this coming year.
I want to be able to ask for help, instead of thinking it all rests on my shoulders.
I don’t want to feel sorry for myself, but make myself strong and whole.
I know I have not listed a few things here, but, I know what they are.
I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I want to take steps, even if they are baby steps.
Do you have anything you would like to add, feel free!
shia
Desiderata
Desiderata
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant, they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let not this blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore, be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams; it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
— Max Ehrmann, 1927
I have been reminded by a friend of this and would like to post it to the front page. I think it means a lot. Even more this time of the year.
Friend, you know who you are. I love you.
shia
The Kiss
It’s Christmas Eve, and I long for something I can’t have. It doesn’t cost money. I don’t expect an expensive gift for Christmas, nor do I want one.
I wish for something more than material objects. Something given from the heart.
Warm arms around me, someone telling me they care. I admit I am lonely and thoughtfully have fantasies of other things.
Where would we be without dreams and fantasies? They give us hope and excitement. We would be dead for sure without them.
I am not dead yet.
I wish, this Christmas for a long, deep, sexy , wet kiss. I know it won’t be from Santa this year. But, maybe next year, that is if I am a good girl.
Well, that is all I want for Christmas, and I won’t find it in a stocking or anywhere else this year. But, I have my dreams.
shia
What does it mean to be Gorean?
I know you are out there. You search the word Gorean. However, I can’t get anyone to tell me what they think it means to be Gorean.
Have you read the books? What do they mean to you?
What does it mean to have a slave, or to a slave, what is a
slave heart?
How do you follow the books, what is the most important in life to you?
I have questions, Goreans… Come on please answer a thoughtful and curious girl.
shia
The Meaning of Christmas
Snowflakes melting on tree limbs
The moons light, dancing off of crisp snow
Crunching footsteps on front porches
Carols sung to surprised onlookers
Christmas trees glow in the windows
lights twinkling on and off
It’s Christmas across the world
Time to reflect and give love
Making memories and remembering
Cheerful and sad moments brought together
Preparing to bring the New Year in
With, conversations of the old
Little hands offer large gifts
With smiles all a glow
Homemade cookies and candy
Bring family together on this day
A moment in wishful thinking
Not neglecting the true meaning
Of Christmas and His birth
The real giving of a gift
On this day remember
The babe wrapped in a blanket
One, who would offer love
Everyday, to everyone
shia
Copyrighted 2008
Submissive and Dominant Nature
There was a question raised on another board, wondering if Submission is a learned behavior or was one born with the nature.
For me, I believe one is born with the nature, although it can be nurtured.
There are men who are born to be dominant, and those that are not.
If it is not in your nature, it can not be forced or taught. Although, this is my opinion.
I am submissive by nature. Though, through my childhood I was raised to be that way too. I suppose there will be many who disagree with my theory.
I was raised that women did all the housework, dishes and laundry and the men did the more physical work.
Somehow, I see submitting to men, the correct way to behave. In todays world this is not the case. Women see themselves as equal to men. They are always striving to compete and show that they are their equals. To me, this seems unnatural. To some, this is important.
I want to submit to a man, to me that would be a natural thing to do. I don’t like weak men. I need a dominant man in my life.
This is how I was raised and nurtured. I believe that I am the weaker of the sex. Physically. I want a man to be dominant in his life. to lead. To take things and be a warrior when he must. I don’t want to fight his battles or direct him in the way to go. He must take control. I believe that is the natural order of things.
The Vow
Under a persimmon tree
He fell to one knee
Professing his love
To his beautiful dove
With ring in hand
He told of his demand
She said go to hell
WIth a whine and a yell
His manhood did shrink
Causing her to rethink
That something was better
And she couldn’t be wetter
Now that he took a stand
Life didn’t seem so bland
Copyrighted 2008
Is violence a learned behavior?
I wrote this awhile ago for another story board. I thought I would post it here.
Is violence a learned behavior?
I have some different views on both sides of the fence. When I was younger I worked two years for the Youth Commission and was a child worker for children age eleven to seventeen. Low pay and high stress is what I can tell you about the job. Some of the kids were from broken homes where drugs and alcohol were issues, and domestic violence. Kids were abused physically and sexually. When I would read a new kids report, I was so naive, I could not believe some of the things kids saw, that I would never witness in my entire life. We had a lockup room in our cottage where kids would get violent, act out and would be restrained and tossed in the room so they could not harm themselves or anyone else. We would try everything possible before the actual physical part would take place. But it was still violent to me. They would be allowed visits from their parents on Sundays, most kids were excited, get dressed up and wait at a window on the couch until visiting hours were over and no one showed. We would have trouble on Sunday nights.
There were also parents who had the picture perfect home, dog and kids, who had one child who was just violent. Hitting, bullying and some would even set fires. People were afraid in their own homes. Did these people teach their child the behavior? Maybe by giving in to every whim, or pacifying them, not allowing any rules. Or just being afraid of them. But why only one and not the others?
I believe TV, Movies, Internet, and violent video games have become baby-sitters and parents do not realize what their little ones are really doing. Music for teens sends violent messages, Remember the song “Cop Killer?” I know it was banned. However, not every kid who listens to music with violent lyrics is going to become violent.
Environment, meaning the community they grow up in plays a large part of what happens to them also. If they live in a violent part of town, that too can contribute to their behavior and we all know listening and following what are peers say and do, is more important than what are parents tell us to do.
It is time parents put the children first, not their own good times. Get out and work hard, teach them this is how they will have to survive, not selling drugs on street corners. Have some kind of faith; something is greater than we are. Teach them that $150.00 shoes won’t last much longer than the $30.00 ones and who cares what you walk in mud with.
I believe it is a learned behavior, even though I still can’t figure out the one bad apple in a family. I believe it’s the community, the lost children on the streets, the parents who provide the role modeling and the teachers who just gave up teaching.
I believe it’s our churches that have let people down by not being a safe place to go to anymore, for they have lost our trust and respect also ((some, not all )).
I believe it’s the fast easy money we give our children that teaches them they don’t have to break a sweat to earn a dollar. Selling drugs is easy and fast money. After all do we not say it takes a village to raise a child? What happened to good neighbors, healthy parenting and children who played kick the can.
Violence is a learned behavior, and it starts at home.
shia
Resolutions
ugh.. I have made them and I swear I am not going to break them this year. All the usual that almost everyone makes, lose weight be a better person. Yada yada yada!
There are people I want to see, things I want to do and I want to become a better person this year. I quit smoking five years ago after many years of the habit. I think that is really a good
accomplishment. That was a New Years resolution, so I can keep them.
This year, I am hoping it is not so depressing. I think last year was a depressing year. At least for me it was. I am not going to wallow in self pity or cry for the things I don’t have. I am never going to be rich. But I would like to be comfortable and not have to worrry about every pennny. I know the economy is bad and there are people who are worse off then me. So, I am thankful for what I do have. I have good health and that is a good thing.
I want a better life and I guess the only one who can do that is me. So, I am going to try for things I need and want this year.
I am counting on my fortitude and desire to reach my goals. I have other friends who have made such wonderful resolutions. I am sure they will meet them also.
I have to get things in a row, clean out old stuff that I don’t want anymore. I have been hanging on to things that I should get rid of. I thought about having a garage sale and donating the money.
I want to draw better, read more. Become more informed and keep my body and mind active.
I want to be a better friend and person.
I am going to start my Christmas shopping for next year early instead of waiting last minute, like usual.
I am going to listen better to others.
I am not going to sweat the small stuff anymore.
Well, I could list a whole lot of other things, but this is enough for me to work on for now.
If you would like to add yours to this blog, feel free. I would be interested in hearing others.
shia
Mother Nature and the Amish
It was frozen rain today. On top of the layer of snow that covered the ground it looked like clear crystal beads. Shimmering with the sun that tried to come out. It was beautiful. I watched from the picture window because it was too cold to go outside. I am amazed with mother nature.
I can see rabbit and cat tracks in the crisp snow. I leave lettuce and veggies and fruit out for the rabbits and some dry cat food for the feral cats. I wonder how they keep warm in this weather? I feel sorry for the birds and put bacon grease out on the bark of the tree. They seem to love it. I really don’t see too many squirrels where I live. Maybe they smell the dogs and just don’t come around.
I saw a female cardinal in a shrub today, she looked lost without her mate and I didn’t realize they stay here and weather out the winter also.
I have seen ground hogs and possum in the evenings and the raccoons are always scavenging. Mother nature is at her best in the winter, as little animals struggle to survive. They do well with a little help from us.
The farm next door has around 75 heads of cattle. They are outside rain or snow. They seem to do ok, I just wonder how they ever get dry from all the mud they stand in. I guess they do ok. I watch them as they try to find something green to graze upon. They really don’t have too much luck in winter.
When I wake up in the morning, I see smoke coming from all the farmers chimneys. Ours too! If I get up in the middle of the night I add a new log to the mellow fire to keep it going through the night and making it warm in the house when we all get up.
I think of the Amish, who do not live far from me. I did live on a street with all Amish for two years. They called me the Yankee lady down the road. I was proud of that, they at least knew who I was. I offered the Amish across the street, Sarah and Moses , 23 chickens we did not want to weather over winter. The Amish feel they have to give you something back, if you give them something. So, within about a week, they came to me with a margarine bowl full of Chicken bologna. The dogs loved it. I just could not get myself to eat it.
I would like to tell you a funny story about once a chicken had got caught under a pile of wood and I panicked. I couldn’t free it and I was actually afraid of it. So, I went to the Amish across the street and asked if they could help. They sent a five year old girl to get the chicken. She bent over and gave it a yank and freed it. Looking up at me like I was a dummy. I was mortified. lol
I learned a lot living among the amish. I watched how they farmed and all those that didn’t help, did not eat that day. Even a three year old was tending the garden. They live a life with few things, but they put back what they take or use. I think I should paint something with the amish, I have many pictures of memories in my head of them.
They live so humble and without tv, or playstations. No electricity etc. I lived around the strictest of the amish society. I learned a lot from them. Now, if I could only apply what I was taught.
shia
The Amish
Well, someone wanted to know more about the Amish where I lived. I can tell you that across the street where I lived, they had nine children. I would see them walking to the one room school that was on our street, barefooted carrying gray lunchboxes. I always wondered what their mother put in them. I am sure it was something homemade and delicious.
The women and girls were dressed in navy blue dresses, with black aprons and white bonnets. They also wore black stockings and black shoes, when worn.
Once I asked Moses if it bothered him that I wore shorts and sleeveless shirts. He told me, that it was ok if I was on my own property but if I came to his home, I should be covered more. I always respected his wishes.
Yankee kids could stand and wave daily to the amish kids but never were they allowed to play with each other. Moses said it would be too hard to explain things to them. Like toys and dress and different customs we had. It was better to just keep them apart.
The little boys wore navy pants, navy shirts and black suspenders. They all wore the straw hats. Men grew beards when they were married.
On Friday nights, we would hear the boys driving the buggies home late at night after visiting their friends. They would drink and some would be drunk, singing all the way home. They are not as innocent as you would think. We would find their beer bottles in our yard on some weekends.
The amish work hard. They tend animals and gardens. In the winter they collect wood and build things for their home in their barns. I was one of the few who were allowed to infiltrate their world. I shopped at one of the Amish who had a little store down the road. There you could buy spices and things by bulk. I remember they loved sweets, they always had an abundunt of candy to select from. They especially liked the orange slices.
Every home sold something. Bread, Maple syrup, furniture, wood, quilts, eggs. They always made some extra money selling something they made or grew. Once I stopped and bought butter, at one house, bread at another and eggs and maply syrup at another. I came home and made the best french toast their could be!
I loved to sit and watch them, they were so different than us, but in so many ways just like us. On Sundays, they would gather, horse and buggies parked across the street for an all day and evening celebration of their religion. Children barefooted, playing outside while the elders were in the home, praying and fixing food for over 100 people. They would set tables up and have a feast. Everyone of the amish ladies would bring something. I envied the way they all shared with each other. I thought why couldn’t more of us be like them.
I aksed Sarah, if she could make me a quilt and what she would charge. I never did get one made but I have thought about having her still make me one. She would charge me 150.00 a steal for a homemade, handsewn quilt.
I will add more about the amish as I find time to write. I love them, and feel priviliged to have lived among them. They taught me much.
shia
Small Town
I live in a very small town, actually it is called a township. Every Saturday, the amish set up a stand to sell home baked goods and quilts in the small circle of the town. I am going to try and get a picture of that when spring comes. I don’t believe they set up in the winter. I have to double check on that.
Moses, who did live across the street from me, was cutting meat with a meat slicer and cut off two of his fingers on his right hand. He is right handed. Sarah was worried that he would not be able to do his chores well enough because of the missing fingers. He was very nonchalante about his accident. I couldn’t believe it.
I am not sure if they have arranged marriages but their oldest daughter was married when she was around 18 or 19. She now has 13 children. You wonder how they do it. Don’t get me wrong, they can have temper tantrums too, I have seen an amish child throw a good one.
I find their homes interesting. I have been inside many of them and they all are similar. Furniture made out of wood, cabinets wooden. They have what they call a harvest table in the kitchen. It is very long and wide. Enough for everyone to sit at for a meal and to do baking and sewing on too. All the chairs are beautifully crafted.
The inside kitchen has a large wood burning stove which there is always something on simmering, even if it is just a pot of water to add moisture to the air. The sitting room has candle or gas lamps in the corners and their is always a big rocker in the room.
The home smells of freshly baked bread and goodies. It is very warm and comforting in their home. I couldn’t help to let my eyes quickly wander over everything, taking it all in.
Their curtains are hung by a rope, no wooden or plastic rods to hang them. Usually they are stark white. The amish do get their whites really white by bleaching them in the sun.
Once, one of their 400 lb pig got loose and we all chased it around trying to get it into the pen. I was muddy and so was everyone else. But I had to laugh, it was great fun.
They don’t use any dusting powder to keep of beetles and bugs off of their gardens. They take a jar of water and hand pick the beatles off and drop them in the jar. So, when you eat something from their garden it is truly organic.
I have fun writing about them and the memories they gave me. I hope you enjoy reading it.
shia
Limerick
There once was a man whom she called master
He tried to have sex, she yelled faster
He went so fast, he split her in two
Now there would be three to pay when the rent is due
shia
copyrighted 2009
Dick Trick limerick
There once was a man named Guy
Who walked around with an open fly
To the amazement of all
He would often fall
Using his dick as a stick
It was a hell of a magic trick
shia
copyrighted 2008
Friends
I am trying to have a better outlook on life this year. I am tired of being depressed by things that are in my control. I choose not to do anything about them. This year, I am going to do a complete overhaul.
I am thankful I have made some new friends in 2008. They help me more than they realize. It is also a good feeling to have people to talk to. It has been years since I have opened up to people. It feels good.
I want to concentrate on reading more, drawing more and writing more! Also, working on making a better me. Friends are helping.
Ok, so I tried writing and screwed up on the limerick. But, I am still going to try. How else can one get better if they don’t even try?
I wanted to thank all my new friends this year and I hope we can stay in contact and support each other. I am looking forward to it.
Because of all of you, I know there is going to be a better me.
Thanks and you all know who you are.
love
shia
Fall not on You.tube
Well, thank god no one had a camera or witnessed my very unlady-like fall. This morning, I went into my bathroom where we lifted the carpet and to eventually add new carpeting. The nail board is still around the wall and tub. You guessed it! I stepped on it and fell head first into the tub. I know what a weeble feels like. It is a good thing I am limber. With robe and all, into the tub. My toe was bleeding and I have no idea if I need a tetnas shot but boy am I lucky.
So there is how my morning started, how was yours?
shia
Chapter 1 The Move
The farm
I will be writing a story and posting it here by Chapters
Chapter 1
The Move
Len and I lived in a small city. We bought our first home on a quiet street. I fell in love with the cape cod bungalow with the red awnings and red door. It was so cute. We invested a lot of time and energy into fixing up the yard. Planting flowers and adding shrubs to both the back yard and front yard. It looked like home.
Len’s grandmother owned a farm about an hour away from us. Oma, that is what we all called her, got sick with cancer of the thyroid and was unable to take care of herself and the farm. Len’s parents asked if we wanted to sell our home and move out there, eventually build somewhere on the 120 acre farm and take care of it. We were excited. We talked it over with the kids, who were still young but old enough to know that moving meant new schools and new friends. They loved it out on the farm and happily agreed. Knowing they would have animals out there to take care of.
I told my dad and he said get it in writing before you sell your house and move out there. But, I trusted my in-laws and didn’t hesitate putting our house up for sale. Surprisingly, the first people who came to see it put an offer on it and we accepted. They didn’t even squabble about the price. They loved it as much as we did!
Within two months everything was final and we were packed and ready to go. Michael and Maureen were excited also. They were already picking out animals to have on the farm. I just kept quiet, I figured there would be enough time to talk about what to take care of once we were out there.
What I have failed to mention is that the whole street the farm was on, lived Amish. It was a cinder road with horse and buggies going up it all day and evening. It was like taking a step back into time.
The house was a very old colonial, a century home that needed and extreme amount of work. It had a small septic tank and well water. Things we were not used to. However, we grew accustomed to a lot of things in a hurry.
Oma who was staying with my in-laws passed away. Leaving the farm to her daughter, my husbands mother. She claimed nothing would change and in a year or so, we could build a home out on 10 acres of land. Oma would have been happy if we moved out there when she lived there, she would always ask us to.
So, we moved in. Across the street from us was a plain little white bungalow. Sara and Moses had about 30 acres of land and farmed most of it. There was just enough space left over for the Amish children to play their hide and seek games!
Sara and Moses had cows, goats, pigs, chickens, ducks and horses. It was fun to watch the animals and the little ones taking care of them. Often a pig would break out of its pen and we would all run and chase it back in. These pigs were not little pigs, they were around 400lbs. It was fun and a part of life we began to enjoy.
On the property there was a beautiful willow tree near a man made 3 acre lake. Every morning I would walk our Lab down to the lake and sit under the willow. Its long branches sheltered me from view and the wind would blow them just lightly enough that they would brush against my arms. I could hear the small Amish children singing songs and their voices carried across the wind like a leaf drifting from a tree branch.
It was summer and everything was growing. The corn across the street must have been 5 foot high if not more. The Amish children would run through it, hiding and screaming for someone to find them. I could spend hours watching them. Sara hung white sheets on her clothesline. They were ultra white and the wind snapped them as they dried. One little girl dressed in her cute blue dress and black apron pulled a little wooden wagon and sung softly to herself. They have very little toys , but what they had made them happy.
Michael and Maureen would stand at the end of the dirt driveway and wave to the Amish children, there were nine of them. The children were all ages starting from around 13 and Sara was pregnant again.
The Amish were strong willed people. They had to follow rules of the Ordnung, this outlined the Amish faith and set down rules for them to follow.
Moses explained to me that they did not baptize their babies, that was for the older children to do when they became of age and chose to be Amish for sure. Then, they would be baptized. When children became of age they would do what the Amish called Rumspringa, they could choose to leave the Amish and live for awhile among the rest of society to see if they wanted to be baptized into the Amish faith. If they did not choose to be baptized they would have to leave the Amish and their families. Never to return or see them again.
shia
Copyrighted 2009
Chapter 2 The Meeting
Sara's Laundry
I have written Chapter 2 this morning and decided to post it. I hope someone is enjoying this!
Chapter 2
The Meeting
We didn’t meet the Amish across the street until we had been living at the farm house for a couple of weeks. They were friendly and waved when they saw us outside. The woman and the girls all wore blue dresses with black aprons and white caps on their heads. Black tights and black shoes, when not barefoot. The men and boys wore a deep navy shirt and pants , black suspenders and a straw hat.
Everyday I would watch the Amish buggies go up and down the cinder road. I always wondered where they were going and how far they could actually travel in the traffic of modern day cars. The metal wheels would spit up a stone every now and then. Luckily they would miss you if you were standing too close to the street. The horses were actually beautiful. Some were bought from race track owners who no longer raced or wanted the horse. The Amish would buy these because they would be used to pulling a cart. Often they would get them fairly cheap.
Len and I were busy each evening going over plans for different houses. We would weather out the coming winter and start building in the spring. So many homes were too expensive for us to build, that we had seriously thought about building a log cabin. We were living on 120 acres, 60 of it was wooded.
My in-laws would come out every Sunday. They would buy their eggs from Sara across the street. Usually, they would buy about 8 dozen and sell them to their neighbors. Everyone loved the fresh brown eggs. I showed my mother –in-law the plans of the log cabin, she thought it was a nice home and it would fit perfectly into the Amish neighborhood.
My father-in-law made a huge garden at the farm each year. There were bumper crops of tomatoes, potatoes and beans each year. This year was no exception. He worked hard for his age and I would worry about him, because he had heart problems. It seemed like the gardening did him well and he looked good.
Finally, I asked my mother-in-law whose name is Shirley to introduce me to Sara and Moses. She agreed and we headed across the street. Me clad in my shorts and tank top, not thinking anything of it.
Sara greeted us with a smile. She was plump and her apron looked too tight around her waist and it crumpled in the front. There were a few white flour stains on it. I figured she had made bread in the morning. She had a rosy face and I was surprised that she was fair skinned, after working hard in the garden and sun all day. She seemed pleasant and interested in knowing my name and who I was.
Shirley introduced us quickly and pointing her crooked finger at me.
“Sara, this is Cathy, she will be living in Oma’s house with her husband Len and children, Michael and Maureen.”
Sara smiled and gave a half of a wave and with her accent said;
“Ya, I was wondering who you all were.” She giggled and dropped her eyes, her face blushed even more. By this time her children, the little ones were running around her, trying to be noticed and also wondered who this strange lady was. The older children stood on the front porch, watching but I could see they too were interested in my story.
Shirley asked for eggs and motioned for the children to get them for her. Off they ran, barefooted and happy to help.
We stood quiet for a moment and I who was the nervous one asked how Sara’s garden was doing. She remarked that they had a lot of tomatoes and were making a sauce and cooking it down with peppers and onions to can. In the heat, I wondered how hot their kitchen got, using the wooden stove. I noticed that Sara was pregnant again and I asked her when she was due. She replied that it would be sometime in January when the weather was cold. She would have the baby at home like all the rest with the help of other Amish women.
By this time, her husband came from a barn, wood chips all over his pants and shirt. He had a brown beard but no moustache. I was later told by Shirley that men grew beards when they were married but no moustaches were allowed.
Shirley took the eggs from the children and handed me a few cartons to hold also. I learned Moses was his name. Sara told me that each child had a middle name that began with the letter M, this was out of respect for the father.
They told me they were a form of the strictest Amish in Ohio. They didn’t own any farming equipment or had electricity. Of course no cars, and they were forbidden to even ride in one. They used candles and some kerosene for their lamps but that was basically about as modern as they got.
Shirley smiled and told Sara that we were going. I smiled at Moses and Sara and told them if there was anything I could help them with, that they should not hesitate to walk over and give me a holler. They both smiled and told me the same thing. We left and I was so happy to have been that close and honored to have talked with them. They truly were average people doing the same as us. Raising a family, tending a garden and trying to live their lives the best way they knew how.
Shirley and Ken, my father-in-law left and Len, the kids and I took a walk down to the lake. We saw a red fox, a beaver and a snapping turtle. All within minutes of our walk, it was fascinating to watch this from your own yard. Well not ours, but a part of it would be soon.
Copyrighted 2009
Chapter 3 — Jacob
Jacob working
Chapter 3
I mind my business most of the times. Just looking across the street and waving to the Amish family. However, when in the house I watch them from my living room chair. They are so busy all the time. No wonder they don’t need television. They probably go straight to bed after dinner.
I found out that children only go to school until the eighth grade. When completed they work on the farm. They learn only English, math and history in school. There is no science or any other extra subjects. Just the basics.
I found out I had a neighbor named Jacob who lives alone. He is a young Amish man around 30. His wife and children were killed in a buggy accident the year before. I felt so bad for him and the family he lost. I could barely see him from my farm house. Once in awhile I could catch a glimpse of him working in his garden and tending cows. He raises cattle and is busy all the time. I thought about him often, alone.
In many ways I was alone too. My husband was cold and kept to himself. He only talked about work and after awhile that got boring to me. I had much to do, keeping the farm and garden. Tending to chickens, a goose and some ducks. We also had a small bull that is mean and seems to hate me. We call him bully. He is one.
I often found myself thinking of Jacob alone. One day while making strawberry jam, I thought I would bring some to him. Dressed in my shorts and tank top I went to bring him some. I could see him as I walked, tending his garden. I don’t know why but I was nervous about meeting him. I think I had begun to have fantasies about him. What he was like, what he did alone on that large farm. Why there wasn’t other women, Amish women after him. Maybe he was in a mourning period.
I approached his dirt driveway, it was hot and some of the dust stuck to my legs. I was moist from sweat and I couldn’t tell if that was just the dirt and wind or I was nervous.
Jacob didn’t look up right away, I knew his name from Sara but I was not going to act like I knew anything about him or his loss.
I smiled nervously and managed a hello, not wanting to startle him. His straw hat moved a little when he picked up his head, I saw a smile right away. I moved closer and saw his crystal blue eyes. He still had his beard.
“Hi!, my name is Cathy and I am your new neighbor on the next farm. I wanted to bring the Jam I made this morning and meet you”
Jacob offered a warm smile and laid down his spade.
“Aye, I knew who you were, I have seen you working in your garden when I go by. Nice to meet you Cathy. My name is Jacob. Jacob Weaver.” He was still smiling although I did see his eyes lower and glance over my attire. Suddenly, I felt naked.
We talked a little about the farm and how Oma suffered in her last few days of life. Jacob told me he would often stop to see if Oma was ok, since she was in her 80’s and living alone. Of course we visited on the weekends, but it was nice to know Jacob would stop to see if she needed anything.
We chatted for a few minutes and I handed him the jam. He smiled again, a broad smile this time and thanked me. As I was saying my good bye’s Jacob told me if I ever needed anything not to hesitate to come over and ask. He also said he would stop by now and then. He thanked me again and I began my walk back down the cinder road to Oma’s farm.
I thought about him as I walked. He was handsome, although I didn’t care about the beard too much. But it was their custom so that is what he had to do. However, I wondered if he no longer had a wife if he could shave it. His eyes were warm and he sincerely meant about stopping by and checking on me. I thought that was really nice of him.
Walking up my drive I was met by hungry kids and a barking lab. Back to reality in a hurry!
I wondered how long it would take for Jacob to stop and see me as I made the kids toasted cheese sandwiches. I hummed a little and looked out the window at the small Amish children playing near the street. This always worried me because cars also traveled this road and I always feared the little ones would take a step too far into the street and get hurt.
After feeding the kids and cleaning up the mess, I went back outside to work in my garden. It was a job that was never ending. Weeds grew faster than any of the vegetables, except for lettuce, it was always sprouting new leaves and it was fresh and delicious anytime of the day.
I glanced down by Jacobs farm and noticed he was not working in the garden, or at least I couldn’t see him. I wondered if he was dating any of the Amish women nearby. I found myself a little jealous, but I didn’t know why.
Copyrighted 2009
Chapter 4 — The puppy
Chapter 4 – The puppy
It seemed like people would drive by and leave animals for farmers, they didn’t want. Someone had dropped off a puppy who was part black lab and collie. He was mean for a puppy. Growling and snapping. We kept him and tried to make him a nice dog. The kids would squeal when the puppy would snap at them and they soon became afraid of him.
I was working in the garden and Sara from across the street came over. In her hands a freshly baked loaf of bread. She was chubby and her face always had a rosy color . She was smiling and one of the youngest children tugged at her apron. I think she was scared to come over to our farm. Sara handed me the bread and I invited her inside for a cool glass of lemonade. Her and the little one followed me into the house and both sat at the table. I asked Sara if it was ok to give the little girl a sucker and she nodded that indeed it was ok. They loved anything sweet.
I was curious about Jacob but didn’t know how to start a conversation with Sara about him. I really didn’t know her to well yet.
Sara smiled and sipped the lemonade and then I asked her a rather innocent question.
“Sara, what happened to Jacobs family and when was the accident” Sara listened and put down her glass and shook her head sadly.
“It happened on old route 224. Two drunk youngens were driving too fast and hit the buggy that Elisa was in. She had two of their children with them. All were killed instantly in the crash.”
It seemed like Sara liked to talk and I was happy, I missed talking to another woman. Even though I would have to be respectful and watch what I asked.
“That is just horrible.” I shook my own head and put my hands to my cheeks. I really did feel awful, how sad it must be for Jacob.
“Old Jacob was very lost those days after the accident. He did not want to come out of his house or talk to anyone. It is rare for an Amish to do that. Usually, they want the comfort of their friends and family.” Sara said as she took another sip of her lemonade. The little one fidgeted in her chair and licked the sucker I gave her. Oblivious to our talk.
Now I had many questions about Jacob, but I knew I had to watch myself. I didn’t want to seem to interested in him or to nosy.
“You English are safe in your cars, but when we Amish travel in our buggies it is scary. People come up on us fast and slam on their brakes. I have been frightened more than a few times.” She nodded her head and she appeared visually shaken.
“We try not to be out late at night, but sometimes there is a need.” I nodded listening to Sara and smiled kindly and I understood her fear. Just driving a car can be scary, I could imagine what it would be like in a buggy with horses. There is no steel to protect the precious cargo they carried.
Sara smiled and stood, stating Moses would be upset with her if she spent too much time away from the garden. I smiled and stood with her and walked both her and the little girl who was barefoot out the door and into the driveway. There we said our goodbyes and I thanked her for the wonderful looking bread.
I was distracted and couldn’t think of what to do next. I trimmed some of Oma’s rose bushes. I had never seen such roses and the fragrance was absolutely hypnotic. They must have been heirlooms. I know they brought some green bean seeds from Yugoslavia and they were the best green bean you would ever want to taste. Not stringy but tender and sweet. I collected some of the rose petals to bring them in and make a sachet for my nightgown drawer. Their scent was lovely.
I brought them into the house and remembered I wanted to move our van. I grabbed my keys humming and jumped in. I started it as usual and backed up and felt the van lift slightly under a back tire on the drivers side and I thought I heard a scream. I jumped out panicky and there under the tire was the little black puppy. He was not moving and was still under the tire. I screamed and jumped back into the van to move it up off the puppy and jumped out again. The puppy was dead and all I could do was scream, standing there and crying. The kids ran out to see what was happening and they too started crying. I could not get myself to pick the puppy up. I just stood there screaming and crying.
Suddenly I heard a buggy pull into the driveway the cinders crunched under the metal wheels. It was Jacob. He jumped out of the buggy and ran towards us.
“What , what has happened?” He called out.
I pointed to the dead puppy and he just shook his head and bent down picking up the puppy and asking Michael to get a shovel.
He buried it for us and we were all still crying.
“Cathy, I am sorry this happened, it is a sad part of living.” Jacob said thoughtfully.
“Thank you Jacob for helping us. I just could not believe I ran over the puppy”
Jacob smiled and touched my arm in sympathy. I felt embarrassed because he lost a whole family and here I was crying and screaming over a puppy.
“It was kind of you to stop and help, I really don’t know what I would have done” I said quietly, eyes lowered to the spot where he had buried the puppy.
He offered a kind smile and said he must go. We all watched him leave in the buggy and waved good bye to him. I don’t know but I think he must have heard me screaming to have known to come down. Voices carry in the open and that was all I could think about. The puppy and what I had just done. The kids and I went into the house and I went straight to the couch to lay down. Still sobbing softly to myself.
Copyrighted 2009
Chapter 5 The garden
The Garden
Chapter 5
The day before, Len brought the kid’s home a huge truck inner tube and threw it into the lake. Friends they met down the road came over and I had fun watching them on the big circular floatation. I sat under the weeping willow tree where I felt so sheltered. This tree would become to mean a lot to me. There was a little bench hand made by Ken, Len’s dad and it was so cool and I felt protected under the sweeping branches.
The kids voices echoed and the laughter was catching. I laughed sitting there watching them as they grabbed onto the tube and jumped off of it. I was a little worried because there was snapping turtles in the lake, so far no one complained of getting bitten.
I watched the cows from the farm next door. Shirley and Ken rented out some land to a farmer . They were not milk cows but some their kids entered into fairs and sold at a great profits. It was the good life, it was like living in a Norman Rockwell painting. I had it good, though it was hard work, we had fun too.
Every morning I had to let the chickens out of their little chicken house and the rooster would run after me. With wings spread and his head held high he would try to attack me. Oh, I hated him. I thought as I watched the kids swim that if there was a way I could get rid of that rooster I would.
We also had a goose named buddy, he was a friendly goose, unless you were carrying a bucket. If he saw the bucket he would run after you and attack the bucket. I could not figure out this behavior at all. I would drop the bucket and run! He didn’t chase me, he only wanted the bucket. Buddy had a friend, a white duck who limped from a raccoon attack or fox. They were inseparable. Everyday they would waddle down the path to the lake and every evening just around dusk, like clock work they would make their way back up to the barn. There were three barns and a silo on the property. Plus, a hen house and pig pen. We had so many buildings it was hard to keep track of everyone and everything!
The kids were coming from the lake, hungry and laughing. I got up from the little bench and tossed them towels. They had a good time and I knew they would sleep well tonight. Michael who was 12 and Maureen 8 were good kids and had adjusted to farm life well. I was very proud of them, because at times it was not easy. We didn’t have cable TV and the local channels were hard to get in. But they got used to it. They did have a Playstation and spent a lot of time playing games. We also would rent movies on the weekend, it gave us some time to just rest and be together.
Len worked in the big city which was almost an hour drive one way. He didn’t complain about the drive, but I knew he would in the winter. The roads were not kept as clean in the country as in the city and I suspected he would have long nights on the road. They could be dangerous and prove frustrating for him, but we had talked about this before we moved to the farm.
The kids came in the house and I made them French toast out of Sara’s homemade bread. It was delicious. We had our own eggs, from 23 chickens and homemade butter and maple syrup from another Amish family on the street. The kids changed and went into the living room to play games. I went outside to tend to the weeds in the garden. There had been no rain for about a week and everything looked wilted. Even the ground was dry and cracked around some of the plants. We had placed barrels and buckets out near the garden and they collected rain water to water the garden. I used a small coffee can with holes in the bottom to sprinkle the lettuce and all the other plants. The barrels and buckets were low on water, so I prayed for a good rain soon.
I tried to glance over at Jacob’s farm. I couldn’t see him, he could have been in the woods hunting or just not home. I stretched my neck hard enough that I felt like I pulled a muscle. I was wondering to myself what the fascination I had with Jacob and even though my marriage was not the best, he was unlikely a candidate for a lover.
I heard the sound of the buggies coming down the street and as I turned I saw it was Jacob. I almost hated that I turned to look because I was embarrassed but I smiled, standing on my toes waving to him. He waved back and gave a little tilt of his head. He always was smiling, unlike Len who never smiled. He only smiled watching a football or basketball game. That was the only time I knew he had teeth.
As I was tending to the garden Len pulled into the driveway. He drove a small pickup truck and it really came in handy on the farm when hauling wood or just hay for the animals. When Len got out of the truck he waved. Pursing his lips he said quietly ; “ I see you’re working in the garden again. How is everything doing, Cathy?”
“Everything is fine except it needs a good rain to keep everything growing.” I shrugged my shoulders and continued to water. Len went in the house and I could hear the kids laughing and greeting him. There were days I hated him. This was one.
Copyrighted 2009
Chapter 6
Amish Buggy at Home
Chapter 6
Len and I we’re an existing couple. There was nothing left of our relationship. I think we stayed together for appearances and the kids. I wasn’t working and not in the position to pay rent or move out on my own. I can’t say we didn’t love each other. We were not in love with each other. It was a sad situation. There was no intimacy. Not for a long time.
Len bought me a computer before we moved to the farm. I was on it a lot. It was a new toy and it became my favorite place to be. I read more. I visited sites that were full of knowledge. I really enjoyed being on it. I had also made writing buddies who would email me from time to time.
Len became jealous of the time I spent on the computer. Not that it was excessive, but in moderation. He hated that I found joy in something. He resented the time I spent reading. He began holding out on affection and sex. Telling me to go on the computer and read. That was all I wanted or needed.
I tried talking to him. I begged him for us to find something to do together, a hobby or craft. He wanted nothing to do with it. I think it was his excuse to avoid sex and intimacy. Len had a mean streak, I knew this when I married him. I never thought he would turn it on me.
We were married 14 years and five of it so far was sexless. Everyone on the outside thought we had a great marriage. I was completely alone. I withdrew even more and spent more time on the computer taking reality vacations and reading blogs of everyone else’s wonderful life.
I soon began to hate him for what he was doing and what he did to our marriage. I couldn’t change him, he had strong German blood and was completely stubborn on the issue.
I slept on the couch by myself and we barely spoke to each other. Sometimes, my stomach would just turn at the thought that it was almost time for him to come home from work. We didn’t argue or fight, there was nothing more to say. The marriage as far as I was concerned was over.
The only place we went was to my in laws home or they came out to us on Sunday’s. I was lonely and I had no clue what to do about it.
The kids were young, I don’t think they realized anything was wrong. However, they would wonder why I slept on the couch and I just told them that their father snored too loud. They would laugh and nod their heads because they also heard him snore. In reality it was not a lie. He did snore too loud.
I think my fantasies about Jacob grew out of loneliness and wanting. I don’t think I realized what would be involved in having a crush on someone Amish. What struggles there would be on both sides. I was new to the culture and still learning about their religion.
Jacob seemed loving and caring. I think that is what drew me to him. I didn’t care that he was Amish. I was beginning to care for him as a person. I didn’t see him as being Amish.
I spent a lot of time out in the garden. Oma had planted all kinds of beautiful flowers around the yard. When one would die another kind would pop up in its place. There were peonies, tulips, poppies and roses, all kinds, shapes and colors. I loved the flowers, each one of them reminded me of a woman I admired and missed.
Oma was a petite woman, but so mentally and physically strong. She was married during the war and her husband became missing in action in Germany. She never remarried because she did not want a step father for her daughter. She took care of her parents, well into their 80’s, who at time gave her a hard time about food and helping to pay bills on the farm. They sometimes did not speak over money issues. She was generous and a wonderful lady. For me, it was an honor to take care of the farm, she worked so hard to keep. It was her passion and wanted it to stay in the family. She always promised us 10 acres to build on and she wanted us out there with her more than anything. I was completely devastated by her death. So were the children and Len. She was such a strong person, we missed her.
I won’t lie, every time I was outside I looked for a glimpse of Jacob. My thoughts were how to get to know him better. I was so lonely.
I tended the garden. Still there was no rain, so I watered everything the best I could. The rain barrel was low. We really needed the rain. It was wonderful to eat fresh things from the garden. I didn’t use pesticides so you could eat something right from the vine. There were cherry tomatoes, green beans, strawberries and much more. There were also fruit trees, apples, peaches, pears and quince. There were grapes and plums, we had so many plum trees and they had a bumper crop. There would be much plum jam.
I could see Jacob working with his horses, it was far and I had to really look closely. I wanted to make another excuse to go over and talk with him. I was afraid to go, I would need a good reason. I thought about making him something to eat again and taking it over. That was always appreciated I am sure since he lived alone. He was busy all day and probably did not have time to cook. I went into the house to make some egg salad to bring down to him. I thought that would keep well and he would have a few sandwiches from it.
I made the egg salad and began to walk down the road to his farm. Just then Len was turning into the driveway and yelled out the window where I was going. I told him I was bringing a snack to Jacob as a friendly gesture. He nodded and pulled the car around to the garage.
I walked down the cinder road and up Jacob’s driveway. He was still working with the horses and I smiled and called out his name. Just as I called out his name again and he looked, I twisted my ankle on some cinders and went down to the dirt and cinders. I twisted my ankle! Somehow I managed to hold onto the bowl. I started to cry. What an ass I was, what was I thinking?
Jacob ran towards me, calling out my name, he could see I was crying. I wiped my face but only smeared dirt on it. I looked a mess. Jacob knelt down by me and asked me where I hurt. I told him I twisted my ankle. He seemed to look really concerned, I almost had to smile through my tears. He touched my ankle and I shivered.
“We must get you home, will you be able to get into the buggy ok with my help?” He asked warmly.
I nodded. His accent made it difficult to understand him at times. But I had a keen ear and was beginning to understand the dialect.
Jacob hooked up the horses to the buggy and steered the horses close to me. He jumped out of the buggy and took the bowl from me with a smile.
“I don’t want to hurt you, but I am going to try and lift you from under your arms. Then lean your weight on me. We should be able to get to the buggy, I am concerned on you stepping on the step to get into it.” Jacob more spoke to himself than me. I think he was contemplating lifting me, but wanted to see how much I could do on my own first.
I hobbled on one foot holding onto Jacob. I had to confess it felt nice. We got to the buggy and I could not step up to the little step. Without a word or warning, Jacob swooped me up into his arms and placed me on the seat. I was flushed and warm. I didn’t even feel the pain in my ankle. It could have been broke for all I knew, but at that moment I only felt his arms around me.
It was fun riding in the buggy and he called out to the horses and made his way down the road. Dust was flying up into the buggy and I coughed.
The horses found my driveway and he pulled them to a halt. He got out and came to my side and helped me out, practically lifting me out of the buggy. Len came to the door and was watching, he didn’t seem to mind, he had no expression on his face. He opened the door and came out to help.
“Len, I sprained my ankle.”
“That is what you get for wearing those sandals, haven’t I told you to wear a good tennis shoe”? He lectured me and I was embarrassed.
Jacob let go of me so Len could help me into the house, I thanked him again and he thanked me for the bowl of egg salad.
Len helped me into the house and made an ice pack for me to hold on my ankle. I was glad he couldn’t see that behind the pain, there was a little smile that Jacob had touched me.
Copyrighted 2009
Chapter 7 – The skunk
Chapter 7
Amish hats hanging in the hallway
I could not stop thinking about Jacob. I felt how strong he was when he lifted me into the buggy. I smiled to myself every time I thought about it. The kids were playing Nintendo games and I rested on the couch with the ice pack on my ankle. I could watch Sara and Moses farm from across the street, and watch the children playing. They all looked so peaceful and everyone knew what their job was. I spoiled my kids, they really didn’t have chores to do.
Sometimes Maureen would get the eggs from the hen house. However, there was a skunk inside the hen house stealing eggs. I was afraid that she would get sprayed or bitten so I went into the house with a 22 rifle thinking bravely that if I saw it, I would shoot it. Not really intending to shoot anything, because I never shot any animal. Though I had target shooting in the past on the farm. I even shot a shot gun and a 357 magnum. I was not really afraid to handle a gun. But, I admit I was afraid to shoot anything.
I entered the building, it was not very big, but big enough for chickens to lay their eggs in. I was thinking about this day as I watched the children play barefooted across the street. Sara hanging laundry and Moses in the pig pen feeding them.
When I entered the hen house, I saw a shadow of something in the far corner. I believed it was the skunk the way the chickens were acting. I raised the rifle and targeted it on a shadow in the corner. BANG! I shot at something! I hit it! And as I hit it, the skunk sprayed all over. Including on my feet and pants. Just when I thought I couldn’t be more frightened two more skunks ran past me. I almost shot my foot off trying to hit one. They both escaped out of a hole in the barn. The kids were screaming and laughing outside.
“We know you hit it, we can smell it!” They shouted.
I exited the hen house , with red burning eyes and smelling like a skunk.
“Yes, I got it and it got me too!” I cried out , sobbing.
I felt bad about hitting the skunk but I knew Oma would have done the same thing. If she was there she would have called me a ‘sissy”. Nothing frightened her, she was a tough old bird.
I had changed from the very first time I visited the farm. I was nothing but a city girl, not knowing much about anything. The very first time I met Oma mi ( Len’s great grandmother) who spoke little English, she called me towards her and to follow. I did and she was smiling up at me. She was only around 4ft 11 and wearing a dress with an apron with pockets, she grabbed a chicken and with the other hand pulled a butcher knife from her apron and cut the throat of the chicken. She was laughing, I was horrified and cried. It is true what they say the chicken did run through the garden with it’s head cut off.
I will never forget that day, nor will I ever do anything like that. No matter how long I live on a farm!
The kids held their noses as I came out of the hen house. I was crying because I stunk so bad. I walked to the house and took my shoes and pants off at the door and ran into the house for the shower. I cried while taking the shower. I never killed anything in my life. Never hurt anything except running over the puppy accidentally. That was trauma enough for me. I cried for weeks after I did that.
I could hear the kids yelling over to Moses that I killed a skunk and got sprayed. I am sure he thought I was a fool. I didn’t realize that I would get sprayed once the bullet hit the skunk. Dummy me!
I got dressed again, although I could swear I still smelled like skunk. I think it was going to take awhile for the odor to leave my nose. What a horrible stink!
I went outside and threw my shoes and pants into the fire barrel we had to burn rubbish and set them on fire. No matter what I would have done with them the stench would have lingered.
I calmly told Maureen the skunk was gone and she no longer had to be afraid to get the chicken eggs. I shivered at the thought of what I had done.
Just then Len pulled into the driveway and the kids ran to tell him what I had done. He got out of his truck laughing. “Quite the farm girl, aren’t you.” He shouted over the kids plea to play. I waved at him with a forced smile and looked back at the burning shoes and clothes.
I was not happy he was home. I had to run in and make some kind of a dinner for him. He was never pleased with what I made. Or if I promised to make one thing the night before and changed my mind, he would be pissed because I didn’t make it. He was self-centered and only thought about his stomach and work. We just didn’t fit into his world of important things anymore.
There was no intimacy between us and I missed being loved and kissed by a man. He starved me in more ways than one. He was a good father, provider and never spent money on booze. However as a husband, he sucked.
Copyrighted 2009
Chapter 8 — the slap
Chapter 8
The farm
It was nine in the morning and I was having my coffee and still in my robe. I heard a buggy in the driveway and went to the door to see who it was. It was Jacob. I hobbled to my room, pulled on a pair of pants and a tee shirt and limped back to the door. He was tying up his horses to the post we had off to the side of the driveway near the roses.
“Good morning Jacob.” I said with a smile, still holding my cup of coffee.
Jacob smiled and noticed I was limping but at least I could walk.
“Morning Cathy, I came to check on you, and return your bowl. The egg salad tasted fine. I enjoyed it.” Jacob said with his thick accent. I could see a twinkle in his eye as he spoke.
I took the bowl from him and thanked him for helping me with my ankle.
“I am sorry about that Jacob, but I am glad you were there to help me. I don’t think anyone would have seen me down in the dirt.” I laughed softly, trying to read his face.
“Don’t you worry yourself about it. I was glad to have been some kind of help. I do have to say, that is the first time I ever had any English in my buggy.” Jacob stared at the cinders for a moment in the driveway and seemed lost for words.
“Jacob, you can tell your family and neighbors they can come and pick plums. We have so many, and so many trees, I will never use them all. I would rather see them get use then rot on the ground.”
Jacob nodded his hat slipped down his sweaty forehead. I could tell he had been working hard already this morning.
“Thank you, I will let them know. Is Saturday a good day to come? If so they will come early in the morning to pick. They will all appreciate the plum jelly for the winter.”
I smiled and knew that they had to stock up for the long winter and I was glad to be able to help with something.
“Saturday is just fine, Jacob. You tell them all to come, not to be shy.”
With that, Jacob grabbed the reins to his horses and had them take a step back. He got into the buggy and offered a quick boyish smile and waved good bye.
I think he was afraid to stay too long. Sara across the street liked to talk to the other Amish and Jacob probably didn’t want any rumors spread. I didn’t understand the Amish yet, and their beliefs. I was trying to learn and got a few books from the library in town. I thought they might help me to understand the Amish better.
I invited my mother and father out for Sunday and I was getting prepared for them. I would make lasagna because I knew both of them liked it. Sara sold apple pies so I thought I would buy one from her. I know that was a way she made a little money for her large family. Plus they were good!
I told my in laws that I was having my parents out Sunday. I was hoping they didn’t come out and would let me visit alone with my family. It was work when they came out every Sunday. I had to be there, had to cook dinner for them and always have some kind of desert. So they didn’t just come out to work in their garden.
I could tell Shirley was abrupt on the phone and said, they probably wouldn’t be out then. Her tone was not pleasant. When I hung up the phone I had a feeling of dread. Something was just not right about that phone call.
Sunday came and my parents came out. My mother was heartbroken that I had chosen to move so far away from her. Not that she is gone, I am sorry that I did. I now have a lot of regrets about the move.
Crazily a car pulls in the driveway sending cinders and dust everywhere. It was my mother in law at the wheel and I could see two other people in the back seat.
My son yelled out “Hey what are you guys doing here?” He said jokingly with a mischievous grin.
Shirley flew out of the car yelling, “It’s my farm and I will come out any damn time I want!” she was angry and I could see she was jealous that my parents were on her farm.
She slapped Michael in the face and turned to yell at everyone in the car to get out. My parents were embarrassed and I think more for me than anything. Len walked up to her and she was all crazy like with hatred in her eyes.
Len calmed her down and his aunt Jean and Uncle Paul were in the car. I think they were afraid to get out after her scene. I was very angry that she slapped my son, but I would tell her later. They carried buckets back to Lens garden and they were picking beans. It was hot outside and I figured it would be soon that they would all come in for a drink. I told Len to ask them if they were hungry, I felt sorry for the aunt and uncle to have witnessed such a scene and it was not their fault.
They said no, they only came out to pick beans and tomatoes and to thank me for asking. My son cried softly to himself. He was more hurt by her words than the slap. I could see her handprint still fresh on his hot and red cheek. I kissed him and told him he did nothing, absolutely nothing wrong.
My family went inside and we ate the lasagna, there was plenty left over if they decided to come in and eat. My dad suggested I go back out and invite them in for coffee and pie. I was not happy about this because the last person I wanted to talk to was Shirley. I really sensed some kind of jealousy regarding my relationship with my parents for a long time. This just proved it.
I went out to Len’s garden they all had their backs to me and I could see they were hot and sweaty. Picking in the sun, afternoon sun was not only dangerous but it made you thirsty. They didn’t have anything with them.
I went up to Ken and begged him to come in and have coffee. He was embarrassed by what happened and I could tell they were forced to come out at Shirley’s order. I asked Paul and Jean and they seemed relieved and appreciative. I didn’t have to do it, but because my father was kind enough to suggest it, I did it to keep the peace. I was going to tell her what I thought before she left. One way or another she would here about the slap on the face.
Finally they agreed to come in and have coffee and pie. I served it with a smile, however I did not speak to Shirley. She sat there with a crunched up snub face. Wallowing in her own mind, that my parents were on HER farm.
They ate and didn’t stay long, it was uncomfortable but my parents were trying very hard to be gracious and hospitable. I couldn’t wait for them to leave.
When they were getting into the car, I walked over to Shirley and said quietly; “Don’t you ever hit my son again.” Without a word she scooted into the drivers seat and put it into reverse and left as fast as she came in.
That night Len and I argued over the incident. Of course he would stick up for his parents. I could never win an argument about them. The funny thing was we were paying rent and should be able to live normally and invite other guests to the farm. I guess to Shirley, she owned the farm and was going to be boss over it. No matter what.
I went to the couch and lay down sobbing. She had ruined my time with my parents. That was her intentions and she did it.
Next time I won’t tell her who is coming out, and I know my parents won’t want to come out too soon after that display of anger from her.
Now I even felt more alone.
Copyrighted 2009
Chapter 9 — Sara
Little Amish girl
Chapter 9
I was disappointed in Len and how he handled his mother’s behavior that Sunday. I was in a good mood after watching all the Amish pick plums the day before. There were 14 buggies parked on my lawn near all the plum trees. It was a sight to see, all these men and boys in their navy and blue outfits and straw hats, standing on wooden ladders they probably made, picking plums for their wives or sisters. What a sight, I am so sorry I didn’t take a picture of that. It is however locked into my memory.
Shirley was rude on Sunday. Her behavior was childish and what pissed me off the most that she had the audacity to slap my son in the face. I have never slapped my children in the face. I feel it degrading. I however was not opposed to a pat on the ass when they needed it.
Len just brushed it off saying she was jealous we had company. She didn’t give us any privacy at all. We were renting, and paying the oil and all the bills. It was not like we were living there for free. I could sense a change in her when I mentioned building a new home on the farm, however I attributed it to being somewhat jealous. I couldn’t think of anything else it would be.
Both Maureen and Michael joined 4-H. It was fun and we got to see a lot of other things people were going to be entering in the fair. Michael entered our Lab for obedience and Maureen got a white baby goat to show. It was fun and the kids really enjoyed it. They really took pride in the meetings and showing their animals off.
Life was pretty good on the farm, although Len and I didn’t get along too well. Like I said, we didn’t argue too much, but just drifted farther apart daily. I no longer was in love with him. I found him crass and ignorant. I must have been blinded by love in the beginning to let all of that go.
I walked down to the willow tree and the lake with the kids. They wanted to go swimming and it was so hot there was nothing much else you could do. I brought a book down with me and began reading it while sitting under the willow tree on the little bench. I loved that willow tree. I felt so secluded and safe under it. I could hear the Amish children playing across the street and the wind lightly lifted the branches of the willow, swaying them near me.
The kids played in the water with the big inner tube and I glanced up every now and then to watch them. They really were good kids and well adjusted. I was really angry that Shirley had slapped my son. I don’t think I will ever forget his face after the slap. He was in total shock and didn’t think he said anything wrong.
Summer was almost at an end and I knew it would be a long cold winter in that house. When we first said we would move out there. Ken said he was going to buy new windows for the house because they were old and drafty. He never said another word about it after we moved in. He also said he was going to get the septic tank fixed. I believe it was cracked and leaking from the bed. He never mentioned that again after we moved in. Things were starting to feel funny to me. Ken and Shirley were starting to act strangely about us living there. I just could not put a finger on it.
I closed my book and watched the kids swimming. It was a beautiful lake and the scenery around it was breathtaking. There were apple orchards and pear trees. There was a dirt rode that went along side of the lake and into the 60 acres of woods. We often walked down to the woods, and saw deer track and other little animal tracks in the mud. The kids would try to guess which animal it was.
The kids had enough of swimming so they gathered their towels and we all walked back up to the house. I needed to start dinner and Len would be home soon. I dreaded it.
Just as we were walking up to the house, Sara came walking up the driveway with another loaf of bread. We all waved and smiled and I asked her to come in. The kids went off to their rooms and I think both of them laid down to take a nap. Sara sat down and I thanked her for the bread, telling her she baked wonderfully.
“So, I saw you in Jacob’s buggy the other day. Is everything ok?” She asked while starring at me, no expression.
“I , uhm fell and sprained my ankle, he was kind enough to ride me down to my home, why is there something wrong?” I asked quizzically.
“Oh no, nothing wrong, it is unusual for an English to ride in an Amish buggy. I guess he was being kind. What do you think of Jacob?” She smiled slightly and tilted her head to blot her forehead off with a handkerchief. It was very hot and I suppose wearing all the clothing they did made them even warmer.
I didn’t have much time to think of an answer, it took me by surprise. “Jacob? Well I like him, he seems to be a hard worker and very friendly.” I managed a nervous smile. I was thinking she could read my face.
“Oh I see, some of the Amish women think he has spent a lot of time down here at your farm and were wondering if there was more going on.” She said matter of fact. One thing about the Amish, they didn’t mince words. They were not used to being social and so what ever they thought came out in their words. They were not tactful at all.
“Sara, there is nothing to worry about. He is just being kind and helpful. I am a married woman and he is Amish, I am sure there are many other women interested in him. He must be looking for a wife?” I said to her, trying to pump information from her.
“Oh yes, there are a few Amish women who are interested, but, Jacob is not looking for a wife. We think he just can’t get over his wife and children’s death yet. He should be happy that they are with God now and peaceful. It is here on earth we do our suffering.” She nodded again and this time looked solemn. I think her mind now was off of Jacob and me. I was relieved.
Sara stood up and said she had to go, Moses would be looking for her. She was not out of her children’s sight for long. Some were too little to be left alone. Though the older ones would take charge they were so responsible and seemed much older than their age.
The conversation made me uneasy and nervous. I had hoped she didn’t read more into my words. Now, I had to really be careful of how I interacted with Jacob. I was being watched, probably by more than just Sara.
Cruel words
Words can be cruel, they drill deep inside us,
Leaving a nauseating feeling, then the tears come.
However, when hurt so much, for so long,
there are no tears. Just a cold, empty feeling.
You file it away to make room for the next.
There are no emotions, do you deserve such words?
You begin to wonder. Why am I subjected to the abuse, for your amusement? Does it make you feel like a man? Make you feel powerful?
I don’t look at you as a man, I look at someone who is not an adult but still talking like they are on a playground.
Did your mother ever wash your mouth out with soap? If so, it didn’t leave a lasting impression. Perhaps you are numb and cold yourself.
I am tired of being the brunt of your jokes. When said and done you leave me a lot of hope for change.
shia
Copyrighted 2009
Snow
Beautiful is the snow that blankets the ground
The Car accident
How deadly it can also can be
Slippery mini white mountains make dangerous driving
But lovely to watch from a window
My son was in an accident the other day
The car was completely destroyed
He was driving and the cars roof was peeled back like a can
I have to thank God above, and the forgiving white snow that padded their impact.
I hate the snow, but today I respect it.
A very special friends book
I have a very special friend who has published a book. You can find it at :
http://www.lulu.com/content/5739484
Please support her, she is newly published and a great writer.
Thanks!
shia
Chapter 10
Chapter 10
The long hot summer days of August were upon us. We didn’t have any sort of air conditioning in the house. Even to use a window one would be too much on the old wiring, so we did without. The funny thing about being out in the open in the country, no matter how hot it got at night, there always seemed to be a breeze through the windows.
I had not seen Jacob in over two weeks. I did catch a glimpse of his buggy going up and down the street during the day. I seemed to be edgy. I didn’t know for sure if it was the kids, Len or just the weather.
I had to enroll the kids in the local school and it was small and sat between to large cornfields. I had to laugh to myself looking at it. It seemed so out of place. I think the kids were anxious about starting a new school and meeting new friends. They were excited about buying all the needed supplies. The school had given us a list to follow.
Len was crabby lately, it seemed his parents were different in the way they treated us. They became cold and distant. I wasn’t too sure why, but thought it might have been the way things turned out that Sunday my parents were at the farm.
School started on September 5th and the bus picked the kids up right in front of the house. That was so nice. I would not have to drive them in the winter. Those roads could be treacherous in the winter. Ditches on either side and the snow always drifted back onto the roads because it was so open.
Maureen and Michael adjusted well to the school. They met friends and still belonged to 4-H. All the activities took up a lot of their time. They were better off kept busy.
Len’s parents continued to come out on Sunday’s. They would bring their own water and food and only bothered us to use the bathroom. There was something brewing but I was not sure what it was.
Shirley was on all kind of medication, so I guessed that was part of her ever changing personality.
Finally we started hiding in the house when they would come out, not wanting to even talk to them. Len was fed up with their behavior and I was not used to being rude. I would still invite them in, but they refused.
Summer turned into fall and I saw less of Jacob. He seemed to have much work to do and I did catch a glimpse of his family coming out to help him with his chores.
I found time to make a pie and thought about bringing it down to Jacob. I had not been there in weeks and I didn’t think Sara would think much of it.
I boxed the pie and cleaned myself up a little and went walking down to Jacob’s farm. He was out working with some of his horses when I arrived and I called out his name, so I wouldn’t surprise him.
He smiled, ear to ear when he saw me. I felt like he had missed me too. It felt nice. Jacob walked closer, maintain his wide grin.
“Good morning,” he said still smiling. “Where have you been?”
I looked straight into his eyes and smiled back “Oh, I have been around. Busy with the kids and preparing the garden for winter.” I laughed softly , nervously.
I offered up the pie to him and he took it shaking his head.
“You are kind to me Cathy, I appreciate something baked from home.” I don’t bake, you know!”
We both laughed and I wanted to ask him so many questions but blurted out one that I should have probably held back.
“Don’t you ever get lonely out here by yourself, Jacob.” The words just flew out of my mouth and I was embarrassed after asking him.
“Well, I do, now that you mention it. But it is God’s plan for me. I have to wait and see what he has in store for me.” He said quietly through a few quick blinks.
“I am sorry Jacob for asking that, it is none of my business.” I answered politely and respectful of his feelings.
“No Cathy, it is alright to ask. I am not bothered by your questions. I know you are curious.” He grinned again, his blue eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief.
I laughed and felt at ease with him again. I thought I had stayed long enough and smiled and told him that I would hope to see him soon. I also told him to stop by and pick some beets and carrots if he needed some. I had a bumper crop of each. Jacob thanked me and said perhaps in a few days he would stop. With that, I left and smiled all the way home. It was a nice visit.
Winter was soon upon us. We needed to fill the oil for the house and put plastic on the old drafty windows. There was a small closed in porch on the back of the house that was always cold and we kept our freezer out there. We would need to heat that too if it got too cold in the winter.
The kids were doing well in school and I was proud of them for making the adjustment so well. They were both on the honor roll the first semester and I was extremely proud. I promised to take them into town for dinner and a few games on the video machines. They were thrilled and worked even harder.
Like he promised, Jacob came down before the first snowfall to gather beets and carrots. I was happy to see him and I started to really enjoy his company.
I told him I had some baskets in the barn and he followed me into the somewhat dark barn. The sunlight only peeked through the slats of the barn and gave it a nice warm feeling inside. The barn smelled like hay and the chickens were making noise because they didn’t know Jacob. The goose honked a few times and flapped his wings. We both laughed entering the barn.
He stood close to me, I could feel his nearness and became nervous. I stuttered a few times about the baskets. Telling him to choose any he wanted to pack the carrots and beets in. His arm brushed mine as he reached for one and I could tell he was feeling the same as me. We didn’t speak, but I could hear him breathing.
Quickly he reached for a basket and said thank you. He turned to leave and I knew he felt something other than thinking of the beets and carrots and the basket that he chose was going to be too large.
The kids were getting ready for Halloween and they decorated the yard with dummies. I could see the Amish children laughing and pointing as my kids worked on fixing up the yard. They carved pumpkins and placed them on the front porch. I knew there were going to be no trick-or treaters where we lived. I didn’t want to spoil their fun. The school had a Halloween party planned where the kids could get dressed up and local businesses would be there passing out candy. That would work just fine, they would eat too much sugar, I knew they would be safe and they still would have a good time.
I often thought about Jacob in the barn. How close he was to me. I know he felt something. I could tell just by the way he was breathing and didn’t speak.
Jacob had been alone for awhile, I did see other buggies pull in his yard. I couldn’t tell if it was another woman or just family. I was curious about who visited him. Even more, I started to feel jealous.
Copyrighted 2009
Chapter 11
Chapter 11
We gathered wood and shucked corn cobs that were dry to start our wood burner in the kitchen. The stove was nice. You could bake in it and cook on top of it. You just needed to adjust the fire accordingly. It kept the house so warm. We always kept a pot of water on the stove. It made for some nice moist heat instead of really dry.
I watched the Amish in their sleds and horses gather wood also. We gave Moses and Jacob permission to gather wood from the 60 acres that were on the property. It looked like a Norman Rockwell painting. Most of the time, Moses had little kids with him and they were laughing as they rode the sled.
Winter was upon us and I felt even more isolated. The snow was bad and it drifted a lot out in the open. Everything looked so barren. I could see across the street to Moses and Sara’s farm and the children were still outside playing most of the days. Maureen and Michael didn’t care too much for the winter either. They spent most of their afternoon time playing video games or watching TV after doing homework.
On Sunday, Shirley and Ken came out to visit. They were cool but I was used to their behavior. They ate dinner with us and Ken and Len went off to chopping some wood, leaving me and Shirley alone in the house except for the kids. I poured her some coffee and asked about the Holidays and she said they would come out to the farm Christmas Day. Which was fine with me.
I mentioned that Ken and I were looking at plans for homes and she seemed distant and uninterested. Then I showed her a plan and she said “I don’t remember you ever wanting to build a house out here.”
I asked the kids to leave the room and closed the door between the kitchen and living room and demanded to know what she meant by that statement. “Why would we have sold our home and moved out here? “ I said angrily and shocked by her comment.
The kids were crying. I could hear them from the other room. We had a heated debate and our tempers flared. One word led to another and before I knew we were in the midst of an angry confrontation.
I couldn’t believe my own ears. How could she do this to us. We sold our home. Planned to build in the spring and now we had nothing. I was devastated. I couldn’t wait until Ken and Len came into the house. Now, I needed Len’s support more than anything. Shirley and I stopped speaking. Len came in and I told him what she said. He was just as shocked as I was. He asked her why she was doing this to us. Ken didn’t look surprised. He told me not to be mad at him, it was her farm and she made the decisions with it. I couldn’t believe my ears. I told Ken I was mad at him too. He allowed her to do this to us. I cried, angry tears. I felt so stupid for believing them. Thoughts ran through my head and Michael came into the kitchen crying. “Do we have to switch schools again?” he said pitifully. I tried to assure him everything was going to be ok, but, I honestly did not know myself how things were going to turn out. I knew I was mad at them , both of them and wanted them to leave. Shortly they did and I sat and cried on the couch. I couldn’t believe they were doing this to us. I was sure it stemmed from the jealousy she had when my parents were out there. It was her property and we paid to live there. Filled the oil tank and took care of the farm until she decided what to do with it. We were fools.
Len and I argued. I think both of us were in shock. He called her when they got home for some answers. She just kept saying she didn’t recall us wanting to build a house out there. I had it figured out. She didn’t want to give up part of the property, it would ruin how much she would get. The property was shaped like an ‘L’ . Its frontage was on another street. That is where Oma always told us to build our homes. One for Len and the other for his brother Bob. That was the least amount of land you could build on in that county, ten acre’s.
When Len got off the phone with them, he had tears in his eyes too. He just could not believe they were lying to us. What were we going to do now? We both felt foolish for believing in them. We felt stupid for taking care of the farm. We were getting the shaft and it was bad.
I didn’t want to speak to Len. It made our relationship even worse. I blamed him for not standing up to her. I was angry at the whole world. I felt sorry for my kids who would now have to go to another school and make new friends all over again. That would be tough, three schools in one year.
The next few days, I moped around. I couldn’t get myself to call her and argue my point. She knew full well what she was doing. She probably had it planned from the beginning and we were just too naïve to realize that it was happening to us.
I asked Moses to take the chickens. I didn’t want them anymore. I kept the duck and goose. Moses came over with a cage and the horse and trailer. I was glad to get rid of them for the winter.
Nothing felt the same on the farm anymore. I was beginning to hate it. I hated being there. There was nothing to look forward to. I enjoyed living where the farm was, in the middle of Amish. The kids were happy with the schools and now, I had to sit down and think through other plans.
I called a friend in Real Estate and asked him to start looking for homes in the County where we were. We would not be able to afford to buy land and build, Ken and Shirley really made it hard for us to even want to look. But we knew we had to. I hated her.
Chapter 12
Chapter 12
Winter was mild for a few weeks. We could lower the heat and burn wood and keep toasty warm. I had a hard time with what was happening to us. How could Shirley say she didn’t remember us wanting to build a house on the farm. It was a known fact even when Oma was alive. We would eventually build a home there.
We were in a tough spot. I hated Len for not sticking up for us. He just said if they want us out, we’ll go. What else can we do. My friend the real estate man told me I could sue her. I chose not to go that route. It was too much to endure.
I blamed Ken for allowing her to do this to us. I just could not figure out her angle. Other than she didn’t want to split up the farm for monetary reasons.
My days were long and nights even longer. Len and I stopped sleeping together. I slept on the couch. I could hear mice in the walls scampering and it scared me. We put out poison for them, hopefully it would reach their nesting places.
Like she said, “It was her farm.” And no one would tell her what to do with it. Not even Ken. So we were stuck in the middle of a nightmare. The kids cried thinking about changing schools and my heart broke blaming myself for being so gullible.
I watched Jacob gathering wood for the winter and I envied his simple life. He didn’t have all the problems we had. Everyone thought Shirley and Ken were great for letting us live there and giving us land to build on. No one knew what was really going on.
I saw Jacob stopped in our field with a load of wood. I decided to take a walk out and talk with him. It had been a long time since we spoke. Since the time in the barn. I still thought about it often. It excited me.
Jacob was happy to see me, he showed it in his crystal blue eyes. They sparkled when he would see me. I knew he felt something but it was forbidden. We chatted a few minutes and I got too cold standing out there and wished him a good day and went back into the lonely house. It was not a home anymore to me. There were so many good memories of Oma there, and now it was just a nightmare to stay there each day.
Ken and Shirley did not come out during the winter. I didn’t invite them either. I was no fool. She could sit at home and wonder what she had done to us. She was lying and I could not believe she was getting away with that lie.
I lost respect for Len. He couldn’t stand up to his mother about the whole issue. It was me fighting the battle. She was winning. Now, I didn’t want to live out on the farm. I hated it and felt guilty because Oma was such a wonderful, giving person. Obviously she did not give these traits to her daughter. Shirley was spoiled and it was showing now more than ever.
She did argue with Len on the phone, saying it was her farm and she would do what she wanted with it. However, she ruined us in the process. We would have never sold our house and lived in the run down farm house if it was not for her. My kids knew the truth. They heard them ask us if we wanted to live out there and build a house. They were old enough now to remember what she had done.
I was finding myself missing Jacob in the winter, I watched him come to get wood and when I didn’t see him for awhile. I got depressed. He started to mean something to me. I don’t think it was because he was forbidden to me. I just liked him a lot. I knew he felt the same way.
Winter was bitter. It would snow and leave huge drifts by the house and long icicles hanging from the already tired gutters. I could see they were straining them and was worried they would break one.
The septic tank was small and could not support a family. We were having trouble with it and I was sure Shirley would not pay for it. They had promised to replace windows upstairs because they were so bad. They never did. What ever they could get by with they did.
Len and I barely spoke. If we did it ended in an argument over the house. My friend showed us homes in the area but they were out of our price range. It was a farming town and most of the houses were old and had 100’s of acres. We were no farmers and didn’t need that much land. I was hating the thought that I would have to tell the kids, that yes, they were going to have to change schools.
I cried most everyday and the depression was deep. I didn’t want anything to do with them. Something my father had said to me haunted me. He asked me if we had the deal in writing. I told him, it was Len’s parents and they were not going to screw us. He was right, I had to tell him. When I did he just shook his head and told me, even family can screw you. We were too naïve to think that they would. I told him he was wise and smarter than me. His intuition was right on the money.
A new month and winter was almost over. March was always snowy by us and I hated that every St Patrick’s Day was a blizzard. My mother was Irish and she loved St. Paddy’s Day. I found it hard to find pleasure in anything. Finding a home we could afford was looming over our heads. I didn’t know if Shirley was going to ask us to leave soon. Everything was left unsaid and a big mystery. We had to find a house.
I saw Moses and Sara outside one day when the sun was shinning but it was still crisp. I went over to talk to them and told them what Shirley and Ken were doing to us. They were shocked and told us they would miss us. We were good English neighbors. I smiled when they said that, and I told them I would miss them also. I would miss them, I would miss Jacob. I would miss the sound of children singing in German and their laughter at simple things.
I needed to find a house I loved and one with enough room to have a garden. My friend the real estate man took us every Sunday to look at open houses. S o far we could not find anything in the same school district we could afford.
I was angry, and getting madder by the day.
Copyrighted 2009
About the Amish Story
I wanted to give anyone reading this story some background. Most of it is a true story. There are some things that are written for entertainment purpose. It is true about the farm and what happened to us.
Thanks for reading, I would like anyone’s input on what they think of it.
shia
Chapter 13
Chapter 13
We managed to survive the long cold winter. It was a depressing time for all of us. Knowing we would have to move to a new place and start all over. I loved it at the farm and now I hated it.
Spring made me feel a little better and Len and I were still looking at homes. Farther away from the farm, but about 25 min away. It would be different schools for the kids. I did feel very badly about that.
Ken started coming out to the farm to get his garden ready. He was always busy doing something. Puttering around the farm, fixing fences or cleaning out a barn. I would go out to say hello to him, but had a hard time finding conversation. I told him, I blamed him too. He asked me not to, that it was her farm and he had no say so. I just couldn’t believe they were doing this to us.
I spent my days outdoors also. I didn’t feel like making a garden though I worked in it. I figured we wouldn’t be there long enough to enjoy it. I mostly worked outside to get rid of my depression and tend to Oma’s roses. She had so many, all different and fragrant varieties.
I was lonely and hated my life. The only joy were my kids and catching a glimpse at Jacob once in awhile. I decided to go down and visit him, I needed to see those eyes and feel what he gave me.
I walked down to his house and saw him fixing a fence where his cows were. They didn’t use electric fences so it was important they kept up with repairs. I had seen cows and pigs loose, they were not easy to catch. If a car would hit one, someone would get hurt.
“Hi Jacob” I yelled and waved, smiling.
“Cathy! I haven’t seen you in such a long time. You look like you outlasted the winter fine.” He laughed softly, pounding a nail into a post.
“I am doing ok Jacob.” My voice was soft and you could probably tell I was unhappy.
Jacob stopped pounding and looked over at me. He tilted his head and his hat slid a little down his forehead.
“You sound unhappy, Cathy. What is wrong? Can I help in some way?”
I shook my head and walked closer to where he was working. I forced a smile and shook my head.
“I have some terrible and sad news.” I said with a hint of anger in my voice.
I began to tell Jacob the story. He couldn’t believe it because family is so important in the Amish community. He listened and he was truly interested. I could tell by his expression he also felt badly.
“What are you going to do, Cathy?” Jacob asked sincerely.
I shook my head and just told him that we needed to find our own home and start over. But the relationship between Ken and Shirley was ruined. I had tears in my eyes and he placed his hand on my shoulder.
“I am sorry you are unhappy, it is not a family thing that they do to you. I hope it gets better and you can find something close to here. Your kids seem to like this area too.”
He removed his hand, slowly, but without regret. I felt good with his hand on my shoulder. It felt so strong and warm.
“Come Cathy, I want to show you something. “ He laid down his hammer and walked back to a small barn on his property. There inside was his collie mix dog with 8 puppies! I jumped and clapped when I saw them. How cute and innocent they were suckling on their mother.
“Oh can I hold one, Jacob?” He nodded and bent down and picked one up for me. He said that this puppy was cuddly and quiet. I hugged it and gave a little kiss on its head and Jacob laughed. They didn’t believe in loving their animals the way the English did. Their animals had a purpose. To feed them or guard their stock.
“You can have this one when it is old enough if you like, Cathy.” He laughed and said he was sure it would love the attention and the kisses I would give it.
Jacob moved closer and pet the puppy. His hand touched mine. He leaned down and placed a kiss on my lips. Softly, lingering, innocent. I kissed him back, gently. Not wanting him to think I was eager or hungry for his kisses.
He pulled back and his face was red and warm. “I am sorry Cathy, I should not have done that.” He shook his head, now he seemed ashamed and had a look of guilt on his face.
“Please Jacob, don’t feel bad. I wanted you to kiss me. I have for a long time. I am not lying to you either.” I pet the puppy and watched his face. I can’t describe the look he had. It was one of shame and sorrow. I think he was more ashamed he kissed me than he was embarrassed.
“Cathy, that is forbidden. I can’t look or feel something out of the Amish. If I would continue this I would have to leave the Amish and my family. Never to see them again.
“Please Jacob don’t feel badly. I have wanted you to touch and kiss me. I am not ashamed. I know I am married but we don’t live as husband and wife. I am lonely.”
Jacob was quiet and reached for the puppy, placing it back to it’s mothers teat to feed.
“Cathy we must never speak of this again. It must never happen again. I do have feelings for you, but for me it is wrong. I can be excommunicated from the Order of Amish. We are the oldest and strictest of Amish.”
I felt bad for him, I knew he was feeling terrible and had his own questions he would have to answer himself about what happened.
I decided to leave and told him I was not sorry it happened and I would do it again, if I could. I was not ashamed.
He forced a smile and as I turned to leave he told me that he too enjoyed the kiss and was not sorry it happened. I didn’t know if he was telling me the truth or just something I wanted to hear. He was confused. I could see it in his face.
I wandered down his driveway, sad but yet thrilled. I felt his lips, they were inviting and honest. I had not felt those feelings in a long time. I had no regrets. But, I knew he might have.
Love is fragile
Love is fragile
Like a butterfly wing
Permitted to grow it is healthy and secure
Love is fragile
like a rose petal
a soft velvety place to fall
Love is fragile
like a new born puppy
so dependent, in need of love and care
Love is fragile
Once broken, it dies quickly
Like the butterfly, rose petal and puppy
Chapter 14
Chapter 14
The winter was brutal. We had spent a fortune on heating oil. We were not able to save any money through the winter. The oil, rent and utilities took all of it.
Len was crabby all the time. I think it was because we had no place to go and it was Spring and we still did not know what happened with Ken and Shirley. We were tired of guessing. There were many nights Len argued with his mother on the phone. Ken tried to stay out of it, but he was still involved. How could he let her do this to us? Put us out and the plans of building a home out there went up in a puff of smoke; because of her lie. I still could not let it stop ringing in my ears “I never remembered you wanting to build a house out here.” It was such an easy lie for her. She said it with conviction. She almost could make me and Len believe it. I hated her for that lie.
I saw Jacob and visited him a few times. I was lonely and sad. He was lonely also. We spent our time talking about the kiss and neither one of us regretted it. It is something that happened. I wanted more.
Jacob explained to me, he would never leave the Amish. He also told me I could not leave my kids to join him into the Amish religion. Leaving the Amish he would have to give up what little family he had left. He would not be allowed to visit his children and wife’s grave either. I knew he was right. I hated to admit that I would only have one kiss from him and that would be all there was.
The Amish he belonged to were the strictest order. They could not even sit in a car unless it was a matter of life and death. They used no electricity and made most of their own food. Grew it in a garden or a pen. They had tons of chickens and were never without eggs. They made their own sour cream, cream and butter. It was a tough life, through my eyes since I had all the conveniences there were. However, it did not mask my feelings for him. None of it did. I wanted him and was not ashamed of that feeling. I could tell the way he looked at me, he wanted me too.
Ken would come out to the farm and spend time in his garden. I stopped going out to greet him. He brought his own food and drink. There was an out house back by the woods, I assumed he used that. He never stopped to knock on the door. I stayed indoors while he was there and he left without a word.
Shirley would call when she needed to know something or to tell us that we would be paying the taxes for the year. The taxes were high because it was a house, barn and buildings on 120 acres. I stopped speaking to her. Let the answering machine take all my calls and had Len call her back. I could tell he hated to call her. There was nothing I could do or say that I hadn’t already said to her. It didn’t make a difference. She had no compassion, no heart.
She just claimed that she couldn’t remember us wanting to build a house on the farm. It was something Oma always wanted us to do. It had been talked about for years. Other aunts and uncles saw our plans for a home. Everyone knew we were to build out there. Except her.
We began looking for houses. I read the papers, looked in magazines and looked on the computer. One day, the real estate man told us we were just going to drive the area a little and see what was out there. We went down street after street. I didn’t see anything I liked. Then on one street there was a white and brick ranch with a full porch. I wanted to see it, I fell in love with the outside. Tom the real estate man called the other real estate agent to find out more about the house. It was about 25 years old. It was a little out of our price range but we couldn’t wait to find out the details of the house. It was the first one that Len and I liked. The other real estate agent called Tom back right away. He told us about the house; 4 bedrooms, 2 ½ baths on 10acres. We were excited to see it.
The following Sunday we went inside the home. It was dated early 70’s but I told Len not to look at that. We weren’t buying the decorations. We loved the house and put a bid on it. More than we thought we could afford but we did it anyway. The people accepted the bid and the process of buying it began.
The next day I went down to Jacob’s house. I told him we found another home to live in and was in the buying process. He tried to look happy for me, and I tried to look happy too. I couldn’t help myself, I felt bad thinking I probably would not see Jacob again once I moved. It wasn’t that far , around 20 min away but, how could I go to visit him when I didn’t live next door anymore. I was heart broken. I moved close to Jacob and I could sense his nervousness. I kissed him softly on the cheek and touched his hand. We were near the barn and no one could see us, and I couldn’t care if they did. Jacob inhaled a deep breath and slid his fingers around mine. He turned his cheek and kissed me gently on the mouth. I was leaning into him. I was crying softly to myself. Knowing I would miss him and miss the feeling he gave me.
Jacob broke the kiss and this time he didn’t look guilty. He even smiled boyishly. I squeezed the tears away and smiled back at him.
“Jacob, I am going to miss you.”
He nodded slowly and murmured “ Yes, I too shall miss you Cathy.”
I wiped my hands on my jeans and nodded as he spoke. We both knew there would be nothing more than a stolen kiss between us. He would jeopardize being Amish and I would ruin my marriage. Even though it was not that great of a marriage. I would stay for the kids sake. I did not want them to come from a broken home. It was a sad situation and one that would make me think daily about it.
I can’t say that I loved Jacob. I was infatuated and longed for him. I had longed for a kiss like his for a very long time. I don’t know what was wrong with Len, he had no love left inside him and could not show me any compassion. He no longer had a caring personality and perhaps I had changed a lot also.
I know the more he withdrew from me the less I loved him too. I would miss Jacob and I think Sara across the street from us, knew that something was going on between Jacob and me. I didn’t care if she did. She would gossip about it to the other Amish women, but so far no one could prove anything. I would visit him again in the morning. I could care less what they thought of me. I just did not want to get him in trouble with the other Amish.
Copyrighted 2009
Some things are just out of my control
I mean, what do you do when you are at anothers mercy, waitting for something? You can keep up your end of the bargain but when they don’t, there is nothing left you can do.
I am waiting for a doctor to write a report for me. I have asked for three weeks now. He doesn’t wait for me to pay a bill, he wants his money right away BEFORE I see him. So what is the deal? He is holding up something else for me, because I can’t move forward without his written report.
I know I am just venting here, but I have no one else to tell, I have told everyone I know..lol. There is nothing to make this guy move any faster for some reason. I feel like telling him I don’t have the money the next time I go to see him.
Well anyway, they are your records but evidently it takes forever to get them sent where you need them.
Anyone else have this experience? I am so frustrated.
shia
Well……
I went to see the doctor that is holding up another procedure and he refuses to write a recomendation. I am totally drained out.
I can’t force him, he is in control. I guess I am going to try to go to another doctor and see what happens. In fact I called one this afternoon. Waiting to see if he calls back.
Going to take a nap
shia
Watch what you say
I understand what you are saying. It is not always true. You take a step over the boundries. I come in to protect.
Don’t tell me I have spoiled them. They are mine to spoil. They are not kids anymore. They are adults who think for themselves.
I don’t really need to protect them, I try to teach them respect. You offer none and still treat them as if they were children.
I do take their side most of the time, because you have forgotten compassion and how to reason. It is your way or no way. Even with me, which I have come to resent. You sometimes make no sense and it leaves me on the defense.
Watch what you say, you may be surprised at what you hear back.
shia
Winter leave me
Winter leave me, you have overstayed your welcome
I want it sunny and bright and warm
Your path leaves me chilled to the bone, and lazy
I am tired of you old man, leave me in peace
The days of blossoms and petals, make me yearn
The smell of fresh cut grass, still lingers in my memory
I want to hear the birds frolicking in the trees
The bee’s buzzing and making their honey
Winter leave me, I want the warmth of the sun
You have been here too long, you are no longer welcome
shia
copyrighted 2009
Natural Order – Gorean
I want to know what you think about the Natural Order of things. This means the way men and women relate to each other. Or suppose to relate. I ask this question because I am curious.
I have asked Goreans to post here. But, maybe they don’t feel like they want to. Perhaps I have stepped out of my Natural order.
I believe in certain things and have discussed them here before. Now I beg to hear your ideas.
I believe women are subserviant to men. You don’t? Why?
I love strong willed and strong men. I wouldn’t want it any other way. Of course I am not talking about being abused either. Just that men and women have two different roles to play in the natural order of things.
Submissive? Dominant? I would like to hear your views?
Are you Gorean? Do you believe in the Natural Order of things?
shia
Spring
Because it has been such a long and snowy winter, I have thought about spring a lot. It is a time to clean house, to get rid of all the dust bunnies. To give to the goodwill all those clothes that won’t fit you next winter, or didn’t fit this winter. We hold onto stuff too long. Thinking that it will fit, or we just can’t give it away yet.
Spring is the time to go out and search your yard for budding shrubs. Listening to the birds, searching for a robin. I can hear them sing in the morning now.
Spring is time to smile when that warm sun showers your face with it’s glow. You can feel the heat, and know soon it will be even hotter.
Spring is time for new things. New flowers, new wardrobe and above all a new attitude. Winter leaves us sulking and lazy. Spring revives us. That is one thing about the four seasons. Each one brings us a new attitude. A new survivor mode.
I am looking forward to spring. I have plans of a bigger garden and digging to make it just right. I am planning to make mine bigger and grow a lot of new vegetables. Organic and free. Sounds good doesn’t it?
I am going to be outside and appreciate spring this year. I have missed her. I want to show my appreciation for her returning.
shia
Gorean Master — Beauty verses Intelligence
I have posed this question on another site. It has brought a lot of comments. So, I post it here too.
Do you think a beautiful submissive is in the eye of the beholder?
What features do you look for in a submissive?
Is creativity and intelligence more appealing than just beauty?
Wishing all well,
shia
Spring
I raked leaves today from flower beds, left over from fall
I saw little green buds on the shrubs in the front yard.
Heard birds chirping, calling for mates
Saw signs of deer eating shrubs and small trees
It is spring, I am pleased
It felt good to be outside today. I worked really hard and it made me feel great.
Everything was dormant for so long, even me.
shia
copyrighted 2009
Small town
I live in a small town. You can recognize everyone, even if you don’t know their name.
We have a little circle, a subway and a gas station and a small corner store. You pay an arm and a leg at. But it has come in handy when you need that loaf of bread. I live twenty minutes from any other stores. Mostly sit between farms and cornfields. Cows next door. I can hear when they take a baby calf away, they both moan for hours. Even during the night!
When people walk down the street, they wave. Everyone works in their yards during the spring. When you need digging out from a snow storm. Farmers are there with their tractors to help.
I can smell the barn on days from next door. Not a pleasant scent. However, he does keep it clean so rarely is there an odor. He has about 100 cows. Mostly show cows for the country fair.
When it snows out here, it just blows onto the streets because it is so open. The roads are never clean.
In the summer, you can buy anything. Farmers park in the circle and sell all their vegetables. Truck loads of Sweet corn. It is a buyers market.
The amish set up their wares in the circle too. Horse and buggy and all. They sell baked goods, breads, pies and quilts and baskets.
I enjoy living in a small town, it is comfortable. You don’t have the luxuries you would have living in the city. But, it is a trade off.
If you have the chance in your lifetime to live in a small town, take my advice and try it.
You can buy fresh eggs on the corner, maple syrup, honey right down the street from you. There is even a man that offers bee stings for arthritis and other diseases. Ouch! Some people get 20-40 bee stings in one sitting. He does very well and only asks for donations. However he sells honey and lotions made from wax. It works great!
I love the small town, I love the open air. I love the privacy. I have found a little part of heaven in my world.
shia
The kiss
I want to feel the moist warm breath on my lips. Just before they press together. To feel the air in my lungs, holding my breath.
To feel a hand upon my breast and a soft lick, flicking on my neck.
I don’t want to breathe, I want to be smothered in a deep, wet kiss.
It makes me wet thinking about it.
Tongues entwine, lapping, licking and hot breaths and whispers.
Oh, to feel such a kiss, would make me melt.
shia
On the phone
The phone rang. Ryan was in the garage drying off the car that he just washed.
The phone rang again and I answered it. It was my brother. Long time no talk to. He is always busy with his business and traveling.
I was happy to hear from him so we began to chat about the usual things.
Ryan came in and plopped down onto the couch next to me. He whispered something in my ear and I knew he was up to no good.
He started trying to take my clothes off, my hands were acting like shields. I gave him my best dirty look, it didn’t work.
He started kissing my cheek, leaving little wet spots on my face. I laughed nervously as I continued to talk.
Ryans hand slipped up my shirt, I did not have a bra on, I rarely wore one. Only if I had to. He squeezed my nipple and rolled it between his fingers. I gasped sharply and my brother kept on talking. Never asking what that deep breath was. I was thankful. I was annoyed and excited at the same time.
Why was Ryan doing this to me now? I could kill him! He continued to kiss my face, my ear and my neck. He was driving me crazy.
He cupped my breast and palmed my nipple. I was warm and still somewhat upset over his antics. He had me, he knew it.
My brother kept talking, about his job. It was begining to be hard to concentrate on his conversation.
Ryan slipped his hand under my jean skirt and rubbed me through the silky material. I was holding my breath and continued to talk on the phone. Giving Ryan a dirty look once again. He continued.
Pushing my panties aside he slipped his finger into me. He pumped it gently and I was breathing faster on the phone. Still, nothing changed on the phone. Only my quick little breaths.
He stroked my clit, rolling it and petting it. I felt wonderful and I hated that Ryan was taking advantage of me. However, I was grateful.
Again, he slipped his finger into my pussy. Pumping it gently again. I was getting close as I tried to keep up the converstaion on the phone. Finally I came, hard and wet. I was silent for a moment while on the phone and my brother asked if I was alright. I told him I had never been better and was slightly distracted by something.
Ryan was laughing and kissed me on the cheek and went back to the car in the garage. I sat there with a smile on my face, talking on the phone and wet panties.
I never enjoyed talking on the phone as much as I did today. I hope I can think of something else the next time my brother calls.
shia
copyrighted 2009
Just Friends
Mallory and Megan were just friends. Good friends from high school. They were on the cheer leading squad for all of their high school years. They had the pick of the football team. Mallory dated quite a bit, Megan was more of a loner. Dated a little but nothing to write home about. She rarely said she had fallen in love.
Now in their late 20’s they both seen each other weekly for lunch and shopping. Both were not married yet. Dating seemed to take secondary in Megan’s life. Mallory dated frequently and even had fun doing the three minute dates in a bar. Nothing came of it.
One day at lunch Megan asked Mallory to come back afterwards to her aparment, wanting to show her new furniture. Mallory agreed and they both sat and had a few drinks and a Taco salad, that was to die for.
After lunch Megan drove Mallory to her aparment since it was near the restaurant. Megan seemed nervous and excited at the same time. Mallory felt a little tipsy from the drinks they had and laughed all the way there.
Stepping out of the car, Mallory tripped on the sidewalk and Megan helped steady her. Mallory noticed her touch was light and caring..
They entered the building and into Megan’s apartment. It was lovely. She always had a flair for decorating. Mallory gasped at how beautiful she had decorated it and smiled. Megan began to show her around and pointed out little things she added to her apartment. It was neat and beautiful. They moved to the bedroom and Megan out did herelf. There was satin everywhere. A beautiful peach and teal color scheme. It was apparent she put a lot of work into the bedroom. Megan noticed Mallory was still a little tipsy and pointed to the bed. Mallory sat down on the quilted, luxurious bed and then laid back onto the bed telling Megan how wonderful it felt.
Megan slid down to sit next to Mallory. It was obvious in her facial features she enjoyed Mallory’s indulgence on the bed. Her skirt had risen along her tanned and shapely leg. Revealing her thighs. Megan thought how beautiful they were. So sleek.
Malory yawned and stretched and Megan stirred with excitement. She had been fond of Malory in different ways than Mallory had suspected. She just never told her that she was into women. SHe didn’t want to ruin their friendship. However, she could not resist her stretching out all over her bed. Megan began to stroke Mallory’s hair and Mallory seemed to like it. It was innocent enough. Megan wondered if she could kiss her, and so she leaned down and pressed her lips to Mallory’s. They were full and warm. They were also moist. Megan became aroused and Mallory allowed the kiss Megan was confused slightly. Did Mallory want that kiss as much as she did? Megan leaned down and kissed her again. This time much firmer and hungrier. Mallory stirred under her and kissed Megan back. Megan began to slide her hand over Mallory’s clothing and began to pull her blouse that was so neatly tucked into her skirt. Mallory moaned softly and stretched again, this time more of a sensual stretch. Megan liked it.
Megan straddled Mallory, began to unbutton her blouse. Mallory closed her eyes and let it happen. Megan leaned down and pushed the blouse off to the side and with her teeth began to lift Mallory’s bra up over her breasts. Mallory stirred beneath her and offererd no resistance. Megan was pleased. She kissed her again and then began to take a nipple into her mouth, twirled it with her tongue and sucked gently on it. Mallory was moaning softly. Her hips began to lift in need. With her hand, Megan pushed up her skirt to her upper thighs and slipped her hand and fingers along the soft material of her panties. She could feel Mallory was wet and this excited Megan even more.
Megan slipped her head down between Mallory’s thighs, she teased her through her panties with her tongue and hot breath. Megan’hips raised with her soft touch, teasing her. Megan placed her teeth at the waist band of her panties and dragged them down over her pussy. Mallory was moaning and groaning louder. Megan slid her tongue along Mallory’s pussy lips and dipped the tip of her tongue inside her. Mallory clenched the sheets of the bed and pushed her body onto Megans tongue. She was full of need. Megan plunged her tongue into Mallory, curling the tip and then circling her clit. Mallory was writhing on the bed. Megan grabbed the cheeks of Mallory’s ass and lifted her onto her tongue. Rocking and swaying her body as she plunged deeper and wetter into her pussy. Mallory was shivering, her feet dug into the bed, her fingernails gripped the sheets and Megan was unforgiving, plunging her tongue in and out of Mallory. Mallory came, hot, wet and washed over Megan’s tongue.
Megan was happy that she had made her come. Mallory was slightly embarrassed but flushed with excitement. She whispered Megans name and purred softly as she turned to face her in bed.
She put her arms around Megan and kissed her , long and deep. They were now more than just friends and it seemed perfectly fine with both of them. Mallory confessed she always wondered what it would be like to make love to Megan and secretly thought about it often. Megan was the braver of the two and just tried to excite her, which she did.
Mallory started kissing Megan and soon she was making love to Megan. Both seemed happy and it seemed natural for such good friends to embrace and love each other. Their relationship lasted for awhile, until Mallory found another boyfriend. Megan was hurt but knew Mallory liked men. She now had her memories of her friend and some jealousy. Both would wear off in time.
Afterall, they were just friends. Good friends.
My Bike Ride
Well, this morning I went for my bike ride. I was doing fine until I changed the side of the street I was riding on because my driveway was just ahead. Suddenly a red pick up came down the street and I was facing him. He DIDN”T see me. He pulled away in a second and I was already going down the ditch and onto the grass. I didn’t hurt myself , luckily. I do have a bruised ego and muddy knees.
I was so angry at him that I could have chased him down if I could pedal that fast. He probably saw me in his rear view mirror and laughed when I fell. That is how I feel about that. What an ass.
Bikers beware. Not everyone will let you share the road.
shia
Fade Away
I am in my prime so they say
I have never been more unhappy
Not because I miss my youth
But for things I can’t control
I want a better life, a better lover
I am committed to one , and for so long
I have lived a life of gulping down feelings
And pushing away my own needs
I guess I am in a rut and don’t know a way out
No where to run, no where to hide
I am held here in restraints
Invisible they may be. Issues of
Money and insurance and just plain old living expenses
I am bored with life and no matter how hard I try
I can’t seem to unbury myself
I don’t feel sorry for myself, just angry that I am in
Such a predicament, I harbor a lot of anger, and resentment.
The funny thing is that I no longer express any emotion.
Life can do that to you. Being in a emotion less relationship
Can do that. I am overwhelmed in this life.
I have tried to communicate my feelings but they fall on deaf ears
You have a voice for only so long then it fades away.
I am fading away
Spring
Oh Boy, what weather we have been having. I have spent three days in the beauty of Spring. We have had 80 degree weather.
I have been cutting grass, planting flowers and seeds. The trees are beautiful. Blossoms all over and it looks like a shower of snow on each limb. Utterly beautiful. The sun feels so good on my skin. I have a little sunburn across my nose. I love it.
I tinted my hair an auburn and the sun makes the highlights stand out. Silky and smooth. I love what the sun feels like and what it does to the earth. Too much of a good thing is not good either. But after such a brutal winter the sun sure feels good.
I feel better in the sun, it gives me energy. It is true. During winter I don’t have that same energy.
I am not riding my bike because of the scare I wrote about last week. I am kind of nervous.
Well this is just a happy note saying how much I love the weather. How good it makes me feel.
shia
Death of Vegetables
Well, the title is interesting. I babied plants in a little mini green house indoors and they were all coming up fine. I brought the green house outdoors to catch some sun and heat. Thinking it will do them so good.
My daughter ran them over in the car. There are tire marks where there used to be plants and now they are all torn apart and smashed into the planter.
I hope you understand. These were like babies to me! Watching everyday and nurturing them.
I can salvage some plants but most are dead, dead, dead.
I am in mourning
shia
Hard Times
Well… A lot of us can say we have fallen on hard times. I used to recruit physicians for ER’s. And schedule them. I loved my job. But do to downsizing I lost it. Not too many places do this kind of work where I live. I could move out of State but I am afraid of that risk.
I was so disappointed when they closed our office. The job was a very stressful job and I was on call 24 hrs a day. But, I lived on that stress. It was good for me. I am sure others would have hated it. I tried recruiting nurses afterwards and though I liked it , it was not the same. Working with doctors was different. I guess I just have to forget that job. It is hard to do though.
I also loved my boss, we had a great support in him. He was also very understanding and if we needed a sick day, never made us feel guilty and allowed us to work from home. Which was a good thing. I was in charge of 13 different Hospital ER’s. It was tough. But it had some fun to it.
Once we paid a doctor 50,000 to do a 12hr Christmas Eve shift. The most we ever paid anyone. But we could not get another Doctor to accept the shift. We would be in breach of contract if we didn’t cover that shift. An ER can NOT be without a doctor.
How would you like to make 50,000 for 12hours of work?
Incredible.
Well, I miss my job. I am going to be looking for something new. I hope it will be just as much fun and challenging. I loved the challenge of recruiting and finding new Physicians. Maybe there is something out there. I have to keep looking.
shia
Shades of Night
In the shades of night, he watched her
Her scent ambrosial. He the Master of refined taste.
As she slept he whispered of magical places
and murmured an enchanted spell.
Soon a place for him and her to dwell.
In the shades of night he kissed her.
This “kiss” like no other before.
Leaving a burning, smoldering, insatiable lust for more.
In her dream like state she raised her body to his.
Gripping,melting into his kiss and arms.
In the shades of night he took her.
Mind body and soul, entering a timeless place.
Leaving only a single drop of crimson, the only trace
So bold now was his sin
In the shades of night, she belonged to him
shia
copyrighted 2009
Just what does everyone want?
Well, I lost my job as a physician recruiter. The satelite office here closed. Since then, we have been struggling to make it. I have bill collectors calling everyday. You try to rob Peter to pay Paul. You wonder where to make the next cut. The only thing left is your food bill. And, that isn’t saying much these days. You buy the cheapest foods and try and make it stretch.
I am making a garden this year. We live on 5acres I thought of raising my own beef and pig to have them butchered in the fall. However knowing me, I would name them and become to attatched to have them butchered. Therefore having more mouths to feed.llol I thought of chickens but then what do I do with them once they have stopped laying? I would have to keep them around until they croaked because I couldn’t kill them. lol
So nothing has an easy answer.
I have a friend who is going through a difficult problem with her sewage. It is going to cost them 10,000. They don’t have it. ANother one who will rob Peter to pay Paul.
How did we all get this way? The economy is horrible. Soon there will be no middle class. It will only be the rich and the poor. I have thought about selling my house, but who is going to buy it? No one is buying right now. If I can’t come up with the money every month the bank will take it. So then where do I go?
There are so many people in this position. I feel sorry for them. Bill collectors calling, what do they want? MONEY!!!!!!!!!!
shia
Love and Forgiveness
Lately I have been giving this a lot of thought.
I grew up with a narcissistic father who made fun of me and was extremely hard on me. He did mean things to me as I grew up. I wonder how you forgive and forget.
I think now I am getting older, and so is my father. I want to forgive him before he dies. I think it would be harder after he is gone.
I just wonder what makes a parent want to belittle and make their child feel unloved. I am unsure if they are capable of really , unselfish love.
All my life my father hurt me. When I moved out. When I was a little child and even as an adult he had power over me. I think we allow it because we in return only want love from them. We cant’t forgive them and don’t forget. How can you forget mental abuse. That is what it is. I sometimes thought I would rather have him beat me, at least that pain would go away. To this day, I feel the pain of his words.
I vowed never to treat my own children in such a way. I always tell them I love them. I think that is so important to hear. They are not little kids anymore either. I wish I would have heard my parents tell me they loved me. My mother would say it occassionally. I remember how good it made me feel.
My father was jealous of my mothers relationship with me. He would do mean things to her too. See, when we are kids we think it is our fault. That we have done something wrong to make them treat us this way. Only now as an adult can I say I have thought differently and know now, it was him and his poinsoned way of thinking.
I have a friend writing about Narcissists and I thank her for bringing this topic up. It has made me think about how I was brought up and to this day, seek the love of my father.
I believe he is sorry for how he treated me, there are so many things I can write about what he did to me, but it is pointless. The damage was done.
To this day, he favors his sons. They can do no wrong. His daughters are second. Always have been. I think this is how he was raised also. He just passed down the behavior because I see some of it in my brothers. Is it hereditary? Or a learned behavior?
He is Italian and I believe the way he was brought up made him the way he is today.
I have to learn how to forgive him, because I really don’t think he was in as much control as he thought he was. Afterall isn’t it about control?
My mother is dead and I miss her terribly. My father is 82 and in great health. So, he must have done something right. I hope I don’t have any of his traits. I don’t believe I do. But then again, I should ask my kids.
When it is over, you know
I am tired of your hurting ways
To be blunt, I have put up with your assinine antics for years
You don’t think before you talk. You’re so negative.
Bringing me down is all you do. I can’t take it anymore.
I am sick of your immature ways. You calling names and putting people down, does it make you feel better?
In my eyes it makes you look bad, it makes me hate you.
I am tired of everything going your way. You make no sacrifices when it comes to my side of the family.
For you, I do it all. It has to be a two sided street. It doesn’t work any other way.
I give, you take. You think I am dumb for being so easy.
I am trying to be kind and make it work.
Today, I am through. No more giving. No more one sided street.
I want out and I am not looking back.
I need a new road to walk on
shia
copyrighted2009
Gorean Philosophy
Well, I have read most of the Gorean books through the years. I even belong to a couple of web sites that answer questions or you can leave your own posts.
I am confused that when I have written about Gorean things, people read the posts but don’t respond. Not that they have to.
I have a friend who has written about Gorean things and she too does not get any answers to her questions. I guess that leaves me a little confused. If Goreans have read the books and feel comfortable in their own skin, why not help others to understand your philosophy?
I want to know certain things. Dominants and Submissives can answer. What are your roles in a Gorean relationship? Does it matter to the Master how beautiful his slave is? Or does intelligence and creativity mean more?
What do you submissives seek in a Master?
So far I have been ignored about asking these questions. I would like some input if you can help. Please explain your philosophy and how you train your submissives to be the best they can be for you.
regards
shia
Good News
I have been waiting a long time for some news. Today I got it and I can’t believe it is going to happen. I will need prayers and kind thoughts through this. So, I am asking my friends to keep me in their thoughts. It will be something life changing for me. I can’t wait. I have waited a long time for it.
Finally some good news to pass along.
shia
Friendships
I looked upon my yesterdays
feeling so happy from where I came
So many wonderful memories and yet
there is pain
I loved my childhood friends,
though I don’t see them anymore
I think of them often, with warm memories.
Although I had things that made me grow up fast
The good times disappeared and the bad memories last
I have made new friends, for which I am thankful
They have smoothed out rough spots in me
And told me where I should be
It is in kindness they are frank
I respect their honesty.
Summer Tanka
Today is summer
The heat has made roses wilt
Like a sad lover
Crying crystal tears that flow
Can not the tears offer life?
shia
copyrighted 2009
Hummingbird
She perched herself atop an orchid
wings fluttering profusely
The long beak reaching for nectar
In a moment she was gone
Like lovers who have given up
shia
copyrighted2009
Weighty problems
I was thinking about how when I was younger we played outside more. There were no video games and children obesity was not as prevalent as it is today. Children are less active. Times have changed.
I was chubby when I was a kid and I can remember dreading school clothes shopping because my mom would take me and my dad would take the boys. She would always yell “We’ll be in the chubby department” Now, you would not find that word in a clothing store. However, you do see “plus” sizes. I guess that is a kinder way to say chubby or fat.
Some that know me know I have lost a lot of weight. However through my childhood Iwas the brunt of jokes. Even from my father. He said terrible things to me as a kid. I still can’t forget them.
I was popular in school and never went without a date. However I did miss prom because someone I asked was taking someone else. It worked out in the end. I found out he was gay after highschool. Somehow this made me feel better…
I have a sister who has a child that is overweight and she is always picking on him about it. I cringe because I know the damage she is doing to him. She is not making matters better, but making them worse. He will end up eating more. He also plays a lot of video games. If she wanted to help, put that away so he has to play outside.
Making fun or picking on a kid does not help. Words leave scars for the rest of your life. Believe me,