Grumpiness and Punishment


Working as hard and much as I have been recently has made me grumpier than usual. I’ve been downright mean to Master, answering Him in a rude manner and being snippy and nasty. Even at the best of times I tend to be a bratty submissive – it is simply part of who I am, part of my make-up. Master loves and accepts me – all of me, but He will not tolerate disrespect, and I don’t blame Him, as nobody should have to deal with such nonsense.

He tends to not punish me with spankings, beatings, or flogging, because I enjoy all these things and am somewhat of a pain slut. He certainly doesn’t want to have me enjoy His discipline when He is trying to make a point. I know it is going to be very bad when He tells me to lie face down on our bed and I hear Him open a certain closet. Then I know He is going for one of His chastity belts. Sir has two. They are both hard for me to take, but one is nigh intolerable. Both have places for insertables, meaning dildoes and butt plugs. As I have gained a bit of weight they are even more tight and uncomfortable  and He rather likes that even more!

Master intended me to wear the belt overnight. He inserted the silicone butt plug and strapped on the leather belt with attached large dildo. He gave me permission to pleasure Him with my hands only, then swallow His precious seed. He told me I was His good girl, turned over, and drifted off to sleep. I tried to do the same. I couldn’t find a comfortable spot. I was hot. Finally around 5:30 I begged for release to urinate and move my bowels. I have the kindest, most generous Master!

I hope to have learned a lesson. Do you think I have?

Organization Skills

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We are readying our house to be sold very soon. Our realtor and his office (other realtors) will come through next Tuesday and do a walk-through to see if all is in order before listing it. Which means Master, daughter and I have been busy organizing, cleaning, and making ready. Mostly me, I can say without bragging, simply because I have done 90% of the labor. This involves going through, room by room and deciding what can be donated, thrown out, or kept. Then reorganizing in a better and nicer-looking manner than our usual messy, lived-in, disheveled sort. It is exquisitely draining. Thus far our huge family room, sitting area, dining room, kitchen, library, guest rooms # 1 and #2, daughter’s room and bathroom, laundry room, computer room and hall are finished. Tomorrow we are tackling the Master bedroom and closet. Then it will mainly be neatening up.

We’ve hauled several carloads of donations to two different organizations and boxes of books to the medical alliance book fair where they will be resold. We tossed out a worn twin size bed and box spring. We have taped up boxes of our girl’s toys and books for when she has her own children (please Almighty, not for awhile…) I am thrilled with how clean and neat my home is, but it doesn’t feel like “my” place. I wonder when we move to California later this year if we can possibly keep our house as neat as this? I hate to be so sloppy. We’ve raised so much dust we’ve been sneezing as if with terrible summer colds.

Must say, this feels like somebody else’s house!



Trees teach us so much, don’t you think? As a submissive I am inspired by the quiet patience of the great trees in our yard. Many are nearly 100 years old, however even the young saplings I am nurturing and attempting to help along through the long summer months have lessons for us. They teach us to grow long roots and not be shallow. To wait patiently for sustenance, for as time slowly passes, it will eventually come to us. To be strong in the face of adversity; that natural beauty is perhaps the greatest gift of all. I think there’s something so sad about a big old tree which has fallen. We see that happen here after a very wet spring and days and days of rain.  Of course it’s a terrible and horrid thing for man to chop down a tree – but when one falls due to natural events it is simply tragic.

There are few things more majestic than our ancient grand trees. Even our natural stone or rock formations such the Grand Canyon, natural stone arches, waterfalls, waves crashing upon the shore, etc. can’t compare to the beauty each season these wondrous creatures bring us. For to me plant life of all kinds are creatures too. Surely they must feel a type of pain when parched for water or when a limb breaks. And even the oldest of trees must feel a new awakening each spring when the tiny green buds burst forth and open as new leaf growth.


This is a Pin Oak in our yard. It is a very nice big one, though by far not among the biggest in this area! They can reach enormous heights. The roots are spread throughout our side and back yards by our drive, making it difficult to dig a hole to transplant anything. It must be fifty feet tall, perhaps more. I am not great at guessing heights such as this, however we have a two storey house, and the tree towers over it. The leaves are narrow and about two inches long. Our next door neighbor on that side Jean has the prettiest tree in the entire neighborhood. It’s a magnificent enormous Sugar Maple which is rare for our area. The Pin Oak’s branches on the right are growing into it. In the autumn, the Maple’s leaves which are small but the typical maple shape turn a bright yellow which is rather stunning to behold. It is so beautiful. Fall in east Texas is one thing I will miss when we move to southern California where you do not have four distinct seasons. I believe the turning of the seasons keeps us sane and healthy. It reminds us we are not in charge; nature ultimately is, and the feeling can be very rejuvenating. Master especially loves springtime for its beauty and renewal of life. I am fond of fall and winter because I love all things which go with cool weather: food, clothing, activity, holidays, and nature’s eternal loveliness.


This is a Chinese Tallow tree in our yard. They are showy decorative trees which tend to volunteer here, but are not hardy and need proper pruning to grow strong. They do not have lengthy lifespans. There’s a younger one near it not flourishing due to lack of light. The very old low stone fence/border/gateway you see is what I believe marked the old house which must have once stood at this property way before our house was built in 1935. If you look closely you can see my other next door neighbor’s car parked in their driveway past the picket fence. Their home is much newer, having been built in the 1950’s-1970’s era. There have only been four owners of our home and no one has seen a reason to take down the old stone border, so there it stays. Some trees we have tried and failed to grow. We love Dogwoods and they generally do well here if planted under a canopy of other trees. We’ve planted three and none have survived. They are finicky, however you see them blooming wild in the spring in the remaining forests we have here. We also planted a beautiful Weeping Willow. I adore Willows. I did not know they too are very short-lived! Ours was a beauty for about six years and then declined for two and died. I still miss it.

Trees are like people. I do not think you can bend them to your will. If it’s meant for them to come live with you, they must come of their own accord, almost like a D/s contract. The Dominant has the control but the submissive guides the relationship by giving Him the control of her own accord. He can’t demand it. As much as Sir and I would love to “own” a beautiful Dogwood… it is not meant to be.       ** We do have a dear old Dogwood in its very last years right at the chain link fence by our neighbor. I lovingly water it when the weather is beastly hot, as it is now, as the automatic sprinklers do not reach it.

Well you see doctor, it was like this…


On our recent visit to my mother-in-law, Master and I took a day trip with our girl and his nephew to San Francisco. It is a favorite destination. The city is so lovely with older architecture and the steep precarious hills with the romantic cable cars going up and down. There is excellent shopping and delicious food to try everywhere you look. The streets of the city are lined with unique, interesting shops which beckon, and it seems to a visitor that there isn’t enough time to possibly see everything. I happen to enjoy cool weather so it is a treat to leave the torrid heat behind and be able to walk to our heart’s content.

One of the greatest wonders of the modern world must be the Golden Gate Bridge and I never tire of driving across it nor admiring it from whichever viewpoint happens to be available. Considering this was built in the 1930’s and is still one of the longest suspension bridges is remarkable. The cables are quite simply amazing. The bridge is painted its unique orange-red color annually. The work is begun at one end and it takes the entire year to complete, so when the painters finish they start over again.

We always eat Dim Sum in Chinatown when we visit. Dim Sum means “dumplings” but it is more than that. It’s traditionally served as brunch and women push carts laden with bamboo steamers from table to table so you may choose which dishes you desire. It is quite inexpensive unless you go to a high-end place. It’s fun to go in a group so you can try more items. Usually each steamer holds three to four of the same item. It’s mostly rice noodles wrapped around things such as shrimp, scallops, pork, etc. Often things such as cilantro, spinach, garlic, and more are added. There are literally hundreds to choose from at a good restaurant.  Afterward, we wandered around Chinatown and found many intriguing shops. There are many stores which sell only tea. I wish I knew more about the science of brewing tea, because it is my favorite drink – hot or cold.

We found a souvenir shop where daughter wanted some t-shirts for her friends back home. Master found the box of ben wa balls you see above, and I knew we would have some fun upon our return home. So after we went to my mom’s to see her and get our two little dogs, and daughter went out with friends, the fun began. We already have two sets of these; one set of plain gold which is smaller, and another smaller set which are rubber coated, joined together and have a tag for easy removal. Master had great fun trying (and ultimately succeeding) in placing one inside me. It wasn’t pleasant but once inside I really couldn’t feel much of anything. They do make a very pleasant chiming sound, and I was hoping to hear/feel this inside, but I couldn’t.

Then He decided to fuck me while the ball was in my cunt. That was decidedly unpleasant (for me) although Master enjoyed it. He asked if I wanted to leave it in overnight, and although I really did not mind, in retrospect, it was wise to not do so! Master tried to remove it. Really, He did. He told me to bear down. He told me to push. He stuck His fingers inside but could not grasp the thing. Balls are slippery, you know, especially lubricated ones. We were at a loss. (Bear in mind, I never could push daughter out after 20+ hours of labor and 4 hours of pushing…)

I might remind you Master is a physician. He knows most people here in our small town medical community. He was displeased with Himself. He tried inserting a lubricated spoon, thinking to place it above the wretched ball and push it out. No go. I suggested the smaller of my kitchen tongs to possibly grab the thing…?  Nope. At this point He said I was starting to bleed some. I tried pushing again and felt as if I were back in the L&D room 19 years ago. We were both perspiring profusely now. I suggested lying face down, placing my feet against a door frame for leverage and pushing. That didn’t work either. Then I had the brilliant idea of sitting on the toilet and pushing as if to have a bowel movement. Bingo! The pretty little ball popped out and landed in the bottom of the water (no poop…)

Master praised me to the heavens and apologized over and over. Needless to say, we will not be playing with balls again anytime soon!

What do you see?


As most of you know, Master and I live in a house built in 1935 on a beautiful parcel of land here in east Texas. At one time this was known as the Piney Woods (some still call it thus) and was truly an evergreen forest. As man came and built, the woods have disappeared and there are hardly any forested areas any longer, let alone pine trees. If you are not from the States you may be unaware that another one of our many shortcomings is the terrible destruction of our natural surroundings. Even today, when a housing development or shopping area is built, the very first thing accomplished is called clear-cutting, which means the razing of the land including any trees on the property. If I stop to dwell on such despicable nonsense, I get truly depressed about the future of this planet. How utterly self-centered and shallow to determine we are more important than any other living being here simply because we are stronger and more powerful! Rant over. Back to my kinder, gentler original subject…

I like old things and try to maintain them when possible. My garden, though mostly neat and well-kept, has an air of untidiness and this is particularly so in my raised bed. At various times in the 16 years we’ve lived here, I’ve called this bed my herb garden, vegetable patch, flower bed, and gnome home. Right now it is wild with weeds and uncut grasses. I do have an enormous Rosemary plant which is probably 10 years old. Rosemary survives all but the hardest freezes. There are also several Rose of Sharon trees which have volunteered. The thing with Rose of Sharon plants (members of the Mallow family) is one never knows what color the flowers will be. This is because they have been specially bred and oftentimes what you get with volunteers from seeds is the original stock color. They are a hardy breed, springing up quickly and creating beautiful droopy-branched delicate trees if one cares to judiciously trim them once in awhile. I will say they do tend to “up and die” (Texas talk) on you out of the blue, seemingly for no reason at all! Here is a Rose of Sharon volunteer with a guest. Do you see it? It is a Cicada about to shed its skin. Cicadas are the insects which create that loud high-pitched clicking or humming noise. They live underground for 17 years and emerge as nymphs and after shedding their skin have wings and fly off.


Here we also get the terrifying-appearing Cicada-killer wasps which resemble giant hornets. They don’t sting nor attack humans, but make nests underground also and drag the cicadas there to feed their young. We have had swarms of them in our yard some summers – so bad that the postman was afraid to walk up our front path! They are nearly imposssible to kill unless you enjoy hitting them with an old tennis racquet as Master does for fun! Happily this seems to be a light year. I must say I like some garden statuary when placed nicely. I don’t care for the gaudy pink flamingos or the painted gnomes with red hats. Here’s more in my raised bed:

I have another large gnome behind the Rosemary bush. He is very special because buried underneath him lies my beloved longhair Chihuahua Cocoa Puff’s one and only wee puppy who died. Charley was a darling tiny lad and just beginning to toddle around on his stubby legs. His ears had not even begun to stand up yet as Chihuahua pups’ ears do at a certain age. We had guests over and I wanted to show the puppy to them. I picked him up out of his basket and he wriggled away from me and slipped out of my arms and fell to the floor. Even now it makes me cry to think of it and relive it all over. It was a weekend evening and our vet was closed so we took the tiny morsel of dog to the emergency vet. But he was so tiny and there was internal bleeding. He died that night. We went next morning and I wrapped his wee body in his favorite blanket and Master dug a hole in my garden where we sent him across the Rainbow Bridge. The gnome below stands guard over him…


Full Moon Tales

When the moon is gloriously full we (as humans are wont to do) are apt to try to describe the image we see upon the “face” or vista we view. Depending on the month or season, we might have a slightly different viewpoint. Sometimes the full moon does have that  appearance of a slightly happy smiling face. Other times, it seems you see a sort of side-view (even though the moon itself is full) of a scowling ghost. I determined at a young age that there are three different views of the full moon.

Of course there’s the old story of the moon being made of green cheese, which comes from an old proverb of a simpleton or fool who sees a reflection of the moon in water and mistakes it for a whole (round) green (new) cheese.

The moon and its pull on our tides has affected our lives almost primally. Hundreds of poems and songs have been written about the moon and the waxing and waning light it casts over us. “By the Light of the Silvery Moon” “Blue Moon of Kentucky” “Paper Moon” “Shine On Harvest Moon” “Blue Moon” “Moonshadow” and many many more newer songs have romanticized this cold hunk of rock orbiting around us.


This is my Moonflower, sp. datura on its vine. The flowers are about 4 to 6 inches in diameter, and truly one of the most romantic and engaging things you can have in a garden. They are easy to grow, requiring minimal care and water, being drought resistant. They are a vine with large heart-shaped leaves of a grey-green color. The blossoms open at dusk, unfurling from a stalk-like bloom, and have a lemony aroma, which can be rather heady if several are blooming at one time. The flowers wilt and close with the next-day’s heat of sun. After the blossom dies, if the flower was pollinated, a big spiky seed pod is formed. It grows and swells over several weeks and inside are hundreds of seeds to harvest for next year’s plants! The pods will eventually burst open (as mine are doing now) and you can gather the seeds, dry them, and place in bags to save for next spring.

My daughter had a children’s book of Japanese Fairy Tales which she loved because they were completely different from what she was used to. I was surprised that one tale told the story of The Bunny in the Moon. It is TRUE if you look carefully at the full moon from a different angle, you will notice what appears to be a rabbit with ears pointing out to the right, head to the left, and so on. So perhaps it is just the Western cultures that see the typical moon “face”?

Happy summer moon nights.

Water is precious


We (Master, our daughter and I) are going away tomorrow for 5 days to visit my mother-in-law. She just turned 95! She lives in Sunnyvale, a suburb or small town near San Jose, California. Which is about an hour south of San Francisco. For those of you unaware, California has been in a major drought for several years. I have two older brothers living in southern California in the greater Los Angeles area and it has been very bad there. No one is supposed to water their lawns any longer unless they use so-called gray water which is recycled from the rinse cycle of the washing machine or dishwasher. Many years ago my father (who was a district manager for the American Red Cross and thus very concerned with conservation and disaster preparedness) rigged up such a gray water system for our home when we lived in southern California.

Here in Texas we go from year to year having wet or dry years. Some years the local lakes (all man-made; east Texas has but one natural lake) have receded several feet and other years they are overflowing their banks. You simply never know what to expect.This year started out with a lovely cool wet spring but has turned into a very hot summer with no relief in sight.

I have many potted plants and baskets of flowering plants which need water every afternoon/evening. I worry with even just five days away, I will come home to so many dead and dying things in my pretty garden. There is no way to hydrate them even with our automatic pop-up sprinkler system. My own 90 year-old mother is no longer able to drop by and water all the plants daily. And we are not close to our neighbors…

I worry. And I will be thinking of watering my plants.

Tropical Dreams

We have a time-share in Maui we go to nearly every year. I know I am very, very priviliged. I used to live on Oahu, in Honolulu when I was a wee girl. My father was in the US Air Force and was stationed at Hickam Field. Going to any of the islands as an adult has always felt a bit like returning home. The air smells and feels different than it does any place else, I think. I love it on Maui and could move there easily, but Master has doubts. He worries about getting “island fever” and not having enough to do. I gently remind him we don’t actually “do” very much here. Maybe some day when we are very old and grey!

In the meantime, we do love traveling there when we can, and we daydream of Hawaii when we are not there. Here is our Hawaiian Plumeria plant (in a very large pot by our back door) which we only got to blossom once. It has bright pink flowers which smell heavenly.


And this gorgeous creature is my Anthurium, inside near the back door where it can catch some air from time-to-time, and the sun from the windows. Notice the leaves and blossom both are heart-shaped!  It looks so exotic but is not at all difficult to grow.


Along a hidden garden path…


Doesn’t the phrase “along a hidden garden path” fill you with tingly anticipation of what loveliness might lie beyond? Even before I enjoyed gardening I loved looking at gardening books and magazines, and enjoyed seeing other people’s gardens. One of the most beautiful gardens in the world must be the Butchart Garden in Vancouver, B.C. One day I will post photos of when Master and I took our daughter there a couple of years ago. There are too many hidden garden paths there!

The gate you see beyond the stones leads to the front yard where the Japanese Maples live. I got the stones at a silent art auction when my girl was attending elementary school – she graduated high school last year, so that is how long the paint has lasted! I believe I paid about $40 and I consider the money well-spent. One of the classes painted the stones and donated them to the auction. My daughter’s class donated  a wooden coffee table which was decorated with poems the children wrote. The poetry was painted on with calligraphy and then beads, paint, and other unique decor were added to create a wonderful one-of-a-kind masterpiece. It was covered with a sheet of glass to protect the artwork. One of my daughter’s classmate’s fathers won/bought it. I don’t know about him, however I have loved these funny, crude, happy little step-stones. Here is another view. (And a picture of my changing color Hydrangeas as well.)


Japanese Maples and other trees

Sir and I are tree lovers. I have always admired all types of trees from the majestic Redwoods in northern California and my beloved palms in southern California and Hawaii. When I attended UCLA there was a certain big tree, a very specific tree where my mother would meet me once in awhile when she was dropping by to pick me up, and I would always stand under this beautiful tree. I called it “my” tree. Here at our home we have about half an acre of land and it is on a slightly raised elevation unlike most of the neighborhood. Such that there are about three steps of concrete both side and front to enter our house. At the back we have a driveway which is on a little hill leading up.

My point is that whenever east Texas has extremely dry, even drought-like conditions, they’re generally followed by a couple of years of very wet weather. This is exceedingly tough on our 80+ year old oak trees on our property and in the area. Many in our community have toppled over at the base, and of course they are done for. It makes me want to cry. We have lost two in recent years, not by falling, but all leaves suddenly turning yellow then brown and they are dead. Our next-door neighbor has also lost a few, one just last week, which they cut down two days ago.

We do have itty-bitty volunteers which spring up everywhere, usually undesirable varieties and in the most unwelcome spots. Sometimes however, we get lucky. One of our Japanese Maples sends seeds everywhere in the front yard, and sometimes the mower simply misses them. We have three we salvaged from the yard, grew in pots, and transplanted back to the front yard near our two established front yard Maples. Eventually there will be a small grove of them. They are of varying ages, and protected by tomato cages currently.




One day Master and I were cleaning out a corner bed which is wrapped around one of our huge oak trees. We live on a corner, and this tree marks the corner of our property. The bed has always been rather a mess. I tried to plant azaleas in a ring around the tree one year (not a brilliant idea) but most have died. There are daffodils there (look really nice when they bloom in February – remember this is Texas) and tons of weeds because my lawn guys don’t weed to my dismay. Anyway, one day this past late spring we were weeding it, and I noticed a tiny evergreen tree hiding amongst the weeds. I asked Master if he could please try to dig it up and could we pot it and encourage it? So we did. I don’t yet know what kind it is, but it is flourishing. I love it. See below! Do you see the painted stepping stones in the corner of the photo? More on those in my next post!