Happy -sad Birthday


Today is my birthday. It’s also the day before my 91 year old mother moves “home” to California, to a senior independent living center. She’ll have a small two bedroom, two bath apartment-style unit in a very nice place where she will have meal service and anything else she could possibly need or want. My two older brothers live in the same city, less than fifteen minutes away. Her belongings are on that “pod” you see in my photo. It will arrive on April 1st and then the unpacking will begin.

I’m happy because in June, my husband and I will also be returning “home” after 19 1/2 years here. Our daughter will hopefully join us in the fall too. I’m more than a bit sad because not only have we been going through a lifetime of accumulated things, deciding what to keep, part with, donate, trash, etc., but for the first time, I will no longer actually have a home to go to where one or both of my parents live. I realize that this place has been her last real home. The place she is going to, while it will be many important things, will not be a home for any of her children or grandchildren. It’s true I have a home with my husband (and hope I always will) but there’s no substitute for the comforting feeling of knowing you can always go home when times are tough. I’m a grown woman and have been for many years, but whenever I drove or walked up to my parents’ ( or later my mother’s) house it was with the nearly indescribable emotionally secure knowledge that here I was safe and secure and all was well.

I don’t have that any longer.

Quiet and Silence


There is a big difference in quiet and silence. It’s true that by definition, both involve a lack of sound or noise. Some would say silence is golden and still others say in a very firm tone of voice, “Be QUIET!”

I’ve always enjoyed being quiet and being in quiet surroundings. Maybe all along I’ve had a tendency for migraine, and so preferred soft sounds and silence to loud harsh noises. Some of my favorite places to be are hiking alone or with my loved ones in nature, with nobody else around, either along the shore where ocean waves are gently lapping, or in the mountains where it is still and silent, aside from birds calling. I’ve never been a particularly talkative sort either. Even when I’m home alone I rarely listen to music. I treasure having the still quiet house to myself and enjoying my home, my things, and possibly having the pleasure and freedom to write.

Yet sometimes, Sir has the need to tell me to keep quiet and SOMETIMES out the ball gag must come. Thankfully, those times are rare.



Last East Texas Spring


Spring arrived exceedingly early this year, and it is my last one here in east Texas. When we moved here nearly exactly 19 years ago it was on our daughter’s first birthday. I didn’t want to move here. I didn’t want to move 1500 miles away from my mother and father, my two brothers, my sister-in-law and niece, and all my friends. I knew I would be miserable, and for the most part, I have been very unhappy. Texas is many things, but it is not California where I had lived since the third grade, it is not a liberal place, and it is very very hot and humid. It also doesn’t have an ocean breeze. I’ve been very blessed in that every place I’ve lived of memory: Hawaii, Virginia and California (although I was born in Washington D.C. and also briefly lived in Alabama) I’ve lived not too far from the ocean.

When we moved here Sir assured me we would be here for 5-10 years. (We moved for His career.) It will be 19+ years we’ve been here when we move in mid-June. I have made friends, done extensive volunteering in this community, and found the nicest, friendliest little congregation you could ever hope to be part of. I’ve also lost my dear dad and been through major spinal surgery and breast cancer treatment. Sir and I faced a major turning point in our relationship, lived apart for a few months, and through counseling and analysis, and renewing ourselves as a dedicated D/s couple, have emerged better and stronger than we were before.


The pretty plant above is my mother’s Forsythia tree in her back yard. She moved here to be with us after my father passed and I was going through my cancer treatments. Whenever I see these lovely yellow flowers which are one of the harbingers of spring, I think of my beautiful, strong mother who at 91 is also moving back home to California in two weeks. Springtime is one of the things I truly will miss about Texas because you don’t have the change of seasons in southern California. Here I know when I see the Tulip trees, then the daffodils, then the Redbud trees, followed by the Forsythia and Dogwoods, that spring has sprung. Here in east Texas our little town is known far and wide for azaleas. They are blooming now, and we have a three-week festival, when people come from all over to drive around the city to see the gorgeous display of flowers. It has been so unseasonably warm, they bloomed very early and the tourists shall miss the peak. Not only that, we had freakish rain storms which destroyed some of the early blooms, followed by dry winds which then knocked the early blossoms off! So much for my last spring in this town!


How do you serve?


A blogging friend wrote today about the roles in her household, and the ways in which she serves her Sir. She is very much dominant in the outside world, and submissive at home.  I can relate to many aspects of her life, as I once worked outside the home and had a demanding job which I enjoyed. Often the job required me to put in many hours of overtime to insure the work was done on time, and many times I was only comfortable doing the work myself because I knew (or felt) that I did it better than my coworkers. I always enjoyed working by myself rather than with others, and worked faster and better alone. One of my former supervisors once approached me and complimented me on my work, noting that she thought I was very much like her in that I worked well and better by myself. She had been observing me to do my evaluation. I never forgot what she said because it rang so true.

My friend wrote because of her health issues her Sir takes care of many household chores and duties. She noted what a lovely dominant act this was, and I agree. I can’t help but think how this would never happen in my own home. Not that I am wanting it to! I happen to thrive on acts of service, and I am a homebody. My Master has always been a very hard worker outside the home and when He walks through the door, I would not want Him to have to think of anything except that His home is a refuge for Him from the stresses of the outside workaday world . I want to have a clean organized home waiting for Him as long as I am able – with dinner (usually) waiting and the bed made and things neatened up. I like doing His laundry, ironing His shirts, even taking out our trash and doing all the little things to keep our little nest clean and running smoothly.

That’s not to say Sir does not pitch in. He offers to do the trash and recycling and loves walking the dogs with me and any gardening chores. He’s very much a nature boy. But way back in the early months of our marriage, before D/s was even a twinkle in my eyes, we discussed who was to be responsible for what. I agreed that the house was my responsibility. You see, even way back then, over 20 years ago, I knew, craved, and wanted to be submissive to my husband. I need these simple tasks – and others as well –  to keep me on track.