FFF 12-14-18

Here we go.  Steps average = 4,593.  Worse than last week, better than the week before.  Sigh.  I didn’t have a big step day this last weekend so that doesn’t help.  I haven’t been to the gym this week at all. 

I have gotten on the scale some though, and am a bit dismayed to see that I’m back up to 158.  Yep.  I’ve zoomed from my happy low of 154, which only lasted about a minute, back up to 158.  How do I even do that?  Oh, um, Christmas candy and cornbread, apple fritters and Doritos, and lots of other deliciousness, that’s how. 

Ok, I can get back on track there.  Or I can just get fat and unhealthy again.  Lots of other stuff going on in the meantime, most of it moving me in a positive direction. 

AND I started a new BDSM story.  I’m not going to stress on whether or not I do it every day, but I’ve set a low-bar goal of 1,000 words/week.  It will be fun to see how it develops.  And I did hit that goal this week, so yay for that!

Tons of work to do today – and Xmas shopping still undone.  It’s going to be a light year this year, but that’s ok.  The kids will get what they need and some of what they want, and all will be well. Right?


A Random Post

Disclaimer:  This is a random post that doesn’t have anything to do with anything anyone else has posted.

One of the things I notice at the holidays is how hard it is when you don’t have money.  Actually it’s hard anytime.  We judge people based on financial factors. in all kinds of ways. 

I’m really lucky because I haven’t been in any real financial strain for quite a while, but I’m have more financial insecurity right now than I have in a while.  Plus, I have really struggled at times, so I know what it’s like.  There were times that I didn’t have a budget because I knew I didn’t actually make enough money to live on, so I knew I couldn’t come up with a budget I could live by so there wasn’t any point in making one.  

But I learned some really important things.  I learned that there are huge penalties for being poor.  Whether it’s late charges on bills or paying higher car insurance based on zip code, we are punished for being poor.   I could rant about how wrong this is, but not right now.

I learned that get we judged for not having money. We have a belief in this country that if you work hard you’ll succeed (financially.)  So if you’re not successful (financially), then you must not be working hard, or you must be doing something wrong.  That’s a big ole lie, but we like to believe it.  Because if it were true, then wealth would be merited and only lazy people would be poor.

Let me say it again.  That is a huge lie.  Most of us – myself included – are one serious medical illness away from bankruptcy.  But it is so profoundly embedded in our culture that there is something wrong with you if you’re not doing well financially that lots of hard-working people, who really know better, still carry a bunch of shame around that. 

THEN, because we pay lip service to the idea that money’s not important, those same people feel bad for feeling that way.

Do you hear that?  I’m feeling bad about not having money, and then I’m judging myself for feeling bad about not having money, like it’s not perfectly natural to feel that way.   When how I feel is perfectly justified and clearly the result of a materialistic world view of a capitalist society. 

And that’s the only part of this I really want to address.  If you are beating yourself up for feeling bad about not having money, please stop it.  Please be more compassionate with yourself.  What you’re doing is really, really hard.  It’s ok to acknowledge that.

That’s all.


A New Goal

Just popping in to say – I have a new goal.  I’m going to write this story living in my head, and I’m going to do it by writing at least 1,000 words every week until it’s done.

Now – those of you who have done that November Na-No-Wri-Mo thing are free to sneer at the idea of 1,000 words a week.  Granted, it’s a low bar.  At that rate, it will take the better part of a year for me to write a novella, which is my goal.  So be it.

I’m gonna do it.  I’m going to add it to my FFF check-in.  And I’m gonna do it.

After: Chapter 1

One Year Later…

She wouldn’t have remembered that this was the anniversary except for Facebook.   But the memory popped up on there, “One year ago today…” and there was the image she posted that day.  It read:

She stood in the storm 
and when the wind did not blow her way,
she adjusted her sails.

She smiled, thinking about her feelings the day her relationship with Don had ended, and the way her life had changed since then.  She had missed him more than she expected to, missed their friendship.  He had been a comfortable companion, and she was lonesome sometimes.

But when he messaged her about 6 months after he’d moved out, messaged her trying to start a conversation, she’d been cool and distant.    After all, they weren’t really friends anymore.  Friends didn’t sneak around and have romantic relationships behind your back, then up and leave you without warning.

Apparently the fires had cooled with Little Tootsie.  Don was lonesome.  Not happy.  He just wanted to see her, just wanted to talk.  She turned down three invitations – dinner, drinks, and coffee – before he told her that he had been hoping they could – how did he put it?  Take another shot at it?

No.  That was not happening.  And she’d told him so, gently but clearly.  And that had been the end of that.

She thought that had been the end of her connection to the world of kink too.  Well, not completely the end of her connection, because she still knew people involved in the lifestyle, Doms and subs and switches, furries and littles, people practicing all the variations of BDSM.  But now she wondered if she’d end up more involved than she ever had been.

She and her friend Connie had been having coffee last week when Connie said, “You’re still building up your coaching business, aren’t you?  Still taking new clients?”

“Yes,” Ada said, “I’m doing ok, but I’m always open to new clients.” 

“I think you ought to go talk to Josh at the club.”  “The club” was the local venue for kink play, also known as “the dungeon.”  Ada knew Josh, the owner, but not well.

“Talk to Josh?  For what?”

“Last night,” Connie said, glancing around the coffee shop to make sure no one was listening, “He was telling me that he’s having a lot of trouble with the staff.  Lots of arguments – just stupid stuff.  People on the day shift accusing the night shift of not doing their sidework, night shift complaining about the day shift not filling the salt shakers – just stupid stuff. 

Ada laughed, “You can’t have a day shift and a night shift without some of that.   How is this different?”

“I don’t know,” Connie said.  “I guess maybe there’s more to it than that.  All I know is what Josh was telling me last night.  He said he was thinking about hiring a mediator or something, someone to come in and get them to all start working together, like a team instead of like enemies.  I told him he needed a life coach, someone that understood people and communication styles and all that stuff you do.  In fact,” Connie looked at the table, picked up her spoon a bit nervously, then put it back down, “In fact, I might have said I had a friend who was just the person he needed.”

“You did what?” Ada asked.

Connie glanced back up at Ada, trying to gauge her friend’s reaction.  Was relieved to see Ada smile.

“Um, I told him I had a friend who could help him sort out his problems with the staff.  I told him you had lots of experience working with teams of people who weren’t getting along, and I told him that you were – well, I didn’t tell him you were a sub, but I told him you were familiar with the lifestyle, I said that part of it wouldn’t be an issue for you.” 

“Oh.  Oh, my.  Well, that’s certainly interesting.  And pretty cool, really.  Yeah, actually, that sounds like it would be blast.  The more Ada considered it, the more exciting the possibility sounded.  “Thanks, Connie, that’s awesome!  Did you give him my number, or what?”

“No,” Connie bit her lip, “I told him I’d talk to you and you’d call him.  I hope that was ok.”

“Sure – of course – yes!  I can do that.  Thanks for telling me about it – thanks for telling him about me.  That’s pretty cool, actually.  I’ll call him today.” 

Ada was intrigued, and a little bit excited.  It had been years since she’d been to the club, but just thinking about it brought back such rich memories.  The sound of leather landing with a THWAP.  The sights – naked flesh, spanking benches, the St Andrews cross at one end of the room.  Memories of the times she’d been tied to the cross, flogged.  The screams and moans and…

“Ada?”  Connie’s voice brought her back.  “Are you ok?”

Ada shook herself a bit.  She felt like she’d slipped into a dream for a second there.  Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.  But – but it sounded like fun.

“No, yes, I’m fine,” she said, realizing that Connie was waiting for her answer, looking at her anxiously.  “I just – gosh, it’s been a long time since I’ve even been in the dungeon.”

“Yeah,” Connie nodded.  “Seems like you quit going right after you met Don.”

“I did.  Don wasn’t interested in public play, or the community for that matter, and I was so happy with him at first that I didn’t even miss going to play parties and stuff.  Then when things changed between us, I just dealt with that, I didn’t even think about going back to the club.  Now, it’s been so long, I don’t even know if I’m submissive anymore.”

Connie shook her head, “I don’t think that ever changes.  It’s like a time bomb inside you, just waiting to get activated.”

Ada thought about that as she looked in the mirror.  She was almost ready for her first meeting with Josh.  As a life coach, wearing a business suit wasn’t part of the drill.  She could wear black skinny jeans and a tunic every day of the week if she wanted to.  But today she’d dressed up just a bit.  A black skirt and purple sweater, with her black boots.  At 61, she wasn’t wearing 3 inch heels anymore, but they were cute boots anyhow.  And purple was still her color.

She’d let her hair go gray, and it curled softly.  It was in the sweet spot of a perm, not too curly, not getting ragged and frizzy yet.  Maybe she’d dye it purple, or get some streaks anyhow, but for now, this worked.

Josh had sounded carefully interested on the phone.  Not ready to commit to anything – and of course not, why would he?  But interested in talking about what was going on at the club and what he thought he needed. 

So – car key.  Purse.  Jacket.  Bottle of water, and out the door.  “It will be interesting to see what happens,” Ada told herself, adding, as she usually did, “Whatever happens, it’s gonna be ok.”

 

After: A BDSM Fantasy

Introduction

He had left her.  Ada didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.  This was totally unexpected.  Not all bad, of course.  Not all bad.  Financially, she would be ok.  They didn’t have children together, so that wasn’t an issue.  Her children, both grown and on their own, might miss him at Christmas and birthday get togethers, but they could always befriend him if they wanted to.

She would miss the companionship.  He was pleasant to be around, and he had seemed to care about her.  She had even adapted to his medical issues, had gotten used to physical intimacy being rare.  There had been a couple of years when she had struggled with it. Tried to renew the intimacy, re-find some of the passion of the early days together.   And occasionally, it looked like it was going to work.  But in the long run, it didn’t, it petered out again, (a phrase that always made her giggle, and then feel embarrassed at being that silly.)

A 30 year old.  He had left her for some little tootsie half his age.  Apparently, the combination of wide-eyed hero worship and perky tits had heated his blood enough to inspire some passion. 

Ada had been mildly irritated to see their text message exchange, popping up on his phone unexpectedly.  She would have been open to him having an affair, would have been fine with an open relationship.  But Little Tootsie wanted more.  Ada shrugged.  Whatever.  Little Tootsie was welcome to him.

Ada was already 60, the passions that drove her in her 40s and 50s no longer seemed pressing.  She was going to be content living on her own.  With a few good friends, a cat for company at home, lots of interests, and a career she enjoyed, it would all be good. 



FFF 12-7

It’s Friday!  Yay!  Although – I have class all weekend.  So it’s not like I’m going into a celebratory weekend.  But still.

AND here’s some good news – my 7 day average for steps is 6,219!  That’s almost at my goal of 7,000, so all I have to do now is keep up the good work!  (Ok, easier said than done.  But theoretically…)

My daughter and I have started going to the gym together, which helps immensely.  Apparently neither one of us will do it on our own, but together, we make it happen.  So that’s cool.

I am not making my fortune in my coaching business yet, but that’s ok.  It’ll happen.  I think.  I hope.  Fingers crossed…

I haven’t gotten on the scale in a while, which is possibly a mistake.  Well, I say in a while – probably a week ago.  I was still hitting 157 at that point, so we’ll see.  Hoping I can head down again.  I think I’ll set a goal.  150 by – by March.  By the end of March.  That’s totally realistic.

Date night has still been happening pretty regularly around here.  When it doesn’t, it’s been my fault.  I was sick forever, it seemed like.  Then this week I’ve got class, which is isn’t over til 7 p.m. and is exhausting.  (And you know I’ m pretty much an in-bed-by-9 kind of girl.)

We’ve had some fun dinners out though and that’s been nice.  There haven’t been any spankings since the one I asked for.  And honestly, I don’t think he’s going to initiate any.  I think he’ll be glad to oblige me if I ask, but I don’t think he’s going to pursue any kind of dominance.

Sigh.

I’m actually pretty ok with that for the moment though.  Not sure why.  Maybe that post-menopausal lack of desire has finally kicked in for me?  Anyhow, for whatever reason, I don’t need to go looking for problems.  I guess I will coast along and play it by ear.  We are connecting better in terms of spending time together, so there’s that.  Maybe that’s all I needed.

 Hope your holiday season is going well!!



It’s Cookie Time!!

The 9th Annual Great On-line Cookie Exchange Extravaganza!!

This is one of my favorite events of the year.  Sharing recipes with this community of bloggers is always interesting and fun. I love to find a recipe to share and then run around and look at everyone else’s.

Traditionally, I like to share a recipe that super easy.  That’s because I’m a super basic cook/baker.  If the instructions are more than 3 or 4 paragraphs long, or if they involve fancy maneuvers (beyond chopping, mixing and pouring) then I get intimidated and don’t do it.  I excel at recipes like Chocolate Bark or Irish Cream that require little to no expertise.  (Those are my last two years’ entries!)

This year, I decided to challenge myself by finding  a dessert recipe that would be low carb enough for David and me to enjoy with a minimum of guilt.  For what it’s worth, there are lots of low carb recipes out there – even for sugar cookies.  (I’m about to talk nutritional facts here for a minute, skip on down to the recipe if you’re not interested.)

Of course, the low carb sugar cookies use things like almond flour and truvia or stevia, and I was concerned that they really wouldn’t be very good.  I’ve had some low carb cardboard before that was just not that yummy, and I don’t have time to do a lot of experimenting with baking.    So I discarded those.

I looked at some Baked Pear Halves, which were super low carb.  You just cut the pears in half, scoop out the core, and put in three cranberries and a few pecan pieces, drizzle with a little bit of raw honey, sprinkle with nutmeg and cinnamon, and bake them at 375 for 25-30 minutes.   That sounded pretty good, but the only thing Christmas-y about them was the cranberries, and I don’t even think I like them. 

I also looked at some low-carb eggnog.  That almost made the cut, but it involved almond milk, which I’m not crazy about, and whipping egg yolks, which is tricky.  Besides which, I can only find one of the beaters to my egg beater so I couldn’t test it.  (Don’t judge me, I moved twice in one year.)

Then I found this recipe.  Yogurt Berry Trifle.  And I remembered that I worked with this woman a long time ago who used to bring this to all the office potlucks we had.  It was my very favorite dessert, even back then when I was not worried about carbs or calories.  The red strawberries make it a little bit Christmas-y, and if you have a Christmas bowl, you could serve it in that, which would be a nice holiday touch. 

Anyhow, without further ado, here it is.

YOGURT BERRY TRIFLE

PREP TIME: 20 Minutes

Angel food cake cubes float on clouds of Greek nonfat yogurt and assorted berries…

Super yummy-ness.

Ingredients

•          4 CUPS FRESH SLICED STRAWBERRIES, OR ASSORTMENT OF BERRIES (RASPBERRIES, BLUEBERRIES, SLICED STRAWBERRIES)

•          2 TBSP. SUGAR

•          THE JUICE AND ZEST Of ONE NAVEL ORANGE (We love this orange twist)

•          4 CUPS CUBED ANGEL FOOD CAKE

•          3 CUPS GREEK NONFAT VANILLA YOGURT

Directions

1.         MIX TOGETHER THE BERRIES, SUGAR, AND THE JUICE AND ZEST OF ORANGE, TOSSING TO COAT. SET ASIDE FOR 15-20 MINUTES.

2.         IN ONE OF 6 WINE GLASSES OR GLASS BOWLS PLACE 1/3 CUP CAKE CUBES, 1/3 CUP BERRIES AND 1/4 CUP YOGURT, REPEAT PROCESS ENDING WITH FRUIT. REPEAT WITH THE REMAINING GLASSES. REFRIGERATE TRIFLES UNTIL READY TO SERVE. TOP WITH A MINT IF DESIRED.

ONE LARGE TRIFLE CAN BE MADE IF DESIRED.  FOR AN EXTRA FANCY TOUCH (AND A FEW MORE CARBS) YOU CAN DRIZZLE ORANGE LIQUEUR OR AMARETTO OVER THE ANGEL FOOD CAKE.  1.5 OUNCES OF AMARETTO ADDS ABOUT 3 CARBS PER SERVING.

Serves 6

Nutrition Per Serving:  141 Calories, 29 g carbs, 0.5 g fat, 6 g protein, 2 g fiber, 200 mg sodium, 22 g sugar

Now, if you’re not used to counting carbs, that can be confusing.  What about all those g’s of sugar?  What the deal on fiber?  I found this easy guide to counting carbs that brought it all into perspective…  here

I never thought I would be that low-carb recipe person, but life changes us in ways we never expected.  Hope you enjoy the trifle – and hope you enjoy looking at everyone else’s recipes!  Remember that we’re in lots of different time zones, so if someone hasn’t posted the first time you look, check back later.

Baker

Bogey and Bacall

Cat

DelFonte

Fondles

greengirl

Hermione

Jz

Katie

Kelly

Lindy

messymimi

Mrs. FeverO

ronnie

Ryan

Sassy