Mar 212017
 

I love storms. Every time it rains I have all the windows open and am most often sitting the doorway to the outside, watching it, listening to it, smelling and connecting as much as I can. I am surprised I haven’t lost my love of storms.

My tempest.

From solitude to engulfed in booms – the varying patterns of this shift are frightful at times.

There’s no place to go in a thunderstorm to escape it; I can push myself further out into the storm or take very little comfort in the return a house that offers no solace. It is not silent and it cannot be drowned out yelling for it to stop.

A thunderstorm is loud, powerful, demands attention, to be heard.

I seek warmth amid the warning winds: want to be touched and possessed, feel the gliding against my body; with lightning as a companion I light up. My body and my mind crave that delight of visual and utterance.

Where otherwise there may be soft silence, I feel awake and ignited with the booming thunder, blind except for the brief flashes of lightning.

The thunder rolls and sometimes a small shake in the ground can even be perceived in the ground. I can look up and see nothing. Rain is sensed, smelled in the distance, felt in the oppressive weight in the air. It covers all my senses, makes my skin damp. It signals a downpour, body feels just a drop or two and then suddenly water pours from the sky.  I can feel myself getting soaked, the lightning exposing far more than the tips of the trees swaying violently, little hidden amid storm. The rain pounds down to the earth, becomes a very deep awareness that fills every sense, the thunder creates a shudder and a groan. My heartbeat will pound to the eruption. The crepuscular does not confuse me, it is a language heard and felt through every nerve, rendered violent but mesmerized with dark erotic fantasies. I am left humble by how it provokes a physical reaction, perceived darkness that demands attention far more than shadowed whispers. I will feel goose bumps along my skin, and my own body tremors slightly. Still, the thundered rolls, but it becomes a background noise so far away, more of a relaxing soothing background sound.

I like things that take, that demand, that awaken, that can be felt everywhere; I like the signal of what’s to come, the roar of it as its there, and the echo that it leaves behind.

Mar 172017
 

Trapped like a once beautiful bird in a cage that since wilted. Once I viewed you so shiny, like a toy or jewel worthy of my attention, but your glittery gold has rusted and stained. In a full forest, you’re obscured. Quietude instead demanding for my fingertips to stroke and thrum the golden streaked body.

You were once Spring with sweet blossoms perfumed, once exposed naked in the heat, Fall with the vibrancy of a last desperate attempt at life, and now are barren of gifted illusions and fool’s paradise; fruitless. You leave me cold. Indifferent.

What happened to you?

Passionless.

Surely it wasn’t I, an exception of enchantment passing seasons of beauty? Soft sustenance and opalescence that we procreated?

You don’t thirst for permanence that is almost forgotten, buried deeply, by me, do you?

How sad, tragic, pathetic, worthless is that? How could you hang just to drop from the weight?

You should not be depleted as such. Empty. You seem to have gone down in flames whereas the heat and ashes have absolved me like a phoenix flying the coop. You were a torch, a spark, glowing vibrant with life now ebbed, dull, chilled, monotonous.

Where are you now?

I care not to search; I lost you and there is nothing to lead me back.

Mar 072017
 

date_tmi

1. Which of these are you most often guilty of in a relationship:
a. jealousy
b. not apologizing
c. not keeping your word
d. guilt trips

2. Which of the following behaviors would annoy you most in a partner.
a. fishing for compliments by verbalizing self-doubt
b. passive-aggressive behavior
c. usually forgets important dates i.e., birthday, anniversary
d. making you feel guilty when spending time with friends

3. Consider you are looking for a mate, rank these traits in order of importance, with 1 being most important, and 7 being least important.
4___ Kindness
1___ Honesty
6___ Ambitious
3___ Confidence
2___ Reliable
7___ Assertive
5___ Sense of Humor

4. Score! You exchanged numbers with a hottie. Now you: (pick one)
a. Wait for a week, see if that person calls you first.
b. Call the next day if not sooner.
c. Call and text incessantly. Let them know they’ve made an impression.
d. You’d never call. What if you get rejected?

5. How did you handle your last relationship break up?
a. You’ve never been in a relationship before. The timing’s never been right.
b. You went out and got drunk every night, until you forgot everything.
c. You went out on a massive amount of date, even with people you knew you had no interest, making sure to date a new face every night.
d. You felt bad and cried, but bounced back in a couple of days.

Bonus: Would you take a holiday all by yourself, at the ‘spur of the moment’? Why or Why not? Where would you go?

I’m very much a spur of the moment kinda gal, and yes I would take a vacation all by myself. I might meet some very cool people, or I could just get some writing done (something I’ve done very little of recently). 

————

How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

Happy TMI Tuesday!

Feb 192017
 

Febraury Photofest

Wicked WednesdaySometimes when I think that a mark blemishes my looks or skin, I need to remind myself that the marks that fill me are stamps that shaped who I am. I am by no means covered in them, most scars are barely visible or tiny.

Ankle scar: knife fighting. Once upon a time I had little man syndrome (little dog preferable?). I wanted to be tough. I learned how to throw knives at a very young age, but I didn’t stop there. Why not try to fight someone with them in close quarters? What was I thinking? Luckily for me, only my ankle and tiny little scar on my wrist show the evidence of this stupidity.

Thigh scars:  I’ve talked quite a bit about the idiotic time I let my ex husband cut me within weeks of leaving me, and how they are now undeniably scars. Hopefully they’ll fade, if nothing else to the barely detectable and far more numerous slivers created from sword fighting. I graduated from knife fighting into a more civilized sparring. I loved this, and taught for three years. A boyfriend taught me, and renaissance competitions furthered my love and skill. This wasn’t fencing, and we very often didn’t wear armor of any kind. And yes, a few of us went to the hospital for that poor decision, but it never altered my love for it, nor did I want to be encumbered by material that wouldn’t allow me to move the way I needed to. My sword of choice was a saber in close combat as the sword was cut down and balanced to be short (though I could fight against a sword of any size). My advantage: being one of the few females at these events, and wearing a tiny tank top, I’d bow to my opponent, and as they gazed at my breasts, I’d go in for their neck (never to slice, but to win). Thankfully, my thighs were only ever scratched, the sword wounds were never ragged, and the faint scars have gradually diminished to practically nothing.

 

Stretch marks: kids. Really the plight of most stretch marks for many women. I evaded them completely with my eldest daughter, my son decided to take my hips and made them even wider, my ass to become art of skin scribbles, small but visible ones on my breasts from his consistent nursing, and one deep mark going up my stomach (which thankfully can be hidden by jeans and just barely peeking out of a bikini bottom). Yeah, he created havoc, but even if the first child did, I would still have them; they are the greatest joy and worth leaving a lasting impression upon my skin – it simply echoes how they imprinted on my heart.

 

Ring finger: saving sister. Now, details are fuzzy on who is at fault, but one of my sisters got stuck on top of the monkey bars in our backyard. Being the eldest, and quick thinking intellect that I was, I searched for some way to save her. A wooden table was stashed in the corner, and I dragged it over to the jungle gym, putting it directly under the monkey bars and coached my sister down. Proud of my accomplishment in saving her life, I went to tell our parents. I reached for the back door and screamed when I saw nothing but blood pouring down my hand. Details after that are fuzzy, until a nurse bandaged me up. I had split the skin from tip to bottom of the inside of my finger somehow on the wood. Still have the scar that reminds me that I am a life saver to a sister.

 

Then there’s the less permanent marks…

Bruises days after The Wanderer took a belt to my bottom

Marks on my ass and thighs: a recent love of mine with spanking. I will now have red hand marks on my ass from time to time, and occasionally he will break the skin. Or a cane’s stripes will raise up in angry red and feel so soothed from a caress. Less common but far more of a long term reminder I can feel is the crop or a belt – I hate the sting, the way the stiff material lashes out at my skin, but the pain creates an instant head space that focuses me on the present, that makes my body attune to everything that touches it from that point forward, that makes pleasure all the more heightened afterwards. The most lasting impression I’ve experiences so far still comes from fists, however, as after so many orgasms I adore the thud against my bottom and thighs, the impact sinking deep into muscles that for days after remind me of our time together every time I sit, lay down, sometimes even walk.

Finger bruises bring back memories of sexier times: I tend to get them from sex. Perhaps his fingers grip my body to maneuver it, to yank, push, or pull to where he wants me next- so hot when he takes control. Perhaps he is clutching at my thighs as they are spread and holding me down as his tongue delves between my lips, or his cock slides deep into my body; perhaps he is pounding into me so hard he is fastening me to the mattress so that we don’t end up on the floor. Perhaps he is slowly teasing me and I am squirming and arching and trying to end the pleasurable torture.

Rope marks: if anyone has been reading the blog for any amount of time, are a certain love of mine. I love to trace my fingers along the paths that rope can leave, feel the deep tracks from spun threads where I was bound.

Feb 122017
 

Happy Valentine's DaySo I looked up on my own blog “Valentine” to see how I’ve reflected on this over the years. It’s been a mix: happy with photo prompts (pictured here) but my writing shows how I overall view the holiday. In one piece of fiction, I write about how the character breaks up with their partners the day before – which is something I used to do in my youth. In another piece of fiction I wrote about how a character was done being second when they should have been first – sadly something that echoed why I didn’t write anything related to Valentine’s Day last year.

Last year, my husband turned me (and family) away hours before we were to be reunited after months of choosing separation to help with transitions and failed attempts at polyamory. I just recently tweeted about how I haven’t felt the same since, and it’s very true. But even when we were married, I didn’t see him much for Valentine’s Day – the all-too demanding price of being a military spouse.

This year, I was given an idea by a coworker of how to celebrate Valentine’s Day. Mr. Texas would rather have the romantic couple’s night, but he’s on board and supporting me as he does best.

My table is set and beautiful and Texas is going to make a nice dinner. We are raising some teenagers, and two of them are special needs and may not have a relationship for some time. I don’t want anyone to feel alone when there are people around who do love them – and I would not have survived last year if I didn’t have the support of friends and family. So, we embracing Valentine’s Day message of love but directing it at people who matter most – family and those that support you best. I even invited some single relatives.

I’ve already warned the kids that we are going to go around the table and say nice things about each other so they better be prepared (a challenge for one or two, it seems). It’s a day to show appreciation, a day to sit down with each other (though family dinners are rather important to me) and express the positives.Wicked Wednesday
Febraury Photofest

Jan 302017
 

Wicked Wednesday

A post about the last three months choosing my favorite or most revealing photos and posts and giving some background information; also listing accomplishments. I’m also going to be showcasing a blogger that I absolute adore each month with some favorite postings of theirs (hopefully I can showcase at least six bloggers this year as last year that’s at least what I got to).

November:

“After seeing the body of my sister, I was desperate to be held, to be fucked, to forget for at least moments the day’s events. I texted a friend, David… I was passed around and cuddled with a few friends as we watched the shows – have I mentioned enough how much I miss these people? There’s something that I found in this area that I’m just not finding in my new state.” – Supportive Friends

At the end of October, my vibrant and brilliant sis, A, died unexpectedly. I traveled back to where I just moved away from to deal with her death and was reminded just how fortunate I was to have such great friends. When dealing with soul crushing loss, it’s important to have a support system, and for the days that I was there and face to face with my grief, I was lucky to be surrounded by friends. I also showed growth in that I reached out to have sex in a more comfortable setting than a one night stand by contacting a friend.

Photo: This month I sorted through so many of my sister’s photos and tried to show case just how beautiful and creative she was as a celebration to what she had already done and never shown.

Accomplishment: Memories, a writing found in drafts that my sister wrote, and honored in Wicked Wednesday’s roundup.

An Often Read Blogger: Girl on the Net.  She’s capable of turning me on, of ranting about some things that should be tackled, of making my laugh, of inspiring my own writing.  Don’t Tell Me Sucking Dick is Easy and it’s brilliantly angry. I am insulted that someone would ever claim that fellatio is easy or simple. She writes A Story About Hard Fucking due to confidence. There is nothing hotter than the attitude my partner has that she describes in such sexy detail. Where are all the pervy women,  about not only where they are (everywhere), and not as fantasy-like as the question may insinuate, but why they may be hard to find. Girl on the Net takes on a position on something debated about in a way only she can: Faking Orgasms isn’t as Bad as You Think.  Sometimes in faking an orgasm, I have pushed myself to have a real one. And I love when he cums. A hot read is why she likes Butt Plugs. Then there’s such a fascinating story of worthless tokens which have a wealth of meaning; an excellent way to handle conflicts.

December:

  • “I viewed my sister’s body and can no longer deny that she is dead;
  • I cried hysterically as I laid my head next to hers;
  • I stroked her glorious hair (she had amazing hair);
  • I say a tentative goodbye (I know there’s many more);
  • I comforted my father – a man that rarely even expresses emotions;
  • I bemoaned why there would even be a viewing – how morbid!
  • I get drunk at lunch as my father keeps ordering more and more drinks.
  • I go back to the bed that she used to sleep in and take a long nap.
  • My friends hear about my day and graciously kidnapped me,
  • We head towards a kink event which was at a swinger’s club,
  • I am distracted by the wonderful performances of my skilled friends,
  • I am kissed and cuddled by David,
  • I have incredibly public sex with David,
  • I ride the sybian,
  • He rides the sybian.
  • And then I said goodbye to friends and he took me back to my sister’s house,
  • where during the ride home I tell him for the first time I just lost my sister and he reacted very compassionately” – David Holds Me

David and I had a busy night following an incredibly stressful day. I know that sometimes I turn to sex the way others turn to a drug, but I am learning my own limitations with doing so. I still get out of comfort zones and do things I normally wouldn’t when truly stress as a form of escape, but am seeking more supportive environments to do so. And let me mention again that I am so lucky to have such amazing friends.

:Photo: I’ve been learning to play with a violet wand.

Accomplishment: Writing About It All, honored in Wicked Wednesday’s roundup

An Often Read Blogger: A Slave to MasterI’m going to do this blogger a huge disservice in not really quoting any of her more spectacular posts. I also don’t comment all that often (of course, recently I don’t comment much at all on anyone). But she writes regularly, honestly, and often in such a hot manner. I can’t always envision myself in her situations, she has a different mindset than I do, but that is what makes her spectacular.

January: 

“It’s a scary step.

I still fight the feeling that I need to stand on my own, that I need to find myself amid all this chaotic life changing loss, that I am relying on another so heavily.

I have always been the reliable one, the one that my family and even my ex husband relied on, the stead fast one, always known who I was, what I wanted, and how to get there.

I’ve no clue anymore. My heart is shattered in so many pieces I am shocked that anyone wants to hold the slivers and be in my broken company.

Maybe, even if I’m doing this wrong or for the wrong reasons, it’s what is right for right now.

And maybe it’s time I set aside my worry and allow Mr. Texas to soothe my vulnerability with love (and yes, even opening myself up to another potential loss).” – Crash

January saw me acknowledging how important Mr. Texas is in my life and opening myself up to be vulnerable again. It also was a final acceptance that I have no clue about my own life right now and I feel utterly lost. I hope I find myself again – I’m not all bad.

:Photo

Accomplishment: Kayla Lords mentioned my post Pavlov’s Music in her weekly newsletter. 

An Often Read Blogger: Graydancer.Naiia BoundThis is also the first person to ever tie me, so I may slightly prejudice. Ever have a passion or dream and follow it as a career? Graydancer has. He has many different blogs, a podcast, travels extensively to present an unusual concept: an unconference at both Ropenspace with Murphy Blue, and GRUE, not to mention all the other classes/events/communities he participates or teaches at. I especially like to read him at  Love. Life. Practice…  A guest presenter, Naiia Bound,  that you can find at his blog discusses some hard topics like Kink and Depression, and growing older in kink and dealing with some of the complications that brings.

 

Jan 262017
 

https://www.flickr.com/photos/martekristineo/5502801613

I agree with those that feel that a safe word is not needed, that no and stop should be exactly that.

I also agree with those that feel that a safe word is needed, that they don’t want their no and stop to always mean that.

I also realized that I need to be clear where I stand. I used to be the second option – I wanted the struggle, my instinct when something hurts is to say no and stop, but I can continue and I want my partner to push me.

I learned a very hard lesson in the complications of this negotiated use of safe words when I felt like I was forced anally, but he expected me to use my safe word.

“First and foremost, while my safeword did not occur to me, I did have one. My ex truly expected me to use it… I believe that he expected me to safeword if I felt that strongly about “no” after talking to him months later. And I truly did not even think about using a safeword, felt like my “no” and “stop” were enough; after all – just the day prior we discussed needing the safeword before a scene. I didn’t use a safeword with him just having sex with him – never felt that was needed.

Perhaps this is a horrible complication with using safewords, when stop and no don’t always mean stop and no.” – Consent with Anal

My ex and I did discuss safe words before every scene that we felt it was needed – and only the scenes that included impact (or our one time doing consensual non consent). Even in rope I didn’t use a safe word but gave a time that I needed out (even if it was immediately). So I understand why I did not think to safe word, we were just having sex, after all. I also understand why he felt that I would safe word – I do have and use my safe word and he trusted me in that.

So now I’m on the fence with safe words. I still use them, and I’ve been trying to get Mr. Texas to use them. I really like the “yellow” for change up or no further, and the “red” for can’t take anymore. I also, especially when I top him, realize that I am dealing with a man not used to coloring at all, so I listen to his body language,  his words, his noises, and his actions and proceed cautiously, stopping far before he colors. If I force him to color, I warn him ahead of time that is my intent and do only one action (like bite down) until he remembers to use it.

Again, though, I don’t believe that I should only stop when he uses his safe word. If I am playing to the edge it is with someone I trust and who trusts me, someone that I have played with many times before, someone that will know my tells and listen to my body language the same way that I do theirs.

My ex husband should have known mine, should have listened. But we are equally to blame for that scenario.

I still want my no and stop to not mean no and stop when I feel like struggling or fighting back, it is so hot to me that I will be held down or my cries will be ignored. It is also reassuring to me that my safe word will be respected, that I have a safe word.

But I need to start being more consistent with using my safe word, even if I am just having sex, because just having sex is very easily turned into something else once we’re naked and having fun. I need to not view sex as an activity isolated from BDSM, because it is not, and it rarely ever is just sex with me.

I can easily view how I am inconsistent: The Wanderer would never have to worry about me not coloring and using my safe word – we have a clear boundary of no intercourse and a partnership that’s foundation is BDSM. Neither would anyone that I played with in a dungeon or other kink event. Mr. Texas, however, may have to worry if he pushed for something I didn’t want to do – and that’s incredibly unfair to him; but I view us as having a sexual relationship first, exploring each other in BDSM second – and BDSM being new to him especially he needs to read other cues and listen to words (to an extent – he already has figured out my no rarely means no but I like the protest).

I am confusing as hell about using my own safe word and that isn’t fair to my sexual partner. I have learned that I cannot rely, either, on my partner and I consistently using a safe word only in certain scenes (like impact or consensual non consent).

It is up to me to clearly define and use my safe word to my partners, and to be consistent.

Jan 132017
 

An item on my 101 things list, an ABC and 123 of me:

A – affectionate, amorphous, amateur

B – beguiled, bittersweet, blogger, brazen

C – creative, careless, civil

D – damaged, decisive, deflated, devilish, disheveled, dirty, disgruntled, dreamer

E – energetic, emotional, eager, educated, excited

F – fanciful, fair, fearful, firstborn, flexible, focused

G – gutsy, grieving, gluttonous, gracious, gloomy, generous, gentle

H – handful, halting, hardworking, haphazard, headstrong

I – impulsive, independent, irritable, immoral, intimate, intense, injured, idealistic

J – just, jaded, jubiliant

K – kind, kinky, knowledgeable

L – lover, lecherous, labelled, layered, little

M – muted, maternal, merciful, minx, maddening

N – naughty and nice, neglectful, nagging, naive, nerdy, needy

O – open-minded, opinionated, offbeat

P – playful, passionate, patronizing, pale, petulant

Q – quaint, qualified, quick, quirky

R – reactive, radiant, ready, real, reckless, readable

S – spontaneous, silly, sexual, sheepish, slippery

T – taboo, trying, tired, trustful, terrified, talkative

U – uncensored, unsteady

V –  visceral, voluptuous, vulnerable, vibrant, vocal

W – willful, weakened, wet, wild, wanderlust, warm, wanting

X – XXXVIII

Y – yielding, yearning, youthful

Z – zany, zippy

0 – grandparents still alive

1 – vehicle

2 – children

3 – other children that are like my own

4 – my favorite time to wake up

5 – random sex hook ups during slutfest

6 – my birth month

7 – about the time that I become absolutely worthless in energy

8 – the age when the sexual abuse stopped for me

9 – how many memes that I’ve participated in that have since retired

Jan 032017
 

happynewyear_gif

1. How is your year going?

My actual last year has been utter hell, the past three days of the year 2017 have been alright – mostly sleeping off time differences and jet lag. 
2. Did you go out on NYE or have a New Year’s day celebration?

Neither, though I guess you could consider I had a New Year’s day celebration. I grabbed all the kiddos in the family and gave them their Christmas presents and presents from my travels. Mr. Texas made a beautiful dinner and we had our first family holiday celebration. It was incredibly nice, even though I was exhausted from getting off a plane the night prior. 
3. Ahh yes, those pesky New Year’s Resolutions. How did you do with your 2016 NY resolutions–did you keep them?

Many of my 2016 goals were with my husband, who then divorced me at the start of the year. So no, I didn’t meet my goals but I’m uncaring of that. I don’t have any current goals – something that it is shocking if you know me at all. I suppose I should at least work on my 101 things
4. Year 2017, are you carrying over any resolutions from 2016? What?

My 101 things list is the only thing that I will carry over. However, hopefully I’ll feel more like myself and start making goals to accomplish again. 
5. What new experiences are you planning to have or hoping to have in 2017?

I am hoping to buy a house, apply for another Master’s Degree, go on a family vacation with Mr. Texas, go on a vacation with The Wanderer, survive the year, raise confident, independent, and healthy children. 

Bonus: Did you see fireworks on New Year’s eve? (Take that anyway you want :-p )

So many, at least in my mind. After not seeing Mr. Texas for weeks, he kept me awake and flying high on orgasms off and on for 18 hours. We really only slowed down when it was time for the family dinner and present time. 

How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

Dec 192016
 
I wrote up something and then saw Rebel’s prompt, so thought I’d extend my original writing:
12 Gifts I’ve received this year from The Wanderer:
  1.  crop that scared me but ended up being very cool
  2.  hands that are so capable of the pleasure/pain I crave
  3.  beautiful purple rope that positively sparkles
  4.  an experience with clothespins that I still find hot
  5.  lobster lunch, a walk on the beach, and the considerate mannerisms that came from it
  6. an hour where I explored and rubbed and kissed and caressed my lover’s body
  7.  a playground with a gorgeous view for three days
  8.  sharing our times with words
  9.  knife to add to our growing collective pile of kinky times
  10.  candles to go along with the knife
  11.  texts messages to strengthen our relationship
  12. ORGASMS!!
12 Glorious moments this year with Mr. Texas: 
  1. corrupting a vanilla
  2. bruises and beatings
  3. patience, understanding, consideration
  4. having him accept me as I am
  5. painting the bedroom a color I love
  6. giving me sense of family with blending our kids
  7. rarely making coffee, and hot tub time every evening
  8. a high sex drive to match my own
  9. a person to fall asleep next to every night
  10. home made meals
  11. going to kink events with him
  12. ORGASMS!!
12 Reasons to be Grateful this year, despite how terrible it truly was:
  1. Family
  2. The two men mentioned here
  3. My children
  4. My brother in law for taking such good care of my sissy
  5. Friends
  6. Kink events
  7. Sex
  8. Kinky times in private (or sometimes semi-private)
  9. Commenters on here
  10. Having a space to vent/write/exhale/share
  11. A high paying job
  12. Surviving
12 Ways to move on in the next year: 
  1. Moving in with Mr. Texas
  2. Buying my own house for us
  3. Seeing The Wanderer again
  4. Pushing The Wanderer to go on a vacation with me
  5. Traveling
  6. Pursuing another Master’s Degree
  7. Yoga
  8. Dancing
  9. Getting my son on the ski slopes
  10. Visiting with friends and family
  11. Explore more kinks
  12. Experiences new experiences

*I don’t know if what I’m doing is polyamory, frankly I don’t see any need to put a title on it. Mr. Texas recently commented that it seems as though I am in a relationship with two, and indeed it does to me too, though perhaps in a different way than what he views. I just know that I am surviving this horrible year one day at a time, and sometimes one minute at a time.

I am grateful for everyone in my life, even the people here who read.

Rebel, especially: thank you for being my biggest supporter and always reassuring me on this space that I am allowed to be all the crazy things that I am and think. 

Happy Holidays! May your lists be grand, your body pleased, your heart full, and your soul hopeful. 

**Also written for Exhibit Unadorned’s Christmas prompts, set the song of “12 Days of Christmas”.

Wicked Wednesday