So kaya! Whatcha been up to lately?
Oh I am so glad you asked! *grins* I’ve been busy busy busy! Let me tell you all about it.
We’ve been creating an oasis on our back deck. The mosquitoes are terrible. Like.. terrible. There was no way to enjoy sitting outside without a screened in area. (And that 10′x12′ piece of carpet is in there!)
As it is, I look like a spotted cow from going fishing the other day but at least now we can sit out there, have a beer, watch the birds (the hummingbirds come right up. They don’t even care. It’s SO cool). Now I just need a laptop so I can keep up with all of you while I’m drinking coffee and watching the birds. Ah. The tragic life of a slave!
From the back- Look at the purty flower boxes Master bought me!
We’ve decided that we’re not going to get a garden in this year. (Boo! Hiss!) We just weren’t ready for the weird, inhuman weather up here. By the time it warmed up enough that we could get started on the beds, the growing season was in full swing already. We’d only gotten as far as nailing a few boards together when most people had planted, and we still have to finish building the beds, haul in dirt, get it fertilized- and then plant.
I didn’t want to rush it, half-assed putting up the raised beds and not have good dirt just so I could get seeds in the ground. So! We’ve decided to take the summer and take our time. We can build beds to our heart’s content, make them look really nice, probably haul in good dirt at half the price at the end of the season and then have the fall/winter to let the fertilizer get in good and by next spring, I will be ready.
In the meantime, I now have a use for those dozens of empty cat litter buckets that Master, for whatever reason, won’t let me throw in the garbage. (Hoarder tendencies. He haz them.)
I’m going to drill some holes in the bottoms, fill them up with potting soil, and have a ‘bucket garden’. A couple of tomato plants, maybe a cucumber if it’ll grow in a bucket.. and I don’t know what else. Whatever else I can make grow in an old cat litter container. Peppers probably. I’d love zuchinni but I tried that in a big pot last year and it didn’t grow for crap, so we’ll see.
So, I’m pretty disappointed to not have my garden this year, but I’m kinda stoked to see if I can make a go of it with plastic buckets. It’s all kinds of recycle and reuse and money saving and just tickles my domestic little soul. AND I expect to have some uber-neato raised beds by next summer!
I’ve scratched my gardening itch a tiny bit anyway by working outside with flowers and stuff. I’m not real knowledgable of flowers/flower beds, nor do I care enough to learn, but the front of the house desperately needed something done to it.
I went with white marble chips with potted flowers over trying to make it a full flower bed because of that aforementioned ignorance, and it turned out pretty decent. I didn’t think to take before pictures, but there was nothing but grass all the way up to the house.
I need Master to cut the edging so I can finish it. He seems to think I’m too uncoordinated to use the saw. He’s probably right. Anyway, so there are two of those beds in the front of the house and maybe, when/if that marble goes on sale toward the end of the season, I’ll swing it all the way around the side of the house too.
(Just an added note: Those bags of marble chips are fookin’ heavy. I had to two-hand drag them across the grass so I could dump them out. But when we bought them, Master was just tossing them in the back of the truck like they were nothing.
It solved the mystery of “why does it hurt so much when he smacks me on the ass?” Fucking powerhouse.)
I’m going to check into making my own compost bin. Every time I throw food scraps in the garbage I think about what a waste it is. I could so use it in the garden!
I don’t know what Master’s decided on regarding the chickens. I think he’s just not had the time or energy to build a coop. We’ve got all the wood, well, most of it anyway, now it’s getting it done. I really want them but I’m not gonna nag him about it. He’s a busy boy.
Course if he’d let me use the saw, I’d try building it myself. (hint hint)
I had kind of a moment of enjoyable, uber-service that pushed my boundaries a little bit the other day.
We’d gone fishing, and this time we took the boat. He doesn’t have a big boat by any means, just a small fishing boat, but it’s still a boat which means it has to actually get IN the water and leave the dry ground to be of any use.
I have this silly little water phobia where taking a shower is plenty enough water for me, tyvm.
I’d been doing good just getting close to the water’s edge when we went fishing before. It’s been nothing but his desire to get out into the middle of the lake that’s forced me to work through this phobia.
So, we went. And I got in the boat and he started away from shore and I was white-knuckle-gripping the seat and the farther away from shore we got the more panicky I felt. And angry. Angry panic. Angry at myself for being such a tool and for potentially ruining his enjoyment. Angry at him for just not letting me be with my stupid irrational fear of sharks and piranhas and alligators and drowning. And panic because.. fuck if I know why. Because I was going to DIE! Because there was a tiny bit of leftover rain water in the bottom of the boat and I was convinced there was a hole and we were sinking and I wouldn’t be able to swim and I would die.
Then he stopped, really not too far away from shore- maybe 20 feet if that. May as well have been 20 miles, though. He asked me if I was okay and I said yes. He asked me if I was crying and I lied and said no and then angrily fisted the tears off my face.
He asked me if I wanted to go back.
Every single fiber of my being screamed YES. Fucking christ YES.
And I said no.
Because… fishing was what he wanted to do. Being out there in the boat was what he wanted to do. Being a slave, to me, is about more than beatings and blow jobs. It’s more than fetching water when I’m tired. It IS doing what I don’t want to do just because he wants to do it. No matter what that thing is.
It’s not that I was then cured of my water fears. Just, at that moment, pleasing him took precedence over panic.
Once I’d calmed myself down enough to peer over the side, I realize that not only could I see the bottom (the lake is crystal clear. It’s *gorgeous*), we were in probably about 5 feet of water- at most. I may not be able to swim back should we sink- but I could certainly walk back, ffs.
That “uber-service moment” I mentioned? Master hadn’t put the motor on the boat. So I rowed him around the edge of the lake while he lounged back in his chair and fished. He’d look over at me and grin, relaxed, comfortable, make some comment about his “rowing cunt” or whatever and direct me where to go. “Left paddle, cunt. Now, right. No, no, left. More left. Both together, cunt. Good. Stop here a minute.”
Also? Rowing a fishing boat is hard work.
Also? I caught a fish. And he didn’t. He was pwned.
Jes is doing good. Pregnancy wise anyway. She’s dropped so… anytime now I guess. I told her she’d better get her room clean and start getting things ready, bag packed, bottles washed, clothes and diapers set up and ready. She’s only just over two weeks from her due date.
I can’t wait. We’ve had an explosion of pink in the house. Every baby item we have is pink. The clothes are pink. The blankets are pink. We live pink.
Master is understandably disturbed.
She rearended somebody over the weekend. Grrs. Not a major accident, slight damage to the front of her car, and who knows how much to their car. She says none but I wasn’t there and I don’t know if I can believe her.
And who knows if they’ll start crying whiplash or whatever.
I just can’t wait to see what the fall out from that is going to be. I’m sure it’ll raise our rates and then with adding Am on? I may have to get a job just to pay the new insurance premiums.
When she called to tell us what had happened, Master got on the phone and told her to calm down, everything was fine, what mattered was that nobody was hurt and that we love her. Which, yanno, how sweet is that? He’s a doll.
A big pink doll.
I bet he falls hopelessly in love with this baby.
Okay. I gotta go run errands. Y’all try not to have nightmares about forks. *snicker*