Awash as we all are in spanking content, I’ve been compelled to talk/write/think about *other* things – occasionally – of late. (Yes, Virginia, there are Other Things.) So, rather than talk to myself, or put a complete stop to Michael’s progress by talking his head off, I’ve decided to begin sharing rather mundane things here more often.
Anyone with any sense, or anything at ALL better to do, will choose to turn their attentions elsewhere right about now.
Still with me? (Bored, huh?)
Let’s start off with a little home improvement update..
THIS :
..is the current state of my house. As you can see, it’s a bit like an episode of Dexter. (And no, VBB, I haven’t found someone whose blood splashes farther than yours.) What started as an ongoing water line issue has turned into an all-out Major Pain in the Ass, replete with fully-plastic-ed living area and garage-accessible bathroom.
I’m not kidding. They removed the WALL downstairs, between the garage and water closet. Over the course of the next week, there’ll be about a dozen sweaty men parading around my living room. About average, come to think of it..
Since I’m sure you’re dying to know what the cats think about all this commotion : they think it sucks.
In other news, we almost went on a short vacation last week. About seventeen miles outside of Las Vegas proper, my car decided that it’d rather stop at a little biker bar on the side of the road in the middle of the desert. (Which, in retrospect, was better than nothing. They had a nice shady porch.) Something about the transmission, according to the nice man in the triple a tow truck. So the car is undergoing some medical intervention and I’m driving a rental, which is, in my opinion, ugly.
All this fun stuff would drive some people nuts. Lucky for us, we thrive on a Good Challenge. So, the place will be getting a new coat of paint and the car will be getting a new tummy or something, and we will be getting lots of spanking done in the meantime…upstairs.
In other parts of the world: My family are having a mini-reunion of sorts. In the South, a family reunion includes Actual Family, as well as in-laws, out-laws, and people who nobody’s really related to but are still referenced as “Aunt Sue”, “Uncle Bill”, or “Cousin Andy”, because their daddy and your daddy worked together in the oil fields and they’re Like Family. Or the kids went to school together and they all started calling you “Mom” because they figured out that that was the way to get you to feed and house them every weekend, and now, twenty-plus years later, they still won’t go away.
I won’t be attending the get-together. I’d love to, mostly, but between spanking and remodeling I’m bound to Las Vegas for the remainder of the summer. I’ve requested that they stand out in the rain (it’s always raining there) in my stead. Of course, when it rains you have to look out (even more) for snakes, but it’s a small price to pay for the moisture. My auntie calls up to tell me all about how her flowers are in raging full bloom and the grass needs cutting every five days or so and the tomatoes are as big as your head, and it’s so humid you can cut the air with a butter knife. She’s bragging, in her Southern auntie way, and it works – until I remind her that we don’t have mosquitoes here. Since where I come from you can practically saddle those things and ride them, that usually trumps all. I miss the flowers, and the food, but I do NOT miss the bugs, or the snakes, or the overly-familiar raccoons.
Now I will entertain you with what is, in my estimation, one of the cutest things ever. (It’s cats.)
(Try to ignore the not-so-subliminal message to purchase the advertised brand of cat food. It’s bad for your kitties.)
– Dana
