Ladies and Ladies

Quilts and Dogs.

Yesterday, I had a touch of the flu... I have a feeling I won't be eating chili verde for some time.... today, however, I felt a bit better, and went along with The Sisterwife to her Relief Society (a group of Mormon women in each Church area who do, well, relief work). I've done this before with other friends, I like it, to be honest. There is no dividing line of faith in helping others, and my hands and willingness to contribute time are as welcome as any ones.

We worked on quilts for those who are in hard times this year, and those people are many in our area as they are any where else. One thing I'll say for Utah, you do not see people wandering the streets in need. The LDS Church is so very wrong in so many of it's political beliefs (I will not go into religious beliefs) but, they do step up and help out to those in need. I know far too many who have been without food, housing, furniture, money...and one call allows them no payback but time to others in the same condition. I've canned, made up hygiene kits (basic toothbrush, soap, etc), put together dresses for refugee camps (I do not care where you live, who you are, every little girl in the world deserves a dress she can twirl in, something sweet in colours if her culture doesn't allow a twirl.... no matter how difficult life is, they should have something to smile about), made teddy bears... you get the idea. I've done it with these women who sit and talk and laugh and bring food for each other.

I was in charge of finishing off the edges, me and my trusty sewing machine. Ahhh, something you didn't know about me, I sew! I used to make HRH's dresses when she was a little one, and all of the FMDKids costumes for schools and everything else. So, I sewed my fingers off, The SisterWife tied off with yarn, we had quilt frames everywhere, kids dashing about, women's voices low over their work. Most of them do this all the time, and our work was going to a good cause. Our quilts would keep children and adults warm in this cold climate, these cold times. I know I keep my house at 50F with my door shut and a safe space heater so I am okay. I can sorta pay my heating.... again, I am in long sleeves and sweat pants and I'm cold at times.

We were giving help for people to keep going.

I left there, heading home, and stopped at the Animal Shelter, where my friend AH works... she's the, well, dog catcher in town. We met when the person who used to have her job killed our dog illegally, and her soft voiced question to me of "Would you like to speak to my Captain?" was met with my low shaking voice saying, "Well, unless his name is Jesus Fucking Christ, and he can raise the fucking dead, I'm not sure what good that's going to do me, do you??"

From that encounter, the former man was fired, a new law was passed and we obtained Douglass.

I also had a new friend.

She's on her last stretch on this job... five years of putting down dogs and cats when you love animals is too much. The usual stint on the job is two years. I said, "Let's go look at the animals!" and she said, "I can't go look at a group I have to put down tomorrow, I can't do it anymore.... I feed them with my eyes shut these days." She's doing her best to get a new job somewhere else, and the only thing that is easily obtainable is....animal control.

She and JB sat outside with me, they chain smoked and twitched, both women chatting away, good friends on the job, both flicking their eyes over at one dog in the outside pen they'd managed to save for a few months, but, her lease was up. She was this lanky lurcher, a dog that would be snapped up in the UK, ignored here.

"We'll flip to see who puts her down tomorrow." said JB. "It's come to that." Around that point, a woman pulled up with a box, inside a cat she'd found. With the woman inside filling out paperwork, the two flipped a coin to put down a cat to make room for this one.

I won't say which one it was... she was ashen when she came back. "We've both started Xanax and Lunesta." she said. " Come on, tell us about New York, act out the parts..."

And I did, making an ass of myself, exaggerating stories.... they laughed.

A call came in, a cop had shot a spaniel, who, he said, attacked him. "FUCK!" both said. "Fuck."

JB was off work by then, AH picked up keys, laid a tarp in the back of the truck.... "I hate the washing out of the truck later." We all did the hug and cheek kiss and drove our separate ways....

Warmth and death....

I don't have to tell you which one left a better feeling in my heart.




UPDATE:

From an email I received late last night... and please note, AH weighs around 135 lbs...

Well, the dead cocker spaniel ended up being a 200lb rotweiller and the owner was a hysterical drunk 300lb woman who at one time actually fainted in my arms.

It was a blood bath from start to finish. At some point I will have to act out for you the details that followed but let us suffice to say that

...I know how the Romans conquered the known world. Their war dogs (rots) CANNOT be breached by any weapon known to modern man let alone some poor celtic tribes tools 2,000yrs ago...I had to use my teeth at one point to try to tear a hole in the dogs skin BECAUSE WE'D ALREADY BROKEN EVERY BLADE AND SAW WE HAD AT THE SHELTER TRYING TO CUT THRU HIS SKIN. (he wasn't dead, and they had to insert an IV)

Three Word Wednesday~KIDS, DON'T READ THIS!!

Thom at Three Word Wednesday is making this difficult to be PG.

Our words? Blush, tender and quiver.... we should change the site name to Erotic R' Us.

What Lies Beneath

I usually pick at the tissue paper with my fingertips, breath held, teeth nibbling my lower lip, my entire body quivers until I see that first glimpse of colour folded against itself. I tend to stay with the same tones--black or cream-- love how the silk, in those hues, looks against the ivory of my skin, which is pale for a brunette.... my veins show through on my neck, my inner arms, my thighs, breasts... the silk accentuates this, making me feel delicate.

I have a ritual, lying the beautiful lingerie on my quilt, walking quietly around the room, admiring it, loving the idea it's already been hand laundered, ready for me to wear. As I pass, I touch where the silk will rest, blush.

Long bath, rose-scented salts, I let my hands glide over my skin once again, dream of his tenderness when he removes the delicate bits of silk in the next room. Where he removes my inhibitions, too - and leaves me open, willing and wanting from him all I need, all I can give.

I dry and in the coolness, goosebumps ripple as I lift the bra and slip it on, hook it, adjusting cups, straps and let fingertips drift over the front, feel the dainty lightness of the material. The tap short knickers follow, and settled on my hips, I feel very 30s, very perfect and inviting - whether he takes them off or not.

I stand - on the verge of going over the edge, flushed- brought here by the perfection of these overpriced bits of silk and hooks I have sent from France. I skimp elsewhere for the simple pleasure to open my drawer, see matched sets, scented by roses from my garden. Worked into complete sensual bliss by grazing my palm over the shirt or sweater I wear, feel the silk pressed against my skin, my hardened nipples. I am as content leaving these bits on, as I am when they are removed - and he knows this. Feeling them against his skin, as it slides against mine, makes me breathless. He knows this, and uses them as foreplay, a prelude to our lovemaking.

Skin warmed, I leave the house, head for Ralph's, simple chores, life - there is a pleasurable swing to my hips... beneath my jeans, my cotton sweater.... the $400 of silk undergarments... and resist temptation, the make the detour, slowly peel off my clothing in his office, a preview of things to come. I resist, maneuver the cart, an aimless smile on my lips.

It really is better to give than receive, right?

Storm

I am not a gadget person, I kill them with my magic powers.

I have the iPod, protected now with not one, but TWO cases and never held by me for longer than a second or two.

I just saw something that made me whimper in desire... moan in anticipation...wheeze in need.

This....The Blackberry Storm. They even give you a site to test drive it... like I'm going to do that. AHAHAHAHA! RTFM? ME?? *snicker*

A phone, you say? A PHONE???

Oh, not a phone, not a phone, but, a PHONE. A Blackberry, with a touch screen with bounceback buttons, a sleek case, lots of programs and shit that I have no idea how to work, 3G (whatever that is), the internet (I live on this... I am never bored anymore), a slidey screen thingy, buttons and pretty colours.

Oh, yes, it will be mine. I will kill it soon after I have it in my hands, however... you should see my sad new one. It doesn't look new.

It will... be mine.

A Tale of Two Films

Two films last night, two.

One, The Dutchess, doesn't deserve a link, the names of stars, photos, nuttin'. It was the longest two hours of my life. It made me weep. It made me moan. It made me complain. It made me eat too much chocolate and popcorn. It made me glare at Sisterwife a bunch.

Entire plot? Kirea Knightly close ups with damp eyes, wigs, lavish costumes, wine, BABY, Kira, wigs, costumes, wine BABY, rinse, repeat. One good line, "Please put out the fire in Her Grace's hair." One line. One.

I came home, worn out with my complaining.

There, on cable was a brilliant indie film, The Quiet... not a single bad moment in the entire film, not a single wasted line, frame of film, shot, amazingly wonderful score (how can you lose with Beethoven?) good plot, nice twists, harsh words (To Dot: "Oh, your mother was my best friend, and so beautiful. I only slept with one man, my husband. She was such a slut!") A girl who is deaf mute moves in with her godparents after her father dies... her mother died when she was seven. The family is not what it seems, things skitter in the dark, lies, betrayals, and Dot moves quietly, taking it all in... over it all, the perfection of Beethoven's piano sonatas play weaving the story together. Everyone uses Dot as a confessional, because she cannot hear their words, nor share them if she did... she's the perfect person to abuse.

Rent The Quiet. Run from The Dutchess.


BABY.

Three Word Wednesday~Hope, Gravity, Nuance

Read the Small Print

She sat, huddled and trembling on the exam table, paper gown grasped in her right hand... the left one absently rubbing a piece of hair in front of her ear.

So wrapped in thought, she startled when Dr. Silvers walked back in, reading her chart, professionally tanned face setting off his blue white teeth, his lab coat the exact same shade of Arctic ice. She'd liked him from the start, his office out in the 'burbs were in shades of warm peach, his staff that didn't look like the usual plastic surgery staffs, all pictureperfect, but, normal woman who made you feel it was okay to look the way you did, and okay to want to change...he believed in hiring his family as staff, and, he did his operations in his little suite of rooms in the back. All of those little things helped keep his prices affordable, he told her.

"Lila, if you'll just stand, I can show you what is going to happen today." he said, holding out his rather freakishly soft hand to her nail bitten one.

Barely touching her gown, he pulled it aside, gazing at what gravity and a 220 lb weight loss had done to her breasts, her stomach, her arms, thighs, bottom. She thought here was a quick intake of breath, a look of, "This is what makes the Baby Jesus cry." ....more a nuance that an actual look. She had to be wrong. The only expressions he'd ever shown before was his usual, well, smile or a furrowing of his brow... at least she thought that's what he was doing, the Botox did remove the actual furrowing capability...the expression he'd worn when she told him of her life as a heavy woman. He had never seen her naked before, said there was no need, simply quoted her a flat fee based on the work he said she'd want done to perfect her body, remove all that was left hanging around (here he gave a kind of a giggle) after the two years of dieting.

He worked quickly, his black pen drawing circles and arrows...sometimes pulling out the drooping flesh to make notes. Scribbling on the chart in code, muttering, taking digital photos and finally announcing, "Okay! When we are done today, you'll have a tummy tuck, lipo on your outer thighs and hips, we'll take excess skin from your upper arms and inner thighs, a 'butt' lift, remove those chins, pull your face up, do an upper and lower eye lift, take some fat from your butt and put it in your lips. I'll make those 44 Longs into nice tight 36D's (again with the giggle), reduce your waist, do a few hair plugs, fix your nose and pin down that one ear. A little Botox here and there, and I'll whiten your teeth for free! Piece O'Cake! Any questions, Miss Turner?"

She whispered no, not wanting the tears to fall, grabbing the gown together again, and thought ahead, to how she'd look, how this would change her life... the sacrifices made, the money saved, the years and years of diets, ridicule, believing one day... one day. Her un-Botox'd face was a smile, at him, at life, a huge smile, full of hope.

In all of her prep work, all of the saving, the double jobs, the reading about the long recovery, the pain... the one thing she didn't do was check state laws, which stated anyone who had an MD could obtain a license for plastic surgery without doing a residency. So it was, the last thoughts she'd have were why the medical diplomas for her doctor, hanging on the walls she was wheeled past on her way to the tiny, cramped back operating room, were for Podiatry.

I Have Asperger's...Are You Sure 6 Is Enough??

I swore I'd not do meme's, and I've kept that... still, I like Vinny, so...

1. Link to the person that tagged you
2. Post the rules on your blog
3. Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself
4. Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs
5. Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website



1. I can tear a phone book in half.
2. I once threatened to stab an actor in the eye with a sharp pencil, then denied it to his agent.
3. My Confirmation name is Rita. Yeah.
4. I watch the Sci-Fi channel quite a bit.
5. Sometimes, when I start laughing, I can't stop, especially when my boys egg me on.
6. I demonstrated and sold dulcimers at one time.


I'm not going to tag anyone, sorry!

We Resume Our Regularly Scheduled Postings....

Apologies.

There are times we face a bigass black hole, and we have to withdraw to deal with it... I'm pretty much the little engine that could, but, this last glitch along with those that have come along over the last few years, well... this little engine ran out of steam.

I'm back on track, grateful for all who believed in me when I forgot to believe in me.


Thanks, as always.