I'm one who felt that celebrating Osama's death was not something I would be happy with. "The scales of Justice" is a fiction and no one can balance them. Maybe his death was necessary for self-defence, but I cannot see it as a happy event.
In some ways, I felt sad. Sad that people were celebrating someone's death because he was dead, not because his life was worth celebrating. Somehow, it seemed very mean-spirited and ungodly to celebrate the death of someone who had forgotten the meaning of love. Instead I wanted to send him a prayer of love to help him recover, to know that someone cared for him, that someone wanted him to turn to his God, not away from Him.
Tuesday, May 03, 2011
It's all in the mind!
Every morning I walk into the town, a distance of just under a mile. Sometimes my feet feel stiff, and I seem to lack energy (I do reluctantly classify myself as an old man). The journey is something of a chore. But suddenly I spot, walking in front of me about 50 yards away, the back view of a young woman of pleasing proportions and interesting movement.. Miraculously, my tiredness vanishes, my feet are willing and I speed up so that I can overtake her and see if she is as pleasing from the front as she is from the back.
Even after passing her, I still have that burst of energy right to the end.
Though in theory I know that my thoughts and desires control my actions more directly and more effectively than my will, it always surprises me when it happens so obviously.
Even after passing her, I still have that burst of energy right to the end.
Though in theory I know that my thoughts and desires control my actions more directly and more effectively than my will, it always surprises me when it happens so obviously.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Shit happened
Mouse posted an account of her doings with one of the toilets in her house, and it reminded me of the last time we dealt with ours. I made a long comment on that and since it illuminates our life here in Philippines, I reproduce it as a post on my blog:
Spewing shit is nasty. Ours does that sometimes, then the pipe to the septic tank has to be cleaned out with a long length of hard plastic tubing. It comes back out of the pipe all shitty, you haven't to be afraid of handling shit and fortunately neither Rose nor I are afraid of it. Plumber, you are saying? Don't make me laugh.
The last time shit happened - just a few months ago - the clean-out didn't work, so we had to take the top off the septic tank and poke about in the inlet pipe, the configuration of which I had forgotten.
In the end, I decided more radical action was needed, so I cycled into town and asked the septic tank man ("Poso Negro", no idea what that means) to come and empty ours since it hasn't been emptied for 20 years, and he drove up baclwards with a big truck and a couple of strong young men who also were not shit-scared and the pump in the truck sucked it all up in about 30 minutes. Top back on, useless plastic tubing left in the hot sun to dry then coiled up, hands washed: back to normal.
Spewing shit is nasty. Ours does that sometimes, then the pipe to the septic tank has to be cleaned out with a long length of hard plastic tubing. It comes back out of the pipe all shitty, you haven't to be afraid of handling shit and fortunately neither Rose nor I are afraid of it. Plumber, you are saying? Don't make me laugh.
The last time shit happened - just a few months ago - the clean-out didn't work, so we had to take the top off the septic tank and poke about in the inlet pipe, the configuration of which I had forgotten.
In the end, I decided more radical action was needed, so I cycled into town and asked the septic tank man ("Poso Negro", no idea what that means) to come and empty ours since it hasn't been emptied for 20 years, and he drove up baclwards with a big truck and a couple of strong young men who also were not shit-scared and the pump in the truck sucked it all up in about 30 minutes. Top back on, useless plastic tubing left in the hot sun to dry then coiled up, hands washed: back to normal.
Morning housework
P.S. Here's an interesting little article - could be expanded I'm sure ...
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Today I went to read a blog I enjoy and the latest post told how she had to stop posting for a while and could not reveal the reason for fear it would identify her and her family.
I always feel bad when I think of how we have to disguise ourselves in order to live comfortably. That's why I don't disguise myself in my own blog. I have no reason to hide anything, although I understand that many believe they do.
I wonder what would happen if everyone lived their lives openly? No aliases? Would it be good, would life be even possible? What exactly would go wrong, if anything? Are there people who live their whole lives with no secrets, and if so, how does it go?
P.S. I'm not just talking about D/s here, I'm talking about the whole world, a world where Wikileaks would have no impact. I have often thought about this.
I wonder what would happen if everyone lived their lives openly? No aliases? Would it be good, would life be even possible? What exactly would go wrong, if anything? Are there people who live their whole lives with no secrets, and if so, how does it go?
P.S. I'm not just talking about D/s here, I'm talking about the whole world, a world where Wikileaks would have no impact. I have often thought about this.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Why am I so interested in blogs written by submissive women?
I an trying to understand my self and my marriage here, that's all. Anyone is welcome to add their comments.
I find some of the blogs written by submissive women fascinating. To me, those women have exceedingly attractive qualities. My wife has elements of submission: she asks what to do in many workaday situations; she consents to my spanking her whenever I wish, though she does not like it; she tells me where she is going, and if I ask, her purpose; she agrees to certain rules, such as no internet use before lunch; she asks what I would like in any situation, if it's not already known. In the twenty years we have been married, she has never refused sex, though occasionally has not been very co-operative. She does have two bad habits: collecting clutter and neglecting necessary housework; but she doesn't smoke, use bad language, spend money unthinkingly, or indulge expensive tastes. She has very useful healing gifts with which she can relieve the aches and pains of her friends and relatives.
Yet, somehow ... something seems missing. There's no passion, and she doesn't seem to want any.
She does not submit with her thoughts. Her heart does not belong to me. If I ask her what she is thinking (something I seldom do) I will not get a credible answer. She is very secretive with her mind. If she seems to be having difficult thoughts or feelings, she will never volunteer them to me. If I try to have a conversation about something, I will be doing 99% of the talking. I can wait for a long time for some input from her. Yet if she gets on the phone with a friend, she can talk almost non-stop for 45 minutes, and the friend may not be getting many words in edgeways.
Another blogger has recently quoted this poem by Paelus, found on the-iron-gate.com:
Surrender
Trust Me with your heart.
Place it in My hands,
To crush or caress.
Trust that I will not hurt you.
Give it to Me because you desire Me to possess it,
Not because it is My will.
Trust Me with your mind.
Place it in My hands, also,
To destroy or reshape.
Trust Me to mold it according to your needs
Not simply to suit My own purposes.
Trust Me with your body.
It too, place in My hands.
Mine, to batter or protect.
Trust Me to keep you safe
And to provide for you that which is needed
to ensure your happiness.
Trust Me with your very soul.
Place it in My hands, as well.
Lay it bare before Me, vulnerable to My will.
Trust that I will guide you safely through the darkness
protecting your interests at all times,
regardless of My desires.
Above all, trust Me with your complete and total surrender.
Trust that I will honor and cherish
your submission to Me
Trust that I will not abuse this gift
That you so lovingly give to Me.
I appreciate that this may appeal to some, but it's not something I need. If a woman asked to give me that degree of submission, I believe, if I liked her sufficiently and circumstances allowed, I would accept and do my best to fulfil the responsibility. But I prefer to watch and encourage people to grow in their own ways, not in some way that I have decided. I dislike giving people instructions more than once, and I certainly will not give instructions to do things which have no practical purpose, such that I often read about on some of these blogs. I don't like calling someone to account for sins of commission or omission. BDSM rôle play has very little attraction for me (I have tried it with my wife), only real-life, actual genuine situations and requirements interest me.
Well, that's all for the moment. I may continue this theme, especially if someone adds an insightful, relevant comment.
I find some of the blogs written by submissive women fascinating. To me, those women have exceedingly attractive qualities. My wife has elements of submission: she asks what to do in many workaday situations; she consents to my spanking her whenever I wish, though she does not like it; she tells me where she is going, and if I ask, her purpose; she agrees to certain rules, such as no internet use before lunch; she asks what I would like in any situation, if it's not already known. In the twenty years we have been married, she has never refused sex, though occasionally has not been very co-operative. She does have two bad habits: collecting clutter and neglecting necessary housework; but she doesn't smoke, use bad language, spend money unthinkingly, or indulge expensive tastes. She has very useful healing gifts with which she can relieve the aches and pains of her friends and relatives.
Yet, somehow ... something seems missing. There's no passion, and she doesn't seem to want any.
She does not submit with her thoughts. Her heart does not belong to me. If I ask her what she is thinking (something I seldom do) I will not get a credible answer. She is very secretive with her mind. If she seems to be having difficult thoughts or feelings, she will never volunteer them to me. If I try to have a conversation about something, I will be doing 99% of the talking. I can wait for a long time for some input from her. Yet if she gets on the phone with a friend, she can talk almost non-stop for 45 minutes, and the friend may not be getting many words in edgeways.
Another blogger has recently quoted this poem by Paelus, found on the-iron-gate.com:
Surrender
Trust Me with your heart.
Place it in My hands,
To crush or caress.
Trust that I will not hurt you.
Give it to Me because you desire Me to possess it,
Not because it is My will.
Trust Me with your mind.
Place it in My hands, also,
To destroy or reshape.
Trust Me to mold it according to your needs
Not simply to suit My own purposes.
Trust Me with your body.
It too, place in My hands.
Mine, to batter or protect.
Trust Me to keep you safe
And to provide for you that which is needed
to ensure your happiness.
Trust Me with your very soul.
Place it in My hands, as well.
Lay it bare before Me, vulnerable to My will.
Trust that I will guide you safely through the darkness
protecting your interests at all times,
regardless of My desires.
Above all, trust Me with your complete and total surrender.
Trust that I will honor and cherish
your submission to Me
Trust that I will not abuse this gift
That you so lovingly give to Me.
I appreciate that this may appeal to some, but it's not something I need. If a woman asked to give me that degree of submission, I believe, if I liked her sufficiently and circumstances allowed, I would accept and do my best to fulfil the responsibility. But I prefer to watch and encourage people to grow in their own ways, not in some way that I have decided. I dislike giving people instructions more than once, and I certainly will not give instructions to do things which have no practical purpose, such that I often read about on some of these blogs. I don't like calling someone to account for sins of commission or omission. BDSM rôle play has very little attraction for me (I have tried it with my wife), only real-life, actual genuine situations and requirements interest me.
Well, that's all for the moment. I may continue this theme, especially if someone adds an insightful, relevant comment.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
NOT a salve for sore butts
I have been making hot sauce today. We like "Tabasco" sauce but it's expensive at $2.40 a small bottle so I make our own.
I buy a handful of small chili peppers ( called harang here), break off the stalks and chop them up a bit. Put them in about 300 ml water and simmer for 30 minutes. Add more water to about 100 ml if there is less than that left after boiling.
I then put them in the blender and run for about 5 seconds, then force the result through a fine mesh coffee strainer. Discard what won't go through. Add vinegar enough to double the amount of filtrate, add 1/4 tsp salt and mix. Pour into capped jar and keep in refrigerator.
The resulting product is EXTREMELY potent. Do not let it near your eyes, or any other sensitive membrane such as prick or cunt. Wash your hands carefully with soap after finishing. Avoid rubbing your eyes. I guess it could be applied to the skin post- or even pre-spanking to intensify and prolong sting, but I take no responsibility for the reactions! Use only microscopic amounts for any purpose. For food, we just dip a teaspoon in, pull it out and rub the bottom on the fishcake or whatever.
I then put them in the blender and run for about 5 seconds, then force the result through a fine mesh coffee strainer. Discard what won't go through. Add vinegar enough to double the amount of filtrate, add 1/4 tsp salt and mix. Pour into capped jar and keep in refrigerator.
The resulting product is EXTREMELY potent. Do not let it near your eyes, or any other sensitive membrane such as prick or cunt. Wash your hands carefully with soap after finishing. Avoid rubbing your eyes. I guess it could be applied to the skin post- or even pre-spanking to intensify and prolong sting, but I take no responsibility for the reactions! Use only microscopic amounts for any purpose. For food, we just dip a teaspoon in, pull it out and rub the bottom on the fishcake or whatever.
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