Because, just because

Bit bored at the moment. Wrote a nice little story earlier, did a couple of things and yet I still have a bit of time. Yesterday was my hardest day (physically) since my accident. I feel fine but I’m also aware that overdoing it today might be unwise as I’ve yet to learn what my own limitations anew. So, my boredom led to me looking in on folks I haven’t checked in on for quite awhile. One had the following posted. I copied it here without attribution on purpose as I’ve seen it many places but have no clue as to it’s origin.

I’ve spoken of the difference between dominant and domineering many times but I agree with this overall and it never hurts to hear the message again. Let me know if there are questions.

 

“A dominant man will not start off with, ‘Bow down on your knees upon receipt of my message!’ There seems to be many complaints from women about this kind of ploy as first introduction, and this is reason alone to ‘block n’ move on.’ (I would advise ladies to use this tactic often and liberally rather than engage in argument or flame wars…life is too short). Ignore the Insta-Dom.

 

– A dominant man will not seem ‘desperate’ for your attention. Getting dates or getting laid is not his problem; he can find women on kink sites, at work, or in the grocery store. He knows women, and women are drawn to him. Many women, kink or vanilla, prefer a man who is take-charge both in the bedroom and in life. If a ‘Dom’ becomes frantic, anxious, or despairing because you don’t write him back every other hour, chances are he has a hard time with the fairer sex. The good news is desperation is easy to spot.

 

– A dominant man most often will be successful, a maverick, or at least happy in his chosen profession. If he has had some bad luck in his past, it will be fleeting, for he will strive relentlessly to place his universe back into the order mandatory to his existence. If your suitor languishes in poverty, unemployment for years, or hates his job, most likely his dominance is merely a cover-up to appease his lack of success. Though he may not be the millionaire, look for the man who is happy, confident, unique, and/or successful in his chosen endeavour.

 

– A dominant man will be very interested in you, and not just your sexual needs (though they will certainly get his attention). He will see you as a puzzle, and desire to make sense of that puzzle. The dominant guy loves challenge and that in essence is why so many submissives find disillusion in the vanilla world; most men do not seek challenge in sensuality, they fear it. Submissive women are the most challenging of lovers for they have great fantasy. Their fantasies often require a man to move far outside normal gestures requiring both skill and creativity. How you think about a myriad of criterion will be of great interest to him.

 

– A dominant man is likely to be damn good in the sack. Most men have their hands full with straight-up vanilla sex. The dominant man has either mastered or has no interest in such elementary play, at least not all the time. Making a woman orgasm many times has left him bereft of sport, so he now seeks a woman who will challenge him on other levels. The dominant guy is going to have a good understanding of the female anatomy, and will persist in finding the keys to your body and mind. He will have done his homework and already experimented in real-time on many lovers. He will be a bit of the Don Juan, if not Don himself; not a womaniser per se, but certainly sexually advanced.

 

– A dominant man may have all the accoutrement of kink (the whips, chains, and whatnot), but he will not need them to be dominant. A whisper, a word, a look, a swagger, and a touch are the essence of his talent. Confidence is his weapon of choice, not bragging about his dungeon. Those who tout their toys too highly might well be lacking in other departments.

 

– A dominant man will be very cautious in selecting you because he knows you have great desires, hopes, and dreams, and it is he that has to live up to them. Above all things he will wish to be good for you. He attempts to choose wisely but may at first make many mistakes in his choices as he finds his way.

 

– A dominant man will make mistakes and have no fear admitting them. The dominant guy knows he is not All Knowing, for he is human. A guy who believes he never makes mistakes or does not admit to them with good cheer is most likely not dominant.

 

– A dominant man will never send you a cock shot at first greeting and it is highly unlikely that he’ll have one on his profile.

 

– A dominant man will not beg you for naked photographs. In fact, he won’t beg for anything. He will simply wait till you’re dying to send him your naughty pictures unsolicited and accept them with lordly composure (or a rock hard-on, depending on the photo).

 

– A dominant man will never lie about being married or already having a girlfriend. If he’s married to vanilla, he’ll simply say so. If he’s dating vanilla, he’ll break up with her before venturing in with another (less he’s doing a poly thing and brings her along, or in an open relationship). The dominant guy is straightforward, will wish to be plain about his true desires and needs, and if he is attached, will be forthcoming with that information. If he’s cheating on his vanilla wife, he will say so. He made his choice and is going for it.

 

– A dominant man won’t lie about much, though he surely will keep some of his thoughts from you. A Dom who feels swallowing golden showers to be right up your alley may well know telling you straight out might have you running for cover. This is not in itself lying, he’s just taking the appropriate steps first and at the speed he thinks you can absorb them (he may well discard such thoughts as he gets to know you; he will discard his thoughts often). The lying ‘dom’ will have an agenda that has no bearing on your needs. The real dominant guy wants no part of someone for whom he cannot be good. A man who attempts to get with a woman he cannot handle or vice versa is desperate.

 

– A dominant man will not be heavy handed in his approach. He will be skilled at drawing you in, opening you up, making you feel at ease or on edge (depending on his tastes). His efforts will seem effortless; even aloof at times. He will grow on you. Capture you. Enlighten you and make things seem clear that may have been once blurry. You will feel better about yourself when communicating with him (even if your desire is to live in debasement!). Only an impostor will try to tear you down in order to raise himself to higher ground. The dominate gets off by watching you soar, not fall. In essence, taking on a submissive is both invigorating and empowering yet also a humbling experience. He may err constantly, particularly if he is new. Yet he will always, always strive to be better, and though longs and seeks challenge, he will avoid that which he knows he cannot handle, or will in some near future be unable to handle. It may take time but he will understand his own limits as well as his woman’s. A submissive is a truckload of challenge (ask their ex-vanilla lovers), and so the dominant man needs you like he needs air. He wants your worship not simply for worship sake but because he has gone beyond the call of the norm, ventured into the realm of risk, and passing across the dangerous abyss where footing is treacherous, hopefully breaks into the sunshine of success offering you something glorious. THAT alone is why he seeks your worship; because he has earned it and deserves it.

If a man does not seek risk and challenge in his life, if he wishes worship without venturing his ego, if he does not persist continually toward excellence in handling a woman as he does in many things, he is not a dominant man.”

 

Grumpy Fairytale

Well now, I haven’t told y’all a story in a while have I? Thought about it some yesterday and more today. To be fair, you have been good lately and there is plenty of time before lights out I suppose. But, never forget, fables, fairytales and folklore are all ways of passing along wisdom. As such, they typically contain a moral. Good kids get them before bedtime so they can ponder something other than the Boogie Man. Something like how tomorrow can be better than today. Comfortable? Can I start?

I wrote about Grumpy recently. The bit about the gender issue surprised me. It surprised me because I spend a good bit of time on maintenance. Big difference between working on something all day and dropping it off at a dealership. How do you not notice he/she issue in a ten hour day working on something? Before we make my head hurt this close to bedtime though, let’s move on.

Yesterday was another round of that maintenance. She got new shocks (again), a new steering dampner (again), new sway bar bushings and new endlinks. Sort of esoteric maintenance I suppose, things of the sort few do and fewer still do at regular intervals. But, oh my, what a difference a day makes. Today she stayed straight (steering dampner) with little effort, soaked up bumps (shocks) and cornered (sway bar bits) so much flatter. All that effort pays off in a much tighter truck and a much better ride over time. Throw in that reduced tire wear offsets the cost of the parts and you have a sweet deal indeed.

(There are bedtime stories for boys you know. Knights, swords, dragons, diesels and such are used but the moral remains. Now, just keep listening.)

This work makes her sound like a basket case but that’s really not fair. A gentleman bought her as his retirement gift to himself. For years he had skimped and saved. He drove beat up fourth hand rides, worked hard and raised a family. With that family gone and a career done, he picked out his chariot for the years ahead. He actually spent his last few months working by day and looking at new trucks in the evenings. He found the one and bought it. It brought him to his new life as my neighbor a couple of months later. Sadly though his retirement was a litany of health issues and his planned adventures in that truck were largely unmet. Never the less, he loved her. He took care of her to the best of his knowledge. When he passed she came to live on my side of the road. (That transition is a story unto itself I suppose.) She was 15 to the day when I brought her in. I spent the next month going over her needs one at a time.

It’s nice to have toys if you know the costs. A Ferrari takes more to maintain than a Ford. But, what you get out of the relationship is proportional to what you put in. Lots of folks want a big truck but few understand their needs. Throw a diesel in it and you add another layer of commitment. Sure, it can run a million miles with ease IF you do your part. The oil changes that he did religiously were a nice start but after a 100k, she needed more. That’s where I came into the picture and I stayed in the picture.

Every part of her gets attention. Saggy seats got new cushions, filters got added or upgraded. The computer got a boost so she could think better and act faster. It was dozens of little, overlooked things that needed attention. That wondrous first love fades as time takes away luster and age robs youthful agility. Seeing the way others act always reminds me of this. They complain about maintenance costs and overlook things that should get attention. Heck, there is a book full of good advice, tips and a maintenance chart telling them what to do and when but they don’t read it! They get disillusioned with their partner and start looking for a new one. It never crosses their mind that a new relationship will fail like the last simply because they failed to do their part. They didn’t accept the responsibility that came with the keys.

My work has paid dividends on many fronts. I know I can rely on Grumpy. Mighty good partner there but it’s that way for a reason. I’ve done a lot of little things regularly to ensure a good relationship. The truck rides better, gets better mileage, pulls harder and runs cooler at 200k than it did at a 100. It’s now a pleasure to be around. There isn’t a given act that made the difference however. It has been a series of small things done regularly over time that has brought her back to the glory she once had. Had I sat back and expected her to be perfect I might have become quite disillusioned by now. I might even be looking for something younger, something a bit shinier. Instead I’ve got a partner I trust, a partner that I know and understand inside and out. That care and knowledge is key to my satisfaction and commitment.

Now you know why my nails are a bit discolored today and my arms are scratched but did you see the moral within your bedtime story?

Lights out, sleep well…

Thinking back

Well now, aren’t I just the little chatterbox as of late. Empty house, high heat, high humidity, work somewhat done and a clear head so why not?

Went out to get on my itty-bitty mower this evening and go play once the sun started to hide behind the trees. Headed over to my neighbor’s yard to mow. She’s got about an acre of back yard and it’s too hot for her to mow safely at her age so I go play. Do a good deed, enjoy the sunset and let my brain cell wander for awhile. Saw that the next apple tree (of hers) to come in was getting close and so I swung by to scoop up an apple off of the ground. Not bad, still green but not bad. I accidentally got off line mowing and accidentally ended up over there for another apple a couple of times. The lines look a bit odd but I like apples and I mow for free so….

Riding and eating had me thinking about my grandparents and that lifestyle. Mowing meant shut the gate at the drive and opening the one to the field. When you saw that back then it just meant folks had the cows “taking care of the grass”. After a day or so you could kind’a’sorta call the yard cut. Grandad wouldn’t know what to say if he saw me mowing on my toy. Times change I suppose.

The apples had me thinking of Grandma. She spent a lot of time in that big kitchen sitting by the cookstove or the table working on food for today, tomorrow, next month and next winter. It was a big, old house, oldest in the county. A fascinating bit of architecture as it was never updated. Two hundred years old and still the way it was built. No closets, no water, no nothing! But, it was a history lesson. The only one left standing in the nation according to experts. Time never really moved on there, some things you could count on.

One reliable thing was Grandma’s advice. Being a Grandma is very serious work you see. You really have to keep an eye on those grandkids and make sure they’re on the straight and narrow, especially the oldest. See, as the oldest you have to assume that they’re learning with you. Everything comes with a warning. My youngest cousin could play with a running chainsaw when he was three for no other reasons than they had gotten tired of worrying about us. Being the oldest meant that I got all the warnings that she could think of shouted out those open windows at me.

“Don’t run with an open knife.”

“Don’t forget to bring in water.”

“Don’t tie up girls for fun.”

“Careful with the axe.”

“Mind the bull.”

The warning on my mind tonight was about apples. Loved them then too. I’d go up to the barn, do whatever and walk back by the trees on the way back to the house. Out came my shirt tail and into it went apples. Sort of shocking that she never lost her voice hollarin warnings that those green apples would make me ill. Never did though. I’d walk along with 20 cows following me on the other side of the fence. Eat an apple, throw the core over the fence, eat another. Usually about 10 of them made a nice snack.

She was right about some things and they are missed. Thinking back tonight had me wondering what they would say to one another watching me zip about (“Slow down”) on my toy (“Too fancy”) eating green apples (“You’ll be sick later”) and glancing at the sunset (“Never go too fast to see God’s beauty”) as I helped a lady in need like they taught me.

Gender Issues

Hmmm…, how to start this thought I wonder? Well, a bit of background might be useful in working up to my current conundrum. When we get there I’ll let you form your own judgement. 

As stated, I grew up with a bunch of much older folks amid rural, agrarian settings. We were out and about working most of the time. There were no cell phones, tv’s or radios to distract us, just the folks around you and the job at hand. Time was passed simply talking. Talk about anything and everything. You just grow used to it and it becomes normal. Without realizing it, that talk becomes a habit. You ask the cow how her day is going, the dog if it was necessary to bark just now and the chicken if she laid an egg. You don’t think about it really, you just do it. Well…

Well, this morning I was up and out early. Upper 90’s today with 60%+ humidity. No sense in working in that so I work in the early morning and later afternoon/evening just like those old folks taught me. This morning included going over the truck and checking everything out. I thought of something about vehicle names that I read about here awhile back.

The discussion had been about the naming of vehicles and how they tend to have female names given by men. Well now, my truck is named Grumpy. Girly-girl and I gave him that name because of his disposition on cold mornings. That diesel is a bit grumpy for a minute or two until the fuel and oil warms up a bit you see. The name suits him and so it stuck. Hadn’t thought much more about it until that post. The thought came and went until this morning.

I popped the hood, cleaned the windows and set about checking the maintenance log and going over everything. Satisfied that all was well, I wiped the hoses one last time and shut the hood with a “good girl, everything’s ready for you”. That’s when it hit. Yep, I talk to the truck just like I talk to the dogs beside it. Talking about it, I refer to him. “We need to stop and get him some fuel.” BUT, talking to it, she’s a her! “Come on girl, pull, don’t spin.” Wait a second…

Does my truck have gender issues? Am I as nuts as some have implied? Enquiring minds want to know. Thoughts?

Pete and Repeat

Hopefully y’all all know the joke that the title references. It is what came to mind when I realized that I had trod this path before.

I once wrote about “My type of Dog” and it came back to mind yesterday evening. You see, it’s been one of those weeks. Folks who have tried to stir up trouble in the past have resurfaced. They are trying to behave badly and cause a ruckus. That they are fibbing to people or misleading means nothing to them. The fact that they have been shown for their true selves repeatedly means nothing each time they find a new disciple and send that poor soul up against me and the organization that I care for. Dealing with it is an annoyance if for no other reason than what could be best summed up by a line by Baby in the great movie “LoneStar State of Mind”. “Haven’t I killed you once already?”

I have girly-girl this week and I keep that breed of stupid away from her. That means that she lay on her bed yesterday and read while I spent hour after hour outside in high 90’s sun on the phone killing stupid again. Come evening my view of particular humans was dim but I had a plan. She took a bath a bit early and I loaded up as she finished and had supper. Roundabout 7 we headed to the local community center. It has about an acre and a half of yard and I have a key. She went inside to read as I  unloaded, grinning as I did so.

Grinning for a couple of reasons. The view there is incredible. If you don’t like watching the sunset over those mountains then your standard for pretty is set WAY too high. Been watching the sunset there since I was a kid and it is always beautiful. The sun was getting low in the sky, it was gorgeous, it was cooling off and I was sitting on another reason to smile. I’ve got a mower in the same way that Crocodile Dundee has a knife. It came about for a saddening reason but I love it nonetheless. It makes homeowner zero turn mowers look silly and even other “commercial” zero turn mowers look light duty around it. Put another way, it makes mowing fun, really fun. I mow a lot of grass helping people and I typically do it with a maniacal grin I’m told. Knocking out the grass at the building was a good way to help others and a good way to put the day behind me and enjoy the sunset. Funny how we all learn things though as we carry out our best laid plans.

Easing off the trailer, I brought it up to speed and set off. It would be hard to deny that it tickles me to see guys pull over and watch me mow. They’ve never seen a freak show like that mower provides so I’ll look up to see a truck in the ditch with a couple of guys just staring. Happened again a time or two last night. Then, when I was close to finishing, I saw a familiar truck and trailer easing in. It was the kind fellow I mentioned before. Same truck, same trailer, same yard, same drill. Waved to him as he unloaded, finished where I was and ran my mower back on the trailer. Closing everything up, I moved the truck and trailer so that he could mow where I had been parked while I blew the clippings off of everything. He finished right as I did so I blew off his mower and he loaded up while I closed up.

We sat on the back steps to enjoy the end of the sunset and chat. He said he just couldn’t ride by knowing I was at it alone, wouldn’t be decent. Also, he needed a bit of technical advice as a lady in need had been brought to his attention. Seems her well pump died about three years back and she hadn’t been able to get it fixed. He was trying to fix it for her but had a question. Steered him in the right direction and then we declared the sun set. He climbed in and headed for town with a honk and a wave as I headed up the steps to fetch a girly-girl.

A realization hit me on the way home however. Maybe I wasn’t drawn to go mow. Maybe the calling was intended to put me in a place where I got a reminder that there are those who do good just because. Maybe it was just a way to help us both take in God’s beauty and enjoy fellowship while benefiting those around us at every step. Either way, I left better than I arrived and I left the place better than I found it. Not a bad use of a sunset I suppose.

Older, weaker, slower

Most folks have a reason for most things. The reason for this post is fairly simple and twofold. (1) I’ve got a bowl of cherries thawing by the sugar bowl. It’ll be 45 minutes before I drizzle on sugar and sit outside eating cherries while the dogs whine for one. Nothing beats cool cherries on a hot summer evening. Worked as a kid, works now. (2) I made a comment earlier today that could be heard the wrong way. Seeing as I can’t sit y’all down and explain the logic behind the life lesson this will have to suffice.

There are ssomethings that I believe in. One is what I call “Older, Weaker, Slower”. This is an outlook that came to me early on. Thought I had it right and, as birthdays passed by, life showed me I did. Let’s see if I can get it across in a comprehensible fashion before the cherries melt too far. (Yes, I’m picky about that. Now just pay attention so I can finish.)

Life is funny in the things we want. A good example is how young folks want to be older. Depending on gender, you top out between about 20 and 24 though. Mentally and physically you peak around then. Guess what comes after that point. Yep, older, weaker and slower comes next. Each and every day sees an inexorable degradation. This is slow at first, slow to the point that you don’t even notice it’s arrival for about ten years. But things aren’t quite what the used to be. Some bemoan this little realization. One of my guilty pleasures is asking them about the alternatives to another birthday. Helps them realize that they aren’t dead, just slowly getting older, weaker and slower. This whole concept didn’t come to mind and get kept just to help me annoy folks though. It’s purpose was to keep me focused on how to plan my world and to help me show them how to ready there’s. The reason you’re sitting and I’m typing is so that I can show you. Well, as much as I can before the cherries thaw to far anyway!

I pounded on my Das about this when we took over the farm. He was in his 50’s and I was in my 20’s. We knew that the farm was going to take a decade or so to get right. I preached it constantly. He absolutely loathed that phrase and it made him made. We worked, we worked a lot. Sixty hours a week to pay for it and fifty hours a week to do it. A hundred degrees in the summer, single digits in the winter and we worked. But I argued that everything should be done to make tomorrow better, easier and safer than today because tomorrow we would be older, weaker and slower.

We installed handling equipment to keep the animals off of us and reduce human injury. We cleaned up the property to reduce hazards and improved roadways. We put in lights so that we weren’t walking on ice in the dark. The goal of every major action or purchase was either making life easier, safer or more efficient. We had to do it because we went home a bit older, much slower and a lot weaker every night.

By about the five year mark he was talking about older, weaker and slower. I had a couple of good injuries along the way. He was closing in on 70 when we declared victory. One person can now safely do something in a morning that previously took the entire family several days. The farm has been with us for about 270 years and it went from an antique display to (literally) a Best Practices display used by the state to train Agricultural agents. It is a wondrous thing. He now brags about all of his foresight in planning for his older, weaker and slower. But, seeing as y’all don’t farm, who cares?

You, that’s who. Think about applying this to your life. It applies in so many ways. Think about what you can do today or this week, month, year to prepare for your older, weaker and slower. Look at your anticipated needs over the life of a purchase when making the purchase. Set money aside for the future. Do the simple stupid stuff. Buy better tires, do regular maintenance, get your gutters cleaned. Don’t just buy/plan for today but begin thinking long term. Think about the what-if’s and plan accordingly.

Great and ironic example is my Dad. We built his log home. He set up bedrooms and a bathroom on the ground floor in case he couldn’t make it down the steps in years to come. The doors are all wide enough for a wheel chair. The grading included a spot for a ramp in case one was ever needed. Get the picture? The man who detested the suggestion of weakening inadvertently helped give birth to Older, Weaker, Slower as he was building a house while in his 30’s. He’s now talking of moving his bedroom downstairs due to simply getting older.

Thinking like this and acknowledging reality helps you control the changes and enjoy the adventure instead of loathing the inevitable. Of course this is all just my silly opinion and I’m all ways open to others ideas on how to stop having birthdays. Me? I’m still waiting on a good idea that doesn’t involve dying young but I’m done waiting on the cherries and really must go now!

Attitude Adjustment

We all get one sooner or later and it’s the unforeseen ones that can be the most beneficial. Given how my evening has progressed though we will need to give the Space Balls “Short, short verion” of this lesson!

This past week I felt somewhat normal. (Cool) I took girly-girl on a small trip for the 4th. It was my first vacation as such in years as my job doesn’t come with days off. We had Sliders and we had fun. (More cool) I got sick. Thursday I felt bad and Friday I actually just sat, basically unable to move and covered in sweat, all day. Certainly not my normal and less cool. Missed a funeral that I really wanted to go to. Booo… But, this illness is nothing if not mercurial So today saw me not feeling totally up to par but up and going relatively well.

After bathing I was pondering the twists of fate and my week as I sat while she read. Figured I’d log on as I hadn’t been online in awhile. Maybe see how y’all were doing and prove I wasn’t dead yet. Soon as I started to read a post that caught my eye, the dogs barked. Groan…., up and outside to shoot the trespasser and get back to doing something that brought me some pleasure. (Yeah, I enjoy y’all’s company. I’m a Luddite and you’re my one pleasure. Go figure, anywho…)

Well, there’s a lady trying to befriend my dogs. Odd enough but I thought the car was familiar so I walked on out. It was a neighbor’s new lady friend. He’s out of town playing with those pesky fires in the southwest but she is stopping by to care for his animals and garden. She had a big bag of stuff for me as she’d always heard him speak of my help. We ended up talking for an hour.

Came back in a bit grumbly. I had been in a very rare slightly foul mood. It isn’t often that I get to enjoy feeling sorry for myself and she had put a dent in it. The unmitigated gall of that kind young lady. I have no earthly idea what he sees in someone that kind and generous. Well, at least maybe, just maybe there would be something negative here and I could rekindle my grumble.

Alas, WP & y’all combined to thwart my best efforts. Apparently that hour of time sitting open on my phone did wonders. The little message thingy (pardon technical jargon) was lit. “Ok, I’ll finish my reply to that post and check there.” I did and I did. Oh holy heck, there were dozens of messages dating back months. Why some came through and others didn’t is beyond me. I don’t think it’s fair to comment on something three months old now. But, I do think that the outpouring of support, commentary and kindness should be recognized. Were it not for y’all being y’all and her being her, I would have missed out on a good lesson in humility.

Thank you….