The Three Ps - Part 2

So yes, dear friends, I knew what I had to do.  It's just that when it comes down to it, it is a very difficult thing to ask.

In truth, it was about half past two in the afternoon before I summoned the nerve to ask Dan to spank me.  You'd be surprised at how many little jobs I kept finding to do, as well as making a huge Shoo Fly Pie and a Lemon Cheesecake with an Oreo crust.  (My grandmother always told me the way to a man's heart was through his stomach.  I wouldn't want to let her down!)

He'd gone outside to mow the lawns and strim round the edge of the horse pond.  I sidled out of the back door and lurked.  I inched up to him.

I said "I want to ask you a question, Daniel.  I need you to do something for me."

Poor Dan.  He was, at the time, lying flat on his stomach with his arm down the overflow pipe, which is about two feet away from the edge of the pond, and which was wedged solid with duckweed.  

Inching did no good, I tripped over the hose which he had been using to flush out the pipe, and nearly ended up in the wretched horse pond!

No, ours doesn't look like this.  More like this, only choked with weed!

"Well hurry up and ask, I need to get on with unblocking this pipe" he growled without looking up.  

I finished teetering on the edge and stood next to him bending low enough to mutter in his ear.

"What the hell are you doing?" He stopped wrestling with the pipe and pushed himself up to his knees.  I jerked backwards and nearly went in the pond yet again.

"Oh for goodness sake, Dan, can't you just turn to look at me. I wanted to ask you something and you never make these things easy, do you."

"Well maybe I'd make it easy if you'd get on and tell me what it was."  I now had his full attention.  "I thought you were set on sampling the joys of the pond life here for a moment." 

I could see that this discussion was going to be even more difficult than I had anticipated.  But I was determined.

"I'm feeling very jumpy and unsettled" I told him.  "There is no one around.  The next door neighbours are away for the weekend.  Number One Son is over at his cottage building a wood shed."  (Truly!!!)

I looked at him imploringly.  The conversation was flowing about the same as cold treacle off a spoon.

"Daniel, do you think you could spare the time to spank me?"

It was out.  I had said it.

"But I only spanked you two days ago, woman" he replied.  "I don't want you to think this is going to get too regular.  It'll be every day next!"

I sniffed.  "Two spankings in a week is hardly regular" I informed him. "I just feel I need it badly.  I can't concentrate, my head is spinning, and I feel like I am getting out of control."

"You've only got your colleagues and their partners coming. What's difficult about that?  You've catered for much greater numbers than that before."

I love my husband, I truly do, but I could see he was going off on a tangent.

"Daniel!  I am going upstairs!  I should be so grateful if you would follow me up there in a bit."

Dan was still on his knees on the lawn, his right arm dripping duckweed and pond water, looking a bit blank.

"Prevention is better than cure" I told him as I turned to go back inside.

"Well I haven't got time for anything else."  He looked a bit shell-shocked, but he hadn't said 'no'.  

He started to get up off his knees, swiping duck weed off his jeans.  I hoped he would wash his hands first.

I'd done it!  I'd asked for a spanking!  Help!  What did one do under such circumstances?

I tell you what I did.  I galloped through the kitchen, across the living room and up the stairs like I had hounds on my heels.

Naturally, once I got into the bedroom, heart beating ninety to the dozen, I didn't know what to do next!  I stood for a minute in a bit of a dreamlike state.  Then I decided I'd go and brush my teeth.  This had all caused my brain to have hiccups.  

I thought I'd have lots of time to prepare myself.  I removed my jeans and knickers, and putting toothpaste on my brush was humming tunelessly to myself when Dan appeared behind me in the bathroom.  I jumped and toothpaste spattered all over the mirror.

"What are you brushing your teeth for?  I'm not spanking your teeth." Dan looked very perplexed.  "Come on, I haven't got all day."

I rinsed my mouth and followed him back into the bedroom and looked at him hopefully, expecting inspiration.

Dan let out a huge sigh.  He hates having to leave a job, like clearing duckweed, half way through.  

"Lean over the footboard then" he instructed me  "while I get the implement."

I got the quilt and doubling it, laid it across the wooden end of the bed and leant over, placing my head on my hands. The footboard is quite high and it means my toes can barely touch the floor, so I need the quilt to relieve the pressure of the wood on my stomach.  

I felt him come up behind me and lift my blouse a little.

He started by rubbing my cheeks and then went on to give me a few swats with his hand.  These gradually increased in intensity, until they were coming quite hard and fast.  I was just about coping but was beginning to wonder about the perspicacity of  my request, and whether I would be able to cope with whichever implement he had chosen.

It was the Rose Paddle.  This little darling should be my most favourite, but not on this occasion.  On this occasion I started to crawl forwards after the first couple of swats.  I was pulled back.  Four more, and I was on my way again.  Again I was pulled back.  Another couple, and I started to crawl forwards again when an extra hard spank landed right across my tenderest parts.  I lurched forwards like a starter off a grid yelling "F---!" at the top of my voice and craning my head around to glare at him accusingly, eyes filling with water.

"If you had stayed in position, like you're meant to, I wouldn't have missed my aim."

"You're meant to flick your wrist!  Not whack like it's going out of style!"

"Believe me, you'd know if I was whacking, Ami.  I'm hardly using any strength at all.  Just stay still.  And put your hands back in front."

I was rubbing for all I was worth.  (No, actually I was dabbing very carefully to try to lessen the awful sting.)

Dan placed his hand on my lower back and held me down before continuing.  

I tried to count quietly to myself because Dan's spankings are short and I wanted to try to get some idea of how many spanks he gave me.  I managed to reach around thirty and then it was just impossible.  I was kicking my legs and rolling my hips.  

Dan continued for another ten or so spanks right on my sit-spots (Yes, he has sadly discovered these. I wondered when he would.)  Then he went back to his hand for a grand finale. I was right the first time.  He must definitely have had a secret hand transplant!  I can vouch for the fact that his hand hurts very nearly as much as the paddle.  Or maybe it is that by then my butt was so sore that even a feather would have hurt.

He helped me stand up.  I felt a bit as if I had been through a car wash!  My hair was like a haystack and my face and hands were wet through.  I heard rather than saw him return the paddle to the drawer where it's kept, and then he said "Right then, I'll leave you to straighten up.  I've got to get back to that pond.  Then I've got to go and fetch some extra chairs from my mother's."  And he was gone.

My bottom felt very hot and it stung.  I walked stiffly over to the mirror and examined it, expecting it to be a frightening sight.  But it wasn't.  So okay, the paddle had made a few large circular marks on my butt cheeks, but the marks that got my attention most weren't made by the paddle.  They were made by Daniel's hand!  Huge, red hand-shaped marks, with every finger visible.  Yet no sign of any bruising, and the bruising from the previous spanking had all but vanished anyway.

Handprints!  Hmmm.  I studied them from every direction. That's a first, I thought.  I rubbed some arnica on both cheeks, but they were not so sore that I couldn't rub them.  

However, I did put on a pair of very soft cotton knickers and was quite careful when pulling up my jeans.  My bottom seemed on fire, if only temporarily.  As I crossed the living room to the kitchen I reached back and felt it through my jeans.  Crikey, it was red hot!  I felt a bit stunned.  I went outside.

"Just feel this" I said to Dan.  "You could fry eggs on this."

"But would you want to?"  He replied nonchalantly, his hand down the outlet once again.

I turned and went back into the kitchen and put on the kettle for some tea. I did feel better. The spanking had been very intense, but it had been over remarkably quickly.  Possibly a minute and a half in all.  Daniel never wastes time nor effort. He's always been a quality over quantity type of man, and I can ascertain that a great many spanks may be had in a minute and a half!    

The garden party was a great success.

  

I had no culinary disasters.  The Pimms flowed.  The Peroni beer had mysteriously doubled in quantity.  There was enough food to feed a third world country.  We laughed and chatted and celebrated, and all the ladies who came wore long dresses and straw hats, and most of the men wore Panamas or boaters.  They know how much I love hats, and had decided to surprise me!

So later on in the evening when we were alone once more, sprawled on a bench watching the fish in the now clear horse pond, I asked Dan a further question.

"Do you think it worked?"

He knew what I meant, and he paused to consider for a minute.

"To tell you the truth it's uncanny how well it worked.  You were so calm I nearly took your temperature.  I don't think I can recall an occasion when you haven't shouted, yelled and stamped your way through the hours leading up to a party. Yet this time you were so relaxed you were still standing in front of your wardrobe wondering what to wear when the first people arrived weren't you?"

"Yes I was.  I just didn't feel inclined to hurry.  I felt calm.  It was the strangest thing.  I'm pretty knackered now though. Don't expect me to do anything at all for the next twenty four hours."

Dan laughed tiredly.  "I'm going to watch Top Gear.  I need to put my feet up."

I watched him wend his way back to the house.  I sat and thought about things.  This weekend I learnt a great deal. 

"Feeling the burn" has taken on an entirely new meaning. Hands can hurt as much as paddles.  Being spanked for stress is amazing when used to prevent you from becoming a headless chicken. A short, sharp, shock treatment can be extremely efficacious!

If I know Dan as I think I know him, he has now stored these facts in his head for future reference.  

And finally, reluctantly, this may be a course of action I will have to employ again, or, and you never know with Dan, he may render my request unnecessary, as he did mention that the kitchen table would probably be the ideal "venue" to sort out this type of stress in the future.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

And for those of you who asked me what Billy Witches are, some people call them Maybugs.

       
This one has its wings outspread and the twin parts of its hard carapace lifted.  They are "beetles" that can fly.  

There are lots of them in our part of the country because they are attracted by the growing crops and the harvest.  They neither sting or bite, but buzz around and dive-bomb you particularly in the evenings.  The biggest are around the size of a man's thumb, but more often they are a bit smaller.  

And the best bit?  

Their real name is Cockchafer!  Thought you might like to know that little gem!  

And there are three types - Common Cockchafer, Forest Cockchafer and Large Cockchafer!  Truly! 

(Latin names are Melolontha melolontha, Melolontha hippocastani and Melolothan pectoralis!) (I looked those up!)

The Three Ps - Prelibation, Pre-emptive, Preventative

Life goes on here with the usual stresses and calm interludes to be found within a normal family.  Sometimes the scales tip more towards stress than calm interlude, and that's when the hair flies!

Most of the time we are happily jogging along, busy with our own work and interests during the day, and sharing time round the table (eating of course!) with our children, family and friends in the evenings and at weekends.  In fact, we seem to be temporarily inundated with parties, barbecues, drinks and nibbles, suppers and lunches.  With us, it is either feast or famine.  But I think the good weather has brought out the urge to entertain in everyone, and long may it continue.

It doesn't do a great deal for my waistline, nor probably my liver, but it's such fun to sit outside till late in the evening, dive-bombed by billy-witches and watching the bats take over from the swallows in the sky around the barn roofs.  The conversation can cover everything from septic tanks, to the quality of the forthcoming harvest, and the algae on our horse-ponds to the speed limits through the villages.  And the most important thing is that we all laugh loudly, and a great deal!

But sometimes, as I am sitting joining in often completely ridiculous conversations, I wonder what my friends would say if they knew about my Starman and I.

This last week my bottom suffered a couple of pretty intense spankings.  From my point of view anyway. 

The spankings in themselves weren't a surprise, because they were quite definitely of the "beneficial" variety.  It was just the intensity that sort of took my breath away.

You all know by now that my mouth has a tendency to launch into conversation, without engaging brain.  Paired with my impatient temperament, this does nothing except antagonise Dan, and cause him to start sending me "warning signals" by way of looks and eyebrow raising.  (And to think he once told me he couldn't raise an eyebrow!)

The scales were tilting dramatically towards "stress overload".  Dan had another hospital visit, we had six estate agents booked to look around the barn, and I, having decided to retire, had a garden party planned for the rest of the staff the first Sunday after I had driven out of the school gates for the last time.

So you see, a huge culmination of stress.  And Dan dealt with it as only Dan can.  My come-uppance came early one morning (around 6.30am!!!) after a particularly restless night (see Lillie's Blog - she has nights like this too!) when I may, or may not, have inadvertently kicked Dan in the ear as I climbed up on to his side of the bed to open yet another window, high up in the side of the barn, in a vain attempt to let some cooler air into our room.

He woke me from sweet dreams to ask me, not to go get him a cup of tea, but whether I preferred the walnut salad server or the bath brush!

I was immediately on high alert!

I knew I was stressed out, exhausted beyond words, flippant in speech, and temperamental in action - and several good, and well-meaning(??!!) friends (who shall remain anonymous - but you know who you are, and if I ever catch you,  just you wait!) had even threatened to email or telephone Dan and tell him it was time he dealt with the situation.  But to have to choose either a hard bit of walnut or an even thicker bit of bath brush, at 6.30 in the morning, is a bit tough on a girl surely?!  He did say he was going to have a very busy day and we could leave it till the evening, but to have that hanging over me all day, no way Jose!

I chose the walnut salad server.  It hadn't seen any use for ages, and I cannot abide the bath brush!  How you people cope with wooden paddles, is a complete and utter mystery to me, and one which I am not planning to solve any time soon.

To cut a long story short, the spanking that ensued had me in tears by the third stroke and sobbing my socks off by the sixth stroke, and apologising and promising the world by the tenth stroke.  

I also had a considerable warm-up session first with his hand. Did I mention before that his hand seems to have toughened up miraculously?  It doesn't feel like the same hand he had when we started, and I wonder if he has had some secret hand transplant and omitted to tell me!

I sobbed so loudly that at one point Dan stopped, rubbed my back and asked me if I was okay.  Now what he thought I was going to reply to that, heaven knows, but he must have been satisfied with my mumbled answer because he carried on for a minute or two and then ended with his classic series of rapid staccato swats to the tops of my thighs and that nice little crease where thighs meet cheeks, until I was practically gasping for air.  I couldn't breathe and I couldn't think, let alone say anything.  

But that spanking was therapeutic (and I had to tell those rotten friends that they were right!) because I felt the stress simply flow out of me with the tears, leaving me limp as a kitten but so happily curled up under Dan's armpit that I could have stayed there all day.

Fast forward three days.

Now before I continue, let's just discuss the issue of bruising shall we?  

One very fair skin plus one 75mg aspirin a day equals bruising.  

I remember the first time Dan spanked me with an implement - I thought he would never spank me again!  I even tried to hide the bruises from him.  Now he will even rub my butt cheeks with arnica for me!  (Note to those who may by now be completely horrified - these bruises generally only last a couple of days or so, but they look extremely dramatic at the time!)  (Second note to same - husbands change, alter and evolve!)

So, after the salad server spanking (Triple S?!) I stood in front of my full length mirror with my head craned around like a stork, and made gasping noises at the sight of my sit-spots, the lower half of my bottom, and the tops of my thighs. I slathered on the arnica like it was going out of fashion.

I think I must be a very strange person, because I always enjoy the '"afterburn" of a spanking.  I rarely feel sore for more than a few hours and the redness is invariably gone by evening (if it is a morning spanking).  Only the bath brush gives me any deep achy discomfort, and our hard, wooden kitchen chairs cause me no more than a passing squirm or two.  Occasionally three.

My problem is that it is summer!  So therefore summer is associated with swimming, and swimming is associated with swimsuits and bikinis and all things minimal.  Hah!  Now you have it!  Believe me, my sort of bruising is not the sort you can easily pass off as an accident when viewed from behind!

So, three days after this spanking I am going out of my mind with preparations for my garden party come retirement lunch.  The words "headless chicken" would not do justice to how I was acting.  Starting one task, leaving it to attend to another, seeing yet another en route and starting that one as well!  I sat at lunchtime having a breather and regarded Dan as he munched his way through a salad (I had prepared earlier!) and discussed garden furniture, which we have very little of, ours having been winkled away by our offspring.

I had a whole ham cooking on the stove, the ironing board was in the middle of the living room and I was ironing linen tablecloths that had been creased in the airing cupboard, a lemon cheesecake was half finished, and we were sitting surrounded by groceries just delivered by the local supermarket!

Dan was eyeing up the bottles of Peroni beer and wondering whether he ought to have ordered double.

I was thinking about spanking.  Yes, you heard.  Me. Thinking. Spanking.  !!!!

I was sitting there, not concentrating on my lunch, or all the myriad tasks I was half way in to, but wondering whether I had enough courage to ask Dan to spank me.

I think my main worry, aside from the actual humiliation of having to ask for one, was whether or not he would agree to give me one.  After all, I wasn't asking him for a few playful swats.  What I wanted was to be spanked before I transgressed.

It brought to mind a story my grandparents used to tell a very long time ago, about the daughter of a gypsy who was being sent to the local alehouse with a jug, to bring back some ale for her father to drink with his supper.  A passer-by noticed the gypsy spanking the child quite hard on her bottom. Yet when asked why she was spanking her child before she had done anything wrong, the gypsy replied that she was simply saving time.  She knew the child was going to trip up and break the jug and spill the beer.  So this time she thought she would get the spanking out of the way before she even went. 

The question is, of course, whether I had the nerve.  And what happened.  Don't forget this is wimpy Ami you are talking to, with a quiet, patient, "Are you okay?" husband. 

Would Dan be able to add to those bruises, or would his common sense prevail?  Or would my common sense prevail?

I think this is where I leave you to wonder.

Borrowing Sunny's Meme!

I am busy cooking - yet again - for a multitude, but memes are my weak spot, so I thought I would just be very quick....

1  What do you wear to bed?  Dolce and Gabanna "Light Blue", plus stripy bedsocks in the winter

2  What's your favourite pet name for your SO?  I often call him by his surname, but occasionally I am less complimentary.  It depends upon what we are doing.

3  What's your favourite thing to do on a rainy day? Curl up and read a book, or watch a 'chick flick' type of film.  I have also been known to bake several cakes, such as Lemon Drizzle or Devil's Food...

4  Your favourite snack food?  Cashew nuts

5  Do you cry at sad movies?  I cry at anything! When the music started up to 'Gone with the Wind' when I was around 17, I began to cry and then cried all the way through!  The men in my family have a tendency to get really embarrassed and move away from me! But my daughter joins in and cries with me.

6  What's your favourite implement to be spanked with?  It depends on the severity of the spanking. I love his hand, but that has gotten strangely harder since we began.  I love my new Rose Paddle which is leather and hand made, but wowie does it bruise!!

7  Is your hair long or short?  My hair was really short when we started all this back in November last year, but now it is just below chin length at the front and a bit longer at the back.  I am growing it yet again, and I like to wear it up.

8  What size is your bed?  A kingsize sleigh bed.  But Dan creeps closer and closer during the night, and he makes me so hot I end up sleeping clinging on to the edge!

9  Do you have sex with the lights on or off?  It depends what time it is, where we are, and what we are doing.

10  What's your favourite "around the house" outfit? It depends on the weather.  In winter I wear jeans and a top of some sort.  At the moment it is so hot that I wear one of several very loose dresses I bought last summer on a Spanish market.  Colourful, cool and airy!

11  How do you drink your coffee or tea?  Strong ground coffee called Lazy Sunday, with a splash of semi-skimmed milk.

12  Are you a bargain hunter?  Both Dan and I like bargains and I have heard I can be a force to be reckoned with.  I love to haggle.

13  Do you think bald men are sexy?  It depends on who the man is.  I used to lust after Yul Brynner.  But the average man?  It's certainly fashionable, but some men just don't have the right shaped heads.

14  Are you a good driver?  Now, naturally I would say 'yes' to this question, but I can be a bit ferocious if someone cuts me up, or tailgates!  

15  In a 24 hour period, how many hours do you spend watching TV?  At this time of the year maybe only a couple of hours.  In the winter I sometimes watch it all evening.  I always watch TV when I am ironing, usually pre-recorded programmes.

16  Name the last book you read  Beautiful Disaster by Jamie McGuire

17  Would you rather be hot or cold?  I love the heat and wearing very few clothes, especially going barefoot whenever possible.  I hate the cold and the wet, which in England tends to be inevitable for most of the year.

18  How many hours a day to you spend on the internet?  On average around two hours.  Eyebrows get raised otherwise.

19  Do you like facial hair on a man?  It suits some men, but other men use it to cover a weak chin.  Not on Dan as it brings me out in a rash.  No 1 son only shaves once a week and has designer stubble after 24 hours, and a full dark beard by the end of the week! He works outside in all weathers and says it keeps him warm in winter and absorbs the sweat in summer. 

20  Are you a smoker?  No.  But we sometimes have smoked kippers for breakfast!


I hope others will join in now!

FOOTPRINTS

One night a man had a dream,

He dreamed he was walking along the beach with the LORD.

Across the sky flashed scenes from his life.

For each scene, he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand,

One belonging to him and the other to the LORD.

When the last scene of his life flashed before him

He looked back at the footprints in the sand.

He noticed that many times along the path of his life

There was only one set of footprints.

He also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest times in his life.

This really bothered him and he questioned the LORD about it:

"LORD, you said that once I decided to follow you, you'd walk with me all the way.

But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life, 

There was only one set of footprints.

I don't understand why when I needed you most you would leave me."

The LORD replied:

"My son, my precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you."

FOR BAS

We will always be thinking about you dear friend!

Being a Grump!

It is one of those days!  One of  those weeks!

Do you have them?  Oh well, if you do, then you know what I am talking about.

You get up out of bed, and it's apparent from the minute your feet hit the floor, that you got out the wrong side.

Dan is working away at the moment and having been awake since 4am for the last two mornings, and having stayed behind at school to write copious end of year progress reports and work out predicted grades for next year, I am feeling pretty much knackered.

Even the children at school have been giving me a wide berth.  My year nines virtually walked on their eyebrows during their lesson this morning - so much so that I gave them all a 'merit'.  (They could see I'd had a very fraught lesson with my year eights!)  

I have three weeks left of my summer term before we break up for six weeks.  Before I break up for ever!  It can't come soon enough.  The term is always filled with meetings before or after school, concert rehearsals, school trips, end of year exams, reports, assessments, sports day, open day - in fact you name it, and they cram it into the last half term!

It doesn't help that I am beginning to feel nervous that I have decided to retire.  What if I have made a mistake?  What if I get bored?  What if I don't like being a 'kept woman' after all these years?

All I do these days is wake up in the middle of the night, Dan snoring peacefully by my side, and toss and turn and worry, worry, worry.

Dan and I are completely at odds with each other.  He is a bit grumpy, and I am a lot grumpy!

We are soon going to be putting the barn on the market.  I think that this is one of my main reasons for stress.  The plan is to move back into the farmhouse, and then eventually sell that too - and down-house.  After over thirty years here, I can't tell you how tough that is.  But it is now all too much for us.  We want to travel, and enjoy some 'us' time for a change.  

Dan wants to move somewhere more convenient.  Where we can actually walk to the pub for a start, or to the village shop.  But most of the villages here don't have shops any more, due to the large out of town supermarkets and shopping centres, and several of the pubs seem to have closed around us recently due to increased brewery charges, lack of customers due to the drink drive laws, and meals which are far too expensive.  (Our local pub was charging around £40 per person for a two course meal - without drinks!  £17 for a  hamburger!  And we don't even live near London!)

But I like living in the middle of nowhere and I can't cope with the thought of close neighbours.  We rent out our farmhouse at the moment and I hate the lack of privacy.  I love being solitary.  Grump.  Grump.  And naturally, Dan will be the deciding factor in all of this.  Even before TTWD he was the final decision-maker.  He has always been so good at 'reasonable discussion'!  Now, of course, I get the raised eyebrow, or the 'look' or even a word of caution.  Which at the moment I am choosing to ignore to the best of my ability!

Normally this is me.  But not at the moment.  

At the moment I am on the lookout to pick a fight with all and sundry.  I simply can't help myself.  

It's so stupid.  I always seem to be able to give other people the benefit of my advice; to be able to tell them where they are going wrong; to explain to them how very good their husbands are and that they shouldn't snarl at them if sometimes things don't go their way.  But when it's me - it's another story completely.

Go on test me!  I'll bet I know all the answers!

I've been like this all week!

But now Dan has begun to look like this

He is always such a peaceful and reasonable sort of man.  But I know he's not going to take much more of it.  If I auditioned for the lead female role in the Taming of the Shrew at the moment, I would win hands down!

Whatever is making me like this is going to have to be stopped in its tracks.  Unfortunately I can only think of one solution to the problem.  I want to feel like this again.

But in order to feel like this I may have to summon some assistance.

If only it was as easy as this.

Alas, I'm pretty sure a completely different solution is on the cards, and I don't even have to go to a fortune teller to find out what that is.

I've happily asked for many a spanking - but not for the sort I know, in fact I have been assured, I am in for.

I just hope that it will work, and that it will sort me out and bring out my nicer side once more.  I had forgotten just how destructive a mood like this can be.

The whole point is that I am most definitely not enjoying myself.  I feel nasty, vindictive and horrible.  

So Daniel is going to have to venture back into the lions' den once again, and rescue me.

  

Only I think he will be carrying something far more lethal than a (whatever it is in the picture above!).

I so want to get back to how I usually am!