Ella came up with this meme and it is just excellent. So without further ado, I am going to have a go at answering the questions.
1 Take a look at the walls of your home, which picture/object is your favourite and why?
I love water colours, and we have quite a few on our walls. I don't think I have a favourite, but I do prefer the older ones.
2 What is/are your favourite perfume(s)?
My favourite perfume has been Dolce and Gabbana's Light Blue for years, but I also like to wear Flower Bomb by Viktor Rolf in the summer time.
3 How many pairs of shoes do you own? Have you ever hidden new shoes from your spouse?
LOL! Dare I answer truthfully? Er - no. I sadly confess that my shoe fetish occasionally gets the better of me. I do have rather a lot of pairs, and just maybe, some of them are still unworn. Gulp. Did I just say that? I have tried to streamline my cupboards by donating fifty or so pairs to a charity shop..... I dare not say more with Dan looking lifting his eyebrow at me.
4 Snacks - sweet, salty or both? If you could choose one snack, and it magically had no calories, what would it be?
I prefer savoury snacks, like cashew nuts and salted almonds, but then I get a humongous desire for chocolate. I love dark chocolate the best, but do admit to loving Maltesers. If they had no calories, then I would buy a big box and eat the lot!
5 What are your favourite cut flowers?
I am another one who loves blue irises. I am also a great fan of Old-fashioned roses. And sweetpeas. And lilies of the valley.
6 Without using a real name, describe one person in your life with whom you have a hard time being patient.
I really am unable to do that publicly. But yes, there is someone who absolutely drives me insane. They are soooooo boring!
7 What food do you love that your husband hates? What food does your spouse love that is "yeech" to you?
We eat most things around here. But I love peanut butter, both types - crunchy and smooth - and Dan cannot abide the stuff.
The thing Dan loves to eat that I hate are radishes. They are far to sharp. Oh, and olives.
8 What is the song you associate with meeting your honey?
I don't remember any particular song, but we had our first ever dance to Black Sabbath way back before they made the big time.
9 Do you have a favourite movie that you like to watch every few months or once a year?
I love A Good Year with Russell Crowe, and Dan loves the Bourne Identity with Matt Damon.
10 What collection(s) do you have? How did that collection start?
I used to collect all sorts of things, but have stream-lined my life these days as I was running out of space.
11 Where would you like to go on your next vacation? Is there somewhere else on your bucket list?
We both love to travel and are very fortunate to have done quite a bit of it. We have some small trips planned for the autumn but have not yet decided on a long-haul. There are so many places on our bucket list that they are too numerous to mention. The world is a wonderful place.
12 If you could buy clothes at one store, at what store would you shop?
I'm very fond of Phase Eight.
13 What gift(s) from your spouse have been the most loved and appreciated?
A small item of jewellery Dan bought me for my 21st birthday, is very precious to me. But the two items the most loved and appreciated are our children. They are priceless.
14 Name one item of your spouse's clothing that you would love to throw away.
I can happily name this - I already threw it away a month ago! He had this most awful, smelly, horrible bathrobe that he had had for years and years! And before you all lunge at me, I threw it away with his blessing. In fact, it almost walked out of its own accord!
15 What is the submissive action or inaction of which you are most proud?
Quietly getting up and slipping into the spare room in the middle of the night instead of shaking Dan awake when he is snoring his head off. I always used to shake him awake and swear and growl at him. Now I carefully pick up my glass of water and my pillow, and tiptoe along along the corridor to a room where I can sleep unhindered. It doesn't happen often, but we both get a good night's sleep that way, and he wakes me quite cheerily the next morning with a coffee in my favourite mug.
There are words and then there are words.
For the past few days, Dan and I have had words. Or rather, I have been the one having the words and Dan has mostly remained silent and pondered them.
For those who live the DD/TTWD dynamic, this can be a very dangerous way of life. After all, don't we all scream at each other that communication is key to a good relationship. Well, "Ha!" is all I can say.
When this little old Alpha gets going, she most certainly gets going. And so does Dan, but he is the one holding the paddle.
Let us just go back a few days shall we?
Remember where I talked about snapping back occasionally and having to reconcile that with the fact that you might end up with a red, sore bottom?
I think there is a saying that mentions chickens coming home to roost.
For those of you who are interested in embarking on a spanking way of life, those who just like to read and imagine, and even for those of you who live this strange and kinky phenomenon, let me remind you that there are certain words and phrases that should never, ever, be uttered out loud during a pouty episode that incurs a spanking penalty, the lead up to the spanking itself, and most definitely not while the aforesaid spanking is taking place.
Some of these words are:
"I'm so tired of you watching tennis and golf all the time."
"I'm bored and fed up with being neglected."
"All you do is issue your orders."
"You can do it yourself."
"Next time you leave your socks on the floor for me to pick up, I will not be held responsible for my actions."
"So what are you going to do about it?!"
"You can stick that in your pipe and smoke it."
"You and who else?"
"I can't be bothered."
"I'm not in the mood."
"You just don't get it, do you?"
"I'm fine, thanks."
"Leave me alone."
"Huh!"
"You can get you own bloody implement!"
"No, I won't...!"
"Why the fuck do you keep hitting the same spot!"
"Let me up!"
"Okay, that's enough now!"
"Noooooo......!"
Spread over several days you can imagine the timbre of the atmosphere in our household.
This morning Dan could stand it no longer. He took action, which involved my rear end getting a major roasting. I wasn't even over his lap at the time. I was merely lying in bed minding my own business and contemplating the next story in a series in a new book called "Confessions of a Spanking Author" (Great book! Now why wasn't I approached?!), when all of a sudden I was rudely rolled over and paddled like there was no tomorrow.
I seem to remember something about being instructed to go and get an implement, and my reply being one of the above snarky comments. But the resultant stamping across the bedroom, the slamming of the drawers, closely followed by Dan's shocking assault upon my lily-white bottom with a rapid and remorseless ascent and descent of a large hard implement, soon snapped me out of my pleasant reverie.
There was no warm up, and each time I thought I could breathe, albeit in gasps of hurt astonishment, the spanks not only started up again but came with renewed intensity.
Being flat out is a distinct disadvantage. Each time I tried to creep towards the edge of the bed on the pretext of throwing myself over and escaping, I was hauled back by a leg, and pinned back down.
He may not be spontaneous, but he knows exactly how he needs to spank in order for me to regain my happy, smiling, submissive self.
It was a bit like climbing a steep hill. The nearer you get to the top the harder the going gets. I was aware of Dan pulling my skin tight to extract every bit of ouchiness he could; instead of gently rubbing and soothing my hot flesh in between bouts of spanks, he kneaded it like bread dough;
he kept spanking on the same spot over and over - just where I sit!
I ended up in a dishevelled, hot, flustered, weeping mess. But once again, it was one of those moments when I would have unzipped his skin and climbed in with him if I could have. An extraordinary sense of calm and togetherness. A very happy place. Resolution.
So now I am sitting here, having a writing day. But you would laugh out loud if you saw me. I have placed a cushion, from the kitchen bench, on my typing seat to soften it. I am wearing a long, flowing summer skirt of a very soft material. And I am most definitely NOT wearing any knickers, and nor do I intend to for a very long time. If ever, in fact.
As I said at the beginning, there are words and then there are words.
"Love don't show up in the pavement cracks..."
Do you ever get earworms? Yes, earworms, NOT earwax.
Earworms are songs that you can't get out of your head. They keep going round and round until you are nearly driven to desperation.
I sometimes wonder whether our brains cause these songs to key in to our emotive issues. Or if it is just by accident that the words seem to fit with your mood at the time.
Dan and I have been away with a group of friends on a wonderful weekend. Far too much eating and drinking and silly activities with unruly almost hysterical laughter perhaps more appropriate to sixteen year olds rather than those of our certain age group. Or maybe not.
Before we set off early on the Saturday morning, Dan gave me an exceptionally hard spanking. It was intended to clear my mind, help me focus, remind me to be nice, assist me to behave appropriately and to assure me that the paddle would be waiting when we returned - should it be necessary to use it again.
We continue to suffer a surfeit of stress in the Starsong household, although I am happy to report that my MIL is very much better than she was due to painkillers that are so strong they go off the Richter Scale. We all found out towards the end of last week, after she had an MRI, that she has a small fracture of the spine. This is what has been causing all the pain and discomfort. She swears she hasn't had a fall, but the doctor tactfully pointed out to us that everything points to the fact that she has. Knowing my MIL the way I do, she would have kept quiet so as not to cause us undue worry, and now she won't admit to anything even if hot irons were held to her soles. Still, at least we know it is nothing sinister, and she has another appointment with her consultant so we will all know what, if anything, can be done about it.
The spanking did me a lot of good and our weekend was just brilliant. It was so hot on the Saturday that you could've shut your eyes and been in the tropics.
We hired two small electric boats and went for a long trip up the river where we found an old pub that you could only get to from the water. The men had real ale and we ladies had a very large jug of Pimms.
It most certainly cleared away any cobwebs that there may have been. Although it had been hard to climb up and out of the boats, it was dead easy to fall back down into them when we were ready to return down river to our hotel.
As good as Saturday had been, Sunday was an entirely different day. It had poured with rain most of the night and was still raining heavily when we awoke. We had a leisurely breakfast and kept glancing outside in the hopes that the rain would stop. We were cheered to see that by 10.30 the clouds had lessened and the rain had become a fine drizzle.
We had to check out of our rooms by 11.00, and I took our key and left Dan chatting as I wanted to brush my teeth and throw my few clothes back into my trolley case so we would be ready to leave. We had planned to go for a short 2 mile walk. It was actually nearer 5 miles but the friend who had planned it didn't like to reveal this to us until we were two thirds of the way around and just about on our knees.
I happily did all I needed to do and as Dan hadn't appeared, I made my way back downstairs, as we only had the one door key.
Dan wasn't there. I waited for a while, then went outside to our car to see if he was out there. No. He wasn't. I waited a while again, and then decided to return upstairs. No. He wasn't there either. So I sat down to wait.
I very loud knock soon came on the door. I opened it and a very angry Dan marched in. He was absolutely furious. He said I was late and everyone was waiting for us. He swore and yelled.
Usually I would have acquiesced. But I had done nothing wrong. So I let responded in similar terms. Let him have it in the neck. Swore like a trooper, gesticulated, and told him exactly what my opinion of him was.
You could have cut the silence that followed with a knife. This was an argument like before DD/TTWD. A short, sharp shouting match, where nobody won and both of us felt like crap afterwards. I left the room dragging my trolley case and would've slammed the door if it hadn't had one of those mechanisms on it that prevented that happening.
In the car on the way to our destination for the start of our walk we both stared straight ahead, neither one of us wanting to be the first to speak. It was just horrid.
Eventually a few miles down the road Dan cleared his throat and apologised to me. Mostly he was apologising for losing his temper. I apologised back.
It had been a storm in a teacup, albeit a largish one. And caused quite simply, by a ridiculous misunderstanding. I hadn't known that the hotel had two staircases, and Dan hadn't bothered to inform me that there were, and had used the one I knew nothing about.
We had literally passed each other a couple or three times going up and down the blessed things. And whilst I had been getting quite worried and distraught, Dan had felt that I was leading him a dance and messing him about, and as a consequence had become angry with me. We were both too sorry for words, and after our mutual apologies, not another word was said about it.
Dan went off and was away overnight on business, and I had plenty of time to do some thinking.
Just lately our dynamic has gone a bit off key. Instead of going forwards, we have gone backwards. We've let ourselves drift. And it's come as no surprise that we've fallen down the cracks.
Somewhere along the way he took off his HOH hat for a while, possibly to scratch his head over something I did; put it down, and forgot to put it back on. I responded to that in a negative way, became extra sassy, and allowed good old bitch/troll to climb out of her pit. The old Ami reappeared and the new Ami quite liked it. Peace and harmony were quickly thrown aside in pursuit of proving to Dan that she was fed up with being a quiet little mouse, and was reverting to fully rampant lioness standards. There was no way she was being yelled at for something she hadn't done.
It just shows how a small misunderstanding can escalate into a mammoth row where both sides come out losers.
Dan was too tired last night when he got home, but this morning the power exchange was readjusted.
Not a single word was said about our argument, but we both knew what I was being spanked about. It wasn't just for my good, it was for Dan's good as well. It was to reinforce the fact that peace and harmony doesn't just come from one person, it comes from both. It's not easy being an HOH and he can fall into a trap just as easily as the TIH.
It's one of the few spankings where I have actually cried out "No!" and begun to think it was more than I could take.
Dan did pause at that point, but he wasn't finished by any stretch of the imagination. I was well and truly roasted. The knickers didn't go on till well into the day! At one point I went outside the back door and fanned a certain part of my anatomy. Luckily there was no one around.
We've talked a huge amount, and not even got to the spanking bit yet. Perhaps there will be more, and perhaps there won't. At this point we are both glad to be back in a happy place.
We are fortunate. We have always been able to apologise, kiss, make up and move on. It's one of the main components that has kept our marriage as watertight as it is.
There was a lot more to this blip than we both at first realised. It simply precipitated some of the communication that followed.
I was reading some psychology yesterday, and apparently if an alpha man is married to a beta woman, and if a beta man is married to a beta woman, there aren't many problems. If a beta man is married to an alpha woman he will be a hen-pecked husband.
And if an alpha man is married to an alpha women, there will be fireworks!
All I know is, that in certain circumstances, it is nigh impossible to remain submissive.
So I'm leaving you with something to think about.
Can a woman be too submissive?
"Two alphas may not know how to resolve things or compromise, but you should never struggle silently. It's hard for an alpha to admit vulnerability, but to do so is key. Own to your feelings. Remember, the qualities you have as an alpha are what drew your partner to you in the first place. He appreciates women as strong and powerful as he is.
Alpha males enjoy to be challenged; and being challenged by an alpha female may mean that he has to learn that he is not always the best at everything. It can be a valuable lesson in humility for him."
My own thoughts are that a woman can only be too submissive if she never has the nerve to turn around and snap back occasionally. Even if a sore, red bottom does come with the territory.
(If you are interested in the song I took the title from, it's called Pavement Cracks by Annie Lennox.)
They say the early bird gets the worm.
When I was working, I had to get up at 5.30 most mornings in order to join the moving car park that runs at peak times between our village and the town where I worked. I wasn't very keen in the winter, but in the spring and early summer I loved being up early, sometimes watching the sunrise turning the countryside all sparkly, and at other times just watching the new day unfold around me.
Now, unless we have a real reason to be up at the crack of dawn, like when we look after our youngest grandson for the day, we rise much later, usually after one of us fetches an early morning drink. We take time to sit and chat to each other, and peruse the world at large. During the summertime we enjoy a leisurely breakfast outside, watching the bees amongst the honeysuckle, and the sparrows in the eaves. It's a special time and we cherish it.
Since we first began DD/TTWD, we listen to each other more than we used to do. Words have assumed a greater importance. There is nothing Dan hates more, than when I am in a snit, and when he asks me what is wrong and to tell him what has upset me, to have me walk away from him. It gets him madder than a wet hen (rooster!).
Such an occurrence took place earlier this week. I shouldn't have bothered to write about it, but it was the way Dan handled it that pulled me up short. I suppose I am still thinking about it, and wonder what your reaction would be if it happened to you?
I had long finished my coffee, and Dan was sipping his (by now) lukewarm mug of tea. He was expounding at length on my snarky behaviour the previous morning, when he had been in too much of a rush to be at an appointment to do anything about it.
I was sent to fetch the little nipper. You can imagine the look of disgruntlement and horror on my face. A girl can get used to the feel of her man's hand, and even good solid leather if it is laid on with tempered strokes. But, as I was explaining to Ella the other day in a comment, wood has no give in it. It is what it is. I liked it once upon a time. But that was in the halcyon days when Dan still thought my bottom had the fragility of an eggshell, and only spanked so long, and so hard. At the time, I thought it quite long enough and hard enough, but the strange thing is that a bottom can get used to anything given time. His hand now feels like the very wooden implements I try to avoid. Leather has me glowing within five seconds the colour of Morello cherries. And really, you don't want to know how happily he wields things made of wood. Even those with holes in!
He held out his hand and I passed him the aforesaid little wooden horror, and climbed rather reluctantly over his lap. Imagine my consternation when he felt that I had slithered much too far forwards, my backside rapidly disappearing in a southerly direction.
He tugged me back, gave me a warm up to remember (long! believe me!) and set to with the nipper. It was not amusing. He needed his leg to keep me in place, and he proved once again that sit spots can be swatted just as hard as the rest of my rear. By the time he had finished, I was exhausted, hot and bothered, and ready to apologise for anything.
Once again, I thought to myself "How the heck can women stop yowling and struggling, and just give up and go limp?" I am most definitely not one of those women. The harder the spanking, the more I yowl and kick, and if it gets that bad I can cry with the best of them. (I suppose I am extra good at multi-tasking!)
The leg pinning me down was removed, and I lifted up to my hands and knees in order to crawl backwards to my side of the bed. Dan's hand on my bottom prevented me from doing so.
So picture this. Dan is propped in the most relaxed fashion possible against the headboard, with me on my hands and knees over his lap.
He started happily stroking my poor roasted rear. Thinking contentedly that this could lead to an extremely loving interval, I stayed where I was, almost purring.
Girls - beware of wolves in sheep's clothing.
Dan stopped stroking my bottom and ran his hand a couple of times over my back.
I felt him turn slightly, then something was placed right in the middle, on the flat bit just above my bottom. It felt suspiciously like a mug of lukewarm tea.
Too late I realised that the nipper had not strayed too far from his hand. He gave an evil chuckle.
"You better not move, or you will cover both me and the bed with tea."
He was serious.
I shifted just slightly and he informed me that there was still plenty of tea left in the mug, and that if it tipped over, both our beautiful white sheets, and the mattress, would be ruined. (Yorkshire tea is very strong.)
I gave a nervous giggle. I didn't know how full that blessed mug actually was, nor how long I would be expected to remain in what I thought of as a position straight out of 50 Shades.
This was confirmed by what followed. Dan solidly refuses to play with any form of tying me up, even though I think I would be more than willing. Yet I would challenge any of you to remain still whilst in the position I was in. Yet how could I move? Was that mug half full, or had he unknown to me, finished his tea, and thus it was empty?
"If you spill the tea, I shall go and get the big nipper. I think I should've used it anyway this morning."
Dan used various means to ensure I was soon squawking in an entirely different way and for an entirely different reason. And I couldn't move an inch!
Psychological bondage?! - It's blooming exhausting!
And completely hilarious!
He eventually removed the mug and I gasped with relief and collapsed on top of him.
He whispered evilly in my ear "It was empty. It's called 'trust', Ami."
He roared with laughter and after a while I joined him. Talk about a joker.
I then gave him a little lesson in trust, which I am not explaining here, but which you will have to imagine. It did involve me smiling like a Cheshire Cat at the end.
The kitchen is not a place to linger in during long, hot summer days, only for preparing food quickly, wrapping it or dishing it up, and taking it outside to eat.
"The stillroom and the larder and the dairy are dim and stone-slabbed and pleasingly cool. Jugs and bowls and dishes stand, muslin-covered. Cotton bags of whey drip, drip, drip down, leaving the creamy yellow curds of cheese.
The refrigerator hums and vibrates day and night, a living creature in the corner. But the range stands cold and silent.
A pot of basil on the table, a pungent sweet geranium on the windowsill, a bunch of mint hung from the ceiling will all help to keep out summer flies."
If you are outside, walk into the greenhouse, dark and shady during the day with the thick growth of tomato plants. Close your eyes and breathe in the heady, pungent, strange warm smell.
Midsummer Eve, an enchanted night where witches, sprites and all manner of evil spirits are abroad, has safely passed, helped by the sprigs of fennel and rowan brought into the house to afford protection.
In the hedgerows lining our meadows the elderflowers are blooming - great foamy creamy white blossoms that remind us that spring is about to take a leap over the ditch into summer.
They have a most pungent and evocative scent and flavour, a little like that of the Muscatel grape.
Steep them in boiled water, leave to cool, strain. Use to rinse the face - an excellent skin tonic.
Add elderflowers to the first, sharp, small gooseberries, poached in syrup and made into a flan or pie. Or make some gooseberry and elderflower jam. Tie the flowers in a muslin bag, and suspend over the boiling jam mixture. Draw out before potting. The flavours marry perfectly.
Elderflowers make fine wine and champagne, fragrant and light. As a refreshing drink, diluted with spring water, try Elderflower Cordial.
Elderflower Cordial
25 elderflower heads
2 lbs sugar
2 lemons, grated, squeezed, cut into small pieces
2 oz citric acid (easy to obtain from a pharmacy)
2 pints cold, boiled water
1 Remove stems from flower heads and place in a large bowl. Add sugar, lemons, citric acid.
2 Cover with water and leave for two days, stirring occasionally.
3 Strain. Bottle. Dilute to taste. Keep in a refrigerator.
Elderflower Water Ice
6 oz sugar
1 pint water
1 egg white
Juice of 2 and rind of 3 lemons
4-6 elderflower heads
1 Combine everything except the egg white and lemon juice. Stir over a low heat until sugar dissolves. Boil for ten minutes.
2 Cool. Add lemon juice. Strain carefully. Freeze about one hour, until slushy. Beat, with a fork or hand whisk. Stiffly beat the egg white, and fold it in. Freeze further hour. Stir.
3 Then leave in freezer until needed. Thaw slightly before bringing to the table.
On Thursday night Dan and I were celebrating my imminent book release. I knew I had a bottle of champagne in the fridge (for emergency use - LOL) and I went and retrieved it. I had worked hard all morning helping with Church lunches for the elderly of the parish, and then on to my MIL's where I sat and had coffee whilst she ate the lunch I took to her, and then I was down on my knees scrubbing at a bright pink stain on her cream carpet where she had knocked over a glass of cranberry juice. By the time I got home it was 4pm. So I felt I owed myself a small drink of something alcoholic.
Dan opened the bottle for me as I am terrified of champagne corks for some reason. He filled two extremely large glasses. (In fact the glasses were so large we only got a glass and a bit, each.) The champagne turned out to be a sadly inferior Brut Cava I had brought back from Spain three years' ago, and though a pretty shade of pink, it took us three quarters of the way down a glass before we could ignore the flavour, which reminded us both a bit of paint stripper. (Not that we have ever drunk paint stripper. LOL) It was lovely to relax and chat, sipping our wine, and trying to put our stresses behind us.
This is not going to be a post about our stresses, but my MIL, although better than last week, and improving, is still not as good as she hoped she would be and she is getting very down as she is used to being such an independent lady. She is now on much stronger painkillers as the morphine didn't seem to work very well, and she has an appointment to see a consultant in a local hospital in a couple of weeks' time. We are hoping she will be able to have some sort of injection into her spine to block the pain of the osteo-arthritis which is disabling her so badly.
Dan and I haven't had much time for each other lately. In fact, we had quite a ding-dong last Sunday through Monday. Apart from odd reminder swats, which I openly admit are getting rather more forceful than I appreciate, spanking has been pretty much thin on the ground. Until the other morning.
Dan sat up in bed and informed me he thought one was very much overdue. I couldn't argue. I felt exhausted, harassed and pretty much in the doldrums myself. There was no point in debating the matter, so I got up and marched across the room and retrieved the rose paddle. I felt that after such a spanking drought, my backside wouldn't cope with much else, and Dan rarely stipulates unless he has lost all patience completely.
I knew he meant business as he immediately pegged me down with a hand on my back and his leg over both mine, but he did at least give me a good, long hand spanking first. It wasn't the lovely stingy sort. His hand felt like a lightening rod and I could almost smell burning. I was soon rolling around, trying to kick and uttering loud yelpy noises.
There was no warning when that blessed paddle took over from his hand. He told me that he didn't intend stopping until I let it all out, and that it was no use clenching my buttocks and pretending to be elsewhere. (Funny that, how did he know?)
Some of our spanking sessions can be virtually measured in seconds. This was not one of them. It went on and on. It turned out that this was one of those times when Dan was determined.
In fact he was very determined. He was determined to ensure my bottom felt every last slap of leather. I thought to myself that the women who are able to just slump and surrender, are very lucky indeed. I am not able to do that. I howl and moan and yelp and struggle to get free, get up, get anywhere so long as it is away from that paddle. The fantasy and the reality are completely different as far as I am concerned. He just kept on spanking and softly telling me to let it out. He even remembered previous entreaties, and spanked much lower for once. Only I hadn't really considered what this would do to my sit spots and sitting down to breakfast later.
Eventually he decided I had had enough. I was gathered into his arms and cuddled until my sobs had turned into sniffles, and then he showed me just how much spanking turns him on. (Smirk) But that is a good thing. We have come a long way. It's no longer a want. It's a need.
Truly I didn't sit comfortably for a good, long while. In fact, most of the day I felt an inner burn. But it was like giving a droopy flower a long drink. It revived me and gave me strength to carry on in the face all our stresses.
I've had a couple of 'quicky spanky sessions' since, just hand spankings, and they have enabled me to feel topped up and on the straight and narrow.
However -
This morning whilst I was out down in the town doing a bit of shopping, and happily thinking that Dan was out in the garden doing some mowing etc, Dan did something most unlike him.
He Googled me! Truthfully, he Googled my new alter-ego Sarah Coltman. He then Googled Ami Starsong!
Minelle, if you are reading this, you may need to send me a Get out of Jail Free Card as well! I shall probably end up carrying a cushion round with me all day tomorrow!
Dan has never shown any interest in reading my blog posts, not even at the beginning. Occasionally I read him bits and I will sometimes read him someone else's blog. But he has always said he doesn't want to read what I write.
He doesn't want to read my stories either, and has always seemed very happy just to play a supporting role.
Gulp.
Till now.
He read the first three chapters of my book! He grinned in an evil way as he imparted this information during lunch. So he then went and read a considerable a chunk from my blog.
I am not able to relate our ensuing conversation, but my bottom immediately felt like it needed reassurance.
I shall never live this down. Ever.
I am soooo glad I always say to people that they have to make up their own minds just how much is fantasy and how much is based on truth.
In my defence, I would like to say that stories are much more fun when practical research has been undertaken. More authentic. N'est ce pas?
But just cast a thought my way tomorrow morning when Dan reaches, as he is certain to do, for the worst weapon of ass destruction he can lay his hands on.
This is my link, which I haven't yet had time to attach in a proficient and professional manner at the side of my blog in case you might be interested in going to my new writer's blog.
http://sarahcoltman.blogspot.co.uk
