50 minutes of activity a day is my Master’s order. The other day I could not do that. My schedule was to work literally from 8:00 am until 12:00 am. I did try to walk when I could, but I only squeezed in about 30 minutes while on the job.

Master was understanding. He knew I had done my best. He suggested a pedometer. I have one (somewhere). I think he and I should discuss this further. I have heard that people who take 10,000 steps a day are generally healthy. Perhaps this could be a goal. Master and I also discussed ways I could get in extra walking, like parking the car at the far end of the parking lot so I would walk further.

However, even with these ideas, I am still making it my goal to do 50 minutes a day. I know there will be times when it will be impossible, but I want to make sure that I don’t use that as an excuse to not do all I can to comply with my Master’s orders. In truth, he only wants what’s good for me, what makes me better and stronger.

The next day (after the one where I could only walk 30 minutes) I moved my son into a college dorm. I am quite happy with his choice. The only thing I don’t like about the campus is that it is very hilly.There were a lot of steps on the outside of the buildings, just walking from the parking lot to the dorm itself. Add that to the fact that my son’s room is on the 4th floor, and you have a lot of steps. I am a bit impatient with elevators, so I took the stairs most of the time. I noticed that I was not breathing any harder than my athletic sons after climbing all of those stairs.

Thank you, Master, for pushing me to make me healthy and strong.

No, not Master. My oldest son, A, is now moved into his college dorm. Saturday morning we were up early and on the road at 7:30 am. We stopped and bought a foam mattress cover for his bed before we went to the college, were we met his roommate and family. With the help of upperclassmen, we had his stuff all in his room in minutes. His room, of course, is on the 4th floor. A long walk, but many hands make light work.

After we had everything in the room, I left it up to the boys to decide how they wanted it. I could have arranged the room, but then they would just put it the way they wanted it anyway. In the process we realized that A had forgotten his box fan and that he had only 10 hangers. I went to Walmart and bought another fan (we could use his at home anyway) and hangers, as well as other things I needed.

We enjoyed a trip to the bookstore, where I pointed out a nice sweatshirt I told A would make a good Christmas gift. We also bought several things, some T-shirts (including one to send to Master), a key chain, a billfold and a baseball cap for A’s younger brother, and a window cling for the van.

A spent the day with his roommate and others from his dorm. My presence in the group seemed a bit awkward, so I went with my younger son to the gym. He played his Gameboy while I walked my 50 minutes. We went to a picnic for everyone. Afterwards there was a welcome for the new students and their parents, then it was time to say goodbye. I got my hug from A. He is not a hugger, but I told him he was required to this day. I didn’t make a big scene. To be honest, it would have been easy to cry, but to do so would have been an embarrassment to him, (and my other son) and I would not do that. So we hugged and I headed home.

So, now how do I feel? Well, weird. I don’t feel empty. I don’t feel glad, or sad, that A is gone. I guess I feel it is the right thing at the right time. A thinks he’s ready. I think he’s ready. I have confidence in the college A has chosen. Things are as they should be.

Do you remember falling in love? The goose bumps, your insides turning to jello? It’s a wonderful feeling.

Master and I have been together for two years, and he still gives me the chills. I don’t know how he does it. Don’t misunderstand. It’s not all floating on air happiness. We have to deal with life and everyday issues. And yet, still I can be thinking about him and am just overwhelmed by that “feeling” that’s hard to describe. Sometimes it just feels like waves of emotion unexpectedly washing over me.

Somehow, I think this is different from the garden variety “falling in love” feeling. There is something unique about this man’s ability to touch my soul. The contact can be so strong. I fear that my abilities of composition do not do justice to the thoughts in my mind or the feelings in my heart.

But as to that ability to touch someone in a special way? Just know, Master, that you still got it!

I just finished reading First to Die, by James Patterson, and once again the bad guy was a sexual sadist. This man controlled/used/abused both his first and second wife, and he had his wife commit several murders as part of a “game”. I have also seen sadists as the bad guys in the works of Linda Fairstein and Dean Koontz. It seems that sadists are fair game.

What’s wrong with consenting adults living a lifestyle of their choosing? For the most part, people involved in bdsm do not try to convince others of the “rightness” of their lifestyle, or convert people to their way of thinking. Also, the vast majority of people in the lifestyle would not even considering forcing someone else to go along with their games. Unfortunately, it seems that it’s okay to portray them that way.

The women, or subs, in these books are also portrayed as pitiable creatures who have no self respect, and receive no respect from others, especially not from their dominant partners. Again, this is a fallacy. I demand respect from others (especially my children) and I would not be willing to submit to a partner who did not respect me. Again, what’s in the books is far from the truth of the lifestyle.

But perhaps a book that actually portrays the lifestyle as it is would be considered too boring, or even old fashioned, with the female submitting to the male. I just find it somewhat frustrating and unfair the way we are painted by the writers of our time.

Meetings and schedules
Disrupted routine
Past knowledge forgotten
Swollen feet
Sore legs
Voice decimated by overuse.
Welcome to MY first day back.

This is how I felt after the first day of school (with kids). I longed only to sink into my Master’s arms, to be enveloped by him. I wished to hear him tell me I was a good girl, and I had earned my rest.