LOL - l do Love our Lifestyle!

Welcome and thank you for coming! Whether this is your first time or you’re by daily, I’m really happy that you’re here. I’m always happy when anyone stops by.

Love our Lifestyle, there’s a statement that fits me to a tee! I have loved this lifestyle since before I knew that it was a real life style. I remember making up my first ‘spanking story’ when I was four and it’s been on my mind ever since.

 

For me the ‘perfect’ spanking relationship (and I know that there is no such thing) involves many types of spankings – sexy, fun, reconnecting, stress relieving … and for me, just a touch of discipline. I know, I’ve seen, how spanking in a relationship can bring a couple so much closer. 

 

I guess I really want to speak to those of you who know you want the lifestyle, but can’t quite bring yourselves to ask your partner for it. Please, do it! I really don’t think you’ll regret giving it a try. But I also know that having someone to discuss the lifestyle with is very, very helpful. Having many, many blogs when I began was a Godsend. So try to find someone to discuss your experiences with, begin a blog yourself or email me – I love discussing spanking. 

elisspeaks@yahoo.com 

And if you find yourself with time to read go back and look at some of my archives, you have fifteen years’ worth to check out.

 

Here are a few samples for you to click on and see if you like them. 

Ten Important Things

Going without Prozac

Perfect Day

The importance of touch

Thank you so much for stopping by and please leave a comment if possible, they are so welcomed!

Disaster Averted, almost

It was such a simple everyday thing. I made a grocery order and picked it up. This was a larger than normal order so I have bags all over the counter as I brought everything in. That’s when it happened.

 

How can something happen in an instant, yet go in slow motion at the same time? A large, and I mean large, glass jar of spaghetti sauce rolled across the counter and fell toward my tile floor. I’ve seen glass jars hit my floor before. They don’t just break, they explode. I could see all this sauce splashing on all the cabinet doors, my pale green wall and in my tiny kitchen making its way to most of my appliances. I could see hours of mopping up and cleaning all the nooks and crannies it was bound to cover – and that’s not mentioning the shards of glass everywhere.

 

But instead of what I was dreading something totally different happened. This huge falling glass jar which weighed, and I’m estimating here, just over a ton, landed on my big toe rather than the floor. At least the jar didn’t break, as for my toe…

Curse words were said. But thank goodness I don’t think the toe broke either. It’s bruised and tender, but it will heal. And once it was all over with, including the cursing, I decided the sore toe was way better than all the cleaning I would have been left with if the toe had been somewhere else. 

 

As I’ve said before – no good can come from me being in the kitchen!

Staying comfortable

I’ve never been one to ‘hate’ winter. I don’t hate it now, but you might want to check with me again at the end of February. I don’t have to go out and fight the cold daily like so any do. Plus I live in the south. But, yes, it does get cold here. I think the teens and twenties count as cold, but admittedly it doesn’t usually stay that cold for long stretches. We can sit here and wish for snow because if we are blessed with two to three inches it will often be 50 degrees the next day and it’s all gone.

 

One of my biggest questions when I do go out in the cold is whether or not to take a coat. I remember once when LJ and Collin were here visiting from NYC. I watched as they got ready to visit another friend. They had on thick socks and heavy shoes. They had on T-shirts and pulled on heavy sweaters over that. Then they wrapped their scarves around their necks and crossed it over their chests before pulling on a heavy coat and zipped it up. They secured knit caps on their heads and pulling on leather gloves. Finally as they got ready to walk out the door I asked, “You think you’re warm enough to make it to the car?” which stood about four feet from the door. Only then did it dawn on them that they weren’t going to have to walk blocks and blocks in the bitter cold.

I’m not wild about coats. I can heat up my car before I get in and I have heated seats. I’d much rather freeze hurrying from the car to the entrance of wherever I’m going than to drag a big coat around as I shop. Sweaters are good, I can deal with that and I usually have a coat in the car for emergencies. But I rarely wear one, maybe once or twice each winter.

 

What about where you live? Do you have to wear a coat all winter? For those of you who are tired of snow way before Christmas, I wish you a mild winter. For those of us who long for snow, I hope we get to see a little.

Nothing

Is it fair to write a blog post about nothing? What if that’s all you got? I’m writing because sometimes once you begin something will come to you. Doesn’t seem to be working. The weather is dreary, and I’m having real trouble with writer’s block. 

 

There are problems within my publishing company. It mostly rumors and hearsay. Some things I believe others I’m not sure of. But I don’t know what to do about sending my next book in and it just gets my writing juices in a jumble. 

 

When I can’t write I get really down. Between that and the weather and the never ending covid situation, I’m struggling. Basically this is my life right now.

I'd rather be braless

There is too much going on! For the last eighteen months or so staying home has been the norm. I didn’t like that we had to, but I’m such a home body I didn’t mind doing it. Now I’ve been out and about every day for the past week and more. Some of the stuff was lots of fun, but there were doctor visits too. Nothing wrong, just regular check-ups. Plus my Covid booster which I was happy to have, but I still had to put on a bra and shoes and leave the house – not fun!

 

Some of the fun stuff was a day trip with Nick to a beautiful estate not too far away. The gardens are amazing! 

And then Mollie invited me over to get a few pictures of my grand dogs. Lucy is really growing. Look at these pretty babies.

But now I want to just stay home – sweats, no bra, warm socks  and time to write for a while – books, blogs, emails… I don’t care but that’s the plan for the next few days!

Simple questions can sometimes get you thinking.

I enjoyed this meme that Ronnie shared. Some meme are just light hearted fun but every once and a while you stumble onto a question that you really needed to answer.

One of the first to welcome you to blogging?

Although I found Bonnie first, I can’t think about the beginnings of my blogging days without thinking of Eva at Nothing Random. She was brand new at the time also and we became fast friends. She challenged me, encouraged me, taught me the ins and outs of blogging and we emailed one another constantly during the day. Over the years we visited in one another’s homes and vacationed together. It was an amazing friendship that blossomed for me in my middle age and I’ll always be grateful.

There were others here at the very beginning, Paul, Theresa, Grace and Ceeci, they were, are still, dear to me.

Knickers up/on or down/off?

I always liked to start with them up, but that never seemed to last long.

Current favorite - wood or leather?

Wood is just fine for fantasy, but I’ll always go with leather in real life.

Have you ever gotten spanked for swearing?

 

Nope, I don’t swear much and Nick never cared.

Have you ever been caned?

Well… we have several canes and Nick has used them on me. But I’m really not sure of the answer to this question.

What do you get spanked with the most?

We don’t partake anymore, but the dogging bat was always one of our favorites. 

Have you been spanked more than once in a day?

Yes I have.

Have you ever asked to be spanked for something you did wrong?

Yes, but very seldom. 

On average how many times are you spanked a month?

Now days, zero.

How long have you been practicing TTWD ?

Such a thought provoking question. We began in 2006 and we gave it a truly good effort for the next eight to ten years. Then we spent a few more years starting and stopping, communicating and not communicating. Then I spent another year being alternately mad, excited, frustrated, hopeful, full of anticipation, joyful and depressed. All those emotions slamming me in different directions day after day got to be too much. I love Nick more than anything, but for my own mental well-being I stepped away from TTWD. We are still happily married, but I still find myself at times wishing we still had that special closeness that TTWD brings.

A beautiful little girl

I’ve had several ask about my great-niece. She had her first brain surgery on July 6. The surgery was looking for the areas of her brain where the epileptic seizures originated. So 17 leads were placed in the brain and removed a week later. But this didn’t tell the doctors what they needed to know.

 

A second surgery was planned about six weeks ago, but when they arrived at the hospital they found out the surgery had to be postponed – covid had taken over the hospital.  So the second surgery finally took place about three weeks ago. This time they had to remove a portion of her skull, place a ‘mesh’ on the brain to continue looking for the parts that start the seizures. A week later part of the skull was removed again and the mesh removed so they could study the data.

 

Two areas were identified. One spot was the half the size of a man’s fist the other smaller, but in a ‘more difficult place’ as they put it. Surgery was done – I have no details. I don’t know if the places were removed, ‘blasted’ or what. But I know they were so very relieved when her dad spoke to as she was waking up and told her he loved her and she answered, “I love you too, Daddy.” A few hours late she walked to the bathroom.

 

I have no information about whether or not the surgery lessened the seizures, but I know the biggest problem for this little one was the shaving off of her beautiful long blonde hair. She says she’s so ugly now with no hair and the scar. What do you say to an eight year old (I hadn’t realized she was that old)? 

 

Her mother is a part time photographer and decided to do a photoshoot of her. She told her while she was still as pretty as a princess she now had the scar of a warrior that would soon be hidden when her hair grew back – but that she would know it was there. A sign of the fierce warrior she had been as a child.  

 

And with her mother’s permission here is her picture.

A meme from the old days

I came across this from years back and thought I'd try it again. I'd love for others to try it too.

Who’s the oldest?

 

Nick is five and a half years older. I’m his child bride.

Who was interested first?

 

I guess he was, I’m not really sure. We had run into each other at a local bar and at friend’s houses and we’d talked. But he was the one who called for a date.

 

Same high school?

 

Oh no, I went to the good one.

 

Most sensitive?

 

I would say me. But sometimes I wonder. We’re still not good at opening up to one another.

 

Worse temper?

 

Neither one of us has much of a temper. We just tend to go with the flow.

More social?

 

That would be me. But since Covid, I not very social either. We do have one couple we go out with when we can.

 

More stubborn?

 

Maybe that would be me. 

 

Wakes up first?

 

Nick! Always Nick. If he was in bed when I woke up I would be checking his pulse.

 

Bigger family?

 

That would be Nick – there are five kids in his family. This really comes in handy as they take care of his dad.

 

Flowers?

 

He doesn’t send them often. Maybe once a year or less. But that’s fine with me.

Cooks the most?

 

We do both cook a little. He probably does a little more than I do.

 

Cries more? 

 

Now that would be me. Not about real things, I'm very stoic about real things. But sad stories or show often have me in tears.

 

Better singer?

 

Me! It’s not that I can sing well but he doesn’t sing at all. Not in the shower, not with the radio, not even happy birthday.

 

Said I love you first?

 

I guess we’ve been together a long time. I don’t remember.

 

Better driver?

 

I drive just fine, but I don’t like doing it so I’d rather him do most of the driving.

 

Hogs the remote?

 

I always have the remote. I don’t mind going up and down on the volume when it needs it. Also he does a lot of talking when I’m trying to hear the TV, and I don’t mind hitting pause and talking a while. And I know which are which.

Clothes and shoe hoarder? 

 

I think both of us are a little guilty of this. But he can wear all the old clothes he has since his weight hasn’t changed in the past forty years. Let’s just say mine has. 

 

 

Why I wanted to drive a forklift

Some of you asked about my desire to be a forklift driver. I had a very specific reason for wanting this job. This was back over forty years ago. I was working for a veterinary as his technician. I’d been there about five years. I love the work but I was beginning to realize it couldn’t be a life-long career, the pay was low and there were no benefits back then. I really loved the Vet though, I had a big crush on him even though he had a temper and knew how to use it. But I did begin to think of other possible careers. 

I was just beginning to think about what I wanted to do when a tragedy hit the vet hospital. Doc’s twenty-year-old son was killed by a drunk driver just one month after he’d been married. We were a small hospital and it devastated us all. Doc, as you can imagine, was full of rage and nowhere to dump it. He couldn’t be ugly to the clients, he couldn’t scream at his family. That left his employees. Doc and I were close, I could usually talk him down when he got angry but it seemed constant. I talked to the clients who asked me about his son, I talked with Doc’s wife and his younger son. I felt like all I did was talk and talk and talk. I’d finally had all I could take and I told Doc I was leaving. I remember his body just sagged as he realized just how horrible he’d been acting. I still cared for him, but I just couldn’t stay. 

 

But I’d finally decided what I wanted to do. I was going to learn to be a forklift driver. It seemed perfect. The attraction - I could go in do my job and not talk to anyone! That’s what I craved more than anything, the idea that I wouldn’t have to talk at all!

But something happened. I never learned to drive a forklift, instead I ended up becoming a teacher. I wanted a job where I’d never have to talk to anyone and I became a teacher. I never have figured out exactly how that happened.

About that O2 level

I had a couple of people asking about the answers on my meme. Some wanted to know about the talk with the nurse about my 02 levels. I want to know more about it myself. Mollie pestered her dad into getting me a new iWatch about a year ago. It has all the bells and whistles, it checks for Afib, it detects a fall and calls for help, it tells me how fast my heart beat is and it checks blood oxygen levels. I never gave much thought to these O2 levels, but I took them occasionally. And usually they were between 95 and 100. Seemed fine. But lately that hasn’t been the case. Much of the time the reading are in the high to mid-80's. And once, I repeat only once, back last January it dropped to 68% blood oxygen. The watch keeps records for the year.

I have never felt a thing wrong. I have no cold or covid symptoms. I do not feel short of breath in any way. Basically I don’t know if I need a doctor or a new watch. When I did talk to the nurse about it, she had me come in just so she could check it and at that time it was 96, and my watch said the same thing. My doctor wasn’t there that day and no one’s called me back so I guess they’re not worried.    

 

I check my heart rate too. The range bothers me, usually when I check it in the 70's. But last Friday the range went from 46 to 111 and on Saturday it went from 58 to 175, it was only that high for just a minute. Again, do I need a new watch or what? I have no desire to spend time at the hospital for test these day. So for the most part, I’m doing nothing. I hope that solves it.  

                    

Love a good meme

I've always love a good meme. Go check out Ronnie, Hermione and Morningstar's answers.

~~

What can you see out of your window?

Our back yard surrounded by the woods behind our house.

Choose five words to describe yesterday.

 

Reading, cleaning, walking, not cooking, relaxing

The most memorable deaths in your lifetime (other than family)?

 

JFK, Martin Luther King, Jr., Bobby Kennedy, Elvis

Tell us 3 things about yourself that your readers don't know.

 

If I haven’t written it by now, I probably don’t want you to know. Hmm… I wanted to be a forklift driver, I kinda want a Golden Retriever puppy and I kinda don’t, Sunday morning at the most stressful time of the week for me.

What was the last conversation you had with someone?

 

Talked with a nurse yesterday about my low oxygen levels.

Tell us about a kindness from someone.

 

I didn’t have my rewards card at the grocery store yesterday and the lady in front of me offered her.

What was the last song you heard?

 

Hot Stuff – when watching a little of Dancing with the Stars

What is the most expensive item you have bought in the past month?

 

I finally broke down and got a new phone. They aren’t cheap these days!

What three things would you take to a desert island?

 

A good survival kit, a stack of books, GPS satellite phone to get me home.

What are your plans for the weekend.

 

Nick invited his golf buddies for dinner tonight (I don’t  like to cook or entertain) and he invited one of them to spend the night (I don’t have overnight guest.) So I guess I’m going to spend the weekend outside my comfort zone.

 

 

The Inexpensive Wife

Do you have a guilty pleasure? Is there something that your loving partner complains about you overspending on? Mine came up the other day and I had to laugh. We’ve had our first really cool crisp mornings, I love them. I love the bedroom being cold and the bed with lots of blankets and quilts and a nice warm husband in it.

 

But when I get to my writing room I love my gas logs on to warm my feet. This year, before I even asked, Nick turn on the gas and lit the pilot for me. Heaven… but he added as he left the room, “Don’t run it all the time!”

I had to laugh. I remember well when things were pretty tight money-wise. House payments, car payments, college tuition for LJ all when Nick was out of work for nearly two years. But Nick and I were raised by parents who had lived through the great depression and we knew how to both cut back and save.

 

It was just instinct for him to remind me to watch the gas bill. But I didn’t let him get away with it. I told him I’d rather save money by him not sending me expensive flowers every 

week, to stop buying me jewelry, we wouldn’t buy a new car every few years or taking exotic vacations. Maybe I’d cut down on the designer clothes and forget about the Louboutin shoes. Except, he doesn’t sent me flowers. I don’t wear any jewelry except my wedding ring. I get a car every ten years or so and the last one I got was my first new car ever. As for vacations, if we go anywhere it will be his choice. I’m a home body. I haven’t bought new clothes in a year and I’ve never had designer anything. As for Louboutin shoes… forget it! I’m more of a Skechers girl.

So since I’m not demanding any of those things, I asked him, “Just where should we put the money we'll save if I cut down on the gas bill? The golf course perhaps?”

This was not a fight in anyway, just friendly teasing. I have no doubt that through the cold weather months, each time the gas bill comes, Nick will come to the writing room telling me the exactly how much the bill is, and I’ll answer, “And worth every penny!” 

 

 

Where did the dark go?

Not long ago I was having trouble sleeping. This is very unusual for me. I tossed and turned for a while before getting up to get something to drink. I didn’t bother to turn on any lights as I made my way to the kitchen and I saw something that I’d never realized before. I couldn’t believe the number of lights that were on in our house.

Little lights everywhere!

I started counting. We had on twenty-seven lights on in the house. Twenty-seven! We still have a landline – don’t ask me why. So that accounted for four of the tiny lights, one on the base and one on each of the three phones. The kitchen was bright with lights on the refrigerator giving me the internal temperature of both the fridge and the freezer. Then there was a clock on the microwave, and on the over as well as the small screen Alexa Mollie gave us. 

 

I continued my tour. In my writing room there was one of the phones, but also the clock on the coffee maker, the electric fence base for the grand dogs and the sweep up vacuum.  One spare bedroom had a cordless vacuum who’s charging light shone brightly. And the other bedroom had a digital clock.

 

The living room had a clock, the TV box, the Apple TV, a charger I have for the phone and a Kindle as well as an internet booster box with three little lights. Both bathrooms have a small night light and then in our bedroom were the lights on the TV and box again and two red lights that shine out from the back of the TB. Nick has his clock and the phone and base on his side and on my side of the bed I have a power strip for my phone charger and my… my… well a few toys. 

I miss dark.

I couldn’t believe how many of these insidious little specks of light were in my house. All using vampire energy I suppose. I’m just wondering if I’m the only one. When you turn out all the lights tonight, take another swing through the house and see how many lights you have.

My connection to the Met Gala

Okay, you have to dig for the connection, but it’s more than I’ve ever had before. On the afternoon of the Gala, LJ text me and asked, ‘Are you familiar with the Met Gala?’

 

I told him that I was, but not to invite me because I didn’t have a thing to wear. He answered, ‘Watch the red carpet and you might see my work.’ I know LJ’s work and this made no sense so I waited for the next text.

 

LJ works at Little Island in NYC, a new beautiful park financed solely by Barry Dillard. Barry Dillard is married to Diane von Furstenberg. She owns a lovely building near Little Island and gave one floor of this building to house the offices of Little Island. Actually it’s a big open space where they all work.

 

On the afternoon of the Gala, the elevator opened and a somewhat frazzled woman rushed out asking loudly, “Does anyone here know how to tie a bow tie?”

 

Everyone stared in silence until LJ spoke up, “Yes, I can tie a bow tie.” This was a skill he picked up as a theater major in college.

 

“Come with me!” the woman called and they headed to the penthouse, Diane Von Furstenberg’s apartment. It seemed that neither this lovely designer nor any of her assistance could tie a bow tie! It was actually Diane’s granddaughter's boyfriend in need, and after having him sit – as LJ said, ‘This guy had to be nine feet tall!’ LJ tied him a lovely bow tie was profusely thanked by the family and went back to work.

Living in New York City is something I’d never want to do, but LJ loves it. And I have to admit he does have some interesting moments.

It began as such a nice day...

I woke slowly and peacefully. I love the days when I don’t have to go anywhere. Nick had taken the day off and was going golfing with his brother and others up in the mountains that afternoon. I ate breakfast, watched a little news and some Kelly and Ryan then heading to my writing room to get my day started. I had just settled in with my coffee when Mollie called. She never calls during a school day so I worried immediately.

It seems she had gotten a call from her neighbor saying that Maggie, her older golden was outside the fence and running around near the road. Mollie couldn’t leave and asked if I could drive over and put Maggie in the house for the day. Well, of course I could. Since Nick wasn’t leaving for a few more hours he came too and we got the dogs in fine and headed home. Mollie’s house is about thirty-five minutes away so driving and visiting with the dogs a little took over an hour. But we’re good parents and we didn’t really mind. I thought I was back to my peaceful day once we got home – but no.

 

I was getting on the computer when Nick called on the phone, from the bedroom. He just said, “Could you come back here?” I found him pale, sweaty and in pain. He wanted his shirt off and then he was on the floor. He asked for a cold cloth and I’m trying to figure out what the hell is going on when he mumbles out, “Kidney stone.” He had never had one before but he was pretty sure.

 

I called his brother to tell him Nick would not be golfing and then we were off to the hospital. Not where I wanted to be exactly, but it’s not like we had a choice. Got him checked in and we saw that they had the large waiting room – all openings sealed well, with a door and a sign saying it was to be kept closed at all times. That was for the covid symptom patients. There were two smaller waiting room set up for others – kidney stones, broken bones, suspected heart attacks and those needing stitches. That and the hallway, which soon became full. We probably waited only twenty minutes before a nurse took his vitals, heard his symptoms and asked for a urine sample. This nurse said that of the ten bays they had in the ER, eight of them had covid patients on ventilators waiting for ICU beds.

We were sent back to our little waiting room to wait and wait and wait. Soon we’d been there for two hours, then four hours, then six hours, then eight, then ten… It wasn’t until around the ninth hour that anything was done. They took blood and took him for a CT scan. As we were nearing hour eleven the doctor spoke with us – with truly excellent news. There was blood in the urine, that combined with the symptoms caused them to believe that he had passed a kidney stone but the CT scan showed that there were no more to come! All lab results were spot on where they should be and there was no infection at all.

 

We stopped to pay the co-pay and walked out the door almost exactly eleven hours after we’d walked in. It was not the best of days – simply sitting for eleven hours was hell, being exposed to heaven only knows was very scary (I was double masked), and worrying about it all made for one of the longest days I can remember.

 

So how’s Nick feeling? I couldn’t ask him the next morning, despite sleeping about an hour late he was at work by 4 AM. As he told me the night before when I urged him to stay home and rest the next day, “I’d hate to stay home and break my forty-four record.” 

 

It was forty-four years ago that Nick took his last sick day. He wouldn’t have then but his boss insisted. Nick had dislocated his shoulder while skiing the night before and his arm was not in use, it was snowing and sleeting that morning and Nick had a straight drive car. But if someone had offered to come get him, he would certainly have gone in.

 

I’m married to a tough old bird and in the ER or not, I’m glad we were there together.

 

*A huge shout out to the doctors and nurses at our hospital yesterday. Yes, our wait was long, but those doctors nurses were working their butts off. Not only the crowd waiting to be seen, but some were down right abusive. Some were shouting because they'd been waiting nearly an hour and they wanted attention NOW! One was even calling one of the nurses a bitch and coughing on others then claiming to have covid. How the nurses kept from putting a fist through her face I'll never know. I sure wanted to.

Well, Duh...

** Warning, this post could be thought by some to be slightly political although I don't mean it that way. However you see it, please know this is not a political blog and will NOT become one.

I’ve had my vaccine of course.

 

There was no measles or chicken pox vaccine when I was little. I had both and the measles nearly did me in. I was sick as a dog. Four years old and to weak and sick to get out of bed on my own for nearly two weeks. Scared my mother badly!

 

I got a small pox vaccine and have the scar to prove it. If you’re under about forty-five you don’t have a scar. That’s because it worked.

 

I had my vaccine for polio when I was about six. That disease terrified everyone, especially those with children. Picture of kids in iron lungs still scare me.

 

We went overseas when I was twelve and I got tons of vaccines, I’m not sure what all. But shortly before we left there was a cholera outbreak in the country we were to visit, so I got a cholera vaccine too. 

 

Growing up as a proud, tree-climbing, bike-riding, tree-house building tomboy I’ve had my share of tetanus shots over the years. 

 

I’ve had a flu vaccine each year for at least the past twenty at least.

 

I’ve had my pneumonia vaccine.

 

I’ve had both my Covid vaccines. 

 

And most recently I had a shingles vaccine. 

 

With both of my last two vaccines my arm was pretty sore and I’ve had a little swelling in my lymph glands under that arm. It’s a little uncomfortable but nothing compared to having shingles or having a tube down my throat and possibly dying alone in a hospital.

My parents told me that they had prayed for a polio vaccine. I know I prayed for a Covid vaccine. We got one. It’s nearly ninety percent effective. But there are still so many dying. According to Google, 656,318 people in this country have died since Covid first got here. That’s equivalent to a little more tha two hundred eighteen 9-11 attacks.

 

I’ll stop now. Although if someone could tell me how getting a vaccine that could save your life and possible prevent you from passing the virus on to your grandparents, parents and children became political I’d like to know. Both the past and current president pushed and pushed for a vaccine. Both have taken it. Where’s the conflict?