Wednesday, February 27, 2019

My Beloved Ironing

Even though my sister doesn't even own an iron, I have three. What can I say! I need to tell you about my love of ironing and then I want to know which homekeeping task melts your butter. 

The weather here is gorgeous........... sunny, blue skies, but oh, so cold. So I am ironing as I watch a movie on Amazon Prime. Entertained, but getting things accomplished is just my style. My history with ironing goes way back to my childhood. Walk with me here down memory lane. 

My mother loved to iron. Our clothes required such attention as it was a time before permanent press and dryers that took away those wrinkles. She ironed in the dining room stacking the pressed clothes in stacks for each of her daughters. She taught me how to iron pillowcases and my father's handkerchiefs. We even had a mangle down in the basement that was not used, but nonetheless, we had one! The mangle could be used to iron sheets, tablecloths and such. 

The memories flood back as I write. First of all, I was always drawn to the scent of freshly ironed clothes. Ah! My mother would stack the clothes and just walking by would give me a wonderful scent. When we were going on a family vacation road trip, I could count on spending time in the dining room taking in that scent. Today when I iron, I use an Egyptian linen spray when ironing in an attempt to capture my mother, her ironing and just being close to her again. 

One summer while in middle school, I was reading Daphne DuMaurier's Rebecca. As the story reached the climax, I left my bed where I had been reading and went to sit in the dining room as my mother ironed. She asked if I was okay and I replied that the story was a little frightening and I wanted to be with other people. She smiled and continued ironing. 

Once married, my ironing stories continued. I could not iron Jack's military shirts as they had to have a "military press" requiring special creases at definite points. In those early days, we pinched pennies to have them laundered and pressed. By that time, I rivaled my mother in my ironing ability. I was good. 

I used my ironing board when toddlers were little. Securely anchored, the board held things I was working on and safe from the reach of little ones. Ingenious! Ironing and my love of long Sunday afternoons of baseball went hand in hand. I listened to many a game as I ironed. Entertained and stacking crisp, clean clothes were wonderful. 

I do have one horrid story about ironing. I did iron Jack's collared shirts and enjoyed that. One rainy Sunday, I was watching Ken Burns' Civil War and become a little too involved. Hence a scorch mark on a favorite shirt of his! 

When we lived on the other side of the country at the top of a high rise, I found great glee when I had the luxury of putting not one, but two irons down the laundry chute 24 stories up. I listened to those irons fall all the way to the dumpster. Broken and useless, the irons had to go. The management told me to go ahead and dispose of them using the chute. I did not argue. After that episode, I decided to upgrade my choice of irons.

When I have written about our laundry disagreements and Jack's trying to take over that job until golf really takes his time, ironing is one thing he leaves completely alone. Now that makes my day.

I have been bent over that ironing board in a fun gg and once seriously spanked for my sassy talk as the steam came off that iron and soon, my bottom!

So now it is time for us to listen to your favorite homekeeping task and the memories brought back. The comment box is waiting and so am I.


Friday, February 22, 2019

The Brightening of My Day

Yes, I am still here. Things are always happening around here. Nearing now post # 500, I am pulling away from blogland. After almost six years of blogging, I feel the pull of so many other things.  New bloggers might be in the forecast. Stay tuned! 

This morning we enjoyed coffee in bed. Our beautiful vista was engulfed in angry clouds and the wind made the wind chimes dance. Then the sleet pelted the windows and I pulled the covers up tight continuing to enjoy my coffee a little more. 

I am living with a golfer who is not on the golf course. Winter is still going strong here and the next sun break is not until the second week in March. We have discussed this before. The man of mine doesn't have enough to keep him busy until he can turn his attention to the garden and the golf course. So he turns that blue-eyed attention to me. He got out of bed and put one of his pillows on the side of the bed patting it several times. He came around to my side and he has my attention. He helps me from bed and takes me around to his side. Over I go as he bares my bottom and a big spanking begins. He is telling me that he hears no sass or bossiness and that is a good thing. I am yelping and doing a little laughing, but only a little. He tells me he wants all of that peace to continue.   He continues to spank scooting me back into position. He says that beginning the day this way is so healthy and good. A spanking sets the tone for the day and he can tell it will be a great day even without the golf. He says he wants to begin each day this way. He feels great and his wife is sweet and calm, but very sore. 

My Jack heads to the shower and I stand looking out the window to the continuing storm feeling loved and determined to keep that smile on my face all day long as I rub my backside. Just a little glimpse inside our home today! Blogging may be sluggish, but spanking is going strong!


Wednesday, February 6, 2019

Bare Bottom State Park

A new blogger literally breathes new life into blogland and our newest blogger Shell has written a wonderful story about her castle spanking. When I finished reading and commenting on her post, I began to think about our own outdoor spankings. Another thing I became very much aware of is that my Jack was always a spanko............

The more I thought about it, the more incidents came flooding back. I began to keep a big list and then actually began a spanking timeline. Why hadn't I done this before? We were like any other young couple in love......... teasing, playing and testing one another! The timeline of spankings way before we knew anything about ttwd began to be quite impressive. Yes, I have always been a spanko, but in fact, so has my Jack. The more I walked down memory lane, the more spankings I could list. Most were the fun kind, but only most! Wow!

So come with me as we make this walk. We were newly engaged and very much in love. We were in our early college years and we loved to ski. Jack was a beautiful skier, graceful and smooth. I was the "stem-christy" girl that just could not bear to go straight downhill, preferring to traverse my way down. Jack would encourage me to point those skis down the hill, but I would shake my head and continue traversing. Regardless, we did have fun and night skiing was our favorite. We had a day with no afternoon classes and could leave before noon. Dinner all packed, skis on the back of our little VW bug and away we would go. First stop was our favorite hamburger place and then we headed east to the mountains. The ski areas were about an hour and a half away and we made that little bug fly. 

Just about three miles from the ski area, Jack did something completely unexpected. He pulled into a deserted, snowy state park and parked the car. I asked what he was doing. He said to get out and come with him. I put my snow pants on, as well as my ski jacket, wooly hat and warm gloves. Jack took my hand and off we went. The snow was a little deep, but we were soon under the limbs of big evergreen trees protected from snow accumulation and prying eyes of others. However, there were no others........... just the two of us and a little red bug with skis on the back. 

Once under the cover of the trees, Jack told me that forever more this park would be called Bare Bottom State Park. He unbuttoned my ski pants pulling them and my panties down to my knees. I started to laugh and then he started to spank. My bottom was cold and bright pink bordering on red. The sound seemed to echo throughout the park, but it was still just the two of us and maybe a worried squirrel, raccoon or deer or two. When he stopped spanking, he helped me get dressed and we hurried to the car. We skied late that night and honked the horn as we hurried past the park on our way down the mountain late that night. 

He did say that from this point forward, we would call this park "Bare Bottom State Park". 

Many years later we were headed to ski with our family and Jack winked at me as we quickly drove past that park on the interstate just before reaching the ski areas at the summit. I appreciate the wink and smile from my man as he too remembered a stop so long ago. 

Have you walked down memory lane lately? Do share.