Originally posted on 28th July 2016 Life has been crazy busy of late. Harry has been working all hours and, as well as trying to keep up with the business admin, I have had a lot of family commitments. There just haven't been enough hours in the day and we have both ended up exhausted by the time evening comes around. Harry bounces back as soon as his eyes are open but I am not a morning person at the best of times. I have to come back into the world s-l-o-w-l-y and with at least two cups of coffee. If I don't get enough sleep I am not nice to know, grouchy just doesn't cover it. Harry has been very helpful on the worst days, either by using his magic sleeping aid (why do we sleep like babies after a spanking?) or sending me to bed early. That's another of the many things I thought I would never write. When I first started reading blogs, I was astonished to find women being sent to bed by their husbands. There was no way I'd put up with that, absolutely not!
Unfortunately, Harry must have missed that memo because one night, not long after my first 'real' spanking, I was up late reading when he came into the room, saying I should go to bed; the next day was going to be busy and I needed my sleep. I said I'd just get to the end of the chapter first and carried on reading. It was a gripping book and, two chapters later, Harry came back and told me to go upstairs or I'd get a spanking. I protested that he couldn't do that, I'm not a child, and I would go to bed when I was ready and not before. I got spanked. The following evening, as he was leaving for a late session at the local sports centre, Harry told me that as I'd had a long, tiring, day he wanted me to be in bed by the time he got home. That did not go down well, as you can imagine, and I was quite determined I was not going to comply. Much later, I was immersed in my book when my phone buzzed beside me with a text alert: "I'm just leaving, you have fifteen minutes." My resolve melted away and I dived into bed just as Harry drew up onto the drive. He knew I'd only just made it but he kissed me and said, "Good girl." I know some of you melt when you hear that but I loathe it, it makes me cringe. That amuses Harry, who uses it as a non-impact means of letting me know who's in charge.
I really struggled with the bed time issue and Harry was patient but unrelenting. The learning curve continued something like this:
H: Rosie, time for bed. R: Okay, I just need to finish this, five minutes. H: Do you want a spanking? R: No, but... H: No buts. Go. Now. Still having trouble giving up control... H: Rosie, time for bed. R: Okay, I just need to... H: (smack) Off you go. R: Okay (kiss). Getting there...
H: Rosie, time for bed. R: Okay, night, night. H: Sleep tight (smooch) (pat, pat). Got it! Sweet dreams... I asked Harry if he recalled that first tussle. Laughing, he said he remembers me, hands on hips, full of indignation, quite convinced that sending me to bed was not within his remit. I remember the debate ending, with him calmly asking why I was still standing there arguing when I could be half way up the stairs! He had a chuckle about the following evening too. Rosie Thanks, NJ
Thank you for the kind comments on my last post; sorry I took so long to respond. We are still busy but it is manageable and we have been able to carve out some 'us' time. In theory, Harry works a four-day week but something usually comes up to put the mockers on that and Fridays become just another working day. Since the beginning of last month, though, he has been scrupulous in taking his day off and we have been enjoying lazy mornings, with no alarm going off at 5.45am. He has also reinstated 'Happy Weekend' meetings on Fridays. Those are mostly fun but a paddle usually makes an appearance at some point, for good measure. At the beginning of May, we took my 90-year-old mother for a long weekend in the West Country, where we were joined by our elder daughter and her partner. We stayed in a swish hotel, perched above a beautiful beach that had been one of our favourites in the surfing years. Nowadays, it's our daughter and her partner who surf, whilst Harry looks on admiringly. The weather was glorious.
The week leading up to the break had been hectic and, as we had an early start to our getaway, Harry decided I needed a dose of his sleep-inducing medicine to ensure an uninterrupted slumber the night before. Yes, I slept like a baby. Having only been spanked a few hours ago, I was surprised to see him sitting on the side of the bed with a paddle beside him when I came out of the bathroom the next morning. Apparently, I needed a reminder to keep calm over the next few days. Despite that reminder, I somehow managed to annoy Harry with some sassy remarks on the second night of our stay. He didn't say anything, just clapped his hands. I was pretty slow realising he was conducting a noise test but he was really fast bending me over the end of the bed, delivering a hard and fast flurry of swats. He doesn't usually spank in hotels. Since then, life has been uneventful and that's the way I like it. We took two weekend trips to our daughter's and her partner's cottage for more renovation work. It is nearly finished now and bears little resemblance to the near-wreck they took on. As usual, I accompanied our daughter on dog walking duties. The hedgerows and coastal areas are bursting with colour, as Mother Nature delivers her summer bounty. Not far from where this photo was taken is a small cove where seals come to bask on the rocks. We only saw one that morning, bobbing up and down in the shallows; the sun hadn't quite reached the rocks at that point.
Harry has to work a few hours today but I can't complain, after last week's five days off in a row. He'll be back late afternoon for the Happy Weekend meeting...
A few days ago, I happened to see on a friend's blogroll that there hadn't been a post on Rosie's are red for two months. I knew it had been a while but where had that time gone? I can tell you that March went by in a blur of all work and no play, as Harry took on a big project that meant working all hours and hiring extra help. I was very busy too, taking it all in my stride, until the second bout of snow sent me into the doldrums and I didn't seem able to shake off the gloom.
I was so glad when Good Friday came around and Harry had to take a four day break. We pulled up our metaphorical drawbridge and spent a lazy day together, starting off with coffee and croissants in bed. When I came back from the bathroom, Harry was sitting against the headboard with a pillow over his lap. He has a thing about spanking me fresh from the shower, before my body lotion has sunk in. He says it makes it easier, the same effect for less effort. I reminded him as I went over his lap that it had been three weeks since I had last been spanked. After just a few spanks he stopped and squeezed my bottom, first one cheek then the other. Then... H: Have you lost weight? R: Yes, I've been shedding the extra pounds I've put on since last summer. H: Well, stop! I don't want this lovely bottom wasting away. R: But I've only got two pounds to go! H: No!! No, no, no, no, no! Smack!! Smack, smack, smack, smack, smack! I didn't protest, best not to argue with a man when you're naked over his lap. I think three weeks is the longest I've been without a spanking in the last five years and I missed it. Evidently, Harry did too as he spanked twice more over the break. Then he was back to work, tying up the loose ends on the big job before returning to a more regular schedule. In the middle of the week, he sent me this text - the hearts were from me:
Oh, that red dress! I wore it for a reconnection once, with seamed stockings and red patent shoes. We both needed that spanking and I thought the dress and stockings would make a pleasing frame for the target area, giving Harry some extra interest. On that occasion he turned my bottom almost as red as the dress but since then it has mostly been worn for fun. The spanking that followed the text was bone-meltingly delicious. I'd had four delightful spankings in five days. My cup runneth over! And yet... When Harry overcame nature and nurture and started spanking me it made me happy, rejuvenating our love life and, by some alchemy, bringing us closer. It wasn't until the first 'real' spanking that I recognised that alchemy as his growing assertiveness. Sitting afterwards on his lap with my head nestled into his neck, calm and contented, I realised that what I'd needed all along was the primitive knowledge that my mate is stronger than I am. That he would not only save me from the lions but, also, sometimes from myself. Non-discipline spankings are wonderful but I'm sure I'm not the only one whose nether regions stir at the sight of her man with a stern look on his face and a paddle in his hand! Nothing sets my world to rights better than a reset, though they're pretty rare nowadays. Ronnie borrowed this meme from Ella recently. It seems apt to use it here too...
I can't remember a time when I wasn't fascinated with spanking. I'm pretty sure I was wired that way from birth. In my early teens I made up a fantasy about a jeans-clad girl I called Jennie-Lee Sheridan. She got into heaps of trouble, for which she was spanked by her big brother, who looked a lot like Adam Cartwright in Bonanza. When I started dating, in the early sixties, I was spanked playfully by a couple of boyfriends and liked how it made me feel. How ironic then, that the love of my life should turn out to be a dedicated spank-no. He was appalled when I asked him to spank me and, eventually, tired of my persistence, forbade me from raising the subject ever again. I understood his reluctance, it was against his nature and upbringing, but I wanted it so! Over the years, I still made up fantasies, like mini-series in my head. They were mostly along the lines of loving husband spanking wayward wife. There were a couple of times when I toyed with the idea of telling Harry just how much I wanted to be spanked, despite his ban on the subject. I had some good material. A man wrote to an agony aunt in a Sunday supplement for advice, after his wife had asked him to spank her. He was shocked and horrified that, in his words, she wanted to turn him into a wife beater. The agony aunt put him straight. There it was, a positive slant on spanking in a mainstream publication! I didn't show it to Harry though, I still remembered the revulsion in his face that first time I asked him to take me over his knee. Another time, I was leafing through a lads' mag whilst waiting in the barber shop for Harry. There was an article in which a man told how much he loved spanking his wife and, in turn, the wife told how much she enjoyed a spanking, applied by the firm hand of her loving husband. I contemplated putting the magazine in my handbag but, again, I chickened out. The years rolled by and, sometime in my fifties, I accepted it was never going to happen so there was really no point in fantasising about it any longer. You can imagine my shock when, one morning after some MFL, Harry told me the Fifty Shades of Grey hoo-ha had made him think that spanking might not be such a terrible thing after all and he was willing to try it. If you've ever wondered what caused the Earth to tilt on its axis one Sunday in January 2013, now you know that Harry caused it! I was sixty-one at that point and wasn't sure I wanted to go there after so long. I took some time to think about it so it was another four days until Harry steeled himself to spank me for the very first time. Sometime back in January was the fifth anniversary of that first, tentative, spanking. You would think that the date of such a monumental event would be forever etched in my memory. I remember the date when Harry first kissed me and the date he first told me he loved me. I'll never forget the day when we told the world we were an item (it was complicated!) or the first time we lay together. I also remember not only the date of our wedding but also the date we got engaged, 49 years ago.
But I don't remember the date that changed my life. I know it was a Thursday but which particular one in that month eludes me. We've come such a long way since then, I'd really love to celebrate the anniversary of the day when the last piece of the puzzle fell into place and Harry finally had the whole of me. Maybe next year we'll celebrate on each Thursday in January, one of them will be the right one! Rosie
A very belated Happy New year to you all! I didn't mean to be away so long. Harry and I took an almost unheard of four weeks off work, starting from the middle of December. I thought I'd have heaps of time to do things I wanted to do but Christmas still snuck up and bit me in the bum and Harry's birthday and New Year both went by in a flash. Then it was time to start packing for our holiday in the French Alps. I may have mentioned a time or two that I hate snow, so a week in a ski resort is way out of my comfort zone. Harry has the bug, though, and invited our elder daughter and her partner to join us. Harry and I travelled by car over three days, picking the other two up at the airport on the last leg of the journey. I'd never imagined going on a ski trip. If I had, I'd have thought of a ski village, quite separate from the slopes. I knew about chair lifts and cable cars taking skiers up the mountains to get their fun, so it came as something as a surprise to me that the snow started right outside the apartment building. It was impossible to go anywhere without walking on that nasty white stuff. Did I say walking? I meant slithering, hanging on to Harry for dear life. After a couple of days DP (Daughter's Partner) suggested looking in the ski shop to see if they sold crampons. It was much easier with the grippy things but I wasn't let out alone, mainly, I suspect, because I have no sense of direction and am known for getting lost in unfamiliar places. Though I loathe snow it was impossible not to be awed by the stunning scenery. I was even persuaded to ride in a cable car up to another resort higher up the mountain, where the snow was deeper but, curiously, easier to walk on.
The view from our balcony
The view from 1600 metres up
The week seemed to rush by and we were soon back at the airport, saying goodbye to the intrepid snowboarders. Harry and I carried on, spending a night in the beautiful city of Reims, before heading back to the ferry port and home. We've been back a week now. I've cleared the mountain of laundry and dealt with the avalanche of mail that was piled up behind the front door. Harry has got us back on track - you know what that means! Rosie
CAN YOU FILL THIS OUT WITHOUT FIBBING? Well, I should hope so! 1. What was the last thing you put in your mouth? A banana. 2. Where was your profile picture taken? Florida. 3. Worst pain? Slipped disc. 4. Favourite place you've travelled? New York. 5. How late did you stay up last night? 10.30pm. I was frazzled! 6. If you could, would you move? No, but we'll have to when we can no longer drive. 7. Favourite toy as a child? My Teddy Bear. He sits on a cushion in my bedroom. 8. Favourite TV show as a kid? I'm too old to remember! Maybe The Lone Ranger. 9. How do you feel right now? Stressed - there are only six days until Christmas! 10. When was the last time you cried? Can't remember. 11. Who took your profile picture? Katie t. 12. Who was the last person you took a picture with? Harry and my mum at a wedding. 13. What's your favourite season? Summer. 14. If you could have any career, what would you pick? I'd love to retire. 15. Do you think relationships are worth it? We'd all be pretty lonely without them. 16. If you could talk to ANYONE right now, who would it be? My beloved Nanna, taken from this world too soon. 17. Are you a good influence? I'd like to think so. 18. Does pineapple belong on pizza? It belongs on my Hawaiian, with ham and cheese. 19. You have the remote, what are you watching right now? Is this a trick question? 20. Who do you think will play along? Maybe Meredith and Ella, if they can find the time. Extra questions: Sunny - Do you open presents on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day? Christmas Day. Abby - What is your favourite Christmas decoration? A snowmen mobile my younger daughter and I made when she was three years old. It's not Christmas until it's hanging in the hall. Katie - Talk with hubby about holiday related spanky business? There won't be much talking, stress relief is almost a given here. Terps - Do you enjoy listening to holiday music? No, not really. I loathe it in shops. Amy Lynn - Do you have any home remedies to help a girl get over her cough and cold? No, sorry, I take over the counter remedies from the pharmacy. Ronnie - (a) White lights or coloured? White. (b) Your worst present? I can't think of one. My question - Fairy or star on top of the tree? We have a home-made star that's about 30 years old. We may have to retire it after this year, it's falling to bits. Fun meme. Thanks for bringing it to Blogland, Sunny. Rosie