tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62928775127011390062024-03-13T04:22:50.112+00:00Rosie's are redRosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.comBlogger58125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-1954251093756901712019-08-02T19:08:00.000+01:002019-08-02T19:08:42.034+01:00More Tales From The Note Book<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">All is well at the Joneses' residence. We're still really busy but the good news is that Harry is cutting out a major part of our business at Christmas, so next year won't be so hectic.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It hasn't been all work and no play here. We enjoyed our European road trip and the concerts were wonderful. My mum celebrated her 92nd birthday a couple of weeks ago. She's doing pretty well, though I'm not sure how much longer she'll be able to carry on living alone. Our younger daughter bowled in for her annual visit last week. She's on a trip with a friend right now, coming back to us for a few days next week. And I can't count my blessings without mentioning a day out in London with Jan, Ronnie, Ami and Minelle, not to mention John, Dan and Minelle's Scotsman. Harry and P were unable to complete the lineup owing to prior commitments.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'm scheduled for a 'reconnection' this evening. Other than that I've nothing to tell so, without further ado, it's on with some more snippets from Rosie's notebook.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">🌟I was a little unruly in the kitchen, prompting Harry to bend me over the table. He started spanking with his hand but soon felt in need of an implement. The utensil jar was out of reach so I wasn't expecting the feel of wood on my posterior...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: Did you just smack me with the cheeseboard??</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: Yes (shows offending object) and I'm going to do it again!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: But it's a real cheeseboard for displaying cheese, not for spanking!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: I think you'll find you're wrong there...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: Oww! Oww!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>It hasn't been seen since - I think it may have fallen into the rubbish bin... </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">🌟There was bizarre conversation when we were washing the dishes one evening:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: I'm going to ask you a question and I want you to answer yes or no.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: Okaay...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: Nothing else, yes or no.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: What's the question?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: Did you use the good brandy in the Christmas puddings?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: No.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">You may be surprised to learn that that was the wrong answer. Christmas pudding is Harry's favourite and I make individual portions in batches of six, all year round. He's pretty serious about his puddings!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">🌟An unexpected morning off:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: So what are we doing?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: I'm standing at the worktop watching you make breakfast and, well, you're...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: Very funny - get over that table.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">🌟Harry cooking dinner:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: (Exasperated) How did I manage to splash the sauce on the tiles?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: (To herself) It's a mystery.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: I heard that - and I don't mean the words!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">🌟Another dish washing episode:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We were going on holiday across the Channel and I wasn't convinced Harry had grasped some of the finer points of the preparations. He was patient up to a point but, after one "But what if..." too many, he put a finger to my lips and told me he had everything under control and I was to stop fretting. He replaced his finger with a kiss and sent me out of the kitchen with a couple of well placed swats.</span><br />
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Let's get away from that kitchen, it's a danger zone for me!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">🌟A matter of perspective:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: Harry's broken his right index finger.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R's sister: Oh, poor chap, it's so awkward when you can't use that finger.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: Harry's broken his right index finger.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Blogging friend: Yikes! That means straight to a paddle.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>She was right.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">🌟</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Cuddling in bed before the alarm announced the start of the day:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: What time is the table booked for this evening?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: 7pm.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: Don't put your makeup on before I get home...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">🌟Over his lap - just for fun:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: Your bottom is really smooth - do you think that spanking has banished the cellulite?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: Sounds feasible.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: Should I spank your thighs then?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: No!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: Just trying to be helpful...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">🌟I got into BIG trouble for this one:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: I see you brought the recycling bin in. Was that wise given your back problem?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: The bin men came early and I didn't want it being blown into the road. It seemed a good idea at the time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: (Points upstairs).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">🌟Sometimes you just can't win:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: (Frowns and wags finger).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: What? I thought I put my case diplomatically.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: It's the smirk that will get you in trouble. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I made a new batch of Christmas puddings today. No connection at all with the reconnection at bed time...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Rosie</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-72370787605043442372019-06-29T18:26:00.000+01:002019-06-29T18:26:17.230+01:00Once Upon a Time 2<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I wrote the original fairy tale back in 2016 and more recently posted it as a TBT. If you missed it, you can read it </span><a href="https://rosiejones51.blogspot.com/2016/12/once-upon-time.html">here</a><br />
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A Knight's Tale</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The knight was not happy. He had been busy all day but, now that business was done, his thoughts turned to his lady wife, Rosamund. He loved her more than life itself but, "Odd's bodkins!" she could be a handful.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He blamed her Grandam for spoiling her. Rosamund was the first of her grandchildren and never lost her favoured place in her grandmother's heart to any of the dozen that followed. Her father had dared not discipline his child for fear of falling foul of the old lady, under whose roof they all lived. The knight heard tell that the child had once been upset by a harsh rebuke from her sire, causing her to wail loudly enough to be heard throughout the dwelling. Her Grandmama was so put out by the treatment of her beloved granddaughter that she had thrown the unfortunate man's dinner to the dogs.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The old lady had heartily approved of the knight as a suitor but he wondered what she would think of him now, spanking her darling grandchild as he does. But then, had he himself not baulked when Rosamund had asked him to spank her to add spice to their activities in the bedchamber? The thought of striking that soft, creamy, skin had appalled him then. Not so now. He'd found by happenstance that regular discipline centred her, keeping her calm and bringing harmony to their domain. Nowadays, the only heat in an argument was that emanating from Rosamund's soundly spanked hindquarters.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Her demeanour had been less than respectful this morning but he had given her grace as he was up very early and mornings did not suit her disposition. Thinking on it, he felt he'd been too indulgent and perhaps a reminder of their roles would not go amiss.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">With a sigh, he wondered whether he'd also been too lenient two days since, when she had visited relatives in a distant settlement. He had told her to take his new, sleek, chariot, more comfortable than her own and with more horses to pull it. Rosamund had never felt confident around horses and as far as she was concerned the fewer she had to deal with the better. Against his wishes, she decided to take her own chariot, which was smaller and easier to manage. She also took along her servant, Siri, to help with the navigation. The outward journey passed uneventfully and she spent a happy few hours with her kin. Disaster struck on the way back when they encountered a fallen tree blocking their path. Siri came from a distant land and sometimes could not understand Rosamund's speech. Unfortunately, this was one such occasion, not helped by the panic in her voice. They became hopelessly lost until another traveller set them back on the right course.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">She had become tearful as Henry scolded her, saying she wished she could do better but that part of her brain must be missing. She'd never had any sense of direction, barely knowing her left hand from her right. He'd found it endearing at first but annoying after fifty years. He was particularly vexed as he'd called upon the Wizard to cast a spell on the new chariot, such that with a simple incantation the carriage knew where to go. Nevertheless, he'd been softened by her distress and forbore to add further to her woes by chastising her.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"I should have seen to it that she didn't sit comfortably for a se'enight," he thought. It was too late for that now but he could still put a sting in her tail. Slapping his thigh with resolve, he called for his falconer to send his fastest hawk with a message to his wayward wife:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-oOo-</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Poor Rosamund, it seems her knight intends to turn her bottom the same colour as her scarlet gown.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Many thanks to Minelle for letting me use her wonderful new drawing and to Windy for the techy tutorial.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-31134653269921884162019-05-20T18:45:00.001+01:002019-05-20T18:45:31.391+01:00In a Funk...<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It started when my mum became poorly, just a few days before we were due to take her on a four-day break to the West Country. Fortunately, she rallied and we all had a good time. The hotel wasn't far from our daughter's home and Mum got to see the cottage she'd heard so much about. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The real heebie-jeebies came on the day after we got home, when I realised I was going to be hard-pressed to cope with everything I needed to do before we went on another holiday just a week later. We're going across the Channel for eight days, driving through four countries. The trip is built around two concerts by my all-time favourite rock star. Harry planned it many months ago as my Christmas gift. I'm very excited but still have heaps to do before we set off.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I don't have time to write a proper post but I thought you might be amused by some of Harry's witty texts. You may have seen some of the ones he sends to remind me I have an appointment for a spanking but he also sends notice of fun times too, in his own inimitable way. I'm in blue and Harry's in grey - I probably didn't need to say that...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;">Fun With Texts</span> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I hope to catch up a bit in blogland whilst I'm away, Internet coverage permitting...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Rosie</span></div>
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Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-32735624477413214582019-04-25T12:40:00.000+01:002019-04-25T12:40:00.578+01:00Decisions, decisions!<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In a recent post Meredith remarked that Blogland was unusually quiet. That reminded me I had a post in my draft folder waiting to polish off. I pulled it up and, given that I hadn't posted since before Christmas, it all seemed irrelevant three months later. It's pretty long as well and I debated whether I should just draw a line under it and start afresh with more recent goings on. I shilly-shallied - would anyone want to read it or should I delete it? Well I still can't decide, so I'm leaving it to you. If you want to catch up with Rosie and Harry's first quarter of the year read on. If not, scroll on down until you see where I drew the line...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When Harry and I welcomed in the New Year, I lifted my glass and said "Here's wishing time will go a bit slower this year!" Well, that was a forlorn hope! January and most of February went by in a blur of juggling too many balls in the air. We had our reward towards the end of February though, with a ten day family trip to a French ski resort. Now, most of you know that I hate snow and would rather be sitting by a pool somewhere warm, but what made this holiday so special was that both our daughters were able to make the trip this year. Completing the line-up was our elder daughter's partner of twelve years, a great guy who fits right in. The plans had been months in the making and we were looking forward to being together as a family for the first time in several years.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">From the moment we arrived at our destination a curious thing happened in the family dynamic. Harry was undisputed head of the household but our elder daughter took charge of running the apartment, which is usually my job. I remarked to Harry that she was doing a great job but was very bossy. He just smiled and said she was her mother's daughter. We mostly ate out but she produced some wonderful meals in the small but well equipped kitchen. One morning, when she'd had enough out on the slopes, she took me on a marvellous adventure, involving two cable car rides and a bus journey. The second cable car took us to the highest level of the mountain, where we had arranged to meet Harry and the other two </span><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">at a restaurant. After a leisurely lunch, the skiers and snowboarder continued their fun on the piste as daughter and I made our journey back the way we came. I really enjoyed the outing and would never have had the nerve to do it by myself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Despite being surrounded by snow, nothing could dampen my spirits and I was an angel the whole trip. Nevertheless, a couple of nights before the end of our stay, Harry and I were doing the dishes when he held up the wooden spoon he was washing and said, quietly, "Soon be home." I made a surprised face because I really had been good, no sass at all! He just smiled and got on with the job at hand.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Two nights later, we were getting ready to go out to dinner. I was in my undies when he squeezed my bottom and said he couldn't wait to get me home. Then he made the spanking sign to be sure I knew what he meant. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The journey home was long and arduous, with torrential rain and high winds on both sides of the Channel. We fell into bed exhausted, the only thing on our minds being sleep! However, as he kissed me goodbye the following morning, he told me I had an appointment at 5 o'clock.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As 5 o'clock approached I went up to our room to wait but didn't undress. I had a feeling that on his first day back at work after a ten day break he wasn't going to get away in time and so it proved. In the meantime, I worked up a good head of steam because he hadn't phoned to let me know he had been held up. Eventually, he called to say he was just heading for home. The exhaustion in his voice dissolved</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> all my annoyance and he was met at the door by a loving wife. He had to go out on errand after dinner and it was nearly 9pm when he got back.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We watched some TV, then I went to bed. I'd been under the duvet for about fifteen minutes when he came up and was unprepared to hear him clashing his two favourite paddles together. Noooo, not now please! He said if not now it would be first thing in the morning but he really wanted to get it over now. So I reluctantly crawled across his lap and he began rubbing, teasing me that my bottom would be quite tender after no attention for ten days. He used a mix of hand and both paddles and I was soon making a lot of noise. He finished up with the love/hate paddle and said that should ensure a good night's sleep. I fell asleep in his arms, with a hot bottom reminding me I was home.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Just four days later he went back to the resort on a boys-only trip. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The next morning I got into my car bright and early to go shopping then on to the gym for my regular Saturday workout. I turned the key in the ignition and a message on the screen said 'Top up coolant.' Okay, that was no problem but it took me ten minutes. I started the car again and turned the stalk for the wipers; the front ones wouldn't work at all and the back one went like it was on drugs. I couldn't drive it that way, it was raining heavily. Fortunately, I have a roadster that I take out on high days and holidays and I swapped to that. My next-door neighbour owns a garage so I sent him an SOS asking him to check whether the car might need a new water pump and to sort out the wipers. </span><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">I didn't get it back in time for my mum's dental appointment mid-week and had to take her by taxi; there's no way she could get in and out of the low-slung two-seater. That was a nuisance but these things are sent to try us, so the saying goes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I like to have a project to keep me busy when Harry is away and this time it was to renovate the 75-year-old door between the kitchen and garden. I also wanted to repaint the kitchen woodwork. We have grey tiles in our kitchen and last year I spent a lot of time and effort, not to mention money, matching the paint to the tiles. It looked just right until it dried, after which it turned out to be completely wrong. I'd lived with it for a year but couldn't stand it any longer and began another search for the right hue. Eight tester pots later I had a tin specially mixed and it looked perfect. I told the guy who mixed it that if it didn't work this time I was going to strip it all off and paint it white. Well, the white looks clean and fresh and I have no intention of trying another fifty shades of grey to get the right one! I was pleased with the door, which I also painted white.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After a week of torrential rain and strong winds that had kept me awake at night, the sun shone and the wind dropped on the day of Harry's return. He came bearing gifts too, a bottle of my favourite perfume and another handbag for my collection.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We had two kinds of reconnection and once again all was right with my world.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">I said it was long - am I giving Windy a run for her money? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">There's really not very much to tell in recent weeks, principally because I put my back out three weeks ago reaching down to pick up the vacuum cleaner. I get flares from time to time but this was the worst episode I've had in years. Harry came running when he heard my distress, laying me on the floor until the nausea passed. From experience we know it will heal in its own time; we just have to wait it out, with a combination of rest, exercise and pain relief.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I've always been self-sufficient and I hate having to rely on other people, even Harry. Our house is old and one day we'll get round to updating the bathroom with a walk-in shower but, until then, the shower is over the bath. Getting in and out with a bad back is impossible without help and Harry had to get in with me the first few times. We've never gone in for hanky-panky in the shower, even fancy ones in hotels, but he managed to make it fun, nevertheless. He had to go to work but he lit the fire in the sitting room for me before he left every day, filling up the coal scuttle to ensure I'd keep warm. I've been there before and know the drill but he still gave me instructions on what I should and shouldn't do. Going for a walk wasn't on his list but, after a couple of days, I needed some outdoor activity as well as the specific exercises for the back pain. I wasn't sure he'd approve but I really needed the fresh air and walking in the garden wasn't enough. Time was that I'd have gone anyway but things are different now, so I phoned him to ask what he thought. I could hear in his voice that he was pleased I'd asked him and he said it was a good idea but the post box at the end of the road was probably far enough. That's a ten minute walk and where I planned to go anyway, so we were both happy. I needed no reminder to take my phone with me; that jam spoon is horrid!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was pretty miserable and it took a while to pull myself out of the doldrums. </span><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm still taking things a little easier than usual but, as you can see from this message Harry left for me a few days ago, we're pretty much back on track...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If you've read both parts you deserve an adult beverage... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">I promise I won't leave it so long next time!</span><br />
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Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-64803801406282374742018-12-21T21:18:00.000+00:002018-12-21T21:18:06.978+00:00Bah! Humbug!<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Well, here we are, just four days away from Christmas. I'd like to be able to say I'm all ready for the big day but, as usual, the festivities have rushed up to bite me on the bum. It's not as if we have a horde descending on us; there will just be Harry, me and my mum at Christmas dinner. The turkey and mince pies are in the freezer and the puddings have been maturing in the larder for weeks. All I need to make now is the brandy butter and cranberry sauce. I've cooked Christmas dinner in thirty-eight of the last forty years, so I have no worries about the meal itself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The thing that gets me stressed is buying the presents. Give or take a few new friends and family members, we've being buying for the same group of people for many years and I am right out of ideas. What once was a pleasure has become a burdensome chore. Some of our family and friends feel the same way and have agreed only to send cards. Those who are aghast at that idea are, coincidentally, the hardest to buy for! I still have a couple of gifts to buy. I've left them to last, hoping inspiration will strike but, if not, one friend will get yet another fancy candle and the other a bottle of his favourite tipple.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I've had two "settle down" spankings this week but by tomorrow I hope to have done everything I need to do, except put up the decorations and dress the tree Harry bought earlier in the week. We'll do that together tomorrow evening and, hopefully, by then I'll be as serene as the glass angels that adorn the mantelpiece.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Despite our best intentions though, things can get fraught at this time of year, so here's a throwback from Christmas 2016 as a reminder to keep calm:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Even the most angelic among us can fall from grace when pressure mounts up...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When your HoH looks like this...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Take a deep breath...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Picture some fluffy kittens...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">or pour yourself a glass of wine. Well, it is Christmas after all...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Make sure the only goose that gets cooked is the one in the oven...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> then all your spankings</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> will be </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Good Girls</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> (or Boys).</span><br />
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<span style="color: red; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Merry Christmas to you all from Rosie and Harry</span></div>
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Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-68220155249163950522018-11-19T20:22:00.000+00:002018-11-19T20:22:59.484+00:00Stolen Meme<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Leigh stole this from Lindy. As it's being passed on, does that make Leigh a fence?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1. Name something people hate to find on their windscreen. <span style="color: blue;">A parking ticket.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2. Name something a man might buy before going on a date. <span style="color: blue;">Condoms.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3. Name something you cook in the microwave. <span style="color: blue;">Scrambled eggs.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">4. Name an item found in an old man's wallet. <span style="color: blue;">A bus pass.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">5. Something always stocked in the fridge. <span style="color: blue;">Champagne, of course.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">6. Name an item found in Grandma's purse. <span style="color: blue;">Sweets (candy) for the grands.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">7. A sport where you might lose a tooth. <span style="color: blue;">I guess not fishing.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">8. Name a fruit that isn't round. <span style="color: blue;">A lemon.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">9. Name something you put on a Christmas tree. <span style="color: blue;">Baubles.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">10. Name five people that you think will do this. <span style="color: blue;">Pass.</span> <span style="color: blue;">Leigh has already named the most likely suspects!</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thanks, Sunny and Lindy!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Rosie</span><br />
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<br />Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-20914649996995229972018-11-16T15:21:00.000+00:002018-11-16T15:21:52.358+00:00It's that time of year again!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSYS12lO9Anb6WfT_36e31WICqzgwVw4rzlCopNGFcg1pTA9pPfmZv7XTYeaqtStnrj1kxTE4PjiHUliyDn8ZpmFLof6mv8DND9E_SeoNSS8PtWUZhHNhVrE0LbCjaSMQ91LYFUKPmEO19/s1600/IMG-0237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="151" data-original-width="432" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSYS12lO9Anb6WfT_36e31WICqzgwVw4rzlCopNGFcg1pTA9pPfmZv7XTYeaqtStnrj1kxTE4PjiHUliyDn8ZpmFLof6mv8DND9E_SeoNSS8PtWUZhHNhVrE0LbCjaSMQ91LYFUKPmEO19/s400/IMG-0237.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Hi there! Is that you peeking out from those Venetian blinds? Why not come out and say "Hello?" I promise I won't bite. I know it might sound daunting; I found it hard to press that [<span style="background-color: #9fc5e8;">Publish</span>] button back on Love Our Lurkers Day 2013. I was so nervous, it took me three goes! As it turned out, the first blogger I reached out to was just as nervous as I was. It was her first LOL Day and mine was the first comment on her blog that day. We have been real life friends for a long time now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">At that time I had no cover identity, so I used the 'Anonymous' feature to comment and you are welcome to do the same. You could use a fictitious name in tandem with that, as I did. I chose the name Rosie, a nickname from my dim and distant past. I never imagined then that I'd one day be using it in a blog of my own!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Blogger tells me how many page views each post attracts, so I know that many people read without commenting. What it can't tell me - or anyone else - is who you are. I'd love to hear from you but, whether you come out to play or not, I'd like to thank you for reading my blog.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Love, Rosie</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-88954475999529686242018-11-09T18:24:00.000+00:002018-11-09T18:24:24.681+00:00He Has Spoken - Ella's Meme<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Harry agreed to take part in Ella's meme but when it came to answering the questions it was like pulling teeth! Maybe my interrogation skills need some work!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">1. If you could be 16 years old again for a day, how would you spend those 24 hours?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> <span style="color: blue;">I enjoyed being sixteen, I wouldn't change whatever I was doing at the time.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">2. Name one thing your wife could do for which you would spank her in a heartbeat.</span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Nothing comes to mind. No, really, nothing!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Oops! How did that get in there?</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">3.</span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Is there a holiday destination or </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">experience about which you have always dreamed?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;"> I've always wanted to go to the Maldives</span>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Would you want to take your wife or do this particular trip on your own?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> <span style="color: blue;">It would be no fun without Rosie.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">4. Tell us about something your wife does that has a childlike quality to it. It could be </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">something happy or silly or something else.</span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Beeping my nose!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">5. As a father, what was something that you did with your children that brought you a great deal of happiness.</span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Everything.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;">(Rosie: </span></span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Our daughters are both Daddy's girls. </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Harry's the one that got broody and was really hands-on right from the start. The only thing he couldn't do was nurse them.)</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">6. Do you see your wife as submissive?</span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I wish...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">7. Which of you is the most outgoing?</span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">That's a tricky one, neither of us is really outgoing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">8. What is an outdoor activity that you enjoy?</span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I took up skiing last year at the ripe old age of 67 and can't get enough of it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">An indoor activity? (besides sex!)</span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Reading, both fiction and non-fiction.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">9. What's the greatest car that's ever been built?</span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'm a motor racing fan and the Maserati 250f gets my vote.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">10. Do you like to shop for your own clothes or do you prefer that your wife does that for you? Or is the Internet the best way to shop?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;">A mixture of all three. The best results are when we shop together in a store</span>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">11. Think about films you like. Are they usually ones that you and your wife both enjoy? Or do your tastes run far from what she usually likes?</span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We usually like the same films; our favourite is 'A Good Year'. Rosie likes films that have happy endings, so there are some I watch alone.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">12. When you are away from home, what do you miss the most?</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-50677242318844730472018-10-19T15:54:00.000+01:002018-10-19T15:54:56.123+01:00Just a Quickie<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">No, not <i>that</i> kind of quickie! I'm popping in to let you know that, although I haven't been seen around Blogland for a week or so, I have been reading blogs daily. Blogger is being a right royal pain and will not allow me to post comments, either in my name or as anonymous. It may be a coincidence but the problem started when I updated my operating system. It's possible that I've upset something in the settings but I don't have time to plough through all that right now. My best laid plans have gone awry and work, family and life in general have conspired against me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To make things worse, I managed to put my back out whilst washing my hair over the bathtub on Monday morning. I can't wash it in the shower; the water running over my head and face makes me feel like I'm drowning. I leant over a little bit too far when rinsing off the conditioner and wham! The pain shot across my back, taking my breath away. That happens every so often, a legacy from a slipped disc years ago, so I know the drill. Harry has been <strike>on my case</strike> very helpful, reminding me to take analgesics regularly and get the right balance between rest and exercise. Monday evening I got up to walk about a bit and went into the dining room, which doubles as our office, where Harry was working on his computer. I stood beside him, with my hands resting on top of a high-backed chair. Whatever he was doing wasn't working out and he was getting impatient. I made a sassy comment and, placing a hand on my bottom, Harry asked whether that had been a wise move on my part, given my situation. I couldn't help laughing and my bottom received several sharp smacks. I didn't stop laughing, even when he got up to get a better aim. I was alarmed when he opened the drawer of my desk and pulled out my old-fashioned, heavy, ruler. He'd never used that as an implement before and it stung! It was all in fun though; I'd been well supported by the chair and it was good for keeping up my spirits.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The pain has subsided and I just have a bit of back ache now. Harry has taken a couple of days off and we are having a long weekend at home, pottering about. Back to normal on Monday, I hope.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Have a good weekend.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Rosie</span>Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-90008926118257370642018-09-14T11:31:00.001+01:002018-09-14T11:31:51.347+01:00Checking In<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">From time to time Meredith gently chides me for not posting in a while. The thing is, when I started blogging, after testing the waters as a guest on the blogs of two friends, I was already wondering what on Earth I was going to blog about. By then Harry and I had been on the ttwd path for three years. That doesn't mean we had it all down pat, we still haven't, but we had pretty much shaped the way we wanted our version to go. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Pouting, flouncing and door slamming had all been consigned to history by that point, along with some other undesirable traits, so there is seldom anything of note to tell. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Punishment doesn't figure in our dynamic, though there is discipline in the shape of 'reminders' and resets. There are no rules to be broken.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Or are there? When is, "I don't like you standing on a chair to get to get to the top shelves," the same as a rule? And what about, "Remember to take your phone with you when you leave the house." How does that translate to, "You're in trouble," if I forget it? I guess the answer is that we have one golden rule, which encompasses anything and everything that Harry feels compromises my safety and he will always spank for that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Though I've vastly improved, I still slip up with the phone rule once in a while. Back in the summer, we were going to a fun 'do' at the invitation of one of our clients. At the last minute, Harry was called in to solve a problem at work and we had to travel separately. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Our younger daughter was home on her yearly visit and was accompanying us to the event. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Harry said he would call me when he was done to find out where to join us and I was to be sure to take my phone. As daughter and I walked into the the venue her phone rang. It was Harry; the problem had been resolved quickly and he was already there. We met up with him and he asked why I hadn't responded to his five calls. I opened my handbag, thinking I must have left the phone on silent after my gym session that morning. Sadly, I had left it on my bedside table. I looked aghast at Harry, remembering the spanking I got the last time I left it at home. You can imagine 'the look' he gave me. With our daughter there he could only say, "Don't say a word," but I was already envisaging another date with the jam spoon.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">That was the last time I got into any real trouble and life has been pretty smooth since then. So smooth, in fact, that I recently asked Harry if I could give him some feedback on spanking. As I wrote in a post a while back, fun spankings are lovely but I crave discipline to remain on an even keel. Harry was still giving reminder spankings but, as I explained to him, there was so much rubbing, squeezing and stroking that the purpose of the spanking got lost and there was no after effect to remind me I had been spanked. He took that on board and reminders are now back to more business, less fun. He has also reverted to giving me 'appointments' for reminders. I love the anticipation after receiving his texts:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbSRbgNG8r5Ss1RSMuiK80ffUUCByYUtHNhPlkByKj_sl_h6WBbHLP1CMxAb8QNh7TE0x8gM0gWLdZlZp9HlwnwzGlIhcJAI40EUQdf4c3nzWsXK1iY0-f60q8QGQGwwLt0czjY5lohTNJ/s1600/IMG_2446-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="182" data-original-width="482" height="75" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbSRbgNG8r5Ss1RSMuiK80ffUUCByYUtHNhPlkByKj_sl_h6WBbHLP1CMxAb8QNh7TE0x8gM0gWLdZlZp9HlwnwzGlIhcJAI40EUQdf4c3nzWsXK1iY0-f60q8QGQGwwLt0czjY5lohTNJ/s200/IMG_2446-1.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfbuL4ZOaucTd3aBGdKF62vrUry8imnBu8GR2S1Mtb20HumV9BInrN3Mr4636C6QVLqNSlFNgG2zMvIbHXRJQbpfcGJXkEi1fs1CMQOPe-kjRWhhuSczd9E0ZlHqzTyGeZTJ9adyfY8hbx/s1600/IMG_2441-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="266" data-original-width="441" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfbuL4ZOaucTd3aBGdKF62vrUry8imnBu8GR2S1Mtb20HumV9BInrN3Mr4636C6QVLqNSlFNgG2zMvIbHXRJQbpfcGJXkEi1fs1CMQOPe-kjRWhhuSczd9E0ZlHqzTyGeZTJ9adyfY8hbx/s200/IMG_2441-1.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This morning, Harry was up and dressed ready to run an errand while I was still lounging in bed. I heard him shut the window and looked up to see that he had two paddles in his hand. </span><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm writing this with a hot bottom. Happy Weekend!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Rosie</span>Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-78034053176153801122018-08-14T16:28:00.001+01:002018-08-14T16:28:24.938+01:00Rosie's Notebook<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZNEQiUe3WDNCDxejg4FoJAIqod_6Theq79xayTdxnb2Y9uh4AEvSRxPNv6pdFveU1ZbUMx-rqrtirthPTNJ0H0IezAIzx54GdOsxe_jAWu2JE6HoSRvRw9zWk7UCM3lBYFYE2qMmlG-PU/s1600/IMG_2431.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZNEQiUe3WDNCDxejg4FoJAIqod_6Theq79xayTdxnb2Y9uh4AEvSRxPNv6pdFveU1ZbUMx-rqrtirthPTNJ0H0IezAIzx54GdOsxe_jAWu2JE6HoSRvRw9zWk7UCM3lBYFYE2qMmlG-PU/s200/IMG_2431.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I have a notebook in which I write stories, outline my posts before drafting them online and jot down ideas for future posts. That last one is of little use because, by the time I get round to writing it, someone else has usually written on the same subject. Sometimes I write down those moments that make me think, </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"That's going in my blog!" The trouble with those is that they either don't fit any of the subject matter or the note is so cryptic that I can't remember what the heck it was about. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The notebook is getting really tatty so I decided to have a cull of all the loose pages and notes that I'm never going to use. Some of the short notes made me smile and, whilst none of them would make a post of its own, they might make amusing reading.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So, for your entertainment, here are some snippets from Rosie's notebook:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">🌟I was brought up not to use profane or vulgar language, a constraint of which Harry heartily approves. Sometimes, though, a vulgar expression slips out, such as the time when we were having lunch in the garden and our cat pawed at me to get some of my bacon. He took me by surprise, causing me to drop my fork and use a very rude, though not profane, word. Harry chided me for the slip and I asked how come he can say it and I can't. His response was, "Because I'm the one who wields the paddle." I was taken aback by that because, at that time, spanking was strictly for fun. I had no premonition of how that was to change.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">🌟On the same theme, Harry and I were sitting side by side on the sofa. I was reading and he was looking at funny cat videos on his phone. He showed me a picture of a very cross looking cat. This was recently, a couple of </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">days after PK put up a TBT post on how she got her name and I told him a very short version of the story. I said she was</span><i style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"> pissed</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> with her friend, who shot back a photo of a <i>pissed</i> looking kitty. Without looking away from his phone, he made a 'cut-off' gesture with his hand and said, "That's two, no more."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">🌟Still with the bad language theme, there was a time when I borrowed Harry's car and took a corner too fast. I frightened myself silly and shouted out the F-word, one of only three times I've used it in my life. I was relieved that Harry had no occasion to review the dash-cam footage because it recorded sound as well as sight. Had he heard my language I wouldn't have sat for a week - and that would have been after the spanking for bad driving.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">🌟I have no idea what this one was about! The note just said Harry held up a hand, making a spanking gesture, and said, "I'm the one with the slappy hand, I make the rules."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">🌟Another note read 'Annoying - hand - itch'. I remember this event but not what I did to annoy Harry. Whatever it was, I stopped when he held up his spanking hand and scratched the palm with the index finger of the other hand. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">🌟"I didn't say be dull, I just said behave." I earned that reprimand when were in the kitchen doing the dishes and I had been teasing Harry, a bit too close to the line.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">🌟This is my favourite and I've saved it till last. Harry told me he had an event planned for the evening, called 'Red Globes At Sunset'. He then announced the warnings, as they do on television. "You are advised that there will be spanking and scenes of a sexual nature, but no bad language." It all came to pass exactly as planned.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Life may be stressful at times but it's rarely dull in Harry and Rosie land!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Rosie</span>Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-36625330663939026132018-08-07T15:30:00.000+01:002018-08-07T15:30:10.560+01:00Three Bags Full<br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This post was supposed to be a short snapshot of an event last week but, as I was trying to make sense of my reaction, it seemed to take on a life of its own, reminding me of another struggle with submission a few years ago.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">One morning last week, Harry and I both woke before the 5.45am alarm went off. We lay there, quietly savouring the few more minutes before the clamour of a new day intruded. When the alarm went off I kept my eyes closed but soon became aware that Harry was rearranging the bedding. I turned to see what he was up to - what was the fat bolster doing on the bed? There's only one reason for that and I was soon draped over the thing having my bottom tanned. Afterwards, there was a short question and answer session and the last of my answers was, "Yes." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Yes, what?" came Harry's response.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I looked at him, puzzled.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Yes, <b>Sir</b>." he said.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Nooooo! Over five years in and he's never asked me to call him Sir before. I don't want to! I can't do it! I won't!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He smiled, recognising my inner struggle and letting the demand go. It had been a 'just because' spanking, no discipline involved. Maybe he was just teasing me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As spanking </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">just for fun morphed into ttwd all by itself </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">we never had 'The Conversation', so there was no discussion on what would or wouldn't work. If there had been, calling Harry 'Sir' would have been right up there with corner time on the 'Not on your Nellie' list. Harry remained oblivious to the concept of corner time until a couple of years later, when I wrote a Fantasy Friday story that featured it. Not long after, he gave me a four o'clock appointment and told me, if he were held up in traffic and wasn't home by the appointed time, I was to wait for him in the corner between the dresser and the wardrobe. Back then, an appointment was specifically for a 'reminder' and I would wait for him in our room, sitting on the bed, bottom already bared. There was no way I was going into that corner, half-naked or otherwise, and I told him so. He said that was up to me but non-compliance would be met with the wooden paddle.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After I was up and about and had drunk enough coffee to start my day, I walked into the corner to see how it felt. I barely managed ten seconds. I tried again at lunchtime but the result was just the same. I wasn't too worried about the wooden paddle. Harry might take me over my limit for my obstinacy but he isn't a tyrant. That wasn't the real issue. I knew he would be disappointed that I'd flouted his wishes. But I couldn't do it, I really couldn't, it was just too humiliating. I was still pretty much a lurker in Blogland then but I had a good friend in Jan, our lovely English Rose, and decided to email her for advice. Unfortunately for me, she was out for the day but, as four o'clock approached and Harry wasn't home, I felt sure she would have told me to do what he wanted. Harry was only five minutes late but it felt like an eternity in that corner. Jan's email, urging me to do as he wanted, pinged into my inbox halfway through the spanking. She thought he was probably testing his power and I'm sure she was right. He's </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">never asked me to do it since.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I don't know what prompted Harry to throw in the 'Sir' response; nor can I make sense of my strong reaction, because I am not the same person I was five years ago. Oh, yes, I'm still the same strong, intelligent, person I always was but I am now a better, happier, version of me. One who revels in her husband's assertiveness and has more respect for him than ever before. One who will say "Sir" should he require it in future.</span><br />
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Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-83523187757368846912018-07-12T09:17:00.001+01:002018-07-12T09:17:53.319+01:00TBT - Once Upon A Time<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">There is nothing new to glean from this post but it was well received when I wrote it in December 2016 and I enjoyed writing it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Things have settled down here, we're slowly getting back to normal, whatever that is. The thing about normal is that life is uneventful, which means I have nothing to blog about. Instead of disappearing again, I thought I'd have some fun and write a story. This is a fictional tale but any resemblance to living people may not be entirely coincidental. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Once upon a time</b>, a little girl was born into a family that had not heard the patter of tiny feet for many years. Her grandmother, the family matriarch, had expressed her preference for a boy but, on holding the infant in her arms for the first time, declared that she wouldn't change her for a boy if his backside were studded with diamonds. The child was christened Rosamund on account of her fair English complexion, with her rose-coloured cheeks and rosebud mouth.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">With seven grownups in the household twisted round her tiny fingers, it was almost inevitable that she was a little spoilt. She was treated like a princess by them all but her biggest fan was her doting Grandmama. The old lady wasn't a total pushover, though. She insisted on ladylike behaviour and taught Rosamund her Ps and Qs.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In spite of, or maybe because of, having three younger siblings, she grew into a somewhat solitary child, with her nose often stuck in a book. Though no hand was ever applied to her bottom, the little princess had a fascination with spanking, fuelled by the many instances in the story books of the day. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">By her early teens, she had begun to fantasise about being spanked, mainly by handsome men on horseback.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">She was mistress of the witty put down and, as a consequence, found herself over the knees of two early suitors. She liked how it made her feel but neither of the young men touched her heart. Her Grandmama told her she was a very special girl who would need a very special man. She was biased, of course, but that's the way it is with Grandmamas. She advised the princess to carry on kissing frogs until her prince arrived.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And so it came to pass that a knight in shining armour came forth on his trusty steed, Lambretta, and stole her heart away. Sir Henry's kisses made her swoon, but before long she craved the thrill of a spanking and asked him to oblige. He was appalled. He had been to knight school with his peers and learned that a man's job was to care for and protect his fair lady. Only a coward would strike a woman. Rosamund was nothing if not persistent, chipping away until, in exasperation, Henry forbade her from raising the subject ever again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Many years passed, during which the pair married and had two beautiful daughters.Their union wasn't all sweetness and light; this may be a fairy tale but they had their ups and downs like everyone else. Rosamund could be a handful when she didn't get her way and Henry's strategy was to keep his head down until her ill humour passed. In the meantime, doors would shudder on their hinges and no-one could pout or flounce better than she.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Their daughters had left to make their own way in the world long before the day that was to turn Rosamund's life upside down. Henry was gazing fondly at his wife, who was slumbering in the afterglow of some mighty fine loving, still clad in the *F--k me* outfit she had worn for his pleasure. She had fulfilled many of his fantasies over the years and it was to his sorrow that the only one she wanted for herself was the one thing he couldn't bring himself to do. Lately though, he had begun to wonder whether it was such a bad thing. A story had been written about many shades of grey, it's fame spreading far and wide, with its scenes of spanking setting feminine hearts all a-flutter. When Henry told Rosamund he was willing to try spanking, solely to add some extra spice in the bedchamber, she wasn't at all sure she wanted to after all these years. She told him she would think on it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">She dressed with great care the first time, choosing undergarments that would present an appealing target once her skirts were up and her knickers were around her thighs. Henry had always admired his wife's bottom, a little on the large side but smooth and firm. The last thing he wanted was to smack it but he had promised. Rosamund jumped when the first spank fell, out of sheer anticipation. Henry made himself deliver another twenty or so smacks, turning her bottom a warm shade of pink, before picking her up and carrying her to their bed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The next time, to Henry's chagrin, she was left with some light bruising. Perhaps it hadn't been her brightest idea to mention pat-a-cake when he asked how she felt about the first spanking. She cared not a jot about the bruising, her worry was that Henry would not spank her again. What was she to do? There was only one thing for it, she would use her magic tablet to consult the Fount Of All Knowledge. Tapping three times on the glass to summon Google she asked her question. The answer came from a man who spanked his wife, avoiding bruising by warming up gradually with moderate smacks before the real spanking began. A few more taps led Rosamund to the Land of Blog, where she found many women who were spanked by their husbands, not only for pleasure but for discipline too. She passed on the warm up tip to Henry but kept the rest of her discovery to herself; she didn't want to put any ideas into his head.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Her deviousness was in vain for, once Henry accepted that spanking caused no lasting harm, it was only a matter of time before Rosamund was spanked for real. She had been in a foul mood all morning and Henry bore the brunt of her ill humour. When all else failed, he decided to spank her out of it. Rosamund was shocked to be summarily upended over his knee but knew she deserved it and was soon making her apologies. That day wrought a change in our trusty knight. With his soft, contrite, wife in his arms he vowed that, henceforth, he would brook no argument from his feisty princess. Peace and harmony would come to his domain, for now he had the means to rein in her waywardness. For good measure, he would give her frequent reminders of his new expectations, whether she needed them or not.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">His lady wife submitted to her husband's strictures for she found them curiously calming and, by some alchemy, his strong leadership brought her and her knight closer together. That's not to say everything ran smoothly from then on; the princess could no more change her character than a leopard could change its spots. There were times when she would try her husband's patience to the limit and her hindquarters would feel the sting of his wrath. He knew he would never tame her entirely, nor would he want to. Life would be dull if his Rose lost her thorns.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Cue Happy Ever After music...</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">** I have used narrator's licence here. Harry is a benign dictator but were I to use the </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> f-word in real life I wouldn't sit comfortably for quite some time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Rosie</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-10359337773133964862018-07-05T13:58:00.000+01:002018-07-05T13:58:01.392+01:00TBT - You can put that in your blog!<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Originally posted 2nd June 2016</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Harry is not very happy with me. Monday was a Bank Holiday and we were looking forward to the extra day off. It started well, a bit of a lie-in followed by a leisurely breakfast, then pottering about until lunch time. After lunch, we planned to do some work in the garden before going on to our favourite afternoon activity...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I've neglected the garden this year but it seems to have got along nicely without me. Most of my plants are in containers and just needed watering and weeding. I had nearly finished a small patio area, when I spotted a weed growing up between the slats of the wooden bench from the border behind. Several feet of it came snaking up through the seat as I pulled on it, though it still remained firmly in the ground. Foolishly, I gave it a good tug and an excruciating pain shot up my back. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I couldn't move and Harry was nowhere to be seen. He came running when he heard me hollering and, half carrying me, managed to get me into the house and flat on the floor before I passed out. Harry knows the drill, we've been there before, though not for a while. I have a long-standing disc problem that gives me little trouble as long as I take care. Even before we started ttwd, I had a list of rules designed to keep my back pain-free. Not weeding in the borders is one of them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Once I was settled, Harry went to clear up outside, returning with a face like thunder. He reminded me that, firstly, weeding the borders is his job, not mine. Secondly, what I had been tugging on was a sucker from a tree, not a weed. He said he'd like to spank me there and then but, obviously, I'd have to wait for my punishment. I must have looked shocked because he said, "Yes, I did say punishment, you can put that in your blog."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'm still waiting but not for much longer. I've been diligent with my remedial exercises and should be fit again in a couple of days. Maybe Harry will remember that punishment doesn't figure in our version of ttwd. Wish me luck.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Follow up 6th June 2016</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>The 'P' Word</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Thanks to all of you who commented on my previous post. I hope you will forgive me for not responding to each of you individually. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I have had the disc problem for about twenty years and generally manage it very well. I really don't know what came over me when I wrestled with the offending plant; I can only plead temporary insanity. The pain was terrible for a while but a combination of pain killers and gentle exercise took the raw edges off within a few hours. A week later, I still have some residual discomfort but am slowly getting back to normal. Many thanks for your good wishes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Harry's decision to punish was borne out of concern for my wellbeing, as he waited for me to regain consciousness following my faint - the cause of which was entirely due to my own carelessness. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Had he been able to spank me within a day or two, I have no doubt that it would have been a barn-burner. After nearly a week, however, he felt that too much time had gone by for a punishment spanking to be meaningful. Instead, I had a well-reddened bottom from a reset on Sunday morning.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">That doesn't mean the predictions of a shift in our dynamic were wrong. The p-word has entered the Joneses' ttwd lexicon and it can only be a matter of time before Rosie's are very red indeed.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So far, I've avoided a barn-burner and aim to keep it that way!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Rosie</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-1737690258186224752018-06-28T20:52:00.000+01:002018-06-28T20:52:35.482+01:00Sir Spankalot<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I had a great vacation with a group of wonderful women, with whom I could be my true self for a whole week. You may have read a snapshot of our convention on Meredith's site. After two of these trips, it has only just occurred to me that before I joined the Beach Belles last year they used to get into all kinds of trouble. Tales of needing bail money and being rescued by hunky firemen come to mind. I hope I'm not cramping their style!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As I was going to be on the other side of the Pond for eight days, Harry decreed that I would be spanked on each of the eight days in the run up to my departure. He decided each one would have a different theme. You can probably tell that it would mostly be on the fun side.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So here it is, <span style="color: red;">Sir Spankalot's fun and games.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: red;">Saturday:</span> We'd had a busy Friday, no time to play, so the first of the eight was a 'Happy Weekend' spanking, held over from the previous day. That followed its usual course of a lot of fun and laughter, topped off with a few smacks with an implement as a reminder to keep calm.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: red;">Sunday: </span>Ha, this is one of Harry's favourites. I came out of the bathroom fresh from the shower and slathered in body lotion. He was waiting for me, propped up against the headboard with a pile of pillows over his lap. Anyone familiar with being spanked on a wet bottom will know that it takes little effort on the spanker's part to raise a sting.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: red;">Monday:</span> Was a surprise. We had just finished washing the dishes when he directed me over the kitchen table and produced the London Tanners' heavy leather paddle. It wasn't on the bare but it had me dancing!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: red;">Tuesday:</span> We had a late night and I really didn't want a spanking, but refusing was not an option. Harry read my mood and kept it short and sweet. I was soon on my way to the land of Nod, tucked in under his arm.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: red;">Wednesday:</span> He positioned me on the bed on all fours, chest down and bottom up, brandishing the horrid jam spoon. As soon as he ran his hand over my bottom, he realised that implement would be too harsh on stretched skin, so used his hand instead, before moving on to other activities.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: red;">Thursday:</span> Harry called me into the sitting room, where he was lying in wait on the sofa with a cushion over his lap. I had to remove my jeans and knickers but it was a sensual hand spanking that had me purring like a cat.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: red;">Friday:</span> OTK in the bedroom. Harry started off with his hand but I soon felt the smooth wooden paddle circling my cheeks prior to a few ouchy spanks. As the circles began again, he said he bet I was glad he made that paddle for me. I told him I have a love/hate relationship with it. I love it because he made it and - <b><i>Owww!</i></b> - that's why I hate it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: red;">Saturday:</span> Last day! He had me sit on the side of the bed while he chose his toys. I was alarmed to see he'd pulled out the LT heavy paddle, the love/hate paddle and the horrid jam spoon. He was teasing me. After a nice long hand spanking, he gave me three taps with each of the implements and we were done.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Early the next morning I was heading for the beach.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Rosie</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I've had this post in draft for a few days, waiting to get some time to add photos. We're off to the West Country for a long weekend now, so I'm afraid this post will have to go unadorned.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-40828469690040962812018-06-10T04:50:00.000+01:002018-06-10T04:50:15.409+01:00Leavin' on a Jet Plane<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Rosie</span></div>
Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-86333110342800462922018-06-07T11:19:00.000+01:002018-06-07T11:19:46.219+01:00TBT - Bedtime<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Originally posted on 28th July 2016</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">, absolutely not!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaEQw91KdRnnTCCPWo-_Mr2uQvdTsW62zC4OIJfKOcgyNXdAmiL3c1hvR6lsrQugloH2oJcy-oRn9r4TkoIKT8X3JltpHFg0lmblKwaVQ85GKBqRxodWG9HmotYz0jT_DANL8eHfduqcEI/s1600/memo-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaEQw91KdRnnTCCPWo-_Mr2uQvdTsW62zC4OIJfKOcgyNXdAmiL3c1hvR6lsrQugloH2oJcy-oRn9r4TkoIKT8X3JltpHFg0lmblKwaVQ85GKBqRxodWG9HmotYz0jT_DANL8eHfduqcEI/s200/memo-5.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Unfortunately</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">, 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 </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">got spanked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I really struggled with the bed time issue and Harry was patient but unrelenting. The learning curve continued something like this:</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: Rosie, time for bed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: Okay, I just need to finish this, five minutes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: Do you want a spanking?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: No, but...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: No buts. Go. Now.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Still having trouble giving up control...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: Rosie, time for bed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: Okay, I just need to...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: (smack) Off you go.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: Okay (kiss).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Getting there...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: Rosie, time for bed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: Okay, night, night.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: Sleep tight (smooch) (pat, pat).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Got it!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sweet dreams...</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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!</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He had a chuckle about the following evening too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Rosie</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Thanks, NJ</span><br />
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Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-58714224377225017342018-06-01T14:21:00.000+01:002018-06-01T14:21:26.167+01:00Rambling Rosie<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Thank you for the kind comments on my last post; sorry I took so long to respond.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">At the beginning of May, we took my 90-year-old mother for a long weekend in </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Rosie</span></div>
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Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-50615900652485483662018-04-28T15:45:00.000+01:002018-04-28T15:45:33.041+01:00How Time Flies<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A few days ago, I happened to see on a friend's blogroll that there hadn't been a post on <span style="color: red;">Rosie's are red</span> 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 </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">working all hours and hi</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">ring 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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>H: Have you lost weight?</i></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: red; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: Yes, I've been shedding the extra pounds I've put on since last summer.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: Well, stop! I don't want this lovely bottom wasting away.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: red; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">R: But I've only got two pounds to go!</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">H: No!! No, no, no, no, no!</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Smack!! Smack, smack, smack, smack, smack!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I didn't protest, best not to argue with a man when you're naked over his lap. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And yet...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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 </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">wasn't until the</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> first 'real' spanking that I recognised that alchemy as his growing assertiveness.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> 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 </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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! N</span><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">othing sets my world to rights better than a reset, though they're pretty rare</span><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"> nowadays. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ronnie borrowed this meme from Ella recently. It seems apt to use it here too...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">...and I got my hug. Equilibrium restored.</span><br />
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Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-39556326776167646362018-02-16T11:46:00.000+00:002018-02-16T11:46:38.754+00:00The Day That Rocked My World<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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 h</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">is wife had asked him to spank her.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> He</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> 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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometime back in January was the fifth anniversary of that first, tentative, spanking.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">You would think that the date of such a monumental event would be forever etched in my memory.</span><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"> 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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">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 </span><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">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!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Rosie</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-6280267690501146712018-01-22T16:08:00.000+00:002018-01-22T16:08:54.884+00:00The Things We Do For Love<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A very belated Happy New year to you all! I didn't mean to be away so long.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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 </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">birthday and New Year both went by in a flash.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The view from our balcony</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The view from 1600 metres up</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-20767767153077383352017-12-19T14:28:00.000+00:002017-12-19T14:28:45.747+00:00Questions, Questions - The Meme<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">CAN YOU FILL THIS OUT WITHOUT FIBBING?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Well, I should hope so!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> 1. What was the last thing you put in your mouth? <span style="color: blue;">A banana.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> 2. Where was your profile picture taken? <span style="color: blue;">Florida.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> 3. Worst pain? <span style="color: blue;">Slipped disc.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> 4. Favourite place you've travelled? <span style="color: blue;">New York.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> 5. How late did you stay up last night?<span style="color: blue;"> 10.30pm. I was frazzled!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> 6. If you could, would you move? <span style="color: blue;">No, but we'll have to when we can no longer drive.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> 7. Favourite toy as a child? <span style="color: blue;">My Teddy Bear. He sits on a cushion in my bedroom.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> 8. Favourite TV show as a kid? <span style="color: blue;">I'm too old to remember! Maybe The Lone Ranger.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> 9. How do you feel right now? <span style="color: blue;">Stressed - there are only six days until Christmas!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">10. When was the last time you cried? <span style="color: blue;">Can't remember.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">11. Who took your profile picture? <span style="color: blue;">Katie t.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">12. Who was the last person you took a picture with? <span style="color: blue;">Harry and my mum at a wedding.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">13. What's your favourite season? <span style="color: blue;">Summer.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">14. If you could have any career, what would you pick? <span style="color: blue;">I'd love to retire.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">15. Do you think relationships are worth it? <span style="color: blue;">We'd all be pretty lonely without them.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">16. If you could talk to ANYONE right now, who would it be? <span style="color: blue;">My beloved Nanna, </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;"> taken from this world too soon.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">17. Are you a good influence? <span style="color: blue;">I'd like to think so.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">18. Does pineapple belong on pizza? <span style="color: blue;">It belongs on my Hawaiian, with ham and cheese.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">19. You have the remote, what are you watching right now? <span style="color: blue;">Is this a trick question?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">20. Who do you think will play along?<span style="color: blue;"> Maybe Meredith and Ella, if they can find the time.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Extra questions:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sunny - Do you open presents on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day? <span style="color: blue;">Christmas Day.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Abby - What is your favourite Christmas decoration? <span style="color: blue;">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.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Katie - Talk with hubby about holiday related spanky business? <span style="color: blue;">There won't be much talking,<span style="color: blue;"> stress relief is almost a given here.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Terps - Do you enjoy listening to holiday music? <span style="color: blue;">No, not really. I loathe it in shops.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Amy Lynn - Do you have any home remedies to help a girl get over her cough and cold?</span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">No, sorry, I take over the counter remedies from the pharmacy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ronnie - (a) White lights or coloured? <span style="color: blue;">White.</span> (b) Your worst present? <span style="color: blue;">I can't think of one.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My question - Fairy or star on top of the tree? <span style="color: blue;">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.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Fun meme. Thanks for bringing it to Blogland, Sunny.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Rosie</span>Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-16466869945268256852017-11-17T10:44:00.000+00:002017-11-17T10:44:03.031+00:00Come out, come out, wherever you are! It's Love Our Lurkers Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It's that time of year when bloggers encourage their silent readers to come out and say "Hello." So c</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">ome on out! I can't see you but I know you're there. I know it can be daunting to make a comment, I had been reading for many months before I plucked up the courage. Even then, I deleted my comment twice before pressing that blue [<span style="background-color: #9fc5e8;"><b>Publish</b></span>] button.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Then press that button, I'd love to hear from you.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">You don't have to give a name, you can be completely anonymous if you want to.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Rosie</span></div>
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Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-58859285534523078532017-10-31T14:47:00.000+00:002017-10-31T14:47:59.593+00:00In a Jam <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If you've been reading here for a while you'll know that Harry finally agreed to spank me after 43 years, on the strict understanding that it would only ever be for fun. Somewhere along the line though, he became more assertive and discipline entered the mix. If I had any doubt that Harry has now truly embraced the ttwd dynamic, it was totally dispelled when he purchased two jam spoons recently. Yes, two, and not the regular kind either but the French version.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Early last month we spent a few days in France, stopping at a hypermarket on the way to our destination to buy supplies. Harry headed straight towards the wine section as I lagged behind looking at tableware. When I caught up with him he had stopped at a display of jam making utensils. In his hand was a large spoon-shaped object. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was obviously meant for stirring jam but it was flat on both sides, with no bowl, and a uniform thickness from end to end. After tapping it in his palm h</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">e smiled and said it would do very nicely. Then he decided to take two.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I promise you I was an angel during that short break but, as we were loading the car to go home, Harry held up one of the spoons and said we'd try it out the next day. He only used it moderately for a few smacks but it left its sting, if not its mark. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I rarely get into any real trouble but I blotted my copybook a few days ago when I went on a short trip to the next village. As I picked up my bag to get out of the car, I noticed Harry's spectacles on the passenger seat. My car had been in a tight spot on our drive and he had turned it round for me, leaving his specs inside. I went to get my phone from my bag to let him know where they were and realised it was still charging on my bedside table. On my return Harry met me at the door but, instead of the usual greeting, he crooked his finger for me to follow him to the kitchen, where a jam spoon was placed prominently on the table. As he guided me across the table he said I would see a missed call from him on my phone. He had called to ask if he'd left his specs in my car and heard my phone ringing upstairs. It was a short spanking but even over jeans that thing hurt like the dickens.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'm wondering whether I should use that photo on the lock screen of my phone, to remind me not to leave home without it again...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Rosie</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292877512701139006.post-37346071650089893912017-10-12T11:23:00.001+01:002017-10-12T11:23:24.375+01:00Horsing Around<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After reading my answers to the stolen meme, a few people expressed interest in hearing about my experience of horse riding. I was reluctant to lay bare my ignominious defeat but, after revisiting the saga with Harry, I can see the funny side, so here it is:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Harry and I were sitting on a clifftop above a deserted beach, desultorily watching the feeble little waves breaking on the shore. No surfing that day. We were about to turn away when a posse of riders on horseback came into sight, their mounts galloping along the shoreline, kicking up spray. Harry thought it would be wonderful to do that in moonlight and there began his romantic notion of us doing that very thing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And so it was that I came to be in a stable yard, kitted out with riding hat and boots, amongst a gaggle of pony mad little girls. The lesson started in the yard with the basics, like how to climb aboard and hold the reins. Harry mentioned to the instructor that I was a little nervous and she assured him I'd be fine with Dora, she was a placid animal and could do the exercises in her sleep. But animals can smell fear, can't they? The sweet natured horse knew I was never going to be in charge right from the start.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Then, on to the paddock, which meant putting into practice what we had learned about stopping and starting. So I told Dora to "walk on" and squeezed with my knees but she was going nowhere until the instructor came to my rescue.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The following week, we reprised the first week's lesson before moving into a bigger paddock to learn trotting. I was doing quite well until then but Dora refused to move on to the other paddock. We'd been shown how to smack a crop against the saddle, rather than the horse, but my feeble tap had no effect. The instructor leaned over and gave her a smart tap, galvanising her into sudden movement that nearly had me off. She behaved herself for the trotting but I knew who had the upper hand and it wasn't me. To finish the lesson we were given an exercise that involved turning round 360 degrees in the saddle, using the pommel. I'm a bit hazy now on how it was done but why on Earth would anyone want or need to do that? I think I made it eventually but I can't be sure and Harry doesn't remember!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Whilst I was making my inept attempts, Harry took to horseback like a duck to water. By the third week, I was still going round in circles when, in the next field, Harry was trotting around prior to going out on a ride with experienced pupils and their instructor. There had been a mistake in the allocation of horses that morning and the only one left for Harry to ride was Jago, a spirited animal, usually only ridden by instructors. Harry was thrown off unceremoniously but got straight back on. He relished the challenge and was allowed to ride the horse from then on. Each week, Jago threw him off in a different way, until he realised Harry wasn't going to give up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I think Dora was tired on the day of my sixth lesson because she seemed to go into the 'I can do this in my sleep' mode. Anyway, I was plodding around with a semblance of knowing what I was doing when the stable owner came along and said I must go on a ride the following week.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Placid Dora came with me on my very first proper ride. We set off nicely, trotting along the bridle path, until she decided that wasn't enough fun and bolted off the track, heading determinedly in the direction of the nearby trunk road. I pulled on the reins in vain, hanging on for dear life, until the instructor caught up and took control. On return to the yard in every previous week, one or other of the pony mad little girls had offered to take Dora from me to do whatever had to be done between lessons. That time, none of them was around and I had to look after Dora myself. I dismounted, remembering we were not to let the horses drink straight away but Dora headed doggedly for the water trough. I actually managed to stop her and leant up against her shoulder, as we had been taught. Her response was to stomp hard on my foot! My howl of anguish at last produced help and Dora was led away by someone far more competent than I.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Harry, meantime, had also returned to the yard, where he found me hopping around in pain. He led me to his car, where he removed my boot from my rapidly swelling foot. That was the last time I ever went near a horse. Many years later my mother found my boots in the back of a cupboard and gave them to my elder daughter. The left boot still bore the muddy imprint of Dora's hoof.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Harry continued to ride out from the stables until he had the news that a careless person had ridden Jago into a tree and the poor horse had to be destroyed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He never got to realise his romantic dream but he did get to ride with our daughters who, like him, took to it with ease.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Rosie</span><br />
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Rosie Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00765687509366453029noreply@blogger.com18