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Archive for the ‘nudity’ Category

Picture Delia just took of me drying my hair inside the cabin while she stood outside the cabin door looking in:

Might bring back fond memories for someone. And/or be a foretaste of more hair dryer pics to come with someone else. I’ll say no more. They’re almost like inside jokes. Except not really “jokes”.

Thank you, Delia, for interrupting your camming to come outside and do this for me! I tried to take some pictures myself using the self-timer and my little camera-phone tripod setup, but they were utterly worthless relative to the effort and headache I was putting into it. Well, even NOT relative to that.

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I haven’t been spending  much time over the past year or so surfing, reading blogs, “researching” things online, etc. But today I did a little of that. It was interesting. But I have nothing to show for it now except a great reminder that now is not the time in my life to get all up in arms and “informed” about important things. More important is just starting my day out on the right foot, working efficiently, and taking care of myself with time and energy left over to be with Delia. There are some goals I want to meet by the time I turn 40 and that’s barely over a year away. And then maybe I’ll do important things. Or just have more time to fuck lots of people. Or just have more time to fuck Delia lots!

Going to get into bed now and start out better tomorrow.

Just so you don’t feel TOO sorry for me, I *do* have garden gloves with rubber-coated fingers and palms:

Don’t worry about my silly complaints about the dearth of heavy-duty work gloves in tiny-hand sizes, because I don’t *actually* need them since I don’t really do any heavy-duty work. My fingers suffered nary a prick the past couple of days.

Sigh.

There was a 100% chance of rain today. Where I grew up that would mean rain ALL DAY. But here it means “it will be pretty cloudy today and at some point a soft spatter might fall down on you”. Both of these places are near Seattle. But so different from Seattle. And each other.

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I love this yard. I love being in it . . . being lost in it . . . becoming invisible to myself outside. That’s one of the very best feelings in the world.

I know very very little about gardening. And I’m very very slow at it, and most yard work in general. I’m not efficient. That’s not the point. Instead I’m very slow. Some of my movements are quick, but overall the progress I make (if any) is SLOW.

I look at the shapes and colors of things. I do a little something. Then I stop and look at the way what I did changed the shapes and colors of things. I walk around and look at it from different angles. I do a little something else. I smell some stuff. I pick  some things up. I put some things down. I move some stuff around.

Pull a little. Claw a little. Touch and smell and breathe a little. Tilt my head slightly. Dig a little. Turn to find the bird.

No, I’m not stoned. But doing these things, alone, without people-words, has exactly the profoundly calming effect I sometimes seek from drugs. Everything is exquisite. Thousands of small spaces invite me in. I’m fucking intrigued by this microcosm and that.

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I want this to be a significant part of my future . . . in all of the weeks I have left to live. I’m scared that I’ll ruin it if we ever have the time and resources to make it perfect, so I tried to promise myself out loud to Delia that we would never ever do that: have a boring perfect garden where the only thing left to do was maintain order. Delia will not let that happen.

One secret might be to always have big trees . . . big overgrowing things that make everything change every year.

Another secret might be to keep being really really really slow.

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The cool thing about this particular yard is that they carefully landscaped it when they built the house, like, fifteen years ago or whatever. Not like housing-development-landscaped, but with islands of native stuff like salal and a few shapes with perennials. And in maybe the ten years past a parade of renters has been through it so it’s grown out of its baby plans and gotten a little crazy in places. But not unmanageably so. Like the fire ring can’t still be where a fire is because the tree closest to it has grown to where its arms are almost reaching out over it. And you should try not to set the fucking trees on fire. That kind of thing.

So there are all of these little nooks where we could do something fairly cheap and simple and turn it into fucking storybook-charming magical. Like for photo shoots and stuff!  But not in a super-gross way. I know, I know . . . not everybody’s cup of tea. Whatever . . . I’m getting off track. I don’t really have to make anything look noticeably different, just do enough to where I’m out of my own head. Like just . . . put some shit into piles and stuff.

The point is that it’s perfect for a garden-novice like me to putter around and make a few sweet things happen without being totally overwhelming. And if any real work needs to be done, Delia knows how to use six hours to completely transform a landscape problem or crazy-ass weed-patch into THERE YOU GO ALL DONE.

A nude demonstration this morning under a grey sky of the fun I had yesterday under a blue sky:

I did some clean-up in the yard, like cutting down and pulling out blackberry and blackcap vines. I was surprised how sore my muscles got from this activity; my arms and shoulder and chest feel like I got in a real workout, partly because of the stretching up high and far away and deep down, but probably mostly because our loppers are rusty as are most of our garden tools. Neither this house nor the last one we lived in has a garage or much storage space and we haven’t wasted money on one of those plastic yard closets or storage lockers, so after years of being wrapped in tarps outside or just left out, they’re pretty fucked up. We can still use them, but it’s harder. Hence the extra-sore muscles. I’m not complaining though because it’s fun free exercise.

I actually feel kind of bad about cutting down so much of the blackcaps – they’re yummy, they attract birds, they’re not as invasive as the blackberries – but they distract from the other plants and we’re trying to prepare to use the yard as much as possible for shooting. And they reach out and grab your ankles and pants when you’re just trying to walk by them.

They don’t seem to make protective leather work gloves in a size small enough for my hands, so I often use the loppers to hold onto the vines and try to pull them out and move them to the discard pile. I still managed to scratch my face with thorns, though.

I also did some other stuff around the yard, like picking up limbs and debris that blew off trees during our stormy weather. I piled some of the branches up in places where I want the grass to die down.

I also stepped in one of the neighbor’s dog’s shit piles IN OUR YARD. RIGHT ON MY FUCKING PATH!!

I thought I’d located (and photographed) all of them after I made a tiny misstep, but then I wound up with a total stinky shoe-ruiner, like a wet cheap-dog-food messy pile my foot found that squished up on the side of my shoe and almost got into my velcro!

Yes, I have shoes that utilize velcro!

I decided to not be TOO mad about it, as it provided me relief that this neighbor and I are now fully fucking EVEN if she was bothered by me not-on-purpose flashing her or by all of the noisy sex H. Rugaru and I had when he was here. Okay, I was still “too” mad about it, as I scowled for at least forty-five minutes and even crossed the street to make a bizarre display of myself trying to wipe my shoe off, publicly swearing and muttering. Made even more bizarre by the fact that nobody else was actually outside to witness me sliding and stomping and dragging my contaminated limb around.

As long as we live in a society where polluting groundwater and other people’s private property with feces is viewed as friendly and the best way to show our love of animals, I’m going to feel free to grunt and moan and holler in the middle of the night and run around naked like a bozo during the day. SO THERE!

Also! If the reward for adulthood is having to tie and untie and tie and untie shoelaces, then we simply don’t deserve technology!!

Sorry this nudie pic of the day sucks; it would have been awesome but after futzing with settings, I noticed motion behind the neighbor’s open blinds and realized it totally looked like I was deliberately flashing her AND looking straight over at her when I was really just trying to just get more light on my face. From her vantage point she wouldn’t have been able to see Delia with the phone taking pictures, only me looking like a weird naked lady opening and closing her robe by the window on Sunday morning. That might have felt very creepy to our neighbor.

Looking disgruntled over presence of neighbor.

I kind of detest people sometimes. I have no reason to detest our neighbor or to think she has a problem with our sometimes-nude ways behind our big open windows, but having to be aware of and considerate of others just makes me want to throw my day-off plans to the wind today in order to work in order to eventually have enough money TO NOT HAVE MOTHERFUCKING NEIGHBORS. I don’t want to see/hear/smell them or be seen/heard/smelled BY them. I feel sorry for her, too, because she might feel as though she needs to keep HER blinds and shades closed so it doesn’t appear that she’s looking over here (or because she’s disgusted by us), and I don’t want anyone to feel that way. I mean, I don’t want someone to sit at their window eating popcorn and staring inside our house either, but I don’t want to embarrass someone or gross someone out/make them uncomfortable or make someone feel pressure to avert her gaze when she’s trying to relax in her home.

I can’t wait for spring and some of the foliage and vines to leaf out and make things SLIGHTLY more private over here.

Still wearing the same coat and sweatpants as last year (and years before), but with a vibrant emoticon!

Ahhhh, but here’s a nicer message:

Some more pics from our walk & stuff:

Wild rose bushes in winter.

Thorns, black stars & vitamin C.

Snowy evergreens & deep untrodden snow.

Delia snapping pics of fir cones with her phone.

The cabin, as seen from inside the house this morning:

The cabin, trimmed in snow & icicles.

I’m snug inside there right now, as a matter of fact.

From the set of pictures we took yesterday that I posted last night, looking like your average neighborly housewife in her plaid robe:

Teasing you with the possibility of opening my robe.

Drinking hot coffee out of Delia’s pretty mug in the snowy backyard and flashing my cold jugs. I don’t know what’s going on with my left nipple, but it’s more enormous than I’ve ever seen it before:

My nipples are hard & areolas bumpy from the cold . . . brrr!!

And taking my clothes off . . . for fun, to gauge the temperature . . . and to TEASE you!

Stripping off my robe in the snow.

This robe is a favorite of mine since I was a teenager . . . it’s pretty ragged, but I can’t bear to part with it.

About to throw open my robe for a big flash!

There are 138 pictures in this picture set for members. Zip file includes all images at 1600 pixels on the long side.

Drinking coffee, flashing my beaver.

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Snow on my nude body.

It’s still snowing here! We took a walk in it for fun and to snap some nudie pics this morning . . . it’s super powdery. I’ll post more pics here tonight.

I come to thee nude upon a trail of snow, bearing a message of peace, good tidings . . . and a gift of hot coffee! Drink from my cup, and shiver no more . . .

I’m happy we don’t have to drive in the snow in order to make a buck. You can be jealous of us if you want, but do you really have what it takes to get on all fours NAKED in the snow to pose for pictures to make a living? If not, you may not call my life simply “lucky”. Instead you shall call me (and others of my ilk) AWESOME!

Drive safe, Puget Sounders (and other Pacific Northwesterners ill-equipped for thick snow)!

The weather forecast and everyone talking say it’s supposed to snow today or tonight. 90% chance! But maybe this was it? There are patches of blue and sunshine right now which is kind of disappointing since for once I’m actually looking forward to snow, partly because my period is due tomorrow and I was hoping to make some blood in the snow. And partly because we did some good planning and did errands this morning, stocking up on groceries and getting a grippy carpet runner for our deck that gets treacherously slick and icy.

I ask you, sky . . . where is your snow?

It’s also a little windy. I saw one robin this morning, and a tiny brown bird this afternoon that blew across the yard straight into a small dark hole in the salal where I imagine it being round and contained and cozy in the protective bush shadows.

Blue and grey sky and sunshine peeking through.

I guess it still might snow tonight or tomorrow.

Hazy shade of winter over the cabin.

Our tank is full of propane and we dug a long, thick velvety curtain out of storage and bought a tension rod to keep all of our downstairs heat from floating up into the stairwell. The past couple of months our stairwell has luxuriated in sweltering temperatures and overshared warmth with Delia’s camming & workspace and our sleeping alcove. Today we put a stop to that. So go ahead and snow!

PS – H. Rugaru is still blogging and tweeting (and in a place now where they laugh at what we call “snow” and “cold” here in the Puget Sound area – I don’t know if I’d be taking nudie pics outside in Nebraska). Anyway, I’m going to try to change his blog settings a bit or see if Lightning Allie can to make the pictures he posts from his phone BIGGER!

In the cabin loft where we now have a webcam thanks to H. Rugaru (formerly known as “The Hunter”) who also shot this pic right before we fucked:

Rear view of me naked except for panties down around my legs.

He wants me to keep the creampie pics from this sex session private. For today, at least.

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Starting today, the first Monday of 2012, I’m trying again to diligently log the number of hours I work along with formulating very specific all-day schedules and to-do lists. With three of us living and working together I need to have very good plans so that I know what I’m doing . . . and can communicate that to Delia and Hunter. I want to be doing my best every day to contribute and be healthy.

In case you’re wondering, fucking was NOT on my schedule for today (he was originally just up there to take pics of me naked!), but I still counted it as work because you could have been watching it on our spycams. It’s not a performance, but it is live content for our members. Note: I wouldn’t have counted staying in bed all day and lazily off-and-on-fucking, though, as hours worked.

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