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Archive for the ‘PORNOGRAPHY’ Category

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.

*****

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.

*****

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.

*****

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!!

Hello birds and morning sunshine!! Here’s my fucking whisker biscuit!! Yeah, I just woke up in this picture:

Wearing pink nighty, flashing my BUSH, being silly in the backyard!

I tried to take some pics and vids of the birds with my phone, but they didn’t turn out good enough. I’m thrilled about the sunshine and blue skies and bird activity, though!

The blue sky this morning touching our roof

Delia took some great pictures of me yesterday and last night, plus a wet pink video that made her panties damp with precum. I had no idea she was that excited until she showed me . . . it gave me faith that all the work was worth it.

After that she gave me a foot massage, then I rubbed her big hard cock through her panties. Then I sucked it. And then she was so so so so so excited that it made ME so so so so so so excited and we both came fast.

Then we went to the store for cookie dough, but on the way we saw a HUGE FUCKING ORANGE CRESCENT MOON sitting on top of a road leading a different direction, so we whipped around and tried to catch up to it. It looked like we’d be able to drive a couple of miles and be right under it, like it wasn’t the moon at all, but a much-closer giant sphere being lit up by men from here on Earth that you could almost reach up and touch.

It was super windy last night! We could barely sleep because it was SO LOUD and big branches and sticks and stuff were falling onto our roof. Here I am naked, wearing glasses, playing with one of the fallen tree-pieces, enjoying the ABSOLUTELY FUCKING AWESOME winter sunshine:

Much bigger than a fig leaf, yet provides less coverage:

Backyard warrior planting my rustic spear-flag in the ground with menacing expression:

I kind of want to go racing around the neighborhood like that, running into people’s yards and squatting down in territorial poses, squirting tiny blasts of pee on people’s tires.

Lost our internet connection. Had to cancel shows for tonight. Fingers crossed back up by morning for shows planned then.

I’m still so slow at typing on my phone.

I’m so crazy I’m holding onto this broom handle for dear life!

We tracked in a lot of fir needles and such wearing boots in the snow; time to sweep it all up!

I wrote a blog entry yesterday, but it was all crazy and depressing and exposed too much so I didn’t post it!

Why do I feel like putting an exclamation point at the end of that sentence makes me sound MORE well-adjusted instead of less?

Part of our roof and above it: so blue this morning I feel saved!

*****

Yesterday I also made a few little adjustments to DailyTrixie.com (not ALL the adjustments I want to make, just a few).

I’m considering making a very inexpensive members-only area on there to house fuller galleries from my little daily nudie pic shoots including outtakes and bigger versions of the pictures. It would be included as part of our network for people who join our regular sites or also be joinable singularly at $10 every three months. Something like that. I also want to make a monthly drawing people can get tickets to by leaving comments on my blog. Maybe the prizes would be access to this nudie pic site.

I’ve wanted to make cheap themed mini-sites for a long time, but I’ve also wanted to do a million other things for a long time, so let’s not hold our breath. Feedback is greatly appreciated, though. Like if that sounds cool to you, let me know!

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.

It’s mild, muddy and all green and brown outside, with only a few patches of unmelted snow in our yard:

I didn’t even feel chilly standing outside with my legs and bush exposed wearing this thin henley on top:

OKAY . . . so maybe it WAS a little cold!

A picture of the snow and ice melting off the roof over the cabin’s doorway:

A little snow left today in the cracks of the path to the cabin:

I kept track of the hours I worked this week; anything I do today counts as “overtime” . . . so I’m going to try to take it easy and recharge to start next week off with lots of energy. I think Delia and I are going to see a movie. I have to actually plan non-work things to do or I’ll just sit here at my computer(s) working.

It’s supposed to rain and rain and rain for days and days. And they say high winds might blow some (more) trees down. Luckily we haven’t lost power at all; other people (like my mom and Lightning Allie) around Puget Sound have been without power for days. Delia and I have it pretty good up here!