The Days You Want To Die

If you are dealing with depression or anxiety you get it. We all have them.

They are the days you wake up and think nothing is worth it anymore. Try or not? No one gets you. They think they understand…

“I get sad, too.” “We’ve all lost things in our life.” “If you just think more positive…” “I don’t like shopping on busy days either”

That one got to me.

You don’t like shopping on busy days so you think you understand me?

Until you have collapsed in the middle of the cracker isle, unable to move because you can’t afford your meds to deal with this kind of situation, you have no idea what I go through!

Anxiety is a bitch!

People who don’t have mental health issues seldom understand. You know. The ones who love us but don’t have our mental health issues.

They try so hard. But sometimes? In not understanding they do more harm than good. And when you feel so misunderstood you just feel like, “why go on?”

I going to end this by saying… I am not feeling suicidal. Please don’t panic.

But if anyone who reads my blog ever feels that way? Just know that someone out there understands. No one is ever alone. We all have days that death may seem like our best option.

You don’t need to feel that way. I struggle sometimes to find reasons to go on. I find them and you can, too.

If you ever need to know that someone in the world gives a shit about you? Send me a message with your address and I will send you a handwritten note so you know someone heard you and thinks of you and wishes you well.

Please, stay alive on the days you want to die. You’ve got this!

Growing My Potted Garden

outdoor garden

Where I lived last year the owner fenced in an entire section of raised garden beds for me. This summer I don’t have the luxury of that kind of space but I think I managed to pull off a nice little planter garden!

tomatoes  peas  potatoes


herb ladder planter parsley

Tomatoes, peas, potatoes, peppers, spinach, lettuce and a plethora of delightful herbs including parsley, basil, marjoram, lavender and catnip. I have marigolds placed about to help with bug control and other flowers to attract bees.


I started early and already I harvested spinach, basil and parsley for my homemade pasta sauce today.

garden to table

This summer my garden may be a little on the smaller side but it is still growing like gangbusters and it makes my yard look so pretty!

Care Cards

I wonder sometimes where my obsession for sending mail to people by post (that tangible real mail they can touch with my own handwriting) comes from. Why? Why send a card just to say I am thinking of you? No news, just … I thought of you today.

I send them as often as I can to anyone who will give me an address. Why?

Care Cards!

When I was in Bible College we had student mail boxes. Beside them was a rack of blank cards called Care Cards. Did someone help you? Did you think someone gave a great insight in class? Did someone get some sad mail and need a boost?

Care cards were there to send that message. You could sign it or not. If you didn’t really know the person but wanted to send them some love you could look their mailbox number up on the board and just stuff in a care card.

Care cards are the first place I found some real self esteem. I was overweight and not the most outgoing. I stuck to a close group of people who weren’t the cool crowd. Somewhere along the way people started to notice me.

Maybe it was that I smiled at people even if I didn’t talk. It could be my dorm mates just saw me differently after living with me…  I’m not sure.

By the time I was done my first year at Briercrest? My entire dorm room was wall papered with Care Cards. With every expression of gratitude for a kindness I never realized I gave and every thought for my well being? I learned people love me for who I am.

Bible College was the first place I never ‘faked it’. Still people cared.

I was so troubled back then. Not even 18 and fresh out of high school.  Homesick. Sexually confused. A bit suicidal.

Every care card got me through another day. The people who sent them to me, anonymous or otherwise, have no idea how they impacted a scared teenage girl.

Pretty sure I just figured out where my penchant for sending postal love comes from 😉




Painting A Fence

I wish I had a phone right now so I could’ve taken pictures.

Today, I painted a fence. Someone in a local group on Facebook put it out there, “My client needs some help painting a fence. They are willing to pay $20/hr. Is anyone available.”

Not having anything to do today? I replied (tagging a friend FB style)… “Jeff, are you free today? I know you like piece work. I would do it but I don’t have transport.”

Between the three of us? Jeff was available. He agreed to take me with him so I could earn a little cash. We agreed to do it as two people for the same pay. A bit of cash for each.

And today I painted a fence.

It took all of two hours between four people.

The wonderful young woman who was looking for help? She’s so pregnant and supposed to be feet up! Her retired parents were the other two making up the four with myself and Jeff.

What a terrific time we had painting that fence. We all bantered and chattered back and forth. We talked about Ireland, living in the Canadian prairies,  life on the Island as being ‘new to the island’. Where we lived before and all our adventures.

Two hours later I was $30 richer in pocket but 100% fuller in heart. It was the most loveliest of ways to earn a buck today!

Painting a fence. Who knew it would lead to such a heartfelt day?


I have a stretch of time alone in my space today. I thought of all the things I could do, some things that need to be done because they have been neglected. It felt very overwhelming at first and I had no idea where to begin. My thoughts were running around so much I couldn’t concentrate and it made me feel like I would spend the whole day in anxiety, failing at accomplishing anything with my precious alone time.

When my mind is clouded by rampaging thoughts and I feel like they are engulfing my spirit the starting point is cleansing. So I set about clearing the negative energy and purifying my space.

I started with quiet reflection and setting the intention to cleanse the energy in my space and clear my mind. I meditated to some Celtic music and afterward I smudged my space with Sage as I danced, unclothed, around the entire trailer ensuring that I smudged every part. I focused on cleansing the negative energy and wishing a quiet, peaceful mind and heart for all who come into my home.

Afterward,  I lit a blue candle for peaceful energy and lavender incense for relaxation.

What a release. And a perfect beginning.

Tidying up after my cleansing dance led to naturally taking up some of the tasks I had been avoiding so long. I dusted my living room and vacuumed very thoroughly. I washed down some of the furniture.

I moved on to the outdoors. I watered my garden and harvested some spinach for a sauce I am going to make.

Back indoors? I cleaned up my kitchen, did dishes and began preparing a feast of a dinner for tonight.

My mind isn’t perfectly clear of ruminating thoughts, par for the course with anxiety, but after today’s cleansing ritual I feel more focused than I was. I don’t feel overwhelmed anymore. And I feel like I got some things accomplished today.


All Mine!

magnificent dick n abs


There IT is. That’s MY cock.

Oh yeah. Pretty much any time I want! All I need to do is bare my boobies or bend over all coy and the cock is ready to play with. Heck, we could just be watching Netflix and if I reach over to get a feel? It hardens in my hand like my own personal lollipop.

It responds to everything I do.

It twitches and jerks in my mouth when I use my tongue just right. When I have my hand wrapped around it and my other cupping the balls? It oozes with delight just getting reday to slide into me. Hand jobs are so easy with a slippery dick.

You don’t really get the full idea of it’s size from this pic. I know, right? Yes, it does go past his belly button. But it’s much thicker in person.

I haven’t had kids but I’ve been around the block so I don’t consider myself ‘virginal’ down there. However I seem to have to work that cock in every time. Slow like. Even when I’ve been loosened up by tongue and fingers? That very large member has a difficult time working in.

And it’s all mine. Mmmm….

“Will You Poop On Me?” (Anna Ferris)

I watched a movie recently. Movie 43. It’s the rudest, crudest movie I have ever LOVED.

One scene had has a poop feature. I’m not a spoiler so I won’t shit the details on ya. Worth a watch though.

But what about when someone asks you to do something you aren’t interested in?

I used to be on webcam and got many a request I would not fulfill. Put my empty wine bottle in my ass? NO. Pee on my roommate? NO. It was easy to say no to ‘out there’ requests from randoms on a webcam feed.

So when the person you love asks you for something? And your first thought is… “are you twisted?”  How do you respond?


My love brought up something recently that I laughed at. We laughed about it, a running joke because it’s a familiar issue outside of the request. (sorry to be vague but it really it kinda personal)

It IS a joke. But the more we talk and joke and laugh….. the more it has become something that might happen. It was HIS suggestion. And a joke.

So does something so weird shared between two people get qualified as a fetish? It’s not something either of us ever thought of or wanted from another person before. It’s completely a joke but seems somehow something I suddenly WANT (even though it’s NOT my thing). I want it just to say I buckled up and did it.

Regardless of the title… I do not want him to poop on me. It’s just something far more innocent but equally weird.

So….   when you are faced with a strange thing? Do you do it?

I did once. I found out I like something I never knew I could. (Panty Stuffing )

Maybe I’d like what we’ve been joking about.


Fair Trade?


This morning was one of the first times in a long time Paul came to me, fresh out of the shower, and just opened his towel. He was hard as a rock. He’d been thinking about me…

I took his cock in my mouth. I was a bit startled by his boldness (he tends to be shy) and rewarded it with an enthusiastic knob gobbling until he came all over my chest. Mmm, mmm good times!

Tonight? We were both freshly showered, I was freshly shaved and he wanted to return the favour.

So we made out. I was still toweled and he was so eager… I came just from the eagerness.

He took me too the bed and went down on me. It was pre-gamed by a lot of deep kissing (something he is an expert at) and some teenage style groping (mostly on my part LOL) but as soon as his lips and tongue even started to enter my freshly shaved box? I came again.

Sooner than later? He was in me. He pulled me up on him so I could ride. He was penetrating me so deep from underneath I cried out a bit and he laid me down. He kissed me gently and I tugged hard at his shoulders.

I worked my way down his back to his taught ass and pulled him harder into me. He looked at me, kissed me hard and thrust deep as I came more hard than the first times.

And I was spent while he was still hard.

He’s amazing. It’s okay I finished and he didn’t. It’s weird because that is usually the other way around for couples.

Ah, he came on my chest this morning. Don’t I deserve to cum three times?



I Need Air

In my spiritual journey I have explored so many assets of myself.

EARTH. I plant. I learn about the foliage around me for what is wild edibles and medibles.

FIRE. I have used fire in my cleansing and I have fires regularly while I meditate on how fire cleanses.

WATER: I’ve had spiritual experiences at the ocean. With fire. And not. More recently? I fell into the ocean on Beltane and  bricked my phone because it was in my pocket. LOL

But AIR? I haven’t done air yet.

Today, I was exposed to some sky-diving videos.

My very best friend in the entire universe from many years back gave up alcohol to pursue better things. He wanted family, better jobs and… air. He wanted to skydive.

So…  if my long time bestie can give up alcohol to pursue other things? I can give up my wine. At least long enough to pursue AIR.

If I was Wiccan and wanted to call the four corners? Air is a key.

I am pagan. I don’t ‘call’ anything. However I feel I want/need to bring all the components of the universe to me.

I have felt the earth. My gardens grow in the most inexplicable places. I have felt the fire. I spent months cooking over one to feed the family around me. I have used it to cleanse my soul. I have felt the water. I wash my feet in the ocean while I contemplate how I can keep creating life.

Air? I have not felt.

It’s the last of the quadrant. I think I have a way to get it. It’s a terrifying, kind of expensive on my budget, idea. Thus, the giving up of wine to pursue it.

I’m going to give up wine for a month and put that money toward sky-diving. There is a place that is local who does the skydiving thing. I watched a video of someone diving from that local place.

I won’t lie. The thought mortifies me. Giving up wine? LOL I’m more scared of that than the idea of jumping out a plane and that makes me want to crawl in a hole.

But I need AIR. And watching those falls? After the terrifying push out of the plane where I shit my pants on the instructor riding tandem? I think I could love a free fall through AIR. Pull that rip cord and let me float and meditate about it. I may even prepare something to say through my mind as I float.


It’s worth a break on wine. We’ll see how long that actually takes.





Well, it’s about time I write about this.

There are a lot of people who think I am a racist. It could be from accusations made about me on ARC (anti-racist Canada). Some people think I am racist because I was betrothed to a National Socialist.

And maybe, in some people’s eyes, my position is a bit racist. But I think of it as Nationalist. I believe there is a difference. I want to put my own country and our people’s needs (particularly homeless and disabled) before those of other nations.

Whether or not that is a racist position would depend on who I consider to be ‘our people’. A question I am really never asked. As soon as I say ‘our people’ it is assumed I mean white people. Probably because of some of my associations, but an assumption nonetheless.

I think it makes me a Nationalist. I’m for Canadian people!

Another reason people call me racist is because I only date white people.

My inclination to date ‘within my own’ was never taught. To be perfectly frank? I was never really attracted to anyone outside my own race. I went on a few dates with people who were other ethnicities but never found a connection.

Some of that is a general look that comes from certain races. That is about attraction. If I were to say I only like men with beards? That’s fine. Only men who have a beer belly? Fine! Only men who are so old they can be a ‘daddy figure’? Somehow (even though it’s pervy) that is okay, too.

When my white GF’s say they like ‘big black dick’ that is totally fine. I have a male friend who will only date Asian women. That’s totally acceptable. Practically commendable because it’s bi-racial.

But if I say I am more attracted to men who are white? Because I am also white it is about racism, not attraction.

I think that’s wrong. I should be allowed to be attracted to whomever I want! When my pal says, “Looks at that hot chocolate!” (referring to the black woman who just walked in the bar) I should be allowed to say, “I prefer the marshmallow over there!”

Some of it is religious. I couldn’t be in a relationship with a Jew any more than I could a Catholic, Muslim or Mormon. And somehow it is okay that many other faiths chastise their children for dating outside their faith (Jewish, Islamic, Hutterite) but if I say I would not date a Jew or Muslim? I’m a hater. A racist. Intolerant.

Truthfully? I have friends from every faith, race, culture, sexual orientation. We have fabulous conversations about our similarities and differences. My truest friends see my point of view. Many have their own opposing views that I have listened to. We agree to disagree on what we disagree on but remain friends.

So am I a racist?