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My Album/Artist of the Year
#SubmissiveAdvent I listen to music all the time, but I rarely attach to a particular artist enough to buy an album anymore. I think that has a lot to do with streaming services like Spotify that allow me instant access to pretty much anything I want. I only downloaded two whole albums this year: Chris Stapleton and Luke Coombs So if I were handing out awards, my album and artist of the year would be Chris Stapleton (From a Room), and my runner up would be Luke Combs (What You See is What You Get). My favorite songs? Chris Stapleton: Millionaire, Tennessee Whiskey Luke Combs: Forever After All Yeah, it’s been…
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Wise Words
#SubmissiveAdvent Today’s topic is “wise words,” and I immediately thought of my daily journal entry, which I basically copy and paste to review and update every morning. Here’s the template that I use: Gratitude: 1. 2. 3. Intention: 3 good things: (I fill this in at the end of the day.) 1. 2. 3. ——————————— CDFs: (stands for “core desired feelings”) “A goal without a plan is just a wish.” 1. HEALTHY…Mentally, physically, emotionally “You can’t pour from an empty cup.” 2. CONNECTED with the people who matter. 3. PRODUCTIVE “Remember your why.” “You are totally replaceable at work. You are not replaceable at home. Always remember that, and…
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The Good Perfume
#SubmissiveAdvent I’ve never been a fan of owning “good” dishes or glassware that I only pull out for special occasions. Even my “nice” dishes are just from Walmart. And most of the rest is hand-me-downs from my mom. So why do I have “good” perfume, that I know He loves, that I only pull out for special occasions? Today, I decided that’s dumb. If He likes it and it makes me feel sexy, I should be wearing it all the fucking time. I suppose there is the theory that keeping it “special” makes it stand out. But honestly, if we get tired of it or it loses its appeal, there…
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Erotic poems, love letters, and sexy lingerie
Basket of Figs By Ellen Bass Bring me your pain, love. Spread it out like fine rugs, silk sashes, warm eggs, cinnamon and cloves in burlap sacks. Show me the detail, the intricate embroidery on the collar, tiny shell buttons, the hem stitched the way you were taught, pricking just a thread, almost invisible. Unclasp it like jewels, the gold still hot from your body. Empty your basket of figs. Spill your wine. That hard nugget of pain, I would suck it, cradling it on my tongue like the slick seed of pomegranate. I would lift it tenderly, as a great animal might carry a small one in the private…
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Waiting
We spend a lot of time waiting for each other. In the Fall, my focus shifts, and He waits for me. At first, patiently. But then, it often grows into anxiety, and impatience, disappointment, and then depression. By mid-November, when I’m coming back to land, I find that I am now waiting for Him. In my own view, I have a dozen draws on my attention. I’m a wife. I’m a mother. And in my work, I serve dozens of people…even hundreds at times. I have friends to hang out with on Friday nights. I have parents. I both gain and lose energy from each of these sources. And I…
