Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Come Meet New Author Danielle Logan!

There is a new author on the spanking fiction scene and I invited her over so you could say hi! Her name is Danielle Logan and she's just put out her first book Taming the Preacher's Daughter. She's sharing an excerpt with us!

A tear streamed down his cheek, he turned back to the window, hoping Savi didn’t see it. “I’m sorry Savi, I don’t think this can work. I don’t think we can be together. We want two very different things. I can’t stand to hurt you, not again. I just love you too much.” He hung his head in shame.

 “Oh, Eric. That's definitely not what I want. I want to fix this problem. You aren’t the reason I drank. I drank because I wanted to have fun. I did want to forget about the spanking, but not because I was mad at you. I was confused; I am still confused. I shouldn’t have told you that I was ready; I don’t think that I was, but I was so afraid of losing you. But I’m ready now. I want you, I love you, Eric. I can do this now. Together we can make this work, I know we can.”

Eric could feel Savi’s presence behind him. She grabbed his shoulder to turn him around; locking eyes with him she whispered, “I love you, Eric. I am so sorry for the pain I have caused you.” Savi then leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

He grabbed her neck and pulled her in closer, she was sweet like honey. He could feel the passion behind her lips, and with a smile, he pulled away and rested his forehead on hers.  He was breathless and full of regret when he spoke. “Savannah, we can’t be doing this.”

Savi grabbed his hand and pulled him to the couch. “I know, but there is something we can do. Well, rather, you can do.” She looked at him, gazing into his eyes meaningfully. 

He could tell she was trying to tell him something, and he knew he should be getting it, but he just wasn’t. He looked at her blankly. “And what’s that?”

Buy it today:

Savi wanted to be everything she wasn’t. Tired of being the perfect preacher's daughter, she wants to step out of her father’s shadow.
Deciding to go against everything she has been taught and wanting her first summer back from college to be a wild one, she begins to party and she sets her sights on the local lifeguard Eric.
Eric has always had a place in Savi’s heart, secretly she has always wanted to be with him.
After finding out that Eric attends her father’s church and realizing what her father’s church really practices, Savi goes on a downward spiral. Can love conquer her fears?

Meet Danielle Logan!
I always dreamt of being an author of fiction books. To me the subject really didn't matter, I just wanted to use my imagination. As a teen I would write and then throw it away, not thinking I would ever be good enough. A while ago, I began reading spanking stories, and they stirred something in me, caused me to dream about writing something similar. I began to write spanking fiction, and shared it with my friend/author. She told me it was a story that needed to be written, one that others would enjoy, and that is how I got here. 
 I am married to my wonderful husband, we have four beautiful children and a pit-bull named Lola.  I am native to the Pacific Northwest, if you don't like the weather wait five minutes, it will change.  I am currently working on my masters in teaching with an emphasis on history and literature, a passion I'm sure you will see in a future book. 


Sunday, January 18, 2015

Doesn’t Every Girl Need a Sugar Daddy?~ Guest Post by Renee Rose

I have Renee Rose visiting today, she's talking about Sugar Daddies and her new book Mob Mistress. I got to a read a sneak preview of this one and let me tell you it is H-O-T, so if you haven't gotten it yet you should do yourself a favor and buy it now :)

My husband told me recently that there’s a website in my hometown called Sugar Babies, where hot female students from the University offer their services as escorts (ostensibly with no sex involved because that would be illegal). I’ve always been fascinated by this sort of arrangement. I guess it fits right in with my adoration of a power exchange in which one person is boss and the other is there to, well, let’s just say please.

In my new book, Mob Mistress, Bobby Manghini, a dominant hero with ties to the mafia, feels the same way about that sort of arrangement.

With a mistress, there was an unspoken — or maybe even spoken — business arrangement. The woman received financial benefit in exchange for being available. And he loved holding power over his woman.

Here’s what happens when he’s introduced to Lexi, a hairstylist in financial crisis ( the meeting is in Lexi’s point of view):

I told her you’d make a good sugar daddy,” Gina said with a smirk.
She felt her cheeks grow warm. Good God, now he would think she was a money-grubbing, desperate floozy.
The statement only seemed to interest Bobby, though. He turned his attention to her. “Is that so?”
She opened her lips to deny it, but found herself caught in his heated gaze, the appreciative assessment obvious. Forcing herself to exhale, she said, “No, she was only kidding.”
Bobby reached over and grasped the seat of her chair, pulling it forward until her knees came between his.
She gasped at the sudden movement and gave a nervous giggle. “What are you —?”
He made a show of looking her up and down. “Yes, I would definitely say you are sugar baby material.”
Dean and Gina laughed, egging him on.
She looked skyward again. “I feel like a horse at auction. Look, I never said —”
Bobby grinned and took hold of her jaw. “Right! Let’s see those teeth, little pony,” he said, pulling her face toward him. Instead of looking in her mouth, he lowered his face, sweeping his lips lightly across hers. Softer than she expected, they tasted faintly of whiskey. Though she ought to be turned off by being so manhandled, the moment he pulled away, she missed his touch, wanting more.
Her heart rate quickened. Was this actually happening?
Bobby grinned and sat back, releasing her from his scrutiny.
Recovered from her fluster, she gave herself a quick pep talk. What did she have to lose, really? A sugar daddy would solve all her problems, if this was for real. She gave him a seductive look. “Are you in the market for a sugar baby?”
He threw his head back and laughed, a deep, rich rumbling sound that for no known reason made her tingle. “As a matter of fact, I am. But when I take a goomah, I expect her to be at my beck and call, available any time I please.”
She swallowed, her panties dampening at the idea of being his sexual servant. “And what exactly would you offer in return?”
Bobby placed both his hands on her thighs and made little circles around her knees. “Living expenses and spending cash. How does that sound?”
Gina and Dean made enthusiastic murmurings as their eyes locked. Heat pooled in her center core, traveling up until her face grew warm. Her breath rose and fell in a rapid rhythm.
He leaned closer and spoke in a low, rumbling voice, “But you should know, I would use you however I wanted, whenever I wanted. And I would demand fidelity. No other men.”
What about women?” she asked.
Only if I get to watch.”

Mob Mistress blurb
When hair stylist Lexi Tyler finds herself evicted from her apartment, her best friend sets her up with the mobster Bobby Manghini, knowing he likes to play sugar daddy. He offers her a luxury apartment overlooking the city and spending cash every time he sees her, but one thing is clear: he is the bossman.

Lexi soon discovers Bobby backs up his rules with firm, over the knee discipline, but he also takes responsibility for all her problems, giving her more support than she ever dreamed of having from a man

Mobster Bobby Manghini likes to be the man in control, particularly with women, which is why he prefers a mistress for sex, even though he’s no longer married. When he strikes a deal with Lexi to be at his beck and call, he finds in her the full package -- a hot, intelligent woman who is turned on by his dominance and willing to submit to his punishment. But when she finds out he doesn’t have a wife, she is hurt by the deception and severs all ties.

Can he prove to her their relationship meant more than a business arrangement? Or will he lose the one woman willing to give him everything he ever desired?

Buy links

Renee Rose is a naughty author and kinkster who loves writing about hot alpha males, Dominance/submission and power exchanges. Named Eroticon USA's Next Top Erotic Author in 2013, her books are all centered around kink, namely: spanking. She also writes BDSM under the name Darling Adams.

She can be found on:

Saturday, January 17, 2015

A Tasty Spanking Romance~ Short, Cheap Read!

Big News!! Friday, January 30th A Taste of Discipline is being discussed over at Celeste Jones' Spanking Stories Book Club!!

Have any of you ever gone to a real life book club and could just not finish the book in time? You don't have to worry about that with this one, it's short! It might take up 30 minutes of your life. It's also cheap! Short and cheap, not exactly words an author should use when talking up her work, but I am being honest here. It's just supposed to be a 'taste' (get it?), I also think I packed a lot of emotion into one little book.

Some reviewers seemed to think my heroine was a be-otch, but that wasn't my intention in writing her. It's just a glimpse into her life and she feels stressed out and worn thin- so if you have never been there then maybe you wouldn't understand. There is a lot of myself in Sam, my loving husband gets the brunt of it when I am fraying at the seams, but that's the trade off- he gets my best so he also gets my worst.

In the story Ryan has just pulled her into his office mid-meltdown, he's trying to level her out before sending her back into the busy kitchen.

"Just let me handle it. I have it under control." She was aiming for a more contrite tone, but judging by his reaction, she was still snapping. A live wire ready to burst into flames.

"Bend over the desk."

She shook her head as he began to circle back around toward her.

He came up behind her, his hands on her shoulders, gentle pressure pushing her forward.

She could have easily side stepped him, spun back, and told him to get the fuck away. She could have left the office, slamming the door behind her, letting him know in no uncertain terms just what she thought of his power play.

But she didn't want to. He was taking control and making her relinquish it. She started to be able to breathe again. As he pushed her down to stretch her torso across the desk the air pushed from her lungs.

He stood behind her, his muscular thighs pressing her legs into the desk. He had her trapped with his body and she could slowly feel a weight being lifted off her chest.

"What do you think you're accomplishing?"

She shook her head, a tiny shake from side to side as she rested her cheek on the papers Ryan had scattered across the desk.

His hands slipped around her waist, untying the drawstring at the front of her pants, and she screwed her eyes shut. He tugged her pants and panties down in one fluid motion and she felt a moment of panic that he would spank her. She hoped he wouldn't, because what could be worse than having her staff hear her not only being scolded, but then spanked? They would never listen to her again.

He ran his hands over her naked ass, and even though her shirt stuck to her with sweat, she shivered under his touch. He stepped back, stroking down her thighs, then up, skimming across her globes again, then pressing his thumbs into the knot that was forming in her lower back. She sighed and sunk down further, causing her ass to stick out more.

He massaged up her back, working her spine, rubbing the tension out of her shoulders. Until he finally folded over on top of her. She could feel his erection pressing against her ass through his jeans. He brought his head down beside her, talking into her ear. "You need to get it together out there."

She nodded, but her eyes remained closed.

"Should I spank you now? Right here for everyone to hear?" He slid his hands down her back, giving her buttocks a firm squeeze.

She mewled out a tiny protest beneath him. The danger of taking a spanking with just a thin door between her and her staff titillating. Maybe it was the trust that he wouldn't do it, or the risk that maybe this time she had pushed him too far. She wasn't sure why, but the thought of it was making her wet.

Sam is a classically trained chef. She runs her kitchen like a well-oiled machine, and steam rolls anyone who gets in the way of that. She likes to be in control and has a hard time adjusting when she can't be.

Ryan is her husband and partner. As the manager of the restaurant they own, he tries to ensure that his wife is not over working herself and not blowing up at their employees.

They're trying to find a balance in life, love, and cooking. It just might take a little discipline.

This book includes themes of domestic discipline, spankings, graphic sex, anal play, and more. If any of this subject matter offends you, please do not purchase this book.

Buy it now- FREE on Kindle Unlimited!

Friday, January 16, 2015

Bad Girl Spankings

Continuing on with The Year of the Spank: I brought up the idea, way back when, of spankings as a punishment. A consequence, or as a way to resolve a matter or a point of contention. Mr. McKay countered that a spanking really wouldn't be any sort of punishment. I like them too much, they turn me on and make me come quicker than any other thing in the universe.

I argued that it is all about the mind set. That really I craved this discipline (okay, in the back of my mind I find it pretty hot and it is a fantasy to be scolded and punished- so maybe he was a little right). The point is, he wouldn't listen to me. And to further infuriate me if we argue about something stupid or he just thinks I am being a snot he will say something like, "Well that's no way to get a spanking." Or he declares he isn't spanking me again until he feels like I have earned it.

I don't know if he realizes that in a way he is giving me what I want, it's a consequence of sorts. But really I think he just likes to tweak me because there is nothing that can piss me off quicker than telling me I can't have something. I may not have even been thinking about it, but the second you tell me I can't have it then that is all I want. It always works out in his favor because then I try to be extra nice and the day always ends with me begging for it and begging for other things ;)

So I never thought we would get to a point where he would actually use a spanking like a consequence. Until we got the new cable box (insert ominous music here).

What do spankings and cable boxes have to do with each other you may ask?

I know I mentioned at some point somewhere that Mr. McKay spanked me with the remote once (I can't remember if it was my blog or facebook and I can't find the post). But anyway, I hated it! It's plastic and heavy and it hurts. I don't like plastic as a spanking material- if anyone wanted to know.

Our cable box was being wonky, so the guy came out and replaced it with this fancy new one that looks like it belongs on a spaceship. He took the old one with him and told Mr. McKay that it was really old and they don't make them anymore.

I wasn't home at the time, once I did get home he is all excited to show the new box off to me (it does nothing different, it just looks fancy). Then he holds up the remote, "Look a new remote!"

I nod. Am I supposed to be excited about a remote?

"It's much lighter," he comments, handing it to me so I can feel the weight.

I agree, yes, it is much lighter. It's also a darker color than the old one, and that is when I realize the old one is still laying on the end table.

"Yeah, he said we could just throw this one out," he says holding up the old remote. "But I'm going to keep it. I'll leave it right here. It can be for bad girl spankings."

He says he gets nothing out of spanking, but I know he gets something out of teasing me, because the number of times I have been threatened with the remote now is countless. And I think it has something to do with the wide eyed, worried look he gets in return in the 5 seconds I am trying to decide if he's kidding or not.

Sure I could just throw it away when he isn't looking, but what would be the fun in that??

Thursday, January 15, 2015

The Chemistry of Relationships~ Guest Post by Cara Bristol

I have Cara Bristol here today talking about chemistry in relationships and sharing an excerpt from her new Rod and Cane book: Reasonable Doubts. I just bought my copy and can't wait to read it! 

Some define chemistry as a “spark.” I think of it as “glue” that bonds two people together until they can get to know each other in a deeper way and discover if true compatibility exists. At least initially, chemistry is a temporary, albeit powerful attractant.

I didn’t marry until I was 33 years old. Between the ages of 18 and 33, I dated a lot, but most ended at the first date because of a lack of chemistry. With only one exception , all dates in which I had chemistry resulted in long term relationships—and one in marriage.

When you meet someone with who you have chemistry, there is physical awareness, of course, but also a rapport, comfort instead of awkwardness, and an ease of communication, all of which build and begin to solidify a relationship. Chemistry is usually instantaneous—although not always.

(When I first saw the man who would become my husband, my exact thoughts were, “that’s the kind of guy I could go for.” And then I talked to him, and the actual attraction to him grew quickly. Our first date was the most comfortable first date I’ve ever been on.)

Chemistry can develop over time. People can begin as platonic friends, but then start “noticing” the other person. But for chemistry to work, i.e. bond two people, it must be mutual. It’s not always.

(I believe there is a chemistry to platonic friendships as well. We have many acquaintances, but far fewer friends. Some people we automatically “click” with and others we don’t. The one’s we click with become our friends while the others remain acquaintances).

Chemistry is so powerful, it can lead people to make bad decisions such as get involved with individuals who are wrong for them, remain in a bad relationships, or cheat on spouses, break up families, and destroy a good marriages. (There are other reasons for infidelity of course, but I think a common one is that chemistry may wane in a marriage, and then a spouse develops chemistry with someone else).

In Reasonable Doubts, widow Liz Davenport thinks she knows what she wants when she starts to date again. She wants a man like her late husband: an older, experienced disciplinarian. But chemistry draws her to Grant Davis. He’s not older. He’s no more experienced than she is, and he’s never spanked a woman in his life. Against her rational judgment, she gets involved with him.

How do you think chemistry affects a relationship?

Reasonable Doubts excerpt
“Let’s go.” Grant swatted her ass. A wave of longing rolled through her like thunder traveling across an open plain. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and swayed. More. Please more.
But there wouldn’t be more, because Grant wasn’t that way.
Why couldn’t he be a gentleman and a spanker? Was she foolish to start a relationship with a man who could give only half of what she needed? She’d never settled before. But at the idea of walking away from Grant, a little pang shot through her.
But maybe that ache afforded reason enough to call it quits—get out now before she became more attracted, more attached. She needed a man with the confidence to take her in hand and provide what she needed without her having to ask. A head of household who provided stability, structure, and discipline. A mother-may-I guy would not fit the bill.
Grant was a nice man. A good man. They had no commitments, but eventually she would meet someone who could provide everything she needed, and she would move on. It wasn’t right to use him to stave off the loneliness or to scratch an itch. He deserved better.
“Hey…are you okay?” Grant settled a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she realized a long moment had passed since she’d agreed to leave.
Dating did not get easier when you got older. If anything, it got more complicated. She took a deep breath and turned. She didn’t want to disappoint him, to hurt him. She liked him. Enjoyed his company, his conversation, his laugh.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I can’t do this.”
“If you’re not ready, we don’t have to. I understand,” he said.
He didn’t understand. She would not be ready, ever. Not with him. But the words to mark paid to their fledgling relationship refused to leave her lips. Why did he have to be so nice? Attractive. Sexy. Damn him!
“Why don’t we go have some tea and dessert?” he suggested.
“All right,” she agreed, because she couldn’t bring herself to ask him to take her home.
She slipped out of his sports coat and felt an instant loss of warmth. “Thank you.” She returned it, giving back more than his jacket.
“Are you sure? It’s still chilly in here.”
The only thing she was sure about was how confused she was. “I’m good. Thank you.”
Grant shrugged into his jacket, and they exited the gallery. Misery thickened Liz’s throat, but she held her head high as they strolled down the corridor. They avoided the crowded elevator for the empty stairwell. Liz started to descend the steps, but Grant stopped her on the landing. He lightly gripped her upper arms.
“Listen,” he said. “I’m attracted to you, and I want to sleep with you. But it has to be right. You were married a long time, and this is a big step. We’ll take it at your pace. I’m sorry if I came on too strong.”
He brushed his thumb over her face, and Liz realized she was crying. Her face heated with mortification.
“Hey….” He wrapped his arms around her in a hug, and she hid her face against his neck. He chuckled, a sound of such tenderness, Liz cried harder. “Sweetheart?” Grant rocked her. “Tell me why you’re so upset.”
Because she wanted to sleep with him, but she needed him to spank her. Because her emotions were stronger than she’d thought. She craved discipline, but she desired it from him. Grant had wrapped himself around her heart the way his arms fit so snuggly around her shoulders. “B-because…I don’t know. Because I’m crazy.”
“I like crazy women.”
“Nobody likes crazy women.”
“I like you.”
“Then you’re crazy.”
“See? We’re perfect for each other.”
She smiled through her tears. A measure of heartache receded, but confusion still reigned. “I’m a basket case.”
“I like baskets.”
Laughter snorted out her nose. She thumped his chest with her fist. “You’re too nice to me.” You don’t make it easy.
Or maybe she complicated the situation. She and Grant had connected. Perhaps she should get out of her own way and let nature run its course. Stop analyzing and go with the flow. Counselor, counsel thyself. Many friends had sought her advice, used her as a sounding board to work through relationship woes. She could read people and had an instinct for who would be good together. How many couples had she matched up over the years? Dozens, probably. But her life was a mess. A turmoil of conflicted emotion.
Fix me a spanking, won’t you, darling?
Some people drank to calm their nerves. Others exercised or meditated. She’d been spanked. So many times, after a grueling day at work, Otis had taken one glance at her and taken her in hand.
Spank me, Grant.
“Can I reconsider?” she asked.
“Reconsider?” he raised his eyebrows.
“I’d like to sleep with you. Tonight,” she said.
“You don’t have to do that. I can wait,” he said, but a lopsided, hopeful smile slid across his face.
She shook her head. “I don’t want to wait.”
As if he feared she might change her mind again, he hustled her down the stairs.

Reasonable Doubts Blurb
Widow Liz Davenport assumes when she begins to date, her new man will be like her late husband--a member of the Rod and Cane Society and an experienced disciplinarian who can provide her with loving guidance she requires to feel grounded and secure. So why is she attracted to Grant Davis, an ex-Naval JAG officer who works for her nemesis and has never spanked a woman in his life?
Events in his recent past have forced Grant to take stock of his life and try some new things. But spank a woman? He’s never considered that before, but with Liz’s coaching he’s willing to try.
But when the past collides with the present, will he be able to step up and become the disciplinarian Liz needs?

Prizes, Prizes!

How would you like to become card-carrying member of the Rod and Cane Society? To receive a membership card, leave a comment for Cara about Reasonable Doubts or this blog AND your email address in the body of your comment. Cara will contact you to arrange to send you a membership card. This is not a drawing. Everyone who posts a comment with an email address can receive a card—as long as supplies last. In addition, by commenting on this blog and leaving an email address, you’ll be entered into a drawing for Rod and Cane coffee mug. 

Friday, January 9, 2015

2015 The Year of the Spank!

You read that right- I am declaring 2015 the Year of the Spank. And I know what you're thinking I write books with spanking, I blog about spanking, and if we had an email hack you would see my emails where I mail about spanking. So isn't every year the Year of the Spank??

One would think, but it was a long road to get here. 

I've talked about it before- how I have been into spanking and fantasized about it since about forever. And my husband, my sweet, lovable, unassuming husband had this thrust upon him one day. 

I won't go into the whole evolution- but some of you may know when you have a relationship that is one part spanko and one part non-spanko (for lack of a better term) then things evolve. There is a give and take. There is talking. Sometimes there isn't enough talking. Things take time. Concessions are made. Points are explained. Experiences are shared.

The point is, the actual spankings have evolved. He used to smack me a few times and then get on with the sex. We had many, many, many talks where I had to assure him I would not break- he was not really hurting me- there would be no lasting damage. It felt like it took forever. There was a long period of time where I would endure any kind of spanking completely silent because it seemed if I made any noise, of pleasure or surprise or god forbid discomfort- it just ended. I didn't want to discourage anything, so I would just bite my lip and take whatever he gave.

Finally, we got to a point where a spanking might even go on longer than I wanted it. Or it hurt just a bit more than I thought it would. I started to wiggle, yell out "Ow" at especially hard smacks and make jokes with him that I would have never brought the whole thing up if I knew I was married to a man that could make his hand feel like a goddamned paddle if he wanted to. His response was a smile and an assurance, "Oh, I can hit much harder than that."

All of this built up over this past year. The spankings have become longer, more frequent, and harder. Much more of what I crave and as I have been explaining, more of what I need. I just need a spanking sometimes. It does help that I can be open and ask for it. It's a good place we have gotten to.

2014 was a good year and I feel like we made a lot of progress as a couple. Not that we needed any work relationship-wise but there you go- we progressed. Personally, professionally (we started a business!), sexually, and spankfully (it's a word, right?).

The year ended (and the New Year started) with less of a bang and more of a *crack*.

Our tradition from many moons ago is to stay in on NYE, watch silly movies, eat horrible (and delicious) snacks, and drink. We used to do it with friends, but now we are all old and married so we stay at our respective houses. Out NYE night has also turned into some kinky play as well as all the other things. So this year I slipped on the lingerie I had put in Mr. McKay's stocking for Christmas (which I love and declared I want to live in it and wear it every night to bed!)

We had some drinks and got a little frisky on the couch. He pulled me down across his lap (hooray! A spanking I don't have to ask for) and he starts spanking me. Hard. I mean really hard. I start to wiggle and he pauses, stroking his hand over my heated flesh. I relax and lay my head back down on the cushion, my eyes drifting close at his soft touch when he starts up again. Now I can't hold it in, I am emitting squeals and I kick my foot up a few times effectively getting in the way of his spanking hand. I wrap my arms around the couch cushion in an effort to keep my hands out of the way and smush my face into it as I try to get a handle on myself, I want this, I keep reminding myself. But oh my god, why??

He stops again, chuckling at my antics as I buck and writhe across his lap. "Just tell me when you want me to stop." I'm elated, the man listens, he really does (well, sometimes at least)- I may have mentioned once or a dozen times that he has a tendency to stop a spanking before I am really ready for it to end. But wait, now he is telling me I have to stop it?

I moan into the cushion and let out a pitiful whimper.

"What?" he asks, real concern lacing his voice.

I look back at him over my shoulder, "I'm never going to tell you to stop!" I drop my head back down as if this is the biggest dilemma ever. 

Now he lets out a real laugh, "Oh, my crazy girl," he says as he strokes my pulsating backside before winding up and giving me four more hard smacks that have me calling out with each one.

I was in ecstasy. That is the only way I can explain it. There are many times I have fantasized about the perfect night with my husband and I have to say our New Year's Eve celebration was damn near perfect. 

I'm not even getting to the part about the vibrating butt plug... OMG! That's a whole other post to get to. I will be writing a full review, so stay tuned for that. 

At the actual stroke of midnight I was snuggled under a blanket on the couch wearing a washed out t-shirt and thread bare yoga pants, burning my mouth on the homemade pizza we popped in the oven (because apparently I can learn to ask for what I want but I can't learn to blow on hot foods before putting them in my gob), and thinking about what an absolutely awesome 2015 we are in store for.

Welcome, folks, to the Year of the Spank!

Sunday, January 4, 2015

The Things I Learned This Month

I hope everyone had a happy New Year! I can barely believe it's 2015, I feel like I just got used to 2014.

I tried to keep a semblance of a list during the month of December of things I learned. Looking it over today I am laughing to see that I talk about tea and cats. You'd probably never guess I was a writer! (Well, I'm not talking about whiskey or fonts, so I guess I could be any regular person.)

Here is the grand list I compiled of Things I Learned in December:

1. You do not boil water to make green tea. 

I hope there is at least a handful of you that are as marveled by that fact as I am. The rest of you are all, "Oh, Casey, you uncultured swine." But really, I had no idea you prepared different teas differently. I thought you just boiled water for all of them and then steeped the tea and boom, you're done.  But my friend- she of The Bee's Teas- stopped by and of course we were making tea together. Okay we were making spiked teas with hot tea and liquor, because that's what you do around the holidays, and she pretty much looked at me like the uncultured swine that I am, and then shook her head and told me it would be okay- she would school me on the ways of the tea. (If you buy her tea she has easy brewing instructions included on all the pouches- it must be because she is friends with people like me.)

2. Being an adult is hard.

I mean, no one said it would be easy. And I guess technically I've been an adult since I was 18 so... 14 years now (side note- math is hard)? But I have just recently decided that I should be acting more adult-like in my day to day life. This started with organizing the overflow of clothes and clutter in our bedroom. This ended with our basement stairs separating from the wall as we carried large totes of clothes down them. I guess I could blame the original construction of the house we live in- the handyman said the stairs were never secured into the wall the correct way- but one could see how I could easily construe this as a direct result from trying to be an adult. For the record, I have not let it stop me, but if my salad spinner spontaneously combusts due to the higher usage as of late then I am going back to my juvenile ways...

3. Cats can get laryngitis.

What? Crazy, right? I would have thought this a completely bizarre fact if it hadn't have happened to one of my very own cats. My needy little orange cat who likes to let his presence be known by constantly chattering and crying at us came down with a hoarse cry. It was adorable as much as it was heartbreaking and both Mr. McKay and I freaked out a tiny bit (a shout out to my sweet, author facebook friends with all of their advice after I posted about my problem- special shout out to Ms. PK Corey who messaged me with some Veterinary advice). Just when we thought we would have to take him to the Vet his voice restored and he is annoying us at full volume now. I kind of miss the squeaky little raspy cry from before.

4. I am more of an air head than I originally thought.

The truth is, I don't reside on this planet often. My mind often wanders. One would think the writing would help, I have an outlet. But I think it's actually made it worse because now I feel justified in my checked out-ness. Sometimes I'll think about doing something: the laundry, cleaning the bathroom, putting on deodorant- and I can't remember later on if I actually did it, or just thought about doing it. Seems I did this with my eye doctor this year. You see, I got the little postcard in the mail reminding me to make an appointment. And I must have, right? But then I ran out of contacts (which I also didn't realize I had used the last pair and thrown the box away until I was ready to change them) when I called my eye doc they said the prescription had expired because I hadn't been in since 2013! How did that happen? 

5. We are on the Holiday card B-list.

A weird thing happened this year. We got an amazingly tiny amount of Christmas cards. Actually I just counted, we got eleven. The year after we got married I feel like we got a zillion. I am guessing everyone had our address on hand from the thank you notes I sent out. And that year I sent a card back to every single person that sent me one- it was a little overwhelming. The year after we got a little less and I scaled back my list some. But I want to say in the last 2-3 years I have sent out about 35 cards to friends and family. And really, I am not complaining- I don't do it just to get a card back. I really am sending them to people I want to wish a Merry Christmas to but don't get a chance to see in person. But are people just sending out less cards in general? Am I doing something so passe and untrendy that people get my "Cat Sitting Under a Tree of Twinkle Lights" card and they just pitch it in the trash? As I look at my display of received cards lots of people's smiling children look back at me. Maybe no one wants a card from me because I don't have smiling babies to stick on it? Well, whatever the reason I am still sending out my 35 highly untrendy cards out again next year, maybe I'll even add to it. I'll find 4 or 5 more saps to torture with my holiday delight!

Thanks for reading my rag tag list of things I learned this month. Did you learn anything this month that you can't believe you went your whole life not knowing?