Sebastian is a man who knows his way around a sausage. The recipe for his Jamaican Sausage is at the foot of this page.
I was quite shocked this morning when Sebastian appeared in my kitchen with his sausage in his hand. Sebastian, as you doubtless know, is my personal trainer.
“That thing’s enormous,” I said, as he held it out in front of me.
“I know,” he replied with a cheeky smile. “It’s Jamaican.”
Sebastian loves to make sausages and really is most adept in the kitchen. He’s always coming up with new recipes.
“What particularly makes it Jamaican,” I asked. as I turned on the grill.
“Mostly it’s the spices, but I also add a little pineapple and orange. It gives it a citrus lift.”
“That sounds delightful,” I gushed as the sausage began to sizzle and dribble a little fat under the grill. the aroma that filled my kitchen was delightful. It would only be a matter of time before Marjory and Amanda appeared from next door, in all likelihood. As you probably know it’s soon going to be the start of the competitive eating season, at which point Marjory becomes far more active.
But that’s another story.
Fiona
SEBASTIAN’S JAMAICA SAUSAGE RECIPE:
Jamaica Pork Sausage (should yield 20 sausages at six inches long)
4 lbs pork shoulder diced
1 lb fat back diced
5 Tbs Jamaican Jerk Seasonings
2 Oranges chopped
Half a ripe pineapple chopped
40 gr coarse sea salt
About 10 feet of hog casings
1 C ice water
Combine and mix the diced pork, fat, fruit and spices. Chill until ready to grind or set in refrigerator and chill overnight.
Run water through the casings and let soak in a small bowl of water for 30 minutes or until you’re ready to stuff them.
Using the medium holed grind plate in the mincer grind the seasoned pork and fat into a mixing bowl set in ice. I love to listen to Erasure as I do this. It just gets me in a good grinding mood.
When done grinding your meat (Ed. Phrasing), add the water and mix until it is absorbed and the pork gets “sticky.” If using a stand mixer it will take about 1 minute with the paddle attachment.
Make a small patty and cook to check the seasonings.
Note: If you have extra you can make an amazing burger from this.
Stuffing your tube (Ed. Phrasing):
Stretch and push the hog casing onto the stuffer tube attachment, leaving an inch or two hanging off the end of the tube.
Stuff the sausage keeping one hand on the end of the tube where the casing is getting stuffed and help it along if it gets stuck.
Twist the sausage into 5-6 inch links.
Enjoy with a good quality British Columbian gewurztraminer white wine such as Persius – https://perseuswinery.com/
You can enjoy some wonderful wines from Persius. They’re fun, young and easy to match to some great summer meals. Give them a good go.
It’s up to us to live to a higher standard than others.
With Sebastian strutting around in his cycling shorts, and Auntie Kittie coming over to offer me some of her specially imported organic coconut sunblock, anyone would think that going outside in this glorious weather is some sort of sin. However, it is important to look after ourselves in this extraordinary heat.
It is more important than ever to moisturize – personally I like a nice aloe based moisturizer – and also to drink plenty of water. Adding to this a good quality sunblock is a wonderful idea. I have started working early in the day and having a break by the time the day is hot, then going back to my endless labours in the early evening when the day is cooler. It’s a slightly different regime, but one I learned while living in the hottest parts of Africa. There is no point getting over heated and having headaches and the misery of sunstroke.
This stunning weather does give us the opportunity to wear some suitable clothes that are perfect for the twenty-first century crossdresser. Swimshorts, a tee shirt and a pair of sandals. Add lipstick and a little eye makeup and you’re there. You may not quite be Daisy Duke, but that is all a bit 1970’s anyway. I’m not sure Daisy would quite work today, sliding across the bonnet of an electric vehicle and roaring off down a country road listening to Taylor Swift. Nor can I see Sheriff Roscoe taking gender sensitivity training and a course in critical race theory.
I was discussing this with Sylvester this very morning. I explained how today we are all more ‘woke’.
“It’s all those energy drinks,” he replied.
“What?” I answered feeling like one of us was losing their grip.
“The caffeine.”
“Oh, no,” I said. “We’re more ‘woke’, not more ‘awake’. Besides I don’t even touch those things. They’re bad for you.”
“I don’t get all this ‘woke’ stuff,” grumbled Sylvester.
“As far as I can make out, it means we’re more aware of racial issues. And gender ones. And age ones. And some other things.”
“You mean we’re more considerate?”
“I guess,” I replied.
“That reminds me, there was something I wanted to talk to you about,” went on Sylvester.
“Go ahead,” I replied, ever my helpful self.
“Have you ever been hit on by someone in authority? I mean, I know you’re…”
“Yes,” I replied expectantly.
“You’re not like some other people,” said Sylvester awkwardly.
“You mean I have tits, wear lipstick and have a dick? Yes. I am slightly different, but that’s no one’s business but my own,” I replied enjoying Sylvester’s discomfort.
“Well, I know this is a difficult subject, but…” continued Sylvester squirming.
“Sylvester, this is me. You can talk to me about anything.”
“I wondered if you’d ever been hit on by anyone who was your boss, or something like that.”
I must admit I was intrigued by Sylvester’s line of questioning.
“Well, there’s been one or two incidents. I’m pretty abrasive with people that I get a confrontational vibe from, though.”
“It’s just my brothers teenage daughter got hit on by her boss at the store she works at,” I wondered what you thought about it.
I was a little surprised, mostly that any employer could be so stupid.
“It’s a horrible fact, and one that many men don’t understand, but as I understand it many women do get unwanted attention at work. We sort of assume it doesn’t happen, but it does. Actually, it happens all the time. Now, having said that, most young women do learn to deal with it. I know it’s wrong that it would be that way, but many women just deal with it. However, my best advice is to get her a good lawyer, and then have her choose a nice Caribbean island to go and visit with the settlement that is likely to follow.”
“I was shocked,” said Sylvester. “It was all so ‘low level’.”
“What do you mean,” I asked.
“Well, he just approached her and asked if she’d go for a drink,” said Sylvester.
“Unfortunately that’s often the way these things do look. Somewhat harmless and low key. But then, when it’s time for her review she’ll find that the colleague that went out for that drink does a little better than she did. It’s horrible, and it’s insidious,” I said and paused. “It’s a weird thing. It’s easy to see abuse when it’s obvious. When it’s subtle it’s more difficult. And you know what? As a person who has lived much of their life ‘in trousers’ it has never happened to me, at least not as a teenager. So I can never say I’ve lived through that kind of subtle abuse.”
“But that’s good, isn’t it?” countered Sylvester.
“Well, I’m glad I’ve not been bullied like that, however subtle it may have been. But to be honest, I can’t say I’ve lived the ‘female life’ in that sense. I think this is a difficult area for many people who identify as female. The fact is I’ve been fortunate enough to have many advantages of being male. Having said that, it didn’t feel that way when I got a beating or two for being too girly for some people. My journey has different struggles. But I sympathise and I see how unfair it is on young women.”
“And this happens a lot?”
“It happens all the time, which is why we have to be so supportive of young women who are taken advantage of. I’m fortunate enough to work at an agency where even a hint of such behaviour would have the senior person fired and escorted out of the building before their feet touched the ground. People who act like that are a liability to the company, as well as being bullies.”
“Well, it doesn’t happen in my business,” said Sylvester a little defensively.
“I should hope not,” I replied. It’s worth noting that Sylvester runs a workshop servicing vehicles and has a fairly mixed group of employees.
“And it never happened to you?” he continued.
“Oh gosh, no,” I sighed. “I thought it might when I was at summer camp once, but the camp counsellor found out I was trans and then wasn’t interested.”
“Huh,” said Sylvester with a puzzled look on his face. “I’m not quite sure what to make of that.”
“Yes,” I replied. “That’s what he said.”
Stay hydrated and enjoy the sun, and remember, it’s not just the climate that’s changing.
Sitting at my kitchen table Sylvester stared at the container of powder supplement before him.
“It says here, it’s ‘Protein Supplement For Men’.”
“Well, keep it away from me,” I replied. “There’s so much estrogen coursing through my body at this point I don’t think it’s going to do me much good.”
“I’m supposed to mix it with milk and add a banana for a nourishing drink. That’s what the packaging says,” continued Sylvester.
It’s so refreshing to see him taking his health seriously. I sincerely believe we should invest in ourselves with a healthy diet, as you likely know.
“Just put it in the blender with some milk, then,” I said handing him a banana from the fruit bowl.
I got up and left the kitchen to slip into my yoga clothes as I knew Sebastian would be arriving shortly to help me with my yoga practice. I do so like to start the day with a stretch. I laid a mat down in the living room and put on a little calming music, lit a couple of candles and some incense before going up to change.
When I returned to the kitchen there was Sylvester drinking a large glass of his fresh smoothy. I glanced at the table, and noticed he had used 10% creamer milk, rather than the 2% milk I generally drink.
“How’s that taste, Sylvester,” I asked.
“Oh, it’s good,” he replied.
“You might want to use the 2% milk next time,” I suggested. “That’s practically straight cholesterol you’re drinking.”
Sylvester looked at the milk carton and frowned.
“Tastes good, though,” he said.
At that point the doorbell rang, and Sebastian arrived.
“Is Sylvester joining us for yoga this morning,” asked Sebastian as he put his gym bag down.
“Oh, I don’t think so. He’s too busy drinking his creamy man protein,” I said.
Sebastian glanced dubiously at Sylvester.
“Really,” he said. “I didn’t know he was into that sort of thing.”
However, that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you today. Jules has just put out a very good piece on Youtube which you might enjoy. There’s some excellent Youtubers on the slate this week. I’d like to draw attention to pieces by Andy in Warsaw, Leah Passaniti and Lily Alexandre. Use these hotlinks to listen to some great content.
These can keep you informed and supported. There’s some really great stuff there. I enjoy listening to these pieces and find I can stay reasonably well informed if I do. Have a listen and see what you think. In these times of such upheaval it’s quite important to stay informed and connected to sources of good information. Just in case you’re not aware of it, the hotlinks in my posts usually take you somewhere pretty interesting. 🙂
As you may know, my personal trainer, Sebastian, has a delightful sister named Rainbow. The west coast has many people named by well intentioned hippy parents, that have grown up to be very unlike their free wheeling parents.
While Rainbow is decidedly whimsical and likely in line with what her parents expected, not all my acquaintances are so well named. For example, Rainbow is a yoga teacher and perfectly qualified, being both gluten free and lactose intolerant. However, another friend of mine was blessed with the name ‘Swallow’ by her parents. If the swallow really is the bird of love, then one would hardly expect a corrections officer working in a high security prison to carry such a name and yet that is indeed where she has had a quite successful career.
A healthy diet is essential for a great crossdressing look.
As the new year rolls into action I have been working with
Sebastian, my personal trainer, to tone and shape my body. He is a very helpful
young man, I must say.
I am determined that this year I will eat more healthily and reduce my carbon footprint in 2025. Perhaps a few less flights, and a few more vegetables are in order. Don’t you think it is important to enjoy a healthy amount of fresh fruit in your diet?
Last night it was a delightful surprise to be invited to a cocktail party held by a friend of Sebastian’s sister, Rainbow. While Rainbow is a certified carrot crunching yoga hippie, some of her yoga clients are quite unusual people. It was pleasant to be invited to one of their parties at a very exclusive address and I was interested to see how it would work out. After all, it can be exhausting having parties with Sylvester, Ali and Amanda, that often disintegrate into mayhem and occasionally someone being tied up and abandoned naked in a public park at 3 am. I suppose this is what you get for associating with people who need to have their back shaved periodically – and that’s just Amanda. How nice it would be to meet some people of quality.
By the time I had got dressed and ready I must say I really
did look quite spectacular, if a little overdressed. Nonetheless, it’s nice to
go over the top now and then.
Sebastian and I arrived and were shown into the ornate house
and met by Carina (there’s always a Carina), Rainbow’s client. She swept up to
us looking spectacular in her little black cocktail number. She carried a tray loaded down with hors
d’oeuvre.
Sebastian introduced us and our hostess beamed an expensive
smile.
“Would you like a clam? Or perhaps a cocktail sausage?” she
asked. “Oh, and which pronoun do you prefer, he, she or them?”
The tiny woman was almost vibrating with energy. I sensed
she’d been doing a few too many yoga classes. She would likely benefit from a
nice cleansing turkey enema.
I looked at Carina quizzically, trying to decide whether she
was joking, and to see if her choice of hors d’oevre was somehow connected with
the pronouns question. At that moment Rainbow appeared, and gave her brother a
hug.
“Hey,” said Sebastian smiling at her. “You look…”
Sebastian was searching for words.
Carina chimed in cheerfully, “Earthy! That’s what I said!
Rainbow you look so very ‘earthy’. I wish I was so brave,” she added.
Rainbow looked confused and replied, “Brave?”
“Yes, I mean I would never have been so brave as to make my
own clothes. And wear them out,” said Carina. “Fiona, would you like a drink? I
have a couple of special cocktails. Perhaps you’d like the carrot and Kale with
a shot of vodka. Or maybe the Orange and langoustine gin. You should try them.
I invented them myself.”
“Well, I am trying to eat and drink in a healthy way for the
new year. Perhaps the orange and langoustine
gin.” I glanced around the room at the very fashionable set of guests. The
ratio of chins to people was definitely on the low side. “And you’d better make
it a double. But do me a favor and hold the orange.” I paused a moment and then
said, “and the langoustines.”
Sebastian slipped off in search of a proper drink and headed
toward what looked like a bar, followed by Carina.
As she hurried off, Rainbow turned to me looking confused and
said, “Did she just say my clothes are worn out? I think I’ve been insulted,
but I’m not sure.”
“Oh,” I said, “You’ve been insulted. But I wouldn’t worry
about it. Let’s drink the silly cow’s gin and go and get some poutine at The
Junction. They’ve got a show on at 10.”
Sebastian reappeared at that moment and said that Carina’s husband,
Nigel (it had to be), had offered him the most disgusting cocktail he’d ever tasted.
“It’s one part gin, one part coca cola and a teaspoon of
olive oil. He calls it an Exxon Valdez. I had it on the rocks, but it was so
disgusting I spilled it into that aquarium.”
Across the room there was a very expensive looking aquarium
that was looking a little the worse for having an Exxon Valdez poured into it.
Carina returned with our drinks and then went on to
circulate with some of the many other guests.
“I think it’s time to bounce,” I said to Sebastian and
Rainbow. Let’s go somewhere everyone knows our names.
I hope you’re getting the new year off to a wonderful start. If you’ve not already singed up to my Patreon please join me at https://www.patreon.com/fionadobsonCD
Can you imagine, Sylvester, my resident Neanderthal, still has a home phone. Sebastian was curious about this, thinking it an upgrade to a cell phone, being chained to the wall so no one would steal it. I had to explain that this is what people had in their caves before cell phones.
In some ways Sylvester is a throwback to an earlier time. Perhaps this snippet of conversation will help you understand. We were chatting while I was moisturizing and pulling on some yoga pants in preparation of Sebastian coming over to do a yoga class with me this very morning.
“Look at this rain,” he said looking out of my bedroom window. “I want to go to Spain!”
“How lovely! Such a magical country,” I replied as I applied the coconut oil to my face.
“Where’s the best travel agent?” he asked.
“Do we still have those,” I said.
“There must be one somewhere,” he insisted.
“Perhaps you should look online,” I suggested. “I think there’s one in the main street though, just beside the dog groomers, which reminds me, I should get Hannibal’s toes done.”
“The place next to the Korean take away?” he chimed in.
“Yes, the other side of that new spa place. You know, the one with the fish that chew your feet. I don’t really get that whole thing myself, but apparently it’s good.”
“I know the place,” said Sylvester. “By the sushi restaurant.”
Conversations with Sylvester are never simple.
“Why particularly do you want to go to Spain,” I asked.
“Oh, they have this amazing event in Pamplona in July. They have all these bulls and they let them out in the street,” he said. “Lots of people take part.”
“I think I’ve heard of it,” I cut in.
“Yes, I’ve always wanted to participate in the catching of the bulls,” said Sylvester.
I thought I’d better end the conversation there. Sebastian was just arriving. I pulled on a loose fitting tee shirt and told Sylvester to run along while I let Sebastian stretch me.
As you may know I am transitioning more of my content onto Patreon. If you feel like supporting me as we move toward Christmas you can do so for as little as $1 a month by using ‘my back door’ on Patreon.
“This knob is very stiff,” I said to Sylvester, as I relaxed in the seat.
Oh, I should explain, he’s been installing a new sound system in my car.
“I can loosen it a little,” said Sylvester, “but you don’t want it so loose that someone ends up jerking it off. You wouldn’t want that.”
“Speak for yourself,” I replied.
However, that’s not the reason I’m writing to you. Mildred, from Colorado Springs writes:
“Fiona, I’d like to be reminded of you every morning when I have my first cup of coffee of the day. And I’d also like to discretely show my support for trans people and those of us that are of a gender non-conforming bent. What can you do to help?
Love from Mildred, Colorado Springs.
PS. Why do I get so much mail that starts out “Dear Sir or Madam’? Is there something I should know?”
OK. One thing at a time.
Yes, of course I have something to help you first thing in the morning. And a discrete way to show your support to all our members and friends. I was in a conversation with Sebastian about this just yesterday. I can see him in my minds eye right now, sitting on my right hand after we’d finished yoga, while I enjoyed a soothing cup of Earl Grey Tea.
“Those nice boys and girls at Patreon can help you. They can make a cup and give it to any member who joins as a Unicorn and stays on for three months,” he told me while pulling his yoga pants back on.
“That’s a curiously random piece of information to have,” I replied.
It’s true, though. If you join my Patreon as a Unicorn after three months you will receive this lovely mug, complete with the image here. This will be recognizable to anyone interested in gender issues, though won’t really mean much to anyone else. I’m told it’s really a good idea. It is also a great conversation starter.
Keep in in this is my first venture into the world of ‘Merch’. It all sounds so very sordid. Anyway, Max will oversee the tech side of it. He’s recovered from the last flogging he had. I think that was for something to do with us being kicked off Tumblr. Again! Either way I will see it’s done well.
So, pound my button as hard as you can and sign up as a Unicorn Member and in three months you’ll get a cool cup to help you enjoy me every morning. Wait. That’s not what I meant.
I was talking to Sylvester this very morning. He said to me, “How is it that anyone who was alive in the eighties and nineties- people who listened to our music – could possibly vote for that stinking pile of orange crap?”
“I assume you are talking about Mr. Trump,” I said. “And I’ll thank you not to use that language in my kitchen.”
“Really, though!” He said. “How can this election be this close? People who lived through Boy George, The Thompson Twins and David Bowie… How can they betray the things we all believed in?”
“Sylvester, calm down,” I suggested. “In any given population you are going to get a certain number of people who are either misinformed, selfish or monumentally stupid. People who don’t understand how to use Google to check facts. They’re what we call in Canada, ‘Morons’. We will see exactly how many there are in the US in a few days.”
“You can usually tell them apart from normal people,” I continued. “They refuse to consider any opinion but their own, often buy into ideas that keep them at the bottom of the social pile, and are too uneducated to realise that what they think is commitment is actually ignorance. They fear women, they fear immigrants and they fear people who don’t subscribe to their brand of idiocy. They also often think that their gun is a solution.”
As you likely know Pig And Pig Farmer was one of the first publications to endorse Donald Trump in 2016. Even Amanda, who edits this venerable publication has refused to endorse the foul pile of orange crap this year.
She just can’t bring herself to vote for a person who sexually abuses women, pushing policies that will damage so many people, and only enrich the wealthy few. While Trans healthcare is not her foremost concern, as a mother she can’t in good conscience vote for a person who is denying so many women the right to autonomy over their body. She knows that if one of her daughters needs an abortion, she doesn’t want to have to argue the point with a politician or a law enforcement officer.
“Amanda,” I said as we chatted on the phone while I organised a few things in my office, “most of the things they blame on Biden are nothing to do with him. I assure you this isn’t the first time the middle east has had a war, and while they blame Biden for the immigration situation, I guarantee you that’s something that’s been developing over decades. They’ll take these issues and try and manipulate you into thinking they’re all the fault of the person in power. As for that Afghanistan mess, Trump created the whole thing by being an inexperienced and naïve commander in chief. The truth is, neither of them are great, but Trump comes with a whole fascist agenda – and that’s what our parents fought a war to overcome.”
I then had to ring off as I told her I had to assign a few jobs to the team her and hand jobs out in the board room. I really do think her hearing is going.
“Hand jobs out in the boardroom?” she replied.
“Don’t worry, Amanda,” I said. “Things will work out if everyone keeps their heads.”
Sebastian stopped by during the morning, too. As you know, his sister is named Rainbow. What you might not know is that she’s named after the Greenpeace ship, Rainbow Warrior. As you can imagine she was raised with values around the environment that are dear to my own heart. Here in beautiful British Columbia we live by the words, leave only footprints behind. To be fair, my footprints are usually with a very pronounced four inch heel – but looking after the environment is very dear to my heart. It’s a small thing, but I don’t want my children living on a burned out cinder of a planet. And talk of ‘drill baby, drill’ turns my stomach. If you can imagine a dinosaur looking up at the sky and saying, ‘Gee, isn’t that a great looking asteroid heading our way! Let’s try and get a closer look!’, then you can imagine the way I feel about pushing carbon fuels further than absolutely necessary.
Personally, it’s the trans persecution that is the hardest of many lines that have been crossed. I know of many trans people who are feeling frightened by the possibility of losing health care. If he gets in, that’s practically guaranteed to end. Any thought that RFK has any knowledge or understanding of modern healthcare is beyond comprehension. That Trump would give that antivaxxer any say in health matters defies understanding – yet no more so than injecting bleach to overcome Covid.
Only someone who fails to understand how tariffs work could ever suggest the idea of bringing in tariffs in a country that imports so many of its consumer goods. The tariffs will come straight out of American pockets and trigger one of the worst recessions the US has ever seen.
And let’s be honest here. He’s going to be dead long before his mess gets cleaned up. He’s an old crock who is making his last play before he dies a lonely failed little man. Most people stupid enough to vote for that will have to live with the results longer than he will. Unfortunately, if he gets in, so will the rest of the US. For those of us who are trans, the consequences will be far reaching. Fortunately, Canada will always provide a home to people persecuted in their home countries.
As for making America great again, if Trump is elected the US will become the laughing stock of the world. Except that if you’re trans, it’s not going to be very funny. Anyone voting for Trump is no friend of the Transgender movement, and they’re no friend of mine.
Many of us are worried. Of course, it’s a worrying time. However, we will get through this. I’m online much of the time over the next few days. Visit the website if you need to, and look for the chat system if you need to talk. I will make m yself as available as I can. We’re going to be ok.
Have a voting plan, take a friend and bring whatever you need in case you need to wait in line. Make it count.
Sebastian was almost gagging.“That’s it,” I said. “Take it all in…”
“I can’t,” he stammered, resisting.
“You’re going to swallow, all of it,” I insisted. “Open wide.”
Let me explain, Sebastian has been suffering from a bit of a cold lately and is having trouble getting over it. I decided a nice Kale-Ginger smoothie would give him a little help.
Sebastian doesn’t like either kale or ginger. As he reluctantly gulped it down, I told him what a good boy he was.
“Shall I get you a towel?” I asked noticing a little of the creamy liquid on his chin.
As you know, I am very mindful of the health of my friends. However, that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you today. Today I wanted to draw your attention to something I found interesting and feel sure you’ll share my enthusiasm for.
When we dress, feminine or otherwise, we are saying a great deal about who we are. Our entire presentation to the world is reflected in our clothing. The way we offer ourselves to the world has a huge impact on how accepting the world is of us, as crossdressers or simply individuals. In the talk below Jen Rozenbaum explores some of these ideas, and talks about boudoir photography.
Some of her tips are very interesting, especially if you’re creating great CD pics for your profile online. One of her points is about how, as a photographer she finds ways to bring out the positive aspects of her subjects. There’s a lot to be said for the idea that whatever we choose to wear, we can bring out the very best side of ourselves by presenting ourselves in a positive and empowered way.
I would suggest we can take this a step further. For example, if you feel you’re a different person to the one you were three years ago, then why are you wearing the same clothes? Why are you not presenting yourself to your world (CD or otherwise) in a new more developed manner?
While I wouldn’t suggest we should trash all our clothes every year, there’s a lot to be said for the idea of giving serious consideration to the way we present ourselves as we grow and discover ourselves. Personally, I know I dress with more confidence today than when I first guiltily played with my cousin’s panties.
So, here’s a fun thing to do this weekend. Take a look at your wardrobe (femme or otherwise) and select a few things that no longer reflect who you are and toss them out. Refining your wardrobe is liberating and leaves space for some new expressions of who you are becoming.
Fiona
Boudoir Photography and Being Shamelessly Feminine | Jen Rozenbaum |
Just imagine, a crossdressing ghost story for Halloween. Yes, it’s coming – in three parts. It will be published on http://FionaDobson.com on the evenings of 29, 30th, and 31st of October.Halloween is a great time for crossdressers. The night when the dead walk the earth seems an odd thing to celebrate, but any excuse to get out in heels works for me! Enjoy the three part series and be sure to watch out for it at FionaDobson.Com.
Need costume supplies for Halloween? Try checking out my shopping list and looking at some of the great online deals there.
Sylvester came into my kitchen this morning with a smug look on his face and asked me, “Is your refrigerator running?”
I sighed and thought to myself, ‘ok, Sylvester’s learned a joke. I better let him do it.’
“I believe it is,” I said glancing at the fridge in an exaggerated manner.
“Good, because if it is, I’ll vote for it,” Sylvester then collapsed in a quivering mass of his own laughter. I sipped my coffee patiently until this display of idiocy was over.
“What is this, a Democratic Party ‘in joke’?” I asked.
Sylvester was still quivering. It was unusual to see Sylvester laughing at a joke that didn’t involve panties, coming in the back way or pulling someone’s finger. You know, Sylvester really can be quite coarse at times. Is there a small chance he could be evolving from his Neanderthal roots?
But that’s not the main reason I am writing today, and don’t worry, it’s not going to be an email soaked in political hyperbole. I know some of my members don’t like that. So instead, being Canadian, I thought I’d tell you a quick hockey story. Yeah. That’s more fun. And I have to say, I do like going down to the hockey rink and watching local teams play. I have even supported the local team by volunteering and helping them with the electric scoreboard. I love to go down there and score with the boys. I like to help out the girls too, of course. I always keep my hand in.
But, you’re diverting me from the main thrust of the story today. We have this player who has been the main scorer of the local team. He’s very talented but he’s been having some issues lately. And in a couple of weeks we have a critical game against another very good team. They’re not professional but I know at least one player on their team is exceptional and used to play at a very high level, so we need to be very organised.
Sebastian, who is a very sound strategist, surprisingly for a kombucha drinking yogi, understands.
“Joe is just too old. He’s got arthritis in his knees. And he keeps forgetting to show up for practice,” said Sebastian, while adjusting my downward dog yoga position from behind. “And if we lose this game we’ll be out of the league. It took us at least four years to get back in last time we were relegated.”
“I can see the problem,” I said, easing into the pose.
“I don’t think there’s any choice,” he went on. “We just need to substitute him out for someone better than we had before. Better, stronger, faster.”
“Do we have that technology?” I said.
“We have the technology,” replied Sebastian, very seriously.
“It’s so obvious,” I agreed. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
Sebastian can be unusually wise. His views have adjusted my own from time to time and I find his insights penetrate deeply at both an intellectual and physical level. Anyway, I thought I should share that non-political update with you.
Have a lovely week. Be sure to sign up as a good gurl this week if you haven’t already, as Auntie Kittie is keen for me to suggest a few more sissies come her way. Those were her words, not mine.
This morning, just as I was emerging from my morning yoga session, I was surprised to see Max (my neighbour’s son), huffing and puffing and coming in my rear entrance, a bundle of excited youthful anticipation. He was hurrying up the garden path, as I pulled up my yoga pants, and adjusted my hair.
Sebastian, my personal trainer, was as surprised as I was myself. He likes to come early to stretch me, as I’m sure my regular members are aware.
“Fiona,” said Max, bursting into my kitchen. “Can I take a look at your beaver?”
As you probably know, today is Canada Day. It’s a tradition in Huckleberry Close, to come over to my house on Canada Day, and look at my beaver – a beautiful piece of taxidermy – the centrepiece of the Canada Day party I always throw on the Canada Day Weekend, to celebrate us throwing off the shackles of oppressive colonialism before Canada declared itself free of tyrannical rule from London. Actually, that’s not really true. We just all sort of agreed that we’d have a new flag and continue to be the friends we’ve always been. No one was being either tyrannical or oppressive, but it’s a good excuse for a party. And the centre piece of the party is my beaver, a stuffed animal that has become something of a mascot over the years. It’s traditional for us to enjoy some lovely Canadian Wines, from British Columbia (a place that is neither British nor Columbian), swap hockey stories and talk about Zamboni’s while apologizing to one another. We all eat poutine and make fun of people we love from Newfoundland, and generally act in an understated but quietly superior way, while listening to The Tragically Hip, 54 40, Five Man Electrical Band, Rush and many other great Canadian bands.
I told Max, “Darling, calm down. My beaver is open to everyone, just give me a moment to prepare it! You’ll get your turn. Just don’t get too excited. It’s Canada Day, you’ll have to pace yourself.”
We have so many wonderful traditions in Canada. Being Canadian means so many wonderful things to all the peoples of our country. We love our diversity, our first nations people and our democracy, which we value enough to protect.
If Max gets over excited, of course, it will be over before it’s really started. It can happen to us all. I handed him a pot of maple syrup and suggested he put it out on the garden table while I went down to get the noble beast, and then he could examine my beaver to his hearts content.
This year’s wine of choice is Quill, a distinctive Rose from Vancouver Island, which is quite delightful and goes rather well with the short skirt I’m wearing. It’s light, a little cheeky and subtly stimulating. The wine’s not bad either. I know we’ll be toasting Sylvester, who has decided to commit to a course learning to drive a Zamboni at the local hockey arena. I must get things ready for the party shortly, so this will be a short email.
It may come as a surprise to some of you, but Marjory (my delightful lesbian neighbor) got her hand stuck in my beaver recently while trying to replace some of the stuffing. She was wedged right in there! I know what you’re thinking, what was she of all people doing, jammed up there? Well, she does fancy herself as something of an amateur taxidermist. Strange woman. She’s from Alaska, you know. Eventually we got her hand out, but ever since she’s been acting most strangely. She’s said on more than one occasion that she wishes her hands were a little smaller. I can’t think why! It’s almost as though she’s never heard of lube. I understand it softens the skin nicely and taxidermists swear by it.
I hurried down to the basement and found my beaver, then carried it up to my garden table, already bathed in warm summer sunshine. In the sunlight I could see it has begun to look a little tired. I suppose one can not be surprised. After all, my beaver has been fingered by many over the passing years. And yet, surprisingly it continues to put a contented smile on many of my friends faces. However, I do believe a beaver should be well groomed and well presented. I will speak to my local taxidermist and have him restuff it later this month.
As you are probably aware I lead a strange and varied existence. Since Angelina has returned to Los Angeles, I’ve been very busy and had a houseful of friends today. As luck would have it my personal trainer, Sebastian, brought a friend of his over for my workout, and we opted to do something a little different. She was a delightful little thing and came to teach a yoga class.
This was wonderful, as I’ve recently bought some stunning new leggings, which when worn with a little pink tee shirt combines to make a lovely simple outfit. Misha, the yoga teacher also had cooked a delightful curry, which we enjoyed and then sat about talking for about an hour before laying out a few mats and beginning the class.
Now, I should point out that Sylvester, my mechanic, who had dropped by to help me with some lubrication issues, is something of a stranger to Yoga, but having enjoyed some curry, decided to join our little class. I also had Ali, my Syrian gardener join us. Bernard my photographer, happened to have come round for tea, still recovering from being Tazered and having a heart attack, also joined us. It really was a full house.
Max, my neighbors 19 year old son, who I must say I find spending far too much time goggling at me, also took time to join us. It was quite a lovely group. I have on many occasions lately, noticed how Max has been looking at me. I think he’s given himself one too many selfies lately, if you get my drift. Can’t be good for the eyesight!
Sylvester shifted uneasily as he took up a ‘warrior 2’ pose, and Misha cooed that yoga is all about fluid movements. Bernard glanced at Sylvester, who lurched into another position, and grunted that the curry was taking care of the fluid movements – and quietly slipped off to the bathroom.
Ali was looking off into the far distance, very serenely, enjoying every moment. When Sylvester returned he adopted a pose that resembled a shed in a car park, more than it did a yoga position. That said, his body is very muscular. Almost Neanderthal, actually.
Max, positioned behind me as I adopted a forward fold from the hips, stared with adolescent lust. I couldn’t help thinking of the many handed god Vishnu, and how Max wouldn’t mind being him about now.
We did enjoy the class and as it wrapped up Misha told us all how she loved the yoga lifestyle. She teaches and also has a small business selling soaps and perfumes. She’s a very creative young lady.
“I’ve even released my own fragrance,” she commented.
Looking very uncomfortable with the situation, Sylvester added that he had as well, and hurried to the bathroom once more.
Life really is never dull!
If you have not already signed up for the Premium Program please consider doing so. I have some great exercises and tasks in there for all my gurls. Before you know it you’ll have your ankles behind your ears and be enjoying fluid movements of your own!
I sincerely hope you are enjoying the news I share with you. You can participate and comment even more at http://FionaDobson.com
🙂
It’s been such an active period. And I must say, I’ve been surprised by Sebastian, as he’s been putting me through my paces in my fitness regime. This gives me a great opportunity to dress in some lovely outfits.I do, of course, take a keen interest in sport. I’ve been noticing a lot of talk lately about concussions in sport. It’s high time these types of injuries were addressed, and particularly in ice hockey. Unnecessary violence does nothing to enhance the game. However, I was most surprised when Sebastian came home the other day, having had to stop in at the hospital after a yoga class. Apparently, while helping out at his sisters studio, he’d asked a young lady if she was unwell, as she was sneezing and coughing right through the class. When he told her he was sorry she wasn’t feeling herself, she turned round and punched him.
He does take me with him when he’s climbing some weekends. I generally watch, though sometimes I do like to mess around in caves pot holing with him. This very weekend I’m looking forward to a truly dirty weekend of fun in various holes he’s suggested.
That, however, is not the main reason I’m writing. For those of you enjoying my serial “Clothes Maketh The Man”, I have just released Part 69. Things seem to get less and less comfortable for poor Andy!
Now, I have to hurry off. I have a golf lesson with Sebastian shortly. He’s planning to give me one in the bunker.
Fiona
Maintaining discipline on the pitch can be a point of contention even in school games.
I was very suprised this week when I was visited by Sebastian’s cousin, who is visiting Vancouver, from Trondheim in Norway. Arvid is a little short, bespectacled blonde young man, who is a genetic scientist and researcher.
I am always curious about such technologies and scientific developments. I remember reading a magnificent book some years ago, called The Seven Daughters of Eve, which piqued my interest.
As we chatted, I leaned over and poured Arvid’s tea. I couldn’t help noticing the way his glanced slipped to my chest, and hovered there. Now, as you likely know, I love to crossdress in a low cut sweater, and figure hugging clothes. It did seem that Arvid’s research interests may extend beyond the highly theoretical.
“Oh, Arvid,” I said. “I do love the idea of you delving into my genes. I’d so love to learn a little more about my genetic background.”
Arvid turned a deeper shade of red.
“Besides,” I simpered. “Who knows,” I said as I leaned over and poured a little milk into his tea. “Perhaps there could be a little viking in me!”
However, that’s not the main reason I’m writing today. I did want to tell you more about the wonderful things going on at http://FionaDobson.com. We’ve got some wonderful new members in my Elite Whatsapp Group. Such a great group of members looking to connect and chat.
I should also give a quick mention to my correspondent Mildred, from Colorado Springs. I just want to clarify something, Mildred. No, you do not need a password to operate a wireless bra.
I was trying to explain to Rainbow that she was mistaken about Australia having been annexed by Germany in 1938, when her brother Sebastian arrived to join me before breakfast for a yoga class. I do enjoy the early morning yoga classes. Having a personal trainer so committed to my body is something I feel great gratitude for.
Sebastian is a wonderful trainer. How can I best describe his teaching style? I suppose it’s best to call it ‘deeply penetrative’.
I poured a glass of orange juice for each of us, before we started the class. Now, you may remember that Rainbow is studying to be a therapist. When I had suggested to her that therapy might be a good option for her, I had meant participation, rather than training, but she had grasped the wrong end of the stick, and here we are.
“We’ve been learning about Freud,” she told me. “I’m fascinated by Australia.”
I was confused.
“You know,” she said. “Where the marsupials come from.”
Gradually I realised she’d confused Austria with Australia. I thought I should explain a little about European history and things went down hill from there. When she pointed out that Europeans were so much more cultured than those of us here in North America I took issue with her. That was the point that she started on about how Leonardo was so multitalented, with the whole painting, mathematics and engineering, and making all those films, too! Apparently she loved Titanic.
Rainbow has recently started dating Epiphany. While her heart may have swelled the same can’t be said for her intellect, I fear.
But that’s not the main reason I am writing. As spring rushes in and we prepare for summer I have a fun task for you. It’s thrift store time. Yes, it’s time to go out and scan the thrift stores for something fun to wear. But this time I’d like you to do it a little differently. I’d like you to try and buy something that is fairly androgynous. Feminine, but just safe enough for you to wear around without being obviously crossdressing. Yes, this is part of your gradual move to a more androgynous look. Pastel colors, a little feminine but not so very much that you feel uncomfortable around people you know. Push your boundaries, but not too far.
Have fun out there, and remember, ‘recycle, reuse and reduce’. You’ll be doing your bit to save the planet.
🙂
Fiona
PS. Enjoy the song below. If you’re a member of my Behind The Scenes group you’ll know why this is a special one for me.
High-quality – Women 3/4 Bell Sleeve oversize Blouse Adopts The Classic Slim Fitting T-Shirt Style In Solid Color; This Floral Textured Babydoll Shirts Is Lightweight, Breathable,The Tunic Tops Will Go Well With Most Body Shapes.
The winter months are always fun in an advertising agency. Even more so for myself, as I have several skiing related accounts. It was this that brought me, Bernard my photographer and Sebastian, my personal trainer to the beautiful mountain village of Whistler in Beautiful British Columbia last month.
I found myself here partly to oversee the photography for a ski manufacturer’s latest high end products, and also for a resort client located in the Village. As part of the week’s activity I found myself skiing with a small group of journalists, all eager to test the manufacturers new products.
Before the main days skiing, I had the opportunity to brush up my skills a little with Bernard. There I was, in my tight ski suit, stretching and preparing.
In the comfort of my hotel room, Sebastian helped me refine my style and posture for fast downhill skiing. Sebastian can be very useful on a trip like this. You’d be surprised what he gets up to.
“That’s it,” he said, pressing his hand into the small of my back. “Lean forward and stick your bum out.”
“Now bend your legs, and flatten your back.”
I found the position strangely familiar.
“If you move your hips from side to side,” he said standing behind me, “you’ll find it feel even more fluid.” Sebastian seemed quite breathless.
“Yes,” I gasped feeling my body getting into the exercise. “It’s a very enjoyable sensation,” I said as I moved my body languidly back and forth.
Now, I know you’ll find this hard to believe, but all this stretching and preparation seemed to get Sebastian quite excited. I could swear he poked me in the back with his ski pole!
As it happened I did very well on the slopes. At the end of the week of skiing we had a race down the mountain from the peak, a very exciting informal race. I thought I might be beaten by a number of the boys, but as you might guess, try as they might – and through no small effort on my part – I managed to beat them off and cross the finish line leading by a head.
After that it was up to the hot tub to watch the snow falling on the mountain in the twighlight.
But that’s not the main reason I’m writing. I thought I’d send you a quick reminder that with Spring just around the corner it’s time to start looking for some new Spring colors. This year putting together easy combinations of colors in underwear, makeup and outwear should be every CD’s priority. When was the last time you matched your eyeshadow to your favorite lingerie? Well, todays a great day to start planning ahead.
Got any great Spring outfit ideas? Get on the website and share them!
Sebastian, my personal trainer, was standing in my kitchen, looking distraught. It’s not a good look for a slim man in spandex. He’d cycled over to my place for a coffee.
“The stuff’s everywhere,” he moaned. “I can’t move in my apartment, there’s so much Jiz everywhere!”
“I’m sorry?” I said, adjusting the peach colored silk robe I was wearing. I had just waxed my legs and chest and the soft silk felt magnificent on my skin.
“It’s all over the place!” He went on.
“Sebastian,” I said, “What on earth are you talking about?”
“It’s the week of the Junior and Intermediate Zumba challenge. Everyone down at the gym enters.”
“Is that a ‘thing’?” I asked.
“I get to do the Jiz thing every year, and every year it’s a nightmare. I just get overwhelmed. And this year, honestly, I think I’ve taken as much as I can take. I’ve bitten off more than I can chew and I’m practically choking on it!”
“I believe the expression is ‘gagging’.” I added, helpfully.
“All the other personal trainers down at the gym leave it to me, and every year I just get sucked in!”
“I wonder why,” I said rhetorically.
“My whole place is covered in the stuff to arrange it, costumes, posters. I even had to design them myself.” Sebastian reached into his back pack and brought out a folded-up poster.
“Oh, Let me see it,” I said trying to sound enthusiastic.
“Yes, of course. Your friend Amanda helped me with it.”
“Amanda is my wife’s friend,” I pointed out. Because she edits a trade publication, Pig And Pig Farmer, Amanda considers herself something of a media mogul. I think you’ll agree that’s a bit of a stretch.
Sebastian unfolded the poster. An image of two young dancers, breathlessly whirling across the floor filled the page, with the headline, “It’s Jiz Time! You’ll be glad you came.”
Sebastian looked at it thoughtfully. “They wouldn’t let me put it up at Starbucks. They got quite snotty about it.”
“I wonder why,” I said.
But that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you today. It’s going to be spring soon, so it’s time to start getting ready with some new looks for Spring. I thought I’d make a couple of suggestions, to help you along.
Spring is a time to emphasise the soft pastels, using both cosmetics and clothes that lift and brighten their surroundings. This is a great time, if you don’t dress outside of the house, to bring some more feminine colors into your selection of clothes that you’d wear day to day.
If you wear glasses, think about getting a pair that are softer and more blended to your skin. Be prepared to experiment with your daily look, softening it with colors that convey gentle forms. Hard black frames may be better replaced with a softer color, for example.
As you color your life more gently, you may be surprised to find yourself feeling more gentle. You’re going to love that. You may well find that wearing pastels and muted colors contributes to a more gentle mood, and as you look the way you know you should, you start to feel the way you should, too.
I sincerely hope you are enjoying the news I share with you. You can participate and comment even more at http://FionaDobson.com
I arrived home on Saturday morning to a house full of guests. Max, my next door neighbours 20 year old son, had let himself in as he often does these days, Sebastian had arrived early for my yoga session, and as I walked into the kitchen, there was Sylvester clutching a twelve incher in his hand.
“That looks very meaty,” I said as Sylvester stood there looking proud.
“You know how much I love a good sub,” replied Sylvester. “Salami, tomato, olives… this is twelve inches of perfection.
If I had a quarter for every time I’d heard that, I thought quietly to myself. Actually, I’d only have a dollar twenty five, but all the same…
I slipped into a light skirt and a tee shirt, to be ready for yoga, and then asked Sylvester if he’d like to join Sebastian and I on the yoga mats. I should say that it’s rather like watching a fridge try to do a downward dog, when Sylvester does yoga. The will is there, though.
“Where on earth are Max and Sebastian,” I asked Sylvester wondering if perhaps Max would be joining us on the yoga mats.
“Max is teabagging in the basement,” said Sylvester.
“Really,” I said a little surprised.
“Yes. I had no idea Max knew so much about tea. He’s showing Sebastian how to mix a few different tea types and make a few tea bags. He has some black tea, oil of bergamot, vanilla and all sorts of things.”
“Oh,” I said, somewhat relieved. “How creative. We should see if they want to do yoga with us.”
However, that’s not the main reason I am writing to you. I’m sure that you have experienced, the same as many of us, feelings of embarrassment following dressing. Well, you’ll be pleased to know you don’t need to. In the video above I have prepared a short hypnosis for you that will help relieve those feelings. Have a listen and see how you get along.
Have a great week, and remember – “Accept yourself as you are, and create yourself as you you desire.”
Auntie Kittie’s niece Megan tells me her Auntie says she looks good in a kilt. What do you think?
“Push your bum back a bit,” said Sebastian, maneuvering behind me.
“Oh, Sebastian,” I said, perspiration dripping from my brow.
“That’s better,” he said pressing his hand into the small of my back.
As you probably know, Sebastian is my personal trainer. We often do yoga sessions together. Some of these yoga positions are really quite challenging. As we move into the cooler weather I do find I like to lift up the intensity of my exercise regime. And Sebastian is a treasure, I really do enjoy getting it up with him. My yoga is very important to me.
I also find that with the cooler weather I like to dress in suitably warmer clothes, and the opportunity to explore new styles is a source of great joy. I enjoy wearing a kilt, and know there are many other members, some who cannot overtly dress in femme clothing but can wear a kilt from time to time. A kilt is a very good way to gradually introduce more androgynous clothing into your repertoire.
This week, as an exercise perhaps you can check out a few ideas for kilts online – here’s a start.
I also loved the tights below. They have a nice tartan imprint. I do have some distant Scottish heritage and used to spend every Christmas on the Isle Of Skye. I even got lost in Dunvegan Castle once as a child. But one thing I do enjoy is watching the Highland Games events. I have always thought Bernard would be rather good at tossing the caber. I understand he comes from Essex, in England, which some of my English friends have told me is full of tossers.
Bernard tells me that it sometimes gets so cold in the north of Canada that there’s so many icicles hanging from his sporran that you’d think he brought along his own wind chimes. What a sight that must be.
Here in Canada we believe in an inclusive approach to life. This is exemplified by my good friend Justin, who – when he’s not busy running the country – is very happy to swing by and take a walk on the beach nearby. And I have to say, he doesn’t have bad legs. He’s asked me once or twice if I can spare Sebastian for a yoga class, but so far we’ve been a bit too busy and our schedules haven’t been quite aligned. Perhaps he’ll join us for a class here in Huckleberry Close as things slow down around Christmas. At least, he promised he would. We’ll see.
When not running the country Justin enjoys a little yoga, and wants to borrow Sebastian, my personal trainer.
If you enjoy a ghostly tale you may want to keep an eye open for The Living Doll on http://FionaDobson.com . There’s also The Foreshore Light and The Apartment, for those of you who like the ghostly theme of Halloween, both of which are already available. If you’d like to hear Jules Sanderson reading The Foreshore Light you can do so here. Be sure to check them out when you have a moment. I think I’ve given you enough there to keep you up at night. It’s not often that you find ghostly stories suitable for crossdressers, but I do try to present a broad cross section of content for my lovely members.