First of all I’d like to say that I hope you are loving my programs. We have over 2500 gurls enjoying my helping hand… Wait, that sounds a little wrong. If you are not already in one of the programs you should sign up today. Â Anyway, I thought I’d share what I’ve been getting up to this week.
With all this sunshine I’ve been spending a lot of time in the garden and at the beach. I do love to sail, and Bernard’s boat is finally in shape. It’s so good to live in a city in which the outdoor lifestyle I love is so accessible.
My gardener, Ali Ibrahim, pulled into my drive way in his Smart Car this Tuesday. He’s been doing some topiary in my garden. With him was Sylvester, my mechanic. Now, Sylvester is a very large man and seeing him struggle out of Ali’s tiny car was rather like watching a man get out of an overcoat that is three sizes too small for him.
âI had no idea you knew Ali,â I said to Sylvester.
âI don’t. He gave me a ride from the highway. My truck broke down, again! Very kind of your friend Mr. Ibrahim to pick me up.â
The irony of this was not lost on me.
Sylvester was speaking very slowly, so Ali would understand him. So slowly, actually, that one might assume he thought Ali had some extreme form of learning disability. Sylvester was, of course, unaware that Ali had been a professor in a university in Damascus until fleeing the country and finding his way to Canada.
âHe just pulled over and offered me a lift, and it turned out we were both coming to your place.â
âHow fortuitous,â I said. Sylvester was looking a little dubiously at Ali, who in turn was smiling happily, as is his nature.
Sylvester took me aside and looking a little worried said âhe keeps saying he can’t get his whores in his car.â
âYes,â I said. âIt’s very small.â
âCar no good for hoes,â said Ali, catching my eye, and nodding and smiling happily.
âYes, Ali. I’m sure,â I said smiling.
I turned to Sylvester and said, âAli is struggling a little with his English, but I think he’s trying to tell you that he doesn’t like the smart car because he can’t put his rakes and hoes and spade in the back. He’s got his small tools for working in the garden, but his large tools get… stuck. But you’d know all about that.â
Sylvester sniggered and turned to Ali and said, âHoes, eh? Well come by my shop in the morning, ok?â
Ali smiled his enormous smile and nodded enthusiastically.
When Ali showed up at my place the yesterday to continue his work on remodelling my bush he came with the most extraordinary collection of tools on the back of his Smart Car. Sylvester had given him a nice new gun rack, salvaged from a car that had been written off.
Ever the inventive soul, Ali had fitted it and now uses it to carry his hoes and rakes and larger tools. And we all like larger tools.
But that’s not the main reason I am writing. I am thrilled to say I have a few spaces available in our Whatsapp Group. You can find all the details here, if you like chatting with other CDs.
Auntie Kittie and her naughty nieces have been having an exciting spring. Get Aunties diary for just $1 a month.
I am happy to say that a few friends and I have been able to gather safely, and socially distanced, in my garden of late. Seeing Sebastian, Sylvester and Bernard all sitting there, along with Marjory and Amanda was a very special treat after such a long time when gatherings have been a bad idea. I am thrilled to say that weâve finally all ben vaccinated.
Each of my friends brought an item they had prepared themselves. Sebastian whipped out his lovely sausage, which I am sure you know I just canât get enough of! Just when I think I canât take any more of it, he surprises me with more.
I was however a little disturbed as Sylvester leaned suggestively over toward Amanda and asked her if sheâd like to try a cream horn. He really can be quite coarse, you know. It did remind me though, I did have to speak to Amanda confidentially, and make something of an apology.
This was a matter which by its very nature is unpleasant, however, when Amanda had asked me about a little problem she has I felt obliged to assist. Now, as you know, Amanda is not exactly my favorite person being my wifeâs friend and former lover from university. Anyway, it seems Amanda has a problem with something politely described as âhyperhidrosisâ. In plain English this translates through to âshe sweats like a gross pigâ, something not all together surprising as she is the editor of Pig and Pig Farmer Weekly.
When she approached me confidentially to ask my advice, which as you are doubtless aware I offer without judgement or any desire to embarrass, I was happy to help the poor pig⊠oops⊠woman. Pointing out the fact that it may be a sign of more serious health issues, such as diabetes, infection or a thyroid issue, I suggested that the most likely cause was that she was a little out of shape and that she might think of getting more active. Perhaps she should go out with Bernard in his sailboat, or spend more time on her bicycle than in her Prius. Or occasionally walk somewhere.
âBut, Fiona,â she replied by text, during a brief exchange, âI feel so embarrassed about my sweating. If I exercise more people will see it. I have great lines of sweat on my tee shirt, and under my arms.â
I pushed the gross imagery from my mind and suggested âPerhaps an antiperspirantâŠâ
The texts flowed to and fro with her asking for recommendations, and as it happened the advertising agency for whom I work do handle an account for a large manufacturer of healthy personal products, so I suggested their antiperspirant stick product, which I had couriered over to her directly. Weâre particularly proud of our association with this company, having suggested some slight revisions to the previously ungainly shape of the product. It is now sportily shaped in an aerodynamic style.
âItâs easy to use,â I texted her. âJust remove top and push up bottom.â
Well, needless to say I did not mean her to take the instructions quite so literally. I suppose when people depend on texts it is somewhat easy to take them a little out of context. Needless to say Amanda was experiencing a degree of discomfort, and I felt I should offer my sympathy.
By the way you can read more of any character I mention by drilling down into the hotlinked references to them, if you feel so inclined. Itâs a fun way to explore the strange world I navigate daily.
Iâd like to suggest a very worthy charitable cause for my members today. I donât do this often, as I know not everyone is able to help. Today however I think it important to raise awareness of many of our sisters in quite dire need in India. Itâs not easy being trans at the best of times but during a pandemic things can be extremely difficult. Of course, we canât help everyone on the planet, but helping those where the buck goes furthest is probably not a bad idea. Anyway, check out this campaign, and if it resonates I am sure your help will not be unappreciated.
As I said to Sylvester today, I’ve been so busy recently, I’ve been getting a little behind!
All I can say is that a little knowledge is a very dangerous thing. It all started so innocently.
Now, as you likely know, Amanda (my wifeâs appalling friend), is something of a thorn in my side. My dear wife is currently in isolation in Dubai, or Mumbai. Somewhere.
Ever since my dog, Hannibal, had an unfortunate run in with an adult toy in her house, Amanda has been going on about getting a dog. It was therefore no great surprise when she called me to tell me sheâd done so, but that she needed some help. Apparently sheâd got herself a delightful little dog, a Chihuahua named Whisky.
Now, this shouldnât be so hard to deal with. However, this particular dog was a real barker. Little Whiskey would bark whenever anyone came near the house and Amanda was extremely irritated by the incessant noise. Sheâd bought a shock collar to try and dissuade little Whisky from barking, but apparently there was something wrong with it. She called me to see if I could take a look at the device.
Naturally, I did what any sensible crossdressing advertising executive would do, and picked the thing up, and gave it to Sylvester â my mechanic â to see if he could fix it. I am a crossdressing advertising executive, not an engineer, after all.
Sylvester promptly strapped the device to one of his staff, and giving him a burst or two of the shock, it was evident that the batteries were flat. In no time heâd fitted new batteries and a small charge was transmitted to his workshop assistant. I thought it a rather unusual practice, but one that could be a breakthrough in personnel motivation. While a little controversial, it would doubtless result in greater productivity.
Sylvester laughed a little about this, and said he wanted to see if he could lift the output a bit, and we thought nothing more of it. As I was passing his workshop the following day, I wandered in and picked it up, even though Sylvester was out the back of the workshop polishing his chopper, as he so often is.
That night I dropped the collar off with Amanda, and she fitted it to little Whisky. I remember thinking, as I slipped into a long silk evening gown that night, that I should probably have tested the collar before giving it back to Amanda. I didnât really give it much more thought.
So it was that, this morning I pulled into her driveway, stepped out of the car and a tiny white bundle of chihuahua hair came bounding out of the house in my direction. Little Whisky started yapping, the way he often does, and then quite suddenly he stopped. He seemed to stand bolt upright, twitch twice in silence and then he keeled over at my feet.
I stared at the catatonic form of Whiskey, my mouth open in surprise. I could barely believe my eyes. Then, from an upstairs window, Amanda leaned out and said, âThat device works wonderfully well.â
Whisky was at my feet twitching. Evidently Amanda had heard the yapping, and hit the remote zapper. Unaware that the poor dog was twitching, and convulsing at my feet. As far as Amanda was concerned, the barking had stopped, and therefore the shock collar worked perfectly.
âYes,â I said, maneuvering myself between her line of sight and the poor dog. âI think it works quite, errr, thoroughly.â
As her head disappeared into the house I picked up little Whisky. In a state of both panic and sympathy I wondered how you give mouth to mouth resuscitation to a chihuahua. As quickly as heâd been put into a seizure Whisky seemed to come back to life, and started licking my hand. I took the opportunity to remove the collar and slipped it into my pocket.
Poor Whisky, rather like Bernard, who had been tazered last year, looked quite disturbed. He was however a little quieter.
Now, I have to hurry off to Sylvester and have him reconfigure this thing before Amanda electrocutes the poor thing permanently. Doubtless, no good deed goes unpunished! However, before I finish, Iâd like to remind a few of you who love to buy their clothes online that I do have a few great suggestions, and Auntie Kittie has even made some suggestions for those of a more sissy nature. When you click through on those links you help me out a lot, even when you donât end up buying. At the foot of most of my posts I include a few suggestions. Be sure to explore them, and of course I love to hear about it if youâve bought something particularly satisfying.
By the way if you are ever interested in learning more about the characters mentioned in the World Of Fiona Dobson you will find that the names are often hotlinked in their first mention in a post. If you click on this you will pull up all the posts in which they are mentioned, which gives you an interesting way in which to explore my community.
Be sure to support me on Patreon if youâre enjoying what Iâm doing.
What an eventful week. It all started with Sylvester, but then doesnât it always. He had a nasty fall from the toilet after a particularly strong curry. I have been trying to be as supportive as possible, visiting and bringing over things he needs while he rests up.
I should point out that over the years Sylvester has become much more than simply my mechanic. He is a dear friend and we often used to travel together. A couple of years ago we visited England and explored my childhood home on the Isle of Wight. Apart from doing a few touristy things, we did visit one of my neighbours who has been a friend of my since childhood. He lives on a neighboring farm and apart from the usual stock keeps a few chickens and rare avian breeds. I always look forward to seeing his woodcock, pullet and swallow.
And of course thereâs always the fun of buying a few souvenirs to bring back to friends at home. Last time I remember we brought back sticks of rock for friends. I should explain that these are long shafts of hard candy about a foot long, often with the name of the place it comes from set into it. I donât really think thereâs a North American equivalent of this, much to the disappointment of dentists throughout the new world.
When I dropped off a few things to make Sylvester more comfortable while he rests up this week he asked me if Iâd like to suck on his twelve incher, and then handed me a stick of rock left over from our trip. You can probably imagine how surprised I was. So many of my trips provide me with memories that will never leave me. At least, not without a long course of therapy.
I expect it will be a little while before we once again share the joys of being squeezed into economy seating on an airline next to a fat guy that brought his own salami. I may even get to the stage where I miss the body searches that Jeffrey at the airport always gives me when I arrive back home. Jeffrey is the sweet young man that looks after customs at our the airport. The last couple of times heâs insisted on doing the search even though I was just picking up a friend returning from a local flight and had just parked my car. He really is quite familiar. He could save us all a lot of time and just ask me out on a date, but I guess heâs just shy.
But thatâs not the main reason I am writing. I have been so thrilled with the following Iâm building on Patreon, I thought Iâd give you a quick heads up. I will be putting the base program price up soon, so if youâre not already in there and  want to get in to the $1 a month level itâs probably a good idea to get in there soon. As I said to Jeffrey last time I came through arrivals, as he gave me that knowing smile and pulled his glove on, âyouâd better get in there quickly before I put it up.â
By the way I Max has posted my latest story on the Fiona Dobson Patreon, which you can access free here. It’s a cautionary tale for those members crossdressing in their senior years, and it’s really worth a listen.
We had a little socially distanced gathering the other day which I feel I should tell you about. Amanda, as you likely know, is my wifeâs friend and the editor of Pig And Pig Farmer Weekly, the seventh most popular pig related publication in the Midwest. As such I have found inviting her to some brainstorming sessions has helped at times. On this occasion Bernard, my photographer, and Sebastian were also present.
Poor Sebastian, heâs very worried about his sister, who you will remember made a small error and applied for the job involving a little âlight house keepingâ, and is now positioned in the far north manning a navigation outpost alone in the northern arctic. Bernard is also feeling quite disrupted. He loves to go hunting and fishing. The cold months unfortunately reduce his leisure activities substantially. So, you can see the need for a something to destress us all seemed quite pressing.
âI think we should address the elephant in the room,â said Bernard. Naturally I glanced at Amanda. He continued, âwe need some direction. Something to help us see past how difficult things are at the moment. We need some goals.â
âYou are so right, Bernard,â I agreed. âItâs like my friend Justin said just the other day. Spring is coming! We should remember that!â
Itâs not unusual for me to have a call from the Prime Ministerâs office late in the evening, with Mr. Trudeau looking for a little advice. He often asks me for a helping hand, and I am always happy to give him one.
The other night Bernard was being uncharacteristically quiet at the table in the restaurant, with my friends and I enjoying the New Year celebrations. Sylvester and Ali were laughing. I remember, particularly, as I was explaining that while in Australia last year, between photoshoots, I had been diving and had been describing the various merits of the sea cucumber. Bernard had been on the trip, though since his transplant has not been doing much diving.
We were enjoying a wonderful meal at a restaurant in the heart of Montreal which served favorite dishes from around the world. Sebastian had ordered the German Sausage, and shared some of it with Bernard. The succulent meat was exquisitely prepared, and Bernard tucked into it with gusto.
That was when I noticed Bernard changing color. âAre you alright?â I asked. When there came no reply I felt a wave of panic sweep over me. Itâs only a few short weeks since Bernardâs operation.
If youâre a regular reading of my material youâll know that Amanda is not my favorite person on the planet. It was only as a favor to my wife that I invited her to join us for dinner. My wife is on one of her trips. This is a charitable one, I believe. If I remember rightly sheâs feeding the hungry in Africa, or something. Maybe itâs the Africans in Hungary. Itâs so hard to keep track of her. She has such a big heart. Before leaving on her mission of mercy she had made me promise to take Amanda out with us for dinner on New Years eve.
I remember very vividly, as that night I had chosen to wear a mid blue evening dress, with a bodice that laced up behind, and matching blue heels. The blue was a very particular shade, and as I watched Bernard he gradually changed color to a matching hue.
âWhat on earth is the matter with Bernard,â I said and looked at Sylvester.
âSearch me,â answered Sylvester.
Suddenly Amanda leapt to her enormous feet, and shouted âHeimlich manoeuvre!â For a woman of disturbing proportions she certainly can move swiftly. It reminded me of one of those National Geographic TV shows, about when hippos attack.
âDonât worry,â she said to a terrified looking Bernard, who by now was clearly choking. âIâm a trained professional.â
I took a long sip of my wine, and said to Sylvester, âThis should be interesting.â
Amanda was behind Bernard, wrapping her arms around him and began squeezing. Bernard shifted to a deeper shade of blue.
âThatâs it Amanda, you need to reach around him,â said Sylvester.
âAnd then jerk him. Youâve got the idea,â I added helpfully. Amanda seemed to be thrusting powerfully with her hips, and Bernard looked increasingly alarmed.
A moment later his head jerked back and he coughed and his throat seemed to clear. I was most impressed by the whole thing. Amanda had indeed saved the day, and Bernard had made a new friend.
What a way to go into the New Year. So, if you feel like sharing, let me know what New Years Resolutions you plan to break this year.
I sincerely hope you are enjoying the news I share with you. You can participate and comment even more at http://FionaDobson.com
My goodness, if you could see whatâs going on outside my window. I can hardly believe is! Iâm standing here in my Christmas lingerie, and my heels, and quite shocked at what I can see going on out there!
Ali, my gardner has just told me, âItâs ok, Fiona. Itâs just Sylvester and Max jacking off in the flower beds.â
Now, I know you can imagine me standing here in my flowing red silk robe, mouth open in surprise. I am staring out at the snowy Montreal scene, and everybody seems to be having a wonderful time! Oh, perhaps you should even be here!
Let me explain. Iâm watching Sylvesterâs muscle bound arm pumping up and down and Max, my next door neighbours 20 year old son laughing – I think heâs licking his fingers â yes, heâs spilled some Baileyâs Irish Cream on his hand, or at least I think thatâs what it is. And Ali is watching, engrossed in the unfolding scene.
Theyâre laughing and very jolly, Sylvesterâs face red with exertion, and he has a look of deep concentration. Apparently, Aliâs Smart Car slid off the drive in the snow as he pulled into the icy driveway. It slid into the flower bed, and onto a rock in the rockery. Max and Sylvester were already at my place enjoying a Christmas eve drink, and now the three of them are working away to lift the little vehicle off the rock and manhandle it back onto the drive. What Christmas excitement!
I should hurry along! Amanda, the queen of tweed will be here soon, and Bernard is coming over. My wife, sadly is travelling. Sheâs a slave to her job! In the meantime, we are a fun gang, all hoping that Christmas will go with a bang!
I know Sebastian wants to show me his mince pies and sausage. He has been making so many delightful treats lately.
I hope you have a lovely Christmas! Have a wonderful holiday and remember, be careful if you are driving in the snow. Otherwise you too might find yourself licking Irish cream from your fingers after jacking off in someoneâs garden!
Well, what can I say. Itâs not been an easy week. As many of us go into an election week, I know all of us are going to be feeling a certain degree of stress. Be assured I am here for you.
I always find it helpful to listen to the Fiona Dobson playlist on Youtube to dispel stress. It really does help put a smile on my face, even when I do read about something mind bogglingly moronic that the buffoon in the White House is up to. I believe it was Mayo Angelou, that great philosopher that said, âMask up, asshole.â That, however, is not the main reason Iâm writing to you.
Several of my members have written to me this week concerned about my good friend Rainbow, the yoga teacher, who has recently found herself out of work due to the problems we face associated with Covid. I selected one email at random, from Mildred, of Colorado Springs, that I felt I might share with you. Mildred suggested that perhaps Rainbow could make use of her talents as a vegetarian, helping others improve their diet. How very thoughtful, Mildred. I will pass the suggestion on to Rainbow. Vegetarian meals can indeed be an exquisite blend of flavors and are sure to excite the taste buds and satisfy the appetite, unless youâve ever actually tasted meat.
Fortunately Sebastian, Sylvester, Ali and the rest of the crew are all managing ok. Amanda, my wifeâs good friend, has moved in with my next door neighbor Marjory, with whom she is conducting a sordid lesbian relationship. She is working from home there, and I mentioned to Sylvester (who has designs on Amanda for some inexplicable reason), that I often saw her in the conservatory beavering away. He replied âAmanda is indeed elbow deep in,â and at this point he paused meaningfully, ââŠwork.â
What times these are. Nonetheless, I felt I would write and tell you of a rather unusual incident that took place the other night. As you may be aware Canada is large. In fact itâs huge. Earlier this week I was driving across one of our seemingly endless prairies, late at night when I saw mysterious lights in the sky, approaching at high speed. At first I thought it might be our Prime Minister, my good friend Justin Trudeau in his private plane. He has the disturbing habit of flying very low over the prairies, smiling and waving at us as he goes by. You may have heard of him, heâs the head of state in the North America that can read.
However, it was not he. I should have remembered heâs usually tucked up in bed by 9 pm with a cup of hot milk. No, this was altogether too fast to be something of this world.
Now, I think I know what youâre thinking. âOh, not again!â Yes, thatâs right, youâll remember I had an encounter with alien life forms a little over two years ago. And indeed once again this vessel drew level with my speeding Buick, and I felt the sensation of being lifted off the ground, as if by a giant alien hand.
Faster than you can say âanal probeâ I found myself in the hold of the enormous vessel. Two alien figures dressed in a silver grey fabric, some type of satin I imagine, walked out of what seemed to be a wall of light toward my car. I was a little disconcerted, as you might imagine. After all itâs not everyday that you are accosted by higher life forms. One of them tapped on the window, and as I looked at them I realised these were the very same two aliens I had met once before.
I put my mask on, and then lowered the window.
The closer of the two aliens leaned toward me and then said, âExcuse me madam, are you the owner of this vehicle?â
âYou know I am. Remember, weâve met before.â
âJust my little joke,â he said with a smile. His sense of humor had not improved in the two years since last we met.
The closer of the two aliens turned to the other and said, âI told you, weâve seen this one before.â
They seemed to pause for a moment, consulted what looked like an Ipad, and then one shook his head in disappointment, before saying, âWell, letâs get on with it, otherwise weâll never make the quota.â
Ever helpful I said, âAre you running out of people?â
The nearest alien nodded, and said. âItâs this Covid business. No oneâs going out much these days.â
âWell, itâs not like you ask permission,â I said.
âNo, but when we pick up someone off Davie Street in Vancouver, and theyâve had six pints of Alexander Keiths everyone just thinks they had a good night at The Junction. No one believes theyâve really been abducted. You know, plausible deniability and all that. But these days,â he shook his bald head, ânot so many people are going out for the night. Thatâs why we have to hang out in the middle of nowhere.â At this point he turned to his friend and said, âIâm not even sure where we are!â
I sighed and said, âCovid.â
In agreement he nodded and sighed, âCovid.â
The senior alien, clearly impatient, then chimed in, âwould you mind getting out of the car please?â
I stepped out of the car, and the two of them led me into a small examination room. Instead of the surgical table and lights that one expects in these circumstances, I was placed in a reclining chair and the first alien asked if I would be kind enough to read the letters on a lightbox directly in front of me.
âA, F, G, H,â I said and then asked, âis this it? I mean, youâre giving me an eye exam?â
âPlease just read the letters,â said the one that appeared to be in charge.
âM, S, X, no, really is this it?â
The second alien cut in at this point and said, âThey donât let us use the probe any more. They said itâs not politically correct. Something about it not being âwokeâ, whatever that is.â
âWell,â I replied, âitâs not like you ask for consent, is it?â
âWe didnât get many complaints in this sector. At least not on Davie Street.â
âNo,â I said. âYou wouldnât. You might get a few people disappointed that you didnât at least leave your number after youâd finished.â
At this point the first alien smiled at me and said confidentially, âwho said he didnât,â and then winked.
Anyway, I felt I should share these events with you. Now, if youâre in the US be sure to get out and vote as soon as you can. If you donât live in the US, let’s wish our friendsâ the best for their election.
My gardener, Ali is a Syrian refugee. Heâs a lovely man, and he and his family are making a go of things in Canada, and doing exceptionally well. His girls are doing so well at school. When I recently asked him what he thought ofâProud Boysâhe said that while his home country was not very tolerant of their lifestyle, he personally felt that peopleâs lifestyle choices are their own affair.
Aliâs English is sometimes not quite what it might be. Heâs been here a few years now, but he still sometimes struggles a little. He has become firm friends with Sylvester, my mechanic and confidante, and I commented on it recently saying how pleased I was that they get along so well.
He replied, âAh, yes. Sylvester. Heâs a very good person. We get along like a horse on fire.â
Which reminds me, I must chat with his English teacher. I believe Mistress Meg is acquainted with him â Professor Longstaff. If you follow my Patreon as a Seahorse youâll have read about him.
âBut Ali,â I said. âSurely you donât agree with Mr. Trump, embracing the Proud Boys.â
He looked at me with some doubt in his careworn face.
âAs I said, Mr. Trumps lifestyle choice is his own affair,â he replied. âNot that thereâs anything wrong with that.â
I sometimes struggle to understand if Ali is teasing me.
âBut what about all this âStand back and stand byâ business?â I said pressing on in what I was beginning to feel was a pointless exercise.
ââStand back and stand byâ? I thought they said âstand back and bend overâ!â said Ali.
I gave up and left him to continue raking up the fallen leaves. Donât you just love the fall? You can find some fun fall clothing ideas on my Pinterest HERE.
Donât forget to sign up for my Patreon and help me keep shoving it up the Proud Boys⊠I think you know what I mean.
What a strange time it’s been. Today in Vancouver we have the strangest light, as smoke from forest fires up and down the west coast fills the air. Visibility here is really quite terrible.
With Covid, and forest fires one can only think that a plague of frogs might be next. It does leave one wondering why more people don’t take climate change seriously. It’s going to get hotter and drier in the coming years, and if we don’t want this every summer we might as well get used to reducing carbon emissions.
Sylvester, my mechanic friend, swung by earlier, and told me how his week’s been going. Not much better than mine I think.
âIt took three of use, heaving and panting and sweating to get my erection up,â said Sylvester, my mechanic, sitting at my kitchen table and sipping tea from my finest bone china. Like many of my best friends he just appears in my kitchen sometimes. Like a big sweaty mechanic genie.
âIâm sure it did,â I said sympathetically. âNow, just tell me again, this âerectionâ, what is that again?â
I realise I may be out of step with some of my members when I say this, and this is really just my own opinion, but I do feel quite comfortable limiting some of my social interactions as we go through the whole Corona thing. I’ve taken the opportunity to trim out some of the less positive people in my life, and do more of the things I enjoy.
It’s a little bit like having the opportunity to fine tune one’s life a little. Reducing the negative people in my life, and engaging in the things I enjoy has become something of a goal. Sadly, Sylvester is having a more difficult time of it, being so outgoing and social.
Sylvester, for example, throws enjoyable parties, though sometimes they really do get quite out of hand. On one evening last year he had a rather unusual night during which one of his friends decided they were intent on cornering me and plying me with drink, in the hopes that they might do unspeakable, but delightful things to my body.
What a strange day itâs turning out to be. Our members are all out doing wonderful things. Julia in Holland, one of my favorite members in our Whatsapp Group, has been out and bought some beautiful summery things, and nearby I know Lenni is having a garage sale.
Julia has been doing so well. She, like many of my members in the Whatsapp Group, shares some of her experiences and activities with other members of the group. It makes it a very supportive community.
This afternoon a few friends will be stopping by as the isolation period begins to lift. Lockdown here in Canada has been well observed and the results mean we are now able to begin very gradually restarting 2020. I, like most of my friends, feel that having a glass of wine in the garden with one or two friends is much more comfortable than going out to a restaurant, for the time being at least. It also gives us the chance to have a bit of a barbecue in the garden. Sebastian is hoping to treat us to his sausage later on. I am wearing a denim skirt, tee shirt and a lovely floral mask, and keeping things very simple.
Sylvester and Sebastian arrived a little while ago astride his enormous chopper.
Taking off his helmet he said excitedly, âAmandaâs going to drop by later. She wants me to check out her cans.â
âIâm sorry?â I replied a little surprised.
âHer headphones,â he said. âShe says they crackle. She wants me to see if I can sort them out. It’s probably just a loose connection. They were very expensive apparently. Mind you that was in 1993. Still, I said Iâd check them out.â
âOh,â I said doubtfully. âI see.â
I have told Sylvester on more than one occasion that Amanda is in a relationship with my neighbour, Marjory the competitive lesbian eater. Or should that be âthe competitive eating lesbianâ. Well, as Iâve mentioned before Marjory is apparently quite a big noise in the world of competitive eating, although like so many sporting disciplines they are experiencing something of a famine this season.
âYou should be a little careful,â I said to Sylvester. âMarjory and Amanda are together, as inexplicable as it may be. Iâm not sure that you should be hunting in that particular briar patch. You might get pricked.â
âI donât mean to be pedantic,â said Sebastian cutting in. âBut, Iâm not sure you can hunt in a brier patch.â
In the interests of contextual accuracy I rephrased my doubts to Sylvester, saying âIâm really not sure you want that bird in your hand. Better to leave it in the bush.â
Sebastian mumbled something about Sylvester having big hands and added that there are plenty more fish in the bush. I decided I should let it slip past. Instead I shot them both a look of disapproval.
âOK,â I said. âLetâs try this again. I donât think, Sylvester, that you should have your snout in that particular trough.â
I think I may have to go in a moment. Sebastian has just got a call on his cell and let everyone know that Rainbow will be dropping by shortly and wants to show us her jugs.
âSheâs only just got them out of the kiln,â he said helpfully. âShe wantâs to show us her pottery. Itâs come on so well recently.â
Have a delightful weekend and if youâre one of my American members have the very best of Independence Days. To all my members, keep it real and stay distanced and masked if you can.
Like everything else, we can address the question of masks with style, kindness and our own values.
While sitting in my garden, enjoying watching Ali bent over working on some of the flowerbeds, I was surprised to see Sylvester (my mechanic) arrive and use my rear entrance (phrasing) sitting astride his enormous chopper.
Heâs spent much of his time polishing up his chopper recently, but then havenât we all? This lockdown can be a little tedious, can’t it? Sylvester does enjoy riding his Harley and keeping it pristine.
Maintaining social distancing he joined me in the garden and we sat and talked. He looked quite agitated. It takes a lot to phase Sylvester. Naturally, in my role as both friend and counselor I felt I should help.
âItâs Amanda. What am
I supposed to do about her?â
âEuthanasia?â I asked helpfully, adjusting the way my sun dress hung from my shoulders.
âPlease,â he insisted, âtry to be helpful!â
âWhat seems to be the problem, Sylvester?â I asked.
âWell, I asked her if sheâd like to come for a ride on my chopper,â continued Sylvester.
âBut Sylvester, Amanda is with Marjory now,â I said.
âI know. But sometimes I like to take people on my bike. Itâs
fun.â
âWell,â I said, âI suppose itâs fairly harmless. Even though
I understand youâve âchecked her fluidsâ on more than one occasion.â
Iâve found a good way to maintain social distance and still be
able to communicate with Sylvester and the various welcome, and less welcome,
visitors to my house. I sit at the
kitchen window and chat through the window, while they sit outside with their
own coffee mug.
I am not paranoid, but weâre learning to live with social
distancing in a responsible way here in Canada. We respect the rules around
isolation, because weâd like to get things back on track at the soonest
reasonable opportunity. I know peopleâs views on this vary. This video
accurately shows how easy it is to pass on a virus, and we take it very
seriously here.
âIâd like to get out to a pub,â said Sylvester. “A glass of Alexander Keith’s IPA, with beads of condensation on a warm spring evening would go down pretty well.”
I looked at Sylvester skeptically, my arms folded and leaned back against the stove in my kitchen.
âReally, a quarantine reserve?â I said.
âYes,â he said firmly. âJust enough food and supplies so
that you donât need to go out, should you feel sick. I mean, spreading this
thing around the place hardly seems to be living up to your civic responsibility.â
âIs it really necessary,â I asked. âI was planning to spend
tomorrow morning at the nail spa.â
âProbably not.
Hopefully not. But perhaps. And if it is, then youâll be a lot more
comfortable with it than without it. Itâs not urgent, but you may want to have
a few things to hand.â
âI can imagine youâd have 200 cans of baked beans in yours.â
âThatâs not fair,â protested Sylvester.
âYour flatulence isnât fair,â I responded. âBesides, I think
Iâd rather die of flu than be gassed to death.â
âBesides, it only has to last a couple of weeks. By then youâll
be better. Or dead.â
âSo you have 14 cans of beans, then?â
âAnd other products.â
âWell, if you get sick you be sure to come over here. I make
excellent chicken soup. And bloody maryâs. And I have a good reserve to see us
through, if Auntie Kittie hasnât drunk it all. But you may have a point. If one
does get sick, going out for supplies might be a little bit of a drag. I shall
put a list together of things to get in.â
I took a pad of paper and started noting essentials. My list
started:
Quarantine List for CORVID19 survival.
Foundation (I donât like to look too pale).
Eyeliner (If you have to take a selfie and put it on social media when you are sick, itâs nicer if your eyes really pop).
Blush (itâs always good to have a little color in your cheeks).
Influenza safe lingerie (Be sure to be buried in this if things donât go so well â crossdressed to eternity).
Pink N19 face mask (which probably doesnât work but goes well with that nice polo neck I got on Amazon last week).
Sylvester interrupted me with a hurt look on his face, and
said âI donât think youâre taking this very seriously.â
âQuite the contrary. I have already set aside a very healthy
reserve. Iâve also stocked up on hand sanitizer, cancelled a flight I donât
really have to take, and I am expecting to work a lot more from home in the future.
So, I think I am very well prepared.â
At that point Sebastian and his sister, Rainbow arrived for
our evening âwine and yogaâ class.
As I pulled on my leggings in my bedroom I asked Rainbow,
who was also changing, what she thought about it all, and immediately regretted
it.
âWell, I donât think canned food is a good idea. Everyone knows canned food is not as good as
fresh, and probably has evil spirits in it. Iâve always found pineapple helps
me if I have flu. That and some kombucha. I do have some crystals though.â
While a lemon might be perfect if this particular illness
were more closely related to scurvy, I thought I might hold off on Rainbowâs
advice. Scurvy is not something we see a lot of in Canada.
âSo, you donât go with Sylvesterâs baked beans only remedy?â
âIf we donât get gassed to death heâll blow us up when
Sebastian sparks up a joint. Iâm not sure which is the worse way to die!â she
replied thoughtfully.
Thereâs a lot of spurious information floating around. Itâs
smart to be prepared, but not to panic. Probably the most valuable tool at
present is a bar of soap for thorough hand washing. But if you do end up sick,
be sure to have just the right night wear to hand if you end up quarantined for
weeks. And with that, Iâm off to buy some new nighties.
Got some suggestions for your Quarantine List for CORVID19 survival kit? Be sure to add them to the comments below.
Some of you will remember that my mechanic, Sylvester, is a bit of an inventor. His last invention, the Boner, did ok and was technologically sound, but (ironically) never achieved the market penetration heâd hoped.
This morning I was startled to awake to a strange haunting sound coming from the direction of Sylvesterâs workshop. At first I thought that the city was testing itâs Early Warning System, originally used to forewarn of a nuclear attack, but now consigned to warn of any of Donald Trumps family infiltrating Canada. I was however mistaken. The sound would come and go, like a ghostly melody drifting across a post apocalyptic landscape, or Detroit. Several residents of Huckleberry Close were congregating outside their houses looking worried, until the sounds faded away.
When I got an urgent call this morning asking me to stand in as Master of Ceremonies for a charity event, I was caught short completely. It was really quite tragic, their own MC having met with an unusual accident involving a hamster, a length of pipe and a lighter. Iâm told they should be out of hospital in a week or so, though the hamster was less fortunate. The situation was made doubly dramatic as I had just sent several of my favorite dresses to the dry cleaners as I have a string of events to attend in the coming weeks, and I had nothing to wear. However, as luck would have it I received a delivery when I got to work directly from my friends at Glamour Boutique.
What a stroke of fortune, a beautiful purple lace sleeve dress delivered in their usual discrete packaging. Now, thereâs a number of excellent reasons you should buy from a supplier like Glamour Boutique, rather than off the shelf. I will go into that shortly, but first, let me tell you exactly how this evening played out.
I called Sylvester who, while he does look like a gorilla that has been strategically shaved when he wears a suit, can be quite fun at these events. He agreed to join me at home at Huckleberry Close and we would then go on from there.
He pulled into my drive right behind me as I arrived home from work, and then waited in the living room as I hurried upstairs to change. As I did so I called down, saying âYouâll have to give me a moment to slip into something.â
I pulled on some fishnets, slipped into a pair of patent leather black heels, and then stepped into the dress. A moment spent on make up, and then I descended the stairs. Sylvester was gawping at me as I walked into the hallway.
I turned and inspected myself in the full length mirror, Sylvester looming behind me like a great henge.
I watched his reflection as I adjusted my hair, and saw how his gaze fell to my behind, framed nicely by the cut of this particular dress.
âYes,â he muttered. âSlipping into that seems a good ideaâŠâ
âSylvester,â I said sharply and he averted his gaze.  He really can be most coarse at times.
Moments later we were off to the event, Sylvester driving and I feeling quite excited. A new dress always makes me feel coquettish. Particularly this one. The lace sleeves are so perfect for crossdressers, as they hide a multitude of sins, such as unsightly arm hair. Additionally, the cut of this particular dress is perfect for so many of us. The Empire waist really is a good choice for those of us in the gender fluid space. Most of us donât have a very pronounced waist, but this style really does lend us a little more shape.
Iâve said before that buying from a company like Glamour Boutique is a good idea. These dresses are synthetic and almost impossible to crease. This is important to me as there are times I have to fling something in a bag without much preparation, and I may not be able to hang it as precisely as a silk or cotton dress might need. Wearing creased clothing is always awkward and a sign of very poor taste. This comfortably sized synthetic dress fits easily to the curves of my body, while still giving a little in those areas I need it to. The fabric has enough stretch to work for a male body shape, and for those of us who occasionally like to add a few body form accessories. After all, donât we all have moments where adding a little extra presence to our bust measurement can be done to good effect?
Well made crossdressing dresses will work with or without such accessories, and stretch to accommodate either option. This is why I generally go with clothing from Glamour Boutique, rather than from local stores. I know I will get clothes specifically chosen to be good for a crossdresser, rather than something that might look great in the store but really doesnât work so well in front of the mirror at home while Sylvester stares at my ass.
And on the subject of my ass, I have to tell you I love this empire waist. Itâs not usually my first choice of dress shape, but it really does work well. Coupled with a high heel the effect is to give just the right flare to the dress, as my ass is slightly exaggerated by the cut of the dress combined with a nice heel. The effect is a dress that has a nice swing to it, looks smooth and well fitted and is really comfortable to wear. So, you can see, I was pretty happy to get to the event, stand up in front of the crowd and enjoy a moment in the spotlight looking great.
I know you will have the same sense of satisfaction if you get in touch with my friends at Glamour Boutique. Be sure to tell them I sent you.
“Shove that shaft in my trunk,” I said to Sylvester, who’d asked me to give him a ride home after work.
He’s a wonderful mechanic, always with a tool in his hand. But I digress. I felt I would write and tell you about the wonderful things we’ve got planned for Mexico.
So many of my members struggle to find a way to dress discretely and safely. I am thrilled to be offering the escape to Mexico we have planned for January.
I hear so many stories of members unable to dress and relax.
Many of my members are not comfortable going out of the house dressed. Others
fear they may not pass as well as theyâd like.
Now, imagine a situation where you could dress. You could ask someone
for some help and advice. You could even learn about make up, and enjoy a night
out without the worry of someone bumping into you. That sounds like a pretty
good day.
Well, our team at the Fiona Dobson Crossdressing Conference can help you do exactly that â but for four days and in the spectacular Miramar Hotel in Puerto Vallarta. Join us on this escape and take that giant step that every crossdresser wants. This trip will help you feel confident crossdressing. In unpressured and non judgemental surroundings enjoy the feeling of wearing what you wish, and doing what you want.
Youâll be with a small group of people, likely just like you, in a private setting. If youâve ever had to hide your dressing, this retreat will be relaxing and rejuvenating. Get more information HERE.
By the way, if you’ve never read it, you may enjoy my ongoing series Clothes Maketh The Man. It’s in it’s 37th episode at present.
Sylvester was speaking very slowly, so Ali would understand him. So slowly, actually, that one might assume he thought Ali had some extreme form of learning disability. Sylvester was, of course, unaware that Ali had been a professor in a university in Damascus until fleeing the country and finding his way to Canada.
