I’ve laid the table, now what’s next?

I really do enjoy having a few friends over in the evening. So it was that I found myself, just the other day, hosting a small party with Sylvester, Auntie Kittie, Sebastian, Rainbow and her new friend, Epiphany. Just use those links if you’d like to explore a little more detail of each of these great friends.

I’d prepared a small variety of dishes. You know how it is when you are taking into account the various dietary needs of people, I’m sure. When I had asked Epiphany what sort of foods she enjoyed she had informed me that she ‘preferred not to feast on the flesh of murdered animals.’

Epiphany is a very slight girl. I am sure she’ll become Rainbow’s lover. She has very small hands.

As Sylvester was listening to Rainbow talking about a flasher who has been frightening people in a local park, I put out the tofu drizzled with a peanut satay sauce.

“He was about average height and had a big coat. And I think he was right handed,” said Rainbow who didn’t seem the slightest concerned that she’d been exposed to in such a manner, when out for her evening run.

“How exciting,” I said. “And with all this cold weather, too!”

Epiphany and Rainbow, both choosing not to eat meat, were extolling the virtues of a vegetarian diet.

“I have often thought I should become vegetarian,” I said. “Though I really do enjoy seafood.”

Sylvester decided to chime in and added, “Fiona does love a winkle in cider now and then.”

I told Sylvester to shut up, you know he really can be quite coarse at times.

At this point Auntie Kittie chimed in that she thought everybody loves a well prepared bird on the table, “and honestly, girls, who doesn’t love a good stuffing?”

I gave Sylvester a sharp kick under the table as I saw his mouth open, but before he could make some crude comment. He muttered something about everyone loving a good sausage.

It’s such a good thing I always prepare a variety delights for my guests. I served the various dishes but not before suggesting to my assembled guests that they should be sure to leave a little room for desert. What a surprise it was for them when, after I cleared away the main course Auntie emerged from the kitchen and whipped out her dumplings covered in cream!

But that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you today. I am trying to build up my Patreon following. It’s an up hill struggle, but the more members I can grow there, the more content I can release. Your support is greatly appreciated, especially in these tough times. In case you don’t know you can support me there by subscribing for as little as $5, or if you choose to become one of my Unicorn level members you can get one of my famous ‘You want me to use which bathroom’ mugs. Who could resist such an offering!

Have a lovely evening,

Fiona

PS. Enjoy the video with Annie Lennox, Hugh Laurie and John Malkovich below.

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Poor Rainbow! I can’t think what got into her last night.

Rainbow sat clutching her gentle brow at my kitchen table, pale and effete as ever. That girl could well be a vampire.

“No, Rainbow. I don’t think anyone rufied your kombucha,” I said.  “I think you drank half a bottle of gin on your own. And that’s what it does.”

“But, my head,” she moaned.

Sylvester shifted awkwardly. Like most men, the delivery of unearned sympathy is something he struggles with. Instead he sensibly kept his mouth shut.

“You need a nice cleanse,” I said as I fried an egg in a heavy iron frying pan. “A sauna, perhaps and then a seaweed wrap.”

“Sushi?” she said, turning a little green.

“No, a seaweed wrap, where they wrap your body into the healing energy of seaweed. It’s lovely. I had one with Sebastian last week at the spa.”

“You realise I am basically an unemployed student?” retorted Rainbow.

“Well, I’m just saying, with all that yoga and healthy living…” I adopted my most forgiving manner.

“Are you saying I can’t go out and drink till I can’t feel my face from time to time?” she replied.

Rainbow seemed to be a little tense, as well as being in the midst of a severe hangover.

“Where on earth were you?” asked Sylvester.

“Some of the girls from the yoga studio and I went out to celebrate at Trannie Annies,” replied Rainbow.

“They don’t let me in that place anymore,” grumbled Sylvester.

“Shut up, Sylvester,” I said. “May I ask what you were celebrating last night, Rainbow. And, I mean, darling… was it really worth it?” I asked in an attempt to mollify her.

There was a long sigh, and then as I handed a high electrolyte orange drink to Rainbow she shared her latest news.

“and then … Yadayadayada, so now I realise I’m poly,” she concluded.

I stared at her.

I pride myself in being a crossdresser of taste and style, even if I do hang around with coarse oafs like Sylvester from time to time, but this was shocking news to me.

“Really,” I said stifling my bewildered emotions. “You’re into polyester?”

I couldn’t sanction such perversion.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Sylvester. “It means she’s got a thing for parrots.”

“You two are the limit,” said the poor suffering girl as I placed a perfectly fried egg on wholegrain toast before her.

“Really, Rainbow, darling, I can prepare a nice cleanse for you. An elixir of dandelion root, sage, kayle and Labrador tea leaves. I think of it as a very healthy cleanse.”

Sylvester piped up, “Sort of an ‘ethnic cleanse’. You’ll feel like an entirely new person. I always say “When you feel like the bottoms fallen out of your world, Fiona can make a cleanse that will make the world fall out of…”

“Sylvester, belt up!” I interjected.

Sylvester really can be quite coarse you know. I sometimes wonder why I let him in. Still he does like to come and join me for breakfast after driving the Zamboni to prepare the ice for our hockey players for their early morning practice.

Now, I’m sure you know this, but if you want to drill down and learn more about some of my people you’ll see that the first mention of them is generally highlighted and a hot link. Through the wonders of technology, if you click on that you’ll get a list of all the stories in which they feature. So you can drill down on any of the people and get more of their story. After 7 years of writing you’ll find the well is indeed quite deep. It can keep you uselessly employed for hours!

Have a wonderful day.

🙂

Fiona

PS. I recently rebuilt my Patreon presence. They’d kicked me off before but have let me back now on the condition that I keep my panties pulled up. If you’re enjoying these messages be sure to join me at any level on Patreon to build up my presence there. I include some fun content there. I am always grateful to my members. xxx

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The Grin And Bare It Nudist Colony.

I was relaxing in my garden this afternoon when I got a distraught call from Rainbow, Sebastian’s sister, asking to come round immediately. Of course, I said yes, always supportive of my friends. Besides, Sylvester had just left, having got my asphalt. He’s doing some work resurfacing the driveway.

“You’d better drop by, now I’ve got my asphalt,” I said down the phone.

Rainbow has just got back from a few days at what she calls a ‘retreat’. She does this once in a while, escaping to the Grin And Bare It Nudist Colony on a nearby island, in the southern Gulf Islands in British Columbia. It’s a rather strange sort of escape, involving naturists engaged in yoga and improv comedy. I suspect there’s a certain number of them that also become engaged in open sea swimming in an attempt to escape, or at least they would be if I found myself confined on an island in such circumstances.

One of the regulars at this particular location is a man who has turned to unusual street performance for his living.  Rainbow, who sometimes teaches yoga on the island, has been encouraging this gentleman, assuring him that street performance could be a great way to gain a small income for the rest of his life.

Continue reading “The Grin And Bare It Nudist Colony.”

Are you a ditz?

I do find it irritating in the extreme when Rainbow wanders in announcing that she’s ‘a complete ‘ditz’ when it comes to technology stuff’. Really, there’s no such word as ‘ditz’, and it’s not technology ‘stuff’!

“Look, you daft bat,” is what I should have said. But instead I said, “Look, if you want to get even more out of the website, all you have to do is register, and then log in. You can leave comments, connect with people, and do all sorts of things.”

“That sounds wonderful,” she said. “And I get one of those ‘Profiles’ that people can see?”

I let out a sigh and then explain “Yes, you get a profile. And of course you can put a picture up.”

I have to tell you that I love to read the comments on the posts. The one’s on My First Time are some of the best. I know that many members find that there is some very helpful content among them. If you click on the tags at the end of any of the posts you can drill down on the subject. It’s pretty clever.

I also feel that now, especially as Twitter is likely to be changing, providing my members with a place they can communicate and express their ideas seems more important than ever. If you’d like to participate be sure to:

  1. Register.
  2. Make a note of your login name and password.
  3. Log in regularly and participate by posting comments.

And now, I have to take care of Auntie Kittie, who is coming up the road clutching her latest diary entry, written in a pink notebook! God, you’d think she could learn to email it! And just to round things off, Amanda seems to be arriving next door, and heading this way.

She’s waving and saying something about having a german shepherd’s head buried in her crotch. I think she’s been walking down at the dog park. Or not.

Honestly. Is there no peace?

Rainbow’s career change.

As I was washing some vegetables this morning after my weekly shop at the organic vegetable store my phone rang, and who should it be but Sebastian, my personal trainer.

“Sebastian,” I said answering the call. “How lovely to hear from you. I’m just washing my organic ethically sourced zuchinis.”

This seemed to stop him in his tracks, but he quickly recovered himself.

“Fiona,” he said, clearly agitated, “what on earth have you been saying to Rainbow?”

You’ll remember that Rainbow is Sebastian’s flakey kombucha drinking yoga teacher sister.

“I chatted with her just yesterday,” I said. “We had a lovely conversation on that thing Max installed on my phone. Snatchchat, I think it’s called.”

“But what did you say to her,” he persisted.

“Oh, we talked about all sorts of things,” I replied.  “That Mr. Willow down the road. He got caught cheating on his wife with her twin sister. Funny story actually.”

Before I could go on Sebastian cut in, “Did you give her some career advice?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t give her career advice,” I said. “Not after the incident at the vets place.” –

Sebastian, sounded quite exasperated.

“What on earth’s the matter?” I asked.

Sounding very puzzled, he replied, “I just don’t understand it.  She’s going on about you telling her that she should be a therapist.”

“What, Rainbow?”  I replied, almost swallowing my tongue in surprise.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Suddenly a thought came to my mind. It came with the crushing inevitability of a garbage truck backing purposefully over a child’s unseen tricycle left out in the lane.

“Oh, wait,” I said. “I seem to remember saying to her that she should ‘see’ a therapist. Yes, that was it. Somewhere after the second bottle of Cab Sauvignon. Did you know her last therapist took his own life? Terrible!”

“Oh God,” said Sebastian. “She thinks you said she should ‘be’ a therapist. And now she’s all excited about getting trained.”

“It would be an unusual choice for a person like Rainbow,” I said. “Very unusual.”

You can read Rainbow’s profile here.

I shall watch her development with the sense of foreboding it deserves.

Have a lovely week,

Fiona

PS. Enjoy some Contrapoints below.

Long live the King.

I was lamenting the passing of our Queen yesterday, along with a huge number of people. My voice need hardly be added to the outpouring of regret by so many others, and yet I do feel a sense of loss. The Queen was, after all, an influence my entire life, and there’s no doubt about it, whatever else she was, she really was a likeable sort of monarch.

It was fitting that I wore a nice black sweater, black stockings and a black kilt yesterday. On that slightly mournful note, I have some lovely crossdressing funeral ideas HERE.

After my yoga session this morning I was sitting in my kitchen, enjoying a calming cup of tea with Sebastian, when he started telling me the news about his sister, Rainbow.

“Rainbow’s not seeing that optician anymore,” said Sebastian a little mournfully.

“I’m sorry,” I said, confused.

“They’ve broken up. It’s a pity, I think he was very good for her,” continued Sebastian. “Apparently when she said she couldn’t see him anymore he told her to stand a little closer, and then said ‘And now?’”

I looked at Sebastian and tried to figure out if he was joking.

“Well, Rainbow has some unusual ideas,” I said.

“She certainly does. She told me she felt their energies didn’t ‘co-mingle’ they way she wanted,” he concluded, looking through the window into the far distance in deep contemplation.

I tell you this as much as anything to set the scene. The window that overlooks my garden is really quite lovely but of late I have had Ali trimming some of the bushes just around the base of the window. He’s a talented gardener, and moves quite silently about the place, his long white gown floating like some ethereal gardening spirit. Now and then he stands up, his head appearing in my wind, and says something before once again going down on hands and knees working on among the foliage of my beautiful flowers. It can be quite disconcerting at times. He’s just like a Syrian Jack In The Box, appearing out of nowhere. It can be quite startling.

Rainbow isn’t seeing the optician anymore.

It was in this tranquil scene of quiet contemplation as I sipped my chamomile tea that Ali’s wizened head appeared, rising out of nowhere and chimed in, “Tits like coconuts.”

I steadied my nerves as Ali sank out of my line of vision, and then rising and leaning out of the window looked down into the flower beds and said, “I beg your pardon?”

Sebastian struggled back onto his stool.

Ali surfaced back into view and replied, “You were saying how much you like the birdsong of summer, and wanted to attract more birds into your garden.”

I stared blankly before remembering a conversation we’d had just the other day. I do like to attract wildlife into the garden, and had asked Ali if he had any thoughts on the matter.

“Oh yes,” he went on. “Lot’s of birds love coconuts. If you hang them on a string from one of the trees it’s sure to attract a few. You know, tits, chaffinches and sparrows. They all love coconuts.”

I slowly sat down once more, and thanked Ali for his contribution to the conversation. I really do wonder just how much English he understands, at times. I may have to talk with his English teacher.

I do hope you’re having a delightful end of summer. Be sure to have a look around the website – there’s a lot there and I always try to keep things fun.

😊

Fiona

I’m getting Sylvester’s boxers down.

“That’s it, Sylvester,” I said. “You just take down your boxers and I’ll stick a big one up there!”

While perched on the top of a step ladder Sylvester handed me down the two portraits of his father’s prize winner pedigree boxer dogs. They won the dog show here several years ago, and as I liked the pictures so much Sylvester allowed me to display the paintings in my living room while his apartment was being decorated. They made a nice change, but to be honest I’m a little bored of them now.  I’m replacing them with a huge photograph of Hannibal, my dachshund now.  I do like to freshen up the look of my living room in spring, don’t you?

I’ve had a lovely week, Marjory my neighbour invited me over yesterday evening, having hired a sweet young French chef to cook her birthday dinner. What a handsome young man he is! And I think he took a shine to me, too.

After thanking him in the kitchen for such a lovely meal I spotted something between the frog’s legs, and the cake. So many candles! In the end we lit them, and the chef and my friends all sang happy birthday for Marjory before she blew them all out in the dinning room. It brought quite a lump to my throat. Such fun!

But that’s not the main reason I’m writing today. I’ve been trying to be supportive to Rainbow, Sebastian‘s sister. She’s terribly worried about the people in Ukraine, where she has a number of friends.

“They should do something about those awful Russians,” she said to me while sitting at my kitchen table. “Can’t they send someone?”

“Like who?” I asked.

“I don’t know. The Pope, or the other one,” and then she paused and scratched her head, and then remembering said, “That nice Bono, or Greta Thunberg, perhaps.”

“I’m not sure Greta’s quite the right person,” I replied, “though she might have something to say about the carbon emissions of those useless T72 tanks. They seem to burn very well, if nothing else, but I don’t think that does much for global warming. Then again nor does a thermobaric weapon. The environment doesn’t seem to be a priority for Mr. Putin.”

“I feel so helpless,” she added at length.

“Well, you don’t have to,” I said. “Unicef, the UN agency with a mandate to help women and children, is organising help for women and children in Ukraine. So is UNHCR, who look after refugees.”

Giving here has the funds matched by the agency and is applied directly to women and children in need, and is the most efficient way to provide help. I didn’t need to add that previously having worked for Unicef in Africa, in field emergencies in Sudan and Somalia, I could vouch for their effectiveness.

“It’s a tragedy,” I said, giving her a hug. “But one way or another we’re all going to be a part of sorting it out. And I don’t mind paying a few extra dollars for gas if it means we don’t give Mr. Putin the kind of help he needs to hurt innocent women and children in Ukraine. Let’s just hope people are wise enough not to let his friends, people like that orange haired loser of a former president, ever get anywhere near the reins of power ever again.”

With that I suggested Rainbow come upstairs and help me pick out a nice yellow and blue outfit to wear when I go out today. Perhaps you could do the same.

If you feel generous use the links above to send a few dollars to support people affected by the war in Ukraine. Send me a copy of your receipt and I will enroll you at no cost in our Whatsapp Group – a gift worth $10 a month. Just send me a copy of your receipt to fdobson@zoho.com

Have a lovely week.

Fiona

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My dog, Hannibal, has been interred!

Well, I thought what Sylvester was saying was that Hannibal, my dachshund had been interred. Wondering if this were some punishment for running wildly about the park, I assumed he meant he’d been taken by the bylaw officer. This is what you get for letting your friend walk your dog.

I’d have walked Hannibal myself, were it not for the fact that I need my legs waxed. Rainbow has been kind enough to come over to help, and after we’ve finished we’ll be enjoying an eggplant yoghurt facial she has concocted. As you can imagine I am using the term ‘enjoying’ advisedly. I’m sure you understand there’s a certain amount of scheduled maintenance has to happen to keep up appearances, as a crossdressing account executive at the advertising agency. Much as one would care for a beautiful object, or as Bernard, my photographer, put it rather unkindly a large public building.

Sylvester thinks Hannibal, who is extremely sweet particularly when he snarls at Amanda, is a chick magnet. Whenever he walks Hannibal young women who ought to know better come up to Sylvester and start fawning over him. I mean, Hannibal, not Sylvester. Fawning over Sylvester would be like fawning over a Caterpillar Tractor. As a result Sylvester enjoys walking Hannibal some days, usually after the local yummy mummies have dropped there screaming charges off at the Huckleberry Montessori Daycare Centre For Spoiled Brats.

He wanders around the park looking sombre and brooding like a poet or a man recently widowed who needs the loving embrace of a dissatisfied young mother. Preferably blonde, a former gymnast, and quite possibly with poor English skills.

“What do you mean, Sylvester,’ I said into the phone. “They can’t inter my dog!’

“No, he’s been ‘interred’. It’s a fancy way of saying he’s got very dirty.”

I paused. I think Sylvester has been spending too much time with Ali, my Syrian gardener.

“I don’t think that’s what that means,” I said. “If you mean he’s dirty I suggest you bring him back here and give him a good wash. And I don’t mean like last time.”

I could tell Sylvester was about to protest and quickly added, “Sylvester, throwing Hannibal’s ball through Mr. Singh’s car wash does not count as cleaning my dog. I’m still getting abusive phone calls from him from the last time.”

I hung up the phone and returned to the business at hand, Katia having recently arrived and was presently sitting with Rainbow and myself contemplating the yoghurt facial. 

“Do you plan to eat it or fix the grouting with it?” she asked.

As you likely know, Katia Thornwood is what I can best be described as a disciplinarian, working with some of my Seahorse members. These are those special members who require that extra little helping hand in their dressing. Katia and Mistress Meg look after them and can be found on my Patreon. However, Katia was visiting my house to discuss some minor business matters and was looking forward to seeing Sylvester.

“He’s a very useful sort of chump,” observed Katia. “He leant me some of that very fine oil for a pair of nipple clamps I use on my visitors. I’ve been using them a while now, and I hardly hear a squeak out of them.”

“The clamps or the visitors,” I asked.

“Both,” she replied. “I have these rather frightening surgical shears I’d like him to oil. They’re most intimidating. They look perfect for castration.”

I winced a little and then said, “Well you can be sure your clients would speak highly of you after that.”

Katia sniggered and replied that they’re really just for show and insisted it’s good to maintain her tools.

😊

Fiona

Join me as a Good Gurl today.

The Texas Chainsaw Manicure.

The Texas Chainsaw Manicure

I had the strangest experience this week on the way to work.  I was on my way into he office and stopped at my favorite sandwich maker to pick up a something light for lunch.

I love to wear a hat on sunny days like the ones we’ve been enjoying in Vancouver recently. As a result I had on my nice new black fedora. It’s a wide brimmed hat and really quite lovely. I’d done my morning yoga with Sebastian, and then enjoyed a warm shower. I had not managed to dry my hair, being in a rush to get to the office for a meeting. As I’d left the house I knew I had wet hair tumbling over my shoulders, and I put on my nice new black hat.

I was really quite pleased by the look of it, and with my black coat and white blouse I felt I looked rather sharp. The nice young man behind the counter at the store seemed quite happy to chat to me as he made my sandwich, and I felt quite coy, I must say. I think I was even playing with my hair a little, twisting it around my finger as I do when I’m a little nervous. It was therefore a surprise when, after he’d handed me my nicely made Reuben sandwich ( https://natashaskitchen.com/reuben-sandwich/ ), just as I was leaving the store the nice young man behind the counter gave me the sweetest of smiles, which I returned, and then he said “Shalom.”

You wouldn’t think I would be confused with a member of the Hasidic Jewish community.

It wasn’t until I was half way down the street, passing a synagogue, that I caught sight of my reflection and realised, my chatty young friend at the sandwich store must have mistaken me for someone in the Hasidic Jewish community. I was torn between rushing back to explain that I’m not of that particular spiritual persuasion and getting to my meeting. After a moment’s thought I decided I’d wait till next time I passed the sandwich place, and then I’d order some ham sandwiches. I’m sure he’ll work it out in the end.

In the office I loaded up on coffee, in my “You don’t have to be a crossdressing account executive to work here, but it helps!” coffee mug, and then went into my meeting. I was so pleased when after the meeting I got a call from Rainbow, who is visiting on leave from her job at the lighthouse – you may remember she got a job after a little mix up – and we decided to go to the nail salon together. I recommend this to all my members, and it’s also a great way to connect with a girl friend. What could be nicer than going out to get your nails done together. I decided to go to Rainbow’s usual nail salon, rather than my own, as she supports a business which has a policy of employing seniors. How very thoughtful, I thought.

Now, as you know I am most sensitive to the feelings of those around me.  I connect with people, you see. I suppose it’s just my own natural empathy. A gift.  How it was that I managed to find myself having my nails painted with the only nail tech I’ve ever met who I swear had Parkinson’s disease, I don’t know. Either that or they were suffering withdrawal symptoms from something. Maybe it’s the fumes from all those chemicals.

“They’re going to look lovely,” she croaked in a broad southern drawl as she shakily painted another toe.

So, tonight I am removing the nail polish from my toes. That lovely shade of scarlet looks more like a nasty accident involving a chainsaw and a particularly slippery hand grip. Of course, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. Anyway, if you’ve not painted your toes lately perhaps it’s time. Feel free to send me a pic to post on the site.

😊

Fiona

Sylvester’s got his knob out and is giving it a polish.

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 wife’s 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, he’s very worried about his sister, who you will remember made a small error and applied for the job involving a little ‘light house keeping’, 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.

“I think we should address the elephant in the room,” said Bernard. Naturally I glanced at Amanda. He continued, “we need some direction.  Something to help us see past how difficult things are at the moment. We need some goals.”

“You are so right, Bernard,” I agreed. “It’s like my friend Justin said just the other day. Spring is coming! We should remember that!”

It’s not unusual for me to have a call from the Prime Minister’s 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.

Continue reading “Sylvester’s got his knob out and is giving it a polish.”

Rainbow is trying a new position.

What a start to the New Year! Naturally I’m very excited about events in Washington.  My connections there are strong and I’ve been hearing that there will be some new advisory boards and committees coming with the Biden administration, and several new faces. I’ve even been asked to sit on several.

Just the other day Sebastian and his sister, Rainbow, came over to my place to visit. Now, I should say we’re very careful about social distancing, so we sat in the garden and Ali brought us tea. He is a treasure, you know.

As we sat there planning out 2021 Rainbow pulled out a piece of paper and started reading to me a horoscope she’d put together. Now, as you probably know, I don’t really place much store by these things, but poor old Rainbow needs all the encouragement she can get at present. The yoga studio she works at recently closed down, as a result of Covid, and sales of her personally blended Kale and ginger protein shakes have not done as well as she’d like.

She read me my horoscope for 2021, which apparently includes challenges with communication (that’s worrying), some enlightening travel and overcoming feelings of isolation. I listened and sipped my Lady Grey tea, while I twisted a lock of my hair round my finger. It all sounded a little unlikely.

I would probably have forgotten all about it, had it not been for a rather surprising development the following day. One of the jobs Rainbow applied for online contacted her asking how soon she could start. She’s looking after some old place on the north coast. Naturally she was excited, agreed to start as soon as possible, and ended up flying the following afternoon to take up her new position.

I should probably have been alerted when Sebastian told me about the job after he’d dropped her at the airport.

“It said she’d be required to look after the place and do a little light house keeping,” said Sebastian with a concerned look on his face. “And they asked her if she had any marine experience.”

“And does she?” I asked.

“Well, she has a paddle board. She likes to do that sort of thing. She’s done some yoga on it while afloat. Pretty cool, really,” he mused. “When she asked what the Covid situation was they told her she’d not need to worry too much about that.”

The rather panicked email he later received made it clear that the job was not quite as she expected. It was a rather unfortunate grammatical error, but needless to say Rainbow now realises there’s a difference between ‘light house keeping’ and ‘lighthouse keeping’. Being the only person for 300 miles off the north coast of British Columbia will give her all the solitude one person can handle. It did make me think she’d perhaps mistaken the horoscope she read for me for her own. I’m told that when the weather clears up the location is quite beautiful. The weather forecast says she should expect things to clear up a bit by the end of April. I hope she took her paddle board.

But that is not the main reason I am writing. After long discussions with Katia Thornwood and Mistress Meg we’ve decided to release something special for the women in our members lives. Yes, we have a new program designed for Women Who Feminize Their Men. This is a wonderful program for any woman wanting to feminize and sissify their partner – with or without their knowledge. Yes, you read that right.

So, if you know someone who should be sissifying someone in their life, then please steer them toward this wonderful new offering.

As we go into an inauguration week, and watch the chaos of a presidency we’d all rather forget recede slowly into the distance, don’t forget there really are brighter days ahead. We’ve all got rather used to chaos. That’s not normal and we’ll leave the craziness of the last days behind us before long.

😊

Fiona

PS. If you’re enjoying my posts be sure to sign up for my weekly email here.

Rainbow’s sitting on my right hand at the kitchen table.

I’m so pleased to be able to write to you, in these troubled times it’s so good to be able talk to others just like myself. Perhaps you too get frustrated by the pace of modern life coming face to face the slowed down life we now lead due to Covid. Well, don’t worry, I’m here to help.

On the site there’s a host of content to help you get through the day, as well as some great hypnosis files that will help relax you. Just explore and you’ll find a ton of it.

Before I go on I should answer a query that’s come in from one of my members, Mildred from Colorado Springs.  In reply to her I have to point out that Minsk is a coastal city in northern Russia and not how a Russian drag queen walks down the street. I’m glad to have cleared that confusion up.

I also want to remind all my Patreon Members that you get a great part of the Patreon site that few people are really aware of.  There’s a community aspect here where you can post pics and even connect with other members. When you’re a member just go here – https://www.patreon.com/fionadobson/community  to participate.  It’s a lot of fun.

Life in Huckleberry Close is a little muted these days, as people reduce the number of people they’re seeing – reducing their ‘bubble’. Well, as inconvenient as it may be, I think we all understand that this is necessary. Personally I am using this time to get a little fishing in – socially distanced of course. I’m also enjoying reading a few more books than usual. It’s a chance to do some of the things I don’t usually get time to do.  For the moment I just don’t really feel comfortable with the idea of going out to restaurants, or getting on a plane.

Sadly Rainbow, who teaches at a local yoga studio, has been laid off, like so many others in that type of work. She’s asked me to help her with her resume and to help her apply for a few jobs. I asked her what qualifications she had, and if she’d graduated.

“Of course,” she replied while sipping her home made kombucha in my kitchen with Ali, my gardener, and I. “I have an advanced degree in Enlightenment with a minor in Colonic Irrigation from the Healing Light Yoga And Ayevedic Academy. I’m really not used to being unemployed.  It’s almost as if my spiritual GPS is not functioning.”

“Well, I’ll try to help, darling,” I told Rainbow, feeling a little doubtful that those were skills that are in particular demand at present. “Perhaps Sylvester knows someone. He’s quite well connected in Little Italy.”

“Oh yes, I know. That’s the area around Patel’s Pizzeria, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I said helpfully. “He’s quite big in the business community there.”

Now, you’re probably wondering why that part of town is called Little Italy. You wouldn’t be the first to think it was because of the profusion of immigrants from years back. It’s got more to do with the fact that it changed sides three times during the second world war, though. A very confused part of town, you’ll agree.

Ali listened sympathetically to Rainbow describing her difficulties finding work.

“I sometimes feel like the goddess Kali has cursed me,” said Rainbow.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” said Ali sagely. “I mean, it’s not as if she’s going to chase you down the high street beating you with her many arms and laying about you with that nose, trunk, thing of hers. It’s not like she caught you drinking Coca-cola instead of your usual distilled water, after all.”

“I don’t think the goddess Kali would curse Rainbow for that,” I said to Ali, unsure if he was teasing her. I am most concerned that his English lessons sometimes miss the mark a little.

“You’re right Fiona,” agreed Ali. “Perhaps Sylvester has something for Rainbow in his workshop. After all he runs a very tight shipwreck.”

I look skeptically at Ali. It’s taken him time to settle into the ways of Canada which are a little different to those of his native Syria.

In these difficult times we are all making adjustments.

Now, I want to tell you all about some spectacular Mary Janes I have recently tried from Glamour Boutique, my favorite online store. First of all, the quality of these shoes is faultless. They fit my size 10 male, size twelve female, feet perfectly.  When I recently stopped by The Junction in Vancouver’s Davie Street, the boys were all very complementary, with comments ranging from how elegant they looked, to how good they’d look beside my favorite server’s bed.

These are a patent leather shoe, with a four inch heel – I can best describe it as being a heel size that say’s you’re somewhat innocent, and yet at the same time accessible and possibly a filthy little crotch ferret, much like myself. The dainty strap is equally at home being undone hurriedly after a night out, or being released by a lover’s teeth in a frenzied moment of passion.

Have a good look through Glamour Boutique’s site and be sure to mention my name when you order them. They’re a great company, reliable and always on point with quality merchandise. You need never feel awkward contacting them, and discretion is their watchword.

Now, I must get back to work. Sebastian, my personal trainer, is coming to give me a workout soon. He tells me he’s got an exciting new exercise regime he wants me to get into. Or vice versa. Something like that.

😊

Have a wonderful weekend.

Fiona.

What are you going to catch this fall?

As this month draws to a close I am forced to reflect on a couple of things.  The first is that as I look forward to the fall I know that all the lovely clothes I like to wear with browns and the russet colors of this time of year are ready to replace the summer clothes I’ve been wearing.  A long skirt with earth tones looks so nice. I’m looking forward to putting together some new outfits along a fall theme.

I should also make a quick correction in the advice I recently gave to my member Mildred, from Colorado Springs. When I suggested a pair of sugar tongs can easily be used to pull fur balls from a cat, I should have pointed out that these are in the cat’s throat. I’m glad I’ve cleared that one up.

Sylvester appeared in my kitchen today just as the coffee was percolating. He was full of himself, freshly back from a trip out of town, with my neighbour Marjory and her girlfriend, Amanda (the queen of tweed). This unlikely trio spelled trouble, without a doubt.

Like so many other businesses, Sylvester’s workshop has seen a little bit of a slow down during this Covid period. People seem to be travelling much less, and so they need less work on their vehicles. A mechanic’s life is not an easy one in times like this. Having said that, poor Rainbow, Sebastian’s sister, is teaching no yoga classes at all, and her usual way of supplementing her income by waitressing is a total washout. I suppose we should all be as supportive to anyone in the hospitality trade as we can.  I shall bake Rainbow a nice gluten-free peach cobbler, which is sure to make her feel better.

I poured an ethically sourced coffee for Sylvester and myself, pulled the grey blue satin wrap I was wearing around my body, exposing my recently shaved legs and contemplated my pink fluffy slippers as Sylvester stared at his phone. Don’t you think it so rude when people spend more time staring at their screen than the person they’re with? Sylvester can be really quite coarse at times.

“Marjory took this great photograph, have a look,” said Sylvester passing me the device.

I cast a critical eye over it.

“She’s not a bad photographer,” I said looking at the picture of Sylvester fly fishing.

“Yes,” replied Sylvester admiring the picture. “I think she really caught something there.”

“Yes. Covid, perhaps. Or Chlamydia, more likely.”

Sylvester looked a little crestfallen and said, “It’s not like that.”

“Of course it isn’t.” I replied. I’ve made no secret of my disapproval of Sylvester pursuing Amanda. The poor sap seems completely unable to control his desires.

“Though, I must admit,” he continued, “if Marjory wasn’t on the scene…” His voice trailed off and he stared into the distance lost in thought, before adding, “I can imagine making sweet music with her.”

“I’m sure you can,” I said skeptically. “Perhaps she could be the clap machine.”

But all this playful banter is not the main reason I’m writing tonight. It’s to suggest that if you haven’t already joined my Patreon it would be delightful to see you in there. You can join for as little as $1 a month.  If you’re already a member, thank you for making this blog possible. I’d love to lift my Patreon membership to over 175, and try as I might I don’t seem able to crack that number. With your help I’ll get there in the end.

One last note… Yeah, we’re in a second wave. Here in Canada, in the UK and in the US. Don’t be a Covidiot. Mask up and enjoy the ride. Here are some cool ideas to help. https://youtu.be/wJu9EyPK8gw and https://www.pinterest.ca/fionadobson22/masks-with-style/

Have a lovely weekend and stay safe.

Fiona

Become a Patron!
Become a Patron!

Sylvester is checking out Amanda’s cans.

What a strange day it’s 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, “Amanda’s going to drop by later. She wants me to check out her cans.”

“I’m sorry?” I replied a little surprised.

“Her headphones,” he said. “She 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 I’d check them out.”

“Oh,” I said doubtfully. “I see.”

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 ‘the competitive eating lesbian’. Well, as I’ve 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.

“You should be a little careful,” I said to Sylvester. “Marjory and Amanda are together, as inexplicable as it may be. I’m not sure that you should be hunting in that particular briar patch. You might get pricked.”

“I don’t mean to be pedantic,” said Sebastian cutting in. “But, I’m not sure you can hunt in a brier patch.”

In the interests of contextual accuracy I rephrased my doubts to Sylvester, saying “I’m really not sure you want that bird in your hand. Better to leave it in the bush.”

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.

“OK,” I said. “Let’s try this again. I don’t think, Sylvester, that you should have your snout in that particular trough.”

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.

“She’s only just got them out of the kiln,” he said helpfully. “She want’s to show us her pottery. It’s come on so well recently.”

Have a delightful weekend and if you’re 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. 

Fiona

Become a Patron!

Rainbow whips out her crackers.

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.

Continue reading “Rainbow whips out her crackers.”

COVID19 Crossdressing News.

I looked at Sylvester skeptically, my arms folded and leaned back against the stove in my kitchen.

“Really, a quarantine reserve?” I said.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “Just enough food and supplies so that you don’t 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.”

“Is it really necessary,” I asked. “I was planning to spend tomorrow morning at the nail spa.”

“Probably not.  Hopefully not. But perhaps. And if it is, then you’ll be a lot more comfortable with it than without it. It’s not urgent, but you may want to have a few things to hand.”

“I can imagine you’d have 200 cans of baked beans in yours.”

“That’s not fair,” protested Sylvester.

“Your flatulence isn’t fair,” I responded. “Besides, I think I’d rather die of flu than be gassed to death.”

“Besides, it only has to last a couple of weeks. By then you’ll be better. Or dead.”

“So you have 14 cans of beans, then?”

“And other products.”

“Well, if you get sick you be sure to come over here. I make excellent chicken soup. And bloody mary’s. And I have a good reserve to see us through, if Auntie Kittie hasn’t 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.”

I took a pad of paper and started noting essentials. My list started:

Quarantine List for CORVID19 survival.

Foundation (I don’t like to look too pale).

Eyeliner (If you have to take a selfie and put it on social media when you are sick, it’s nicer if your eyes really pop).

Blush (it’s always good to have a little color in your cheeks).

Influenza safe lingerie (Be sure to be buried in this if things don’t go so well – crossdressed to eternity).

Pink N19 face mask (which probably doesn’t 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 “I don’t think you’re taking this very seriously.”

“Quite the contrary. I have already set aside a very healthy reserve. I’ve also stocked up on hand sanitizer, cancelled a flight I don’t 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.”

At that point Sebastian and his sister, Rainbow arrived for our evening ‘wine and yoga’ 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.

“Well, I don’t think canned food is a good idea.  Everyone knows canned food is not as good as fresh, and probably has evil spirits in it. I’ve always found pineapple helps me if I have flu. That and some kombucha. I do have some crystals though.”

While a lemon might be perfect if this particular illness were more closely related to scurvy, I thought I might hold off on Rainbow’s advice. Scurvy is not something we see a lot of in Canada.

“So, you don’t go with Sylvester’s baked beans only remedy?”

“If we don’t get gassed to death he’ll blow us up when Sebastian sparks up a joint. I’m not sure which is the worse way to die!” she replied thoughtfully.

On a more serious note, here’s a great website for suggestions of what to gather should you feel the need – https://www.businessinsider.com/expert-how-to-stockpile-healthy-food-14-day-coronavirus-quarantine-2020-2

There’s a lot of spurious information floating around. It’s 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, I’m 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.

Rainbow has a blockage!

As you may be aware Sebastian, my personal trainer, has high tailed it off to Molvania on some jaunt for Personal Trainers Without Borders, leaving me without so much as a gym partner to help me with my yoga positions. I know what you’re thinking – ‘how selfish!’.

Well, no one has seen hide nor hair of Sebastian since he sneaked out of Canada and went off to teach Molvanian peasants about being vegan. Personally I think this might be a step up from living a life punctuated by intermittent starvation, but not a very big one. If I were a Molvanian peasant I know I’d like nothing more than a nice bit of sausage from time to time.

Continue reading “Rainbow has a blockage!”