My knob is terribly stiff!

“This knob is very stiff,” I said to Sylvester, as I relaxed in the seat.

Oh, I should explain, he’s been installing a new sound system in my car.

“I can loosen it a little,” said Sylvester, “but you don’t want it so loose that someone ends up jerking it off. You wouldn’t want that.”

“Speak for yourself,” I replied.

However, that’s not the reason I’m writing to you. Mildred, from Colorado Springs writes:

“Fiona, I’d like to be reminded of you every morning when I have my first cup of coffee of the day. And I’d also like to discretely show my support for trans people and those of us that are of a gender non-conforming bent. What can you do to help?

Love from Mildred, Colorado Springs.

PS. Why do I get so much mail that starts out “Dear Sir or Madam’? Is there something I should know?”

OK. One thing at a time.

Yes, of course I have something to help you first thing in the morning. And a discrete way to show your support to all our members and friends. I was in a conversation with Sebastian about this just yesterday. I can see him in my minds eye right now, sitting on my right hand after we’d finished yoga, while I enjoyed a soothing cup of Earl Grey Tea.

“Those nice boys and girls at Patreon can help you. They can make a cup and give it to any member who joins as a Unicorn and stays on for three months,” he told me while pulling his yoga pants back on.

“That’s a curiously random piece of information to have,” I replied.

It’s true, though. If you join my Patreon as a Unicorn after three months you will receive this lovely mug, complete with the image here. This will be recognizable to anyone interested in gender issues, though won’t really mean much to anyone else. I’m told it’s really a good idea. It is also a great conversation starter.

Keep in in this is my first venture into the world of ‘Merch’. It all sounds so very sordid. Anyway, Max will oversee the tech side of it. He’s recovered from the last flogging he had. I think that was for something to do with us being kicked off Tumblr. Again! Either way I will see it’s done well.

So, pound my button as hard as you can and sign up as a Unicorn Member and in three months you’ll get a cool cup to help you enjoy me every morning. Wait. That’s not what I meant.

🙂

Fiona.

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I know what I believe, no need to wear that on my sleeve…

I was doing yoga in my garden just this morning with Sebastian, when he raised something that’s been on my mind a while.

“Fiona,” he said, while adjusting my position in a deep hip opening yoga position, “I have always like that on your blog you are unafraid to deal with the deep and penetrating issues.”

I felt him leaning into my posture, pressing me slightly deeper into the position.

Continue reading “I know what I believe, no need to wear that on my sleeve…”

Be careful who you let walk your dog.

I am very proud of my legs.  As Sebastian, my personal trainer has often commented, during our yoga practice, I am able to place my legs in some most unusual positions. As I was doing ‘downward dog’ the other morning I felt first a twinge and then one knee collapsed, and I was revisited by some damage incurred during an old skiing accident.

I am very happy with my general health, however in the fall, now and then, I get a twinge.  It passes within a week or so, and then I am back to tip top health, but this week I am very slow. I know you are wondering what all this has to do anything, but I felt I should confide in you, as what I am about to say might sound just a little odd.

Part of my morning fitness routine, usually following my morning swim with Sebastian – he really does enjoy giving me a morning work out – is to walk my dog, Hannibal. Now, some of you may remember Hannibal has had more than one run in with Amanda over the years. He once found a marital aid under her sofa and the resulting drama was traumatizing for myself and my poor little dachshund.

He subsequently saw Sebastian’s homeopath for PTSD for several weeks. Pet’s Traumatic Stress Disorder is not a widely recognized, at least not in the DSM, but if you were exposed to Amanda’s adult toy collection I guarantee you’d not be the same person after the experience.  A whole teamof therapists wouldn’t be enough, I assure you.

Continue reading “Be careful who you let walk your dog.”

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 magnificence of dreams.

I stepped out of the warm stream of the shower knowing Sebastian and Sylvester were downstairs waiting for me in the breakfast room. After pulling on some panties, a robe and my pink fluffy slippers I hurried down the stairs.

Sebastian and Sylvester were at the table. I’d completed a particularly rigorous dawn yoga session with Sebastian. If my hips were any more open you could have driven a train up there. As luck would have it Sylvester had offered to make us breakfast. While usually a coarse oaf, Sylvester has the capacity to be quite sweet at times.

As I glided into the kitchen Sylvester was serving up a delightful grilled breakfast, the sausages sizzling fresh off the skillet. A good start to the day is a lot easier with a breakfast like this. And breakfast is really the most important meal of the day. The bacon was glistening with flavor and the tomatoes came from Ali’s own garden. Quite lovely.

“It’s the damndest thing,” I said staring at the plate.

Sylvester looked at my plate and said “what’s wrong with it?”

“No, not the food. It’s just I had the weirdest dream last night.”

Sebastian asked, “What did you dream?”

I closed my eyes and tried to remember how it all went.

“There were a few of us downtown. And there was this guy who had died.”

“Who was he?” asked Sylvester.

“I don’t know. It’s not important. Just some stiff,” I replied.

“Anyway they wouldn’t let him in the graveyard because the church said they didn’t have room. But everyone knew it was because he was queer. So, there was this drag queen. She was lovely. Let’s call her ‘Carlotta’.., and I. And we stole the body and buried her up in the church yard anyway.”

“You know they don’t let you do that,” said Sylvester.

“It was a dream,” I protested. “And we went up there and buried this guy. And then we did other stuff. Loads of stuff… And I had this lovely long velvet riding dress,  like in that English serial.  And Carlotta had these sequins on her pants and a gold cowboy hat and these huge guns with pearl inlays and a smoked blue gunmetal finish. A pair of 44s. Matching nails. Did I say we were on horses?”

“I know all about Carlotta’s 44s. How many of you were there,” asked Sylvester, a canny look in his eye.

“I believe it was seven. Seven trannies and drag queens. And one was bald. I’m not quite sure what her deal was. Yes, that sounds about right. You have no idea how much glitter that is.” I replied.

“Yes, you just dreamed The Magnificent Seven. That’s one of the best movies ever made,” said Sylvester.

“I thought it was a fantasy about masculinity and white privilege wrapped up in a self righteous superior message, all avoiding the whole gun thing, and how it’s a penis substitute and actually they’d all rather be playing with their wieners. Except Yul Brynner. No, If he was coming after me with that huge weapon of his. Well, let’s just say I wouldn’t be running away all that fast.” I replied. “Can you imagine,” I said my thoughts drifting off. “…falling, and Yul leaning over you and reaching down and pulling you to your feet, and grabbing a great handful of ass and ripping….” My voice tailed off.  Sometimes I do forget not to speak my thoughts.

I continued, “But, yes, still one of the best movies ever made.”

Bringing a note of levity to the conversation Sebastian chimed in, “They’re all gone now…”

And what a time it would be to have a magnificent seven. With trans rights, and democracy itself on the ropes, we see so many hard won advances in decline. Things will turn around again soon. And in the meantime I think we have to support our trans sisters, regardless of what stage they are at, wherever we find them. Remember, you’re not alone. There are many of us here.

Enjoy the video clip below.

😊

Fiona


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.”

Do you ever feel like playing with yourself?

Hi,

Of all the busy bees in my life these days chief among them is my good friend and mechanic, Sylvester. I came into the living room just yesterday to find him on the floor with Sebastian, my personal trainer, saying “Colonel Mustard, in the library with a ten-inch dildo.”

“I beg your pardon,” I said a little shocked.

“Oh hello,” said Sylvester. “We’re playing Adult Clue (or Cludo if you are from The United Kingdom). It’s something I’ve adapted from the board game.”

Sylvester can be quite a disturbing individual, and he really can be quite coarse at times.

“Well,” I said, trying to be encouraging although I felt a little awkward, “I’m glad to see you’re not letting your God given talents go to waste, Sylvester.”

After a moment’s thought I added, “Perhaps you could think up some way to murder a new character – you could call her, oh, I don’t know… ‘Amanda’. Death by impaling, in the neighbors house, by the crossdresser.”

For those of you who don’t know, Amanda is my wife’s childhood friend, who has started a relationship with my next door neighbour, Marjory. This is a source of some annoyance, particularly as my wife is travelling at present.

I should tell you I enjoy competitive games enormously. I also play some role playing games. So many times I feel like I’m getting ahead and suddenly someone’s coming up behind me and a breathless struggle ensues. It’s all very exciting. Perhaps you know the feeling. Sometimes I get so excited, I just don’t know what comes over me! I guess it’s the cut and thrust – mostly the thrust – of putting oneself up against a fellow player.

I should also say that this week one of my friends who is a regular player got on a plane to work in New York for a couple of weeks, leaving me with no alternative but to play with myself.

That, however, is not the main reason I’m writing to you. I thought I’d write and tell you about the delightful Mollie Blake. She’s a talented writer who has recently had a piece featured on my website, and we’re expecting to see some interesting new episodes from soon. If you’ve not already read “The Dating Game“, this weekend is a great time to do so. 

I should also draw special attention to Katia Thornwood’s writing, which is mostly in my Seahorse level which has been growing into a favorite among my members. Slipping into bed, and putting Katia on to read as you fall asleep is one sure way to end the night on a high note.  Katia’s style is quite unique, and if you enjoy her rather strange view of the world.

For the many members who are asking about the Clothes Maketh The Man chapter list it can be found HERE. Well, you can see that the office here has been pretty busy bringing you the best of all things to do with Crossdressing. Have a wonderful week.

😊

Fiona

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I woke up today to a terrific banging.

I awoke this morning to a terrific banging. Now, I know what you’re thinking, but it wasn’t like that at all.


I pulled on a lovely apricot silk gown, and fluffy slippers, and hurried down to the front door, where I was confronted by Sylvester and Sebastian chatting away, framed by snow in the doorway.

“I had a huge curry, last night,” said Sylvester, “and I woke up to find we’d had a terrific dump!”

“Good morning, Sylvester,” I said as the two of them stood on my snowy doorstep. “I assume you’re talking about this heavy snowfall.”

“It’s about 9 inches and I couldn’t get up the drive at all.”

“Can we use your rear entrance, Fiona?” said Sebastian.  If I had a nickel for everytime…

“Why don’t you boys slip around the back of the house. Ali’s very kindly cleared the lane. You should be able to park there without difficulty,” I said.

And with that the two boys disappeared and left me to put on the hot chocolate, and warm some croissants. My friends are joining me for breakfast today as we’re working on some new ideas for the premium program. If you’re a member of this wonderful program you’ll know how much fun we have with it. If you’re not, then think about jumping in!

Have a lovely day.

🙂

Fiona

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Imagine, it’s 12 inches long and you’re right on top of it!

Imagine, it’s 12 inches long and you’re right on top of it!

Hi,

“What’s that,” I asked Max, my personal trainer.

“My Christmas list, Fiona.”

“Ah,” I replied.  “I thought it might be something like that, I replied, a little disappointed. It seems a little while since I got on top of anything except for my email inbox.

And speaking of my inbox, I have received a number of emails regarding last weeks’ message about Max’s new girlfriend and her comment about being able to ‘wang her own pickle jar.’

In reply to Michelle, in Tennessee, I am not sure it’s possible to do that with a racoon, but suspect that your animal welfare department may have something to say about it.

Vivian, in San Antonio, I think what you suggested is keenly encouraged by some religions, and is probably all right between consenting adults, but ultimately down to the individual church-goer.

I think Max’s Christmas list involves a large number of gifts, most of which will have his new girlfriend staring at the ceiling of this studio apartment until February.

And as we get ready for the holiday season, there’s a couple of things to remember. Obviously the first thing is to think about getting yourself a little present to encourage yourself. In the video below (which will probably be pulled by Youtube very soon) you may find some ideas. It’s the great Canadian singer, Bryan Adams. I am not entirely  sure this is what he had in mind when he wrote this song, but it works rather well, don’t you think?

If the video doesn’t appear – try this link https://vimeo.com/194093382

http://FionaDobson.com
The second thing to remember is that you can give yourself the gift of confidence and connection by investing in my Premium Program or Little Black Book, if you’re not already a member. If you are, then get out on the Little Black Book and send some Christmas greetings to the Gurls all around the world, who would love to hear from you.

🙂

Fiona

 

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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.

What are you driving?

I could not help noticing, whilst driving home from the advertising agency the other day, the names on the back of vehicles. The model names of vehicles are of interest to me, from both the branding perspective and what it tells me about the drivers.

Have you been reading ‘Clothes Maketh The Man‘? Enjoy the ongoing serial now in its third year.

A therapist member of mine recently pointed out to me that several of their erectile dysfunction clients did indeed drive muscle cars, in more than one instance a Hummer. Frankly I feel anyone driving a Hummer should be on their knees begging forgiveness from their children as they pump heat into an increasingly fragile environment. On the other hand, given the erectile dysfunction issues associate with Hummer ownership theirs a good chance that having children is one complication these thoughtless tools will not have to concern themselves with.

Sylvester, on the other hand has shunned the muscles cars and even removed the photo on his office wall of him posing with his Dodge Penetrator 3000. I am pleased to see him mellowing. I do remember the day he pulled up outside my house, on his phone calling me to tell me he was there.

“I’m just pulling into your garage,” he said. “No wait, I’m reversing.  Pulling in again… backing up, and going in again now. Perhaps I should go in the laneway round the back. I can get the back way, but it’s a bit tight.”

You know, I may have said this before, but Sylvester can be quite coarse at times.

Personally I like to drive a Buick Vagina. It’s the limited Silhouette edition. So much more my style. Both feminine and powerful, with the twin turbo V6 with the cuddle seats option.

Vehicle names and designs do tell us a lot about their drivers. I noticed a Kia Soul in the traffic as I was driving home, and I can only speculate that some Korean designer sat down and thought hard about what a car designed for Spongebob Squarepants might look like, and then took up the challenge to build it. Ironically the driver of this particular vehicle did look like a cartoon character.

Sebastian, my vegetarian personal trainer, drives a Kia Hymen when not riding his electric bicycle. His sister, Rainbow, drives a Nissan Slide with a synchromatic gearbox. Amanda drives a Prius, which is entirely predictable, while of course Ali, my gardener, drives the Smart Car with a rifle rack on the rear window, adapted to carry his gardening tools. He’s proud to declare he always shows up with his hoes.

One of my Vancouver members, Lenni, is originally from Alaska, and proudly tells of her mother having driven a Ford LTD wagon. This vehicle, with a 7.5 litre engine has the dubious distinction of being capable of hitting a moose, killing it, and then being able to transport it back to the trailor park for butchering. I can’t help thinking life in Alaska holds wonders I am pleased not to have either witnessed or shared.

Instead I think I’ll go and get Sylvester to change the fluids in my Buick Vagina.

Have a lovely week.

Fiona

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

A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square.

Now that summer is marching down the garden path toward my back gate and fall is introducing herself at the front door  I turn to ideas about putting together a new wardrobe. I was pondering this, and putting a few thoughts together on Pinterest (  https://www.pinterest.ca/fionadobson22/  ) just this morning. As I did so Sebastian came into my kitchen looking quite disturbed.

As you know, I like to think of myself as a caring soul, a sort of Florence Nightingale in yoga pants. Sacrifice and humility are my two middle names. Yes, that seems a very fitting description. I applied a little lipstick and asked Sebastian to share his deepest concerns with me.

“My sister, Rainbow, has taken off,” he said, sounding quite disturbed.

Continue reading “A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square.”

Would you like to stuff my beaver?

Hi,

This morning, just as I was emerging from my morning yoga session, I was surprised to see Max (my neighbour’s son), huffing and puffing and coming in my rear entrance, a bundle of excited youthful anticipation. He was hurrying up the garden path, as I pulled up my yoga pants, and adjusted my hair.

Sebastian, my personal trainer, was as surprised as I was myself. He likes to come early to stretch me, as I’m sure my regular members are aware.

“Fiona,” said Max, bursting into my kitchen. “Can I take a look at your beaver?”

As you probably know, yesterday was Canada Day. It’s a tradition in Huckleberry Close, to come over to my house on Canada Day, and look at my beaver – a beautiful piece of taxidermy –  the centrepiece of the Canada Day party I always throw on the Canada Day Weekend, to celebrate us throwing off the shackles of oppressive colonialism before Canada declared itself free of tyrannical rule from London. Actually, that’s not really true. We just all sort of agreed that we’d have a new flag and continue to be the friends we’ve always been. No one was being either tyrannical or oppressive, but it’s a good excuse for a party. And the centre piece of the party is my beaver, a stuffed animal that has become something of a mascot over the years. It’s traditional for us to enjoy some lovely Canadian Wines, from British Columbia (a place that is neither British nor Columbian), swap hockey stories and talk about Zamboni’s while apologizing to one another. We all eat poutine and make fun of people we love from Newfoundland, and generally act in an understated but quietly superior way, while listening to The Tragically Hip, 54 40, Five Man Electrical Band, Rush and many other great Canadian bands.

I told Max, “Darling, calm down. My beaver is open to everyone, just give me a moment to prepare it! You’ll get your turn. Just don’t get too excited. It’s Canada Day, you’ll have to pace yourself.”

We have so many wonderful traditions in Canada. Being Canadian means so many wonderful things to all the peoples of our country. We love our diversity, our first nations people and our democracy, which we value enough to protect.

If Max gets over excited, of course, it will be over before it’s really started. It can happen to us all. I handed him a pot of maple syrup and suggested he put it out on the garden table while I went down to get the noble beast, and then he could examine my beaver to his hearts content.

This year’s wine of choice is Quill, a distinctive Rose from Vancouver Island, which is quite delightful and goes rather well with the short skirt I’m wearing. It’s light, a little cheeky and subtly stimulating.  The wine’s not bad either. I know we’ll be toasting Sylvester, who has decided to commit to a course learning to drive a Zamboni at the local hockey arena. I must get things ready for the party shortly, so this will be a short email.

It may come as a surprise to some of you, but Marjory (my delightful lesbian neighbor) got her hand stuck in my beaver recently while trying to replace some of the stuffing. She was wedged right in there! I know what you’re thinking, what was she of all people doing, jammed up there? Well, she does fancy herself as something of an amateur taxidermist. Strange woman. She’s from Alaska, you know. Eventually we got her hand out, but ever since she’s been acting most strangely. She’s said on more than one occasion that she wishes her hands were a little smaller. I can’t think why! It’s almost as though she’s never heard of lube. I understand it softens the skin nicely and taxidermists swear by it.

I hurried down to the basement and found my beaver, then carried it up to my garden table, already bathed in warm summer sunshine. In the sunlight I could see it has begun to look a little tired. I suppose one can not be surprised. After all, my beaver has been fingered by many over the passing years. And yet, surprisingly it continues to put a contented smile on many of my friends faces. However, I do believe a beaver should be well groomed and well presented. I will speak to my local taxidermist and have him restuff it later this month.

With this in mind I resolved to make a Canada Day offer to all my friends and members. Anyone who emails me with the words in the subject line “Fiona, I’ll stuff your beaver!” before the end of Canada Day weekend, July 3rd, can have a free membership to My Little Black Book. This is worth $2.95 a month for crossdressing gurls, and $4.95 a month to Admirers. So, get your digits moving and I can help get some more members in there.

Have a wonderful Canada day weekend.

😊

Fiona

Clothes Maketh The Man – Part 54 is out.

I am sending this as I hurry off to my optician for some replacement glasses. Just this morning I noticed Sebastian, my personal trainer, has some new frames and how good they looked on him.

“Sebastian,” I said while working on some core exercises, “I must say those new glasses do look good on you.”

“Oh thank you, Fiona,” he replied standing over me.

“Yes,” I said breathlessly, “I do like it when a man splashes out on a nice pair.”

But that’s not the main reason I’m writing. For those of you following Andrea’s adventures in Clothes Maketh The Man, you’ll be thrilled to know that Part 54 is now out. Andrea finds herself slipping deeper into trouble all the time. And now she’s mucking out a stable with a pair of trannies and a pitchfork. Enjoy part 54 of Clothes Maketh The Man HERE.

You can find all parts of Clothes Maketh The Man HERE.

Have a lovely week,

🙂

Fiona


Let’s try to be accepting of others.

Ali has been here in Canada for several years now, having arrived as a refugee along with his lovely family from Syria. As I have mentioned before he was a botany professor in Damascus University prior to the war there, and is now my gardener. His knowledge of fauna and flora really is most extensive.

Arriving from a country such as Syria one does have to check some of the experiences and baggage that we bring, at the door – as it were. Jeff, who looks after immigration at our local airport, says that most immigrants are all too ready to let go of the past and look forward to their new life in Canada. And many, like Ali, bring some wonderful talents to our communities, regardless of what they may have done in the past. Like many of us, Ali does not talk much about his former life. I imagine it could be quite dark but have had few glimpses of what it may have entailed. It’s really none of my business.

Jeff takes great pride in telling me that he checks the passports of all immigrants arriving at the airport (other than when he’s on his lunch break or picking up his kids from school). He says that Canada accepts the poor, the disadvantaged and the impotent. He then rather sheepishly adds that unfortunately, while the poor and disadvantaged regularly show up, unfortunately the impotent couldn’t come.

Ali’s language skills, however, appear to still require some polish. As I sat drinking my morning tea in my kitchen Ali joined me and flicked through the local paper that had just been delivered.  I had just finished my daily yoga workout and was still in my pink leggings and powder blue sports bra, that’s so good for working out.

He took his tea black and was quite absorbed in the paper.

“It says here,” he said at length, ”that the city is going to have a ‘pilot racoon cull’.”

“It’s about time,” I said, knowing how mischievous the racoon population of Huckleberry Close can be. “They’re too clever by half.”

Ali frowned as he read the article.

“It’s just that you wouldn’t think they could do that,” he replied.

“What do you mean?” I said sensing something amiss.

Sipping his tea Ali continued reading without looking up and turned the page.  “You’d think they’d fail the eye test.  I did.”

I sometimes wonder about Ali and his command of English. It is, however, better than my command of his obscure dialect of Arabic. I’d given up my attempts to learn his language after failing to master such a simple phrase as “Is it safe to drink the water in this hospital?”

We all of us have our own particular perspective that brings a bit of ourselves to all we observe. As a crossdressing non-binary person, when I see a Zebra I do not take offence at the black and white nature of the creature. Ali, on the other hand, sees a majestic beast of the African plains while Sebastian sees a walking barcode. He then goes on to pretend to scan it in much the same way as the checkout girl in the corner store, and adds, “At least it’s easy to keep track of them.”

We all of us have our divergent ways of looking at things and each is equally correct. As trans people I think we have to learn acceptance of others with views that don’t align with our own. They, like us, are travelling their own journey. As people who are often misunderstood, it is up to us to try to understand others – the good, the bad and the ugly – with kindness and without judgement.

But that is not the main reason I’ve written to you this morning.  I’ve been adding new content to some of my programs.  They are now even better value than ever. Be sure to join if you’ve not done so already. I always do my very best for my lovely members.

😊

Fiona



I’ve been having a little trouble with my colon!

I’ve been having some dreadful trouble with my colon lately. Now, I know what you’re thinking, but ever since Max changed some of the settings on my computer keyboard I just keep getting a problem with it! I think he reset the layout to the French keyboard!

In the cold wintery weather we’re having I’m going to remind all my girls the importance of moisturizing your skin. Using a nice aloe cream helps, and you can find them at any pharmacy or health food store. It keeps you looking fresh and really helps your skin. You can also find some here.

I am busily chatting with a few of the suppliers who sometimes give some great discounts to my members. It’s always nice to nail down an agreement with a company that provides great clothes and makeup for my members. Be sure to check out my shopping list here.

I can see Ali working on my bush, in the garden – he’s saying something about that not being the only thing that going to get nailed. Ali’s English is very selectively intermittent.

Now, if you’re not already a member I suggest you do join up soon, whether you choose to as a Good Gurl, for just $1 a month, or one of the more extensive programs.

Oh, I have to go now… I can see Auntie Kittie heading up the drive, I’d better hide the sherry!

Have a lovely week and be sure to let me know how you’re getting on.

Ciao.

Fiona

I had to beat off a load of journalists!

The winter months are always fun in an advertising agency. Even more so for myself, as I have several skiing related accounts. It was this that brought me, Bernard my photographer and Sebastian, my personal trainer to the beautiful mountain village of Whistler in Beautiful British Columbia this week.

I found myself here partly to oversee the photography for a ski manufacturer’s latest high end products, and also for a resort client located in the Village. As part of the week’s activity I found myself skiing with a small group of journalists, all eager to test the manufacturers new products.

Before the main days skiing, I had the opportunity to brush up my skills a little with Bernard. There I was, in my tight ski suit, stretching and preparing.

In the comfort of my hotel room, Sebastian helped me refine my style and posture for fast downhill skiing. Sebastian can be very useful on a trip like this. You’d be surprised what he gets up to.

“That’s it,” he said, pressing his hand into the small of my back. “Lean forward and stick your bum out.”

“Now bend your legs, and flatten your back.”

I found the position strangely familiar.

“If you move your hips from side to side,” he said standing behind me, “you’ll find it feel even more fluid.” Sebastian seemed quite breathless.

“Yes,” I gasped feeling my body getting into the exercise. “It’s a very enjoyable sensation,” I said as I moved my body languidly back and forth.

Now, I know you’ll find this hard to believe, but all this stretching and preparation seemed to get Sebastian quite excited. I could swear he poked me in the back with his ski pole!

As it happened I did very well on the slopes. At the end of the week of skiing we had a race down the mountain from the peak, a very exciting informal race. I thought I might be beaten by a number of the boys, but as you might guess, try as they might – and through no small effort on my part –  I managed to beat them off and cross the finish line leading by a head.

After that it was up to the hot tub to watch the snow falling on the mountain in the twighlight.

But that’s not the main reason I’m writing. I thought I’d send you a quick reminder that with Spring just around the corner it’s time to start looking for some new Spring colors. This year putting together easy combinations of colors in underwear, makeup and outwear should be every CD’s priority. When was the last time you matched your eyeshadow to your favorite lingerie? Well, todays a great day to start planning ahead.

Got any great Spring outfit ideas? Get on the website and share them!

🙂

Fiona

I need some new eyeshadow for my third eye!

Auntie Kittie’s niece Megan tells me her Auntie says she looks good in a kilt. What do you think?

“Push your bum back a bit,” said Sebastian, maneuvering behind me.

“Oh, Sebastian,” I said, perspiration dripping from my brow.

“That’s better,” he said pressing his hand into the small of my back.

As you probably know, Sebastian is my personal trainer. We often do yoga sessions together. Some of these yoga positions are really quite challenging. As we move into the cooler weather I do find I like to lift up the intensity of my exercise regime. And Sebastian is a treasure, I really do enjoy getting it up with him. My yoga is very important to me.

I also find that with the cooler weather I like to dress in suitably warmer clothes, and the opportunity to explore new styles is a source of great joy. I enjoy wearing a kilt, and know there are many other members, some who cannot overtly dress in femme clothing but can wear a kilt from time to time.  A kilt is a very good way to gradually introduce more androgynous clothing into your repertoire.

This week, as an exercise perhaps you can check out a few ideas for kilts online – here’s a start.

I also loved the tights below.  They have a nice tartan imprint. I do have some distant Scottish heritage and used to spend every Christmas on the Isle Of Skye. I even got lost in Dunvegan Castle once as a child. But one thing I do enjoy is watching the Highland Games events. I have always thought Bernard would be rather good at tossing the caber. I understand he comes from Essex, in England, which some of my English friends have told me is full of tossers.

Bernard tells me that it sometimes gets so cold in the north of Canada that there’s so many icicles hanging from his sporran that you’d think he brought along his own wind chimes. What a sight that must be.

Here in Canada we believe in an inclusive approach to life. This is exemplified by my good friend Justin, who – when he’s not busy running the country – is very happy to swing by and take a walk on the beach nearby. And I have to say, he doesn’t have bad legs. He’s asked me once or twice if I can spare Sebastian for a yoga class, but so far we’ve been a bit too busy and our schedules haven’t been quite aligned. Perhaps he’ll join us for a class here in Huckleberry Close as things slow down around Christmas. At least, he promised he would. We’ll see.

When not running the country Justin enjoys a little yoga, and wants to borrow Sebastian, my personal trainer.

As we approach Halloween I have a ghostly story coming out late this month which I think you might enjoy. You may want to keep an eye open for The Living Doll on http://FionaDobson.com . There’s also The Foreshore Light and The Apartment, for those of you who like the ghostly theme of Halloween, both of which are already available. If you’d like to hear Jules Sanderson reading The Foreshore Light you can do so here. Be sure to check them out when you have a moment. I think I’ve given you enough there to keep you up at night. It’s not often that you find ghostly stories suitable for crossdressers, but I do try to present a broad cross section of content for my lovely members. As ever, Clothes Maketh The Man, now with episode 50 out, is doing wonderfully. I do hope you’re enjoying it.

If you’re not already a member be sure to check out the membership options here – http://FionaDobson.com/my-programs

Have a lovely week,

😊

Fiona

Max is teabagging Sebastian in my basement!

I arrived home on Saturday morning to a house full of guests. Max, my next door neighbours 20 year old son, had let himself in as he often does these days, Sebastian had arrived early for my yoga session, and as I walked into the kitchen, there was Sylvester clutching a twelve incher in his hand.

“That looks very meaty,” I said as Sylvester stood there looking proud.

“You know how much I love a good sub,” replied Sylvester. “Salami, tomato, olives… this is twelve inches of perfection.

If I had a quarter for every time I’d heard that, I thought quietly to myself. Actually, I’d only have a dollar twenty five, but all the same…

I slipped into a light skirt and a tee shirt, to be ready for yoga, and then asked Sylvester if he’d like to join Sebastian and I on the yoga mats. I should say that it’s rather like watching a fridge try to do a downward dog, when Sylvester does yoga. The will is there, though.

“Where on earth are Max and Sebastian,” I asked Sylvester wondering if perhaps Max would be joining us on the yoha mats.

“Max is teabagging in the basement,” said Sylvester.

“Really,” I said a little surprised.

“Yes. I had no idea Max knew so much about tea. He’s showing Sebastian how to mix a few different tea types and make a few tea bags. He has some black tea, oil of bergamot, vanilla and all sorts of things.”

“Oh,” I said, somewhat relieved. “How creative. We should see if they want to do yoga with us.”

However, that’s not the main reason I am writing to you. I’m sure that you have experienced, the same as many of us, feelings of embarrassment following dressing. Well, you’ll be pleased to know you don’t need to. In the video below I have prepared a short hypnosis for you that will help relieve those feelings. Have a listen and see how you get along.

Have a great week, and remember – “Accept yourself as you are, and create yourself as you wish.”

🙂

Fiona