Hey, everybody. You were probably wondering where I went. Truth be told, I was so busy the last couple of weeks I didn’t have time to blog.
“Yeah, right,” you’re thinking. “It’s not that she didn’t have time to blog. She just got lazy.”
No, really! It was an amazingly busy couple of weeks.
Well, the last week was busy. The previous week ...
Okay, last week ... what a week! I started a ponyplay group in Denver and held the first meeting at my Master’s house, I took a long orientation class at a local therapeutic horse riding center in the bitter cold, I worked with my son to put together his annual science project presentation (and as he predicted, we found out that potatoes conduct electricity just a bit better than lemons! Hooray! *giggles*), I attended a half-day conference on women’s health issues, and I did my normal chores and duties and spent time with my kids, all while working to recover from a cold.
Woo hoo!!! *bounces and wags my tail*
The previous week (and a bit of last week), I was knocked out for several days pretty much by one of the worst colds I've had in years. I was sleeping 14-hour days to recover. It was intense. The cold had actually been building up all of the week before last, sapping my mental energy each night more and more.
Fortunately, Master had on hand copies of two great (and very appropriately educational) PBS reality shows. One was called "The 1900 House", and it was about a modern family trying to live as a middle-class family in a Victorian London home. Wow, the mom and oldest daughter were whiny. The other was called "The Manor House", and it focused on a well-to-do family living as Edwardian aristocrats while modern "normal" people took on the roles of their servants -- and BOY did the servants have a hard job of it! I'll talk more about it all later, but I'll say it inspired everybody in Master's household and enlightened us a bit! *grins*
Anyway, those shows allowed me to recover a bit while watching hours and hours of television, and after all that's happened the last couple of weeks, it’s not just the blogging that I'm behind in now. I got behind in a lot of stuff, so much that I was starting to have emotional breakdowns because I had so much to do and couldn’t figure out how to handle it all.
Well, the emotional overload started happening a couple of days ago, actually.
Saturday night, I was dog tired from a long day. I had gotten up early to go to a conference regarding feminine medical issues in town (It’s a weird thing to walk into a fancy hotel and to have a well-dressed woman waiting for you there, and the first thing she asks is, “Are you here for the breast conference?” *chuckles* Okay, in all seriousness, my mom died of breast cancer, and I’m at risk, so it’s not really that frivolous a topic at heart to me). While there I talked with a lot of people about a lot of stuff, and talked to my former surgeon (who was in town for the conference) about some facial procedures he had done on me in the past, and after he examined me for an hour he told me he wants me to come back to his clinic in Chicago when I have a chance for some light follow-up work. After I came back home, I told Master and M’Lady, and they didn’t bat an eyelash - M’Lady turned to Master and said, “I guess it’s time to start looking for a good super-saver flight for her to get to Chicago soon.” To them, getting me to Chicago for some medical work is part of their responsibilities to me -- they’re so incredibly caring about me, it’s unreal! It was just another thing to remind me how blessed I am to have them as my Owners!
After I got back that afternoon, after doing the day’s normal chores, I cooked an unexpectedly time-consuming dinner of Chinese stir fry that took about three hours total of chopping and mixing and cooking and serving and then cleaning all the dishes, and I was so brain dead afterward I could hardly think.
Well, Master had told me he had planned on going to the Sanctuary BDSM club that night, and I suddenly remembered and came down to him, my shirt still wet and my pants still stained with oil, and my hair a mess, and I asked him if he wanted me to go. And he said he had expected me to and asked why I wouldn’t, and I said I was tired but I hesitated because I didn’t want to disappoint Master, and I asked whether he wanted me to stay home, and he ordered me to get some rest upstairs. See, I had thought it was just another normal, typical night, and I’d spend most of it standing at his side or kneeling at his feet while he talked with other people at the club. As you’ve probably guessed, when we go to the club usually, it’s for Master’s benefit, and I’m just there as his companion and servant. I usually don’t mind, because that’s my role in life, but Saturday night, for once, I happened to be unusually tired, so much I didn’t want to go.
I did as he said, but I couldn’t sleep. I just tossed and turned and kept thinking about how lonely I was and how much I wanted to be with Master, even for a little while before he left.
And I went downstairs and laid on the couch near Master until he was about to leave, and then I followed him and saw … a set of boxes of his equipment near the door, including the violet wand, which I’ve been dying for him to use on me since before he took possession of me.
And in shock I asked Master if he was bringing all that to the club for me, and he told me he had planned to.
And it hit me that he had brought all of the toys for me.
And I lost it.
Since the day Master took Ownership of me, I’ve been waiting for him to play with me like that. To take me to the dungeon at the club and do things to me. To tie me up. To electrify me. To have fun with me. To interact with me.
And the night that finally was going to happen, I was too tired.
I couldn’t take it. Kneeled on the floor, I burst out weeping uncontrollably, nearly screaming.
In response, Master announced he would be back in a moment, and he went upstairs. To me, that meant for me to stay there until he returned.
And I kneeled there. Sometimes in silence. Sometimes quietly crying. Sometimes bawling at the top of my lungs. Most of the time, my head was on the floor, my eyes shielded from the world, in wait for his return.
I didn’t know what was going on. I thought he might be near me, watching me. I thought maybe he had left out of the house at one point.
But I stayed there, in obedience. To me, that was my place. I was a slave, and I exist to serve him. And he had told me to wait for him there, and that’s what I did, unmoving except to shift in place.
Finally, after more than an hour, I became a bit concerned because this was very unusual for Master, and I very nervously went upstairs to check on him.
It turns out he was in his room, angry. He had gotten into an argument with M’Lady, and he had forgotten that he had said he was going to go back downstairs, and that I was to wait for him.
Eventually we both calmed down, and we both went to bed feeling generally okay.
But basically, Saturday night sucked. Master stayed home, and I ruined his evening. I fucked up the night for both of us.
And that’s what life has been like lately.
Oh, it hasn’t sucked all the time. Actually, last week was quite good in most ways. But it was very busy and very stressful. More on that in my next blog.
Sunday, by the way, I was still overly emotional. I hadn’t gotten over it yet. I went to Master before going out to my kids and told Master I was having a small problem on my computer when I tried to open some Web sites. As a result, Master wound up chewing me out for most of an hour about the computer and saying I hadn’t been respectful of the fact it’s a business computer attached the house network, and he chewed me out for my disobeying and neglecting of some of his recent instructions, and I wound up making him very angry yet again. He told me he was going to get on the computer I’ve been using and find old files to delete to clear up space, and even though he said he wouldn’t delete my personal data, I got scared and nervous and upset and started bawling again.
Eventually, Master ordered me to leave to see my kids, and by then I was an hour late, and when I got there, I spent the first hour or so just crying my eyes out in the kitchen at my ex’s house while the kids played in the backyard, being very considerate in letting me pour out my emotions to my ex, who fortunately for me was quite caring and understanding that day.
My kids wanted to see me, and I wanted to see them, but I had to calm down first, and slowly I did.
And what did my kids do when they saw I was doing okay?
They walked in to the room together, held hands, and said in unison (clearly having practiced it), “We love you very much, and we want you to feel better and be happy again.”
And then they hugged me, and I hugged them so very tightly, crying again, but with tears of joy and love.
Damn, I miss them so much. It hurts so very much to not be able to have them in my home anymore. But that’s part of my new life, and it’s something I accept as necessary for my position, whether I like it or not.
Still, though, some days it hurts so much to not have them with me anymore.
The rest of the day with my kids was pretty darn good, by the way. I helped them with homework, and we did lots of crafts. My daughter and son both made and painted wooden catapults, and I made a decorative wooden birdhouse (that I’m pretty proud of. *grins*). And we all did some leather crafts using a great starter kit I got last week, with my son making a leather-embossed flower, and my daughter making a very cute cat.
And I tucked my son into bed and laid down with him in the dark for awhile. The ceiling of his room is covered with glow-in-the-dark stars and constellations and meteors and planets, and being him felt like we were huddled together outside under the night sky. It was so beautiful I couldn’t help but cry again, but in a good way.
Anyway … leather work is pretty fun, to be honest. My dad taught it to me when I was a girl growing up on a Texas ranch, and I think I’d love to make a purse sometime soon. Something I can show off at the club and be proud of. But that’s for later. As is further writing. For now, bedtime. The only way I’ll be able to do the Herculean task of catching up on this blog is to take it in small chunks, and for now, this one is done.
So … as always …
La kajira!
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Monday, March 1, 2010
Friday, November 6, 2009
Day 89 - On Getting Ten Needles Stuck Into My Right Breast and Enjoying It, On Getting My Life (and My Novel Writing) Back On Track, On Having A Great Day with My Kids, On Having Fantastic Sex with Mistress, and On Master Getting Possessive of Me
(Note: I'm posting this one without editing it, as I'm a bit too tired for that at the moment. Hopefully this makes sense in the time until I'm able to get back online and check it over while being more awake. *grins*)
Needles.
Ten of them were stuck into my right breast tonight in the area surrounding my aerola.
To be more precise, they were slid in, going into the skin and out. In some situations, they went in the skin, out again, over a needle, and then back in.
And it was all done for fun.
Master and I met at the Sanctuary BDSM club tonight after I had a great afternoon with my kids. The first thing we did was watch an okay presentation on spanking by some guy (who's apparently somewhat famous for being a good spanker) demonstrate on his extremely attractive (and quite a bit younger) assistant. Spanking is, to me, punishment. It can be pleasurable if done as punishment, but, for me, I don't like getting spanked in and of itself. As I've mentioned before, I'm a bit of a masochist but not a pain slut, meaning I sometimes get a kick out of being punished or out of my Owner unexpectedly hurting me for no good reason. In contrast, planned pain doesn't excite me, so the presentation on spanking wasn't a huge thrill. Master didn't find it exciting, either.
Afterward, however, we were talking with Master G and his slave, who is wonderful and also happens to be blind. (Master is great friends with Master G, and there's a good chance we're going to have Thanksgiving dinner at their house, by the way.)
Well, to my surprise, Master G suddenly told me that my Master had told him I wanted to experiment with needles, and he wondered if I wanted to give it a try tonight. I responded with a mix of excitement and nervousness that came out as silly anxiety, which concerned Master G until he realized it was just my way of expressing my desire to do something exciting like that.
He used surgical needles, which he explained come in six different diameters. Tonight he only used the two smallest, which was enough for me. Well, at first. After he put ten in me, I was starting to feel rather nice about life and the universe, and I asked Master if he could keep putting them in. Master, however, said ten was enough for my first time because I'd be driving home.
See, the reason people put needles in themselves is for the endorphin rush which happens after they pierce the skin.
I kept the needles in my skin for awhile and wandered around, watching other people and talking a bit. Eventually, though, my movement caused one to start to come loose, so Master had Master G remove all of them.
And that's when my endorphin rush really kicked in. I could still function and have a good conversation, but I was buzzing quite well in a way that took a good half hour to an hour to fully resolve itself.
During my rush I felt my wolf side starting to come out rather strongly, and I realized finally why Native Americans use piercing as a way of achieving shamanic ecstacy for trance states.
Speaking of shamanic work, I moved my shamanic tools over from Mistress's house and examined them last night and today. I've been feeling rather strongly toward getting back into my shamanic practicing and meditation.
It's weird how my life took such a strange turn when I got hooked on SecondLife early last year. Before then, I exercised regularly, I meditated almost every day, I experienced shamanic trance journeys as a wolf several times a week, and I was hard at work on my novel.
Now that I'm with Master, all of those things may be back in my life on a regular basis. I'm already exercising again. I journeyed with another shaman online recently (and we visited our cubs and ... oh, heck. Now trying to explain that in this post would be a bit too much, so I'll save it for next time).
And my novel's coming along again. After writing 12 chapters, I have only three to go. And yet, I stopped at that point more than a year ago because I wasn't happy with the way the novel was going, and I lost my drive. Tonight, however, my editor and shamanic friend (more about him later) looked over what I had written the last few days, and his suggestions have totally revitalized the end of the novel in such a way that ... I think the novel will be ready for publishing on Kindle within six months. *bounces in excitement*
Oh, and, yeah, it's a female werewolf novel. In case you hadn't already guessed. *chuckles*
It would be remarkably nice if the novel does well enough to provide me an income independent of Master's providing for me just so I could set up a college fund for my kids. That's the biggest concern I have regarding being so dependent on Master -- the fact that I've got nothing to fall back on, and neither does my family, if things go sour here for some reason.
Master keeps telling me he's nuts about me and has long-term plans for me, which brings me a lot of comfort. He is, however, naturally already getting jealous of the time I'm not here, as I am his property. This week I didn't see that much of him, to be honest. Tuesday I spent several hours with Mistress. Wednesday I was with my kids and ...
Okay ... the kids. Fantastic day on Wednesday. I did everything with them, starting at picking them up from school and ending only after kissing my dear daughter goodnight. Most of the day was with my daughter, actually. Highlights include us making Indian Fry Bread together (which everybody thought was extremely yummy) to having my daughter read to me about Annie Oakley, to giving my daughter her bath and reading a bedtime story to her, and finally to making snacks by shaping soft cheese into prey animals and sprinkling them with shredded cheese for "fur" (with a mouse for my daughterwho believes she's a cat and a sheep for my son, who felt very in touch with Dragon spirit that night).
Oh, and, yeah, my son speaks to spirits, like I do. And my daughter is very certain she's a cat in a human body, just like I was when I was her age (except it wasn't a cat for me). I talked with Alice for awhile Wednesday to make sure she knows that she's not alone, and that I understand and believe her entirely when she says she feels spiritually she's not human. And I talked to my son a very long time about how he's been so disruptive lately, and how I need to help him learn to meditate because possible the energy from Dragon spirit is overwhelming him and getting out of control in his life, causing him to do things that have gotten him suspended from school lately (such as kicking another student and arguing with a teacher).
Oh, I'm sure a lot of you think I'm a total flake after reading that last paragraph, and so be it. It's about time I finally went over my unusual spiritual experiences and beliefs, but I'll save that for my next posting. Those beliefs did lead me to being a slave, so they're actually pertinent to this whole blog, so I figure they're definitely worth talking about here.
Anyway, so I hardly saw Master on Wednesday, and on Thursday I spent most of the day with Mistress.
*grins*
Remember I said I expected the bed to get ruffled at her house? Boy, did it ever!!! At one point we were talking casually, and I half jokingly said, "I could really use some sex," and she ordered me into the bedroom and ... we ... wow! It was the best damn fucking I've had in a LONG time (if not ever). It began with a wonderful little dilator, and then Mistress got a cock for me and told me to ride it on top of her, and after I came hard (screaming so loud I'm shocked the neighbors didn't complain), I licked and sucked Mistress's clitty for a long time, and, well ... that's just a brief description of some of what we did. And as good as the sex was, the cuddling afterward was wonderfully beautiful. I felt I could have laid with her forever and just fallen asleep joyfully in her arms.
Technically, however, I came over there to clean up her house and pack up my car, which I did. But Mistress and I really wanted to see each other, so I really took my time doing the work.
*sighs*
I hated leaving Mistress, but I was getting a nagging feeling that Master wanted me back. Sure enough, he did. When I returned, I could tell he clearly didn't expect me to spend all day over at Mistress's house, but instead just thought I'd be gone a few hours.
I need to be with Master. But I want to be with Mistress.
I wish I could be with Mistress more. And maybe, if we're lucky, I will be.
But with me being with my kids one and a half days a week, I don't think Master will want me to spend much time with Mistress, even though Mistress said he agreed she would be my partial owner.
We'll see.
La kajira!
Needles.
Ten of them were stuck into my right breast tonight in the area surrounding my aerola.
To be more precise, they were slid in, going into the skin and out. In some situations, they went in the skin, out again, over a needle, and then back in.
And it was all done for fun.
Master and I met at the Sanctuary BDSM club tonight after I had a great afternoon with my kids. The first thing we did was watch an okay presentation on spanking by some guy (who's apparently somewhat famous for being a good spanker) demonstrate on his extremely attractive (and quite a bit younger) assistant. Spanking is, to me, punishment. It can be pleasurable if done as punishment, but, for me, I don't like getting spanked in and of itself. As I've mentioned before, I'm a bit of a masochist but not a pain slut, meaning I sometimes get a kick out of being punished or out of my Owner unexpectedly hurting me for no good reason. In contrast, planned pain doesn't excite me, so the presentation on spanking wasn't a huge thrill. Master didn't find it exciting, either.
Afterward, however, we were talking with Master G and his slave, who is wonderful and also happens to be blind. (Master is great friends with Master G, and there's a good chance we're going to have Thanksgiving dinner at their house, by the way.)
Well, to my surprise, Master G suddenly told me that my Master had told him I wanted to experiment with needles, and he wondered if I wanted to give it a try tonight. I responded with a mix of excitement and nervousness that came out as silly anxiety, which concerned Master G until he realized it was just my way of expressing my desire to do something exciting like that.
He used surgical needles, which he explained come in six different diameters. Tonight he only used the two smallest, which was enough for me. Well, at first. After he put ten in me, I was starting to feel rather nice about life and the universe, and I asked Master if he could keep putting them in. Master, however, said ten was enough for my first time because I'd be driving home.
See, the reason people put needles in themselves is for the endorphin rush which happens after they pierce the skin.
I kept the needles in my skin for awhile and wandered around, watching other people and talking a bit. Eventually, though, my movement caused one to start to come loose, so Master had Master G remove all of them.
And that's when my endorphin rush really kicked in. I could still function and have a good conversation, but I was buzzing quite well in a way that took a good half hour to an hour to fully resolve itself.
During my rush I felt my wolf side starting to come out rather strongly, and I realized finally why Native Americans use piercing as a way of achieving shamanic ecstacy for trance states.
Speaking of shamanic work, I moved my shamanic tools over from Mistress's house and examined them last night and today. I've been feeling rather strongly toward getting back into my shamanic practicing and meditation.
It's weird how my life took such a strange turn when I got hooked on SecondLife early last year. Before then, I exercised regularly, I meditated almost every day, I experienced shamanic trance journeys as a wolf several times a week, and I was hard at work on my novel.
Now that I'm with Master, all of those things may be back in my life on a regular basis. I'm already exercising again. I journeyed with another shaman online recently (and we visited our cubs and ... oh, heck. Now trying to explain that in this post would be a bit too much, so I'll save it for next time).
And my novel's coming along again. After writing 12 chapters, I have only three to go. And yet, I stopped at that point more than a year ago because I wasn't happy with the way the novel was going, and I lost my drive. Tonight, however, my editor and shamanic friend (more about him later) looked over what I had written the last few days, and his suggestions have totally revitalized the end of the novel in such a way that ... I think the novel will be ready for publishing on Kindle within six months. *bounces in excitement*
Oh, and, yeah, it's a female werewolf novel. In case you hadn't already guessed. *chuckles*
It would be remarkably nice if the novel does well enough to provide me an income independent of Master's providing for me just so I could set up a college fund for my kids. That's the biggest concern I have regarding being so dependent on Master -- the fact that I've got nothing to fall back on, and neither does my family, if things go sour here for some reason.
Master keeps telling me he's nuts about me and has long-term plans for me, which brings me a lot of comfort. He is, however, naturally already getting jealous of the time I'm not here, as I am his property. This week I didn't see that much of him, to be honest. Tuesday I spent several hours with Mistress. Wednesday I was with my kids and ...
Okay ... the kids. Fantastic day on Wednesday. I did everything with them, starting at picking them up from school and ending only after kissing my dear daughter goodnight. Most of the day was with my daughter, actually. Highlights include us making Indian Fry Bread together (which everybody thought was extremely yummy) to having my daughter read to me about Annie Oakley, to giving my daughter her bath and reading a bedtime story to her, and finally to making snacks by shaping soft cheese into prey animals and sprinkling them with shredded cheese for "fur" (with a mouse for my daughterwho believes she's a cat and a sheep for my son, who felt very in touch with Dragon spirit that night).
Oh, and, yeah, my son speaks to spirits, like I do. And my daughter is very certain she's a cat in a human body, just like I was when I was her age (except it wasn't a cat for me). I talked with Alice for awhile Wednesday to make sure she knows that she's not alone, and that I understand and believe her entirely when she says she feels spiritually she's not human. And I talked to my son a very long time about how he's been so disruptive lately, and how I need to help him learn to meditate because possible the energy from Dragon spirit is overwhelming him and getting out of control in his life, causing him to do things that have gotten him suspended from school lately (such as kicking another student and arguing with a teacher).
Oh, I'm sure a lot of you think I'm a total flake after reading that last paragraph, and so be it. It's about time I finally went over my unusual spiritual experiences and beliefs, but I'll save that for my next posting. Those beliefs did lead me to being a slave, so they're actually pertinent to this whole blog, so I figure they're definitely worth talking about here.
Anyway, so I hardly saw Master on Wednesday, and on Thursday I spent most of the day with Mistress.
*grins*
Remember I said I expected the bed to get ruffled at her house? Boy, did it ever!!! At one point we were talking casually, and I half jokingly said, "I could really use some sex," and she ordered me into the bedroom and ... we ... wow! It was the best damn fucking I've had in a LONG time (if not ever). It began with a wonderful little dilator, and then Mistress got a cock for me and told me to ride it on top of her, and after I came hard (screaming so loud I'm shocked the neighbors didn't complain), I licked and sucked Mistress's clitty for a long time, and, well ... that's just a brief description of some of what we did. And as good as the sex was, the cuddling afterward was wonderfully beautiful. I felt I could have laid with her forever and just fallen asleep joyfully in her arms.
Technically, however, I came over there to clean up her house and pack up my car, which I did. But Mistress and I really wanted to see each other, so I really took my time doing the work.
*sighs*
I hated leaving Mistress, but I was getting a nagging feeling that Master wanted me back. Sure enough, he did. When I returned, I could tell he clearly didn't expect me to spend all day over at Mistress's house, but instead just thought I'd be gone a few hours.
I need to be with Master. But I want to be with Mistress.
I wish I could be with Mistress more. And maybe, if we're lucky, I will be.
But with me being with my kids one and a half days a week, I don't think Master will want me to spend much time with Mistress, even though Mistress said he agreed she would be my partial owner.
We'll see.
La kajira!
Friday, October 9, 2009
Day 61 - On Celebrating Leif Ericsson Day with My Kids, Learning About Being a Slave (Thrall) in Viking Days, and Getting a Little Creepy in my Ex's Kitchen
(Yes, this is a little break from my usual logs, but I had so much fun I wanted to record it in detail! *bounces*)
Happy Leif Ericsson Day!!!
No, I’m not Swedish or, as far as I know, descended from Vikings. However, on the way to see my kids on yesterday, my ex called, and we decided to put off my visit a day so that I could celebrate use Leif Ericsson day as an excuse to teach the kids about history – particularly, the Vikings.
And we had a blast! Particularly, my daughter and I did, because my son was off most of the evening with his uncle, who was playing a concert (he’s a professional jazz musician). After spending the morning (and last night) researching Vikings, I went over with a bag of stuff.
Having been told to expect a fun day, my daughter dressed up in a medieval dress, which we figured was accurate because Vikings were traders and could have gotten it somewhere. I, on the other hand, do have a Viking-style tunic that I sewed by hand years ago when I was involved in The Society for Creative Anachronism, along with a cape and a bag of hand-painted wooden rune discs, which I used for divination. And … all of that is in storage somewhere, so I found the best I could find in my closet (being a rustic-looking loose shirt, a thick skirt and sandals), and all was fine anyway. *chuckles*
I taught my daughter exciting stuff about Vikings, and their way of life, and the fact they were explorers, and how they were largely farmers or fishermen, and … I left out the fact that the major trade good of Vikings was slaves (my ex and I mutually agreed my daughter was too young to learn about such things). I researched that part pretty well last night, just out of curiosity, and it’s a fascinating topic … especially because I’m a slave, naturally. The way Vikings treated slaves was, in many ways, like the way Goreans treat slaves in the novels except … Vikings were (relatively) nicer, and they weren’t misogynistic. Men, women and children were all taken as slaves in the raids. And having a female slave serve as a bed partner wasn’t very common, by the way. Slaves (which were called “thralls”) pretty much did the backbreaking jobs the free people didn’t want to do. Slaves were, indeed, treated like livestock, in that they could be killed by anybody for any reason, and if somebody was found to have wrongfully killed a slave, the only penalty would be they would have to pay the slave’s owner the fair market price that the slave was worth. Slaves could also own some things, and although it wasn’t much, it theoretically allowed them to save up to buy their own freedom, which was a huge affair. Oh, and the mark of being a slave was the same thing as in Gor – they were forced to wear collars. Like I said, an interesting topic.
After teaching her about Leif Ericsson and his adventures, I taught her about how Viking girls were expected to not only learn womanly skills (such as making clothing and cooking), but also needed to know a lot of the manly skills (such as managing the household farm and mending furniture) because they needed to keep things going when the men were off raiding and pillaging. Oh, and I also taught her about Leif’s half-sister Freydis, who was known as a bit off a warrior, and I told my daughter how Viking girls, if they were strong and wanted to do it, could become warriors and fight alongside the men. Can you tell I’m encouraging my daughter to grow up to be a “strong, brave and smart girl”? (That’s our little catchphrase, by the way. *grins*)
After curling up on the couch together while I read her several of the myths about Norse Goddesses (concentrating on Freya, my favorite of them all), we got to the best part … the food! Sardines and herring and flatbread and apples and nuts and lots of cheese! Yum! My daughter loves fish of all types, and so she gobbled up the sardines and herring like nobody’s business! She says it’s her cat nature – she believes she’s a cat in a human body – and I’m not somebody to doubt her.
Next I got out the board and pieces for a Viking game to teach her, but my son came home about then and interrupted what was happening, and that was okay because I think my daughter had about absorbed all she could.
Turning to my son, I taught him everything I had taught his sister, but with him we discussed slaves, because he had already heard about that a bit in school. It’s weird to think that, in Viking life, my son would be old enough to be considered an adult, and to go out raiding and fighting in huge warships. *bites her lip*
Afterward, my son carved a really spooky pumpkin, and all of us transformed the kitchen into a “haunted house,” so that when my ex walked downstairs, all the lights suddenly went out, and my daughter (in a black cat costume) rubbed against my ex’s legs and meowed loudly and creepily, and then I started cackling menacingly and my son made his pumpkin float eerily all around the room. It was a hit! *giggles*
The Viking celebration isn’t over yet, for Sunday I’ll be returning, and we’ll all make Viking helmets and shields and battle axes, and then we’ll go out exploring new worlds, looking for adventure and even elves! (which is what, I’ve heard, Leif thought Indians were when he first met them).
Wish us luck!!!
*bounces happily*
Happy Leif Ericsson Day!!!
No, I’m not Swedish or, as far as I know, descended from Vikings. However, on the way to see my kids on yesterday, my ex called, and we decided to put off my visit a day so that I could celebrate use Leif Ericsson day as an excuse to teach the kids about history – particularly, the Vikings.
And we had a blast! Particularly, my daughter and I did, because my son was off most of the evening with his uncle, who was playing a concert (he’s a professional jazz musician). After spending the morning (and last night) researching Vikings, I went over with a bag of stuff.
Having been told to expect a fun day, my daughter dressed up in a medieval dress, which we figured was accurate because Vikings were traders and could have gotten it somewhere. I, on the other hand, do have a Viking-style tunic that I sewed by hand years ago when I was involved in The Society for Creative Anachronism, along with a cape and a bag of hand-painted wooden rune discs, which I used for divination. And … all of that is in storage somewhere, so I found the best I could find in my closet (being a rustic-looking loose shirt, a thick skirt and sandals), and all was fine anyway. *chuckles*
I taught my daughter exciting stuff about Vikings, and their way of life, and the fact they were explorers, and how they were largely farmers or fishermen, and … I left out the fact that the major trade good of Vikings was slaves (my ex and I mutually agreed my daughter was too young to learn about such things). I researched that part pretty well last night, just out of curiosity, and it’s a fascinating topic … especially because I’m a slave, naturally. The way Vikings treated slaves was, in many ways, like the way Goreans treat slaves in the novels except … Vikings were (relatively) nicer, and they weren’t misogynistic. Men, women and children were all taken as slaves in the raids. And having a female slave serve as a bed partner wasn’t very common, by the way. Slaves (which were called “thralls”) pretty much did the backbreaking jobs the free people didn’t want to do. Slaves were, indeed, treated like livestock, in that they could be killed by anybody for any reason, and if somebody was found to have wrongfully killed a slave, the only penalty would be they would have to pay the slave’s owner the fair market price that the slave was worth. Slaves could also own some things, and although it wasn’t much, it theoretically allowed them to save up to buy their own freedom, which was a huge affair. Oh, and the mark of being a slave was the same thing as in Gor – they were forced to wear collars. Like I said, an interesting topic.
After teaching her about Leif Ericsson and his adventures, I taught her about how Viking girls were expected to not only learn womanly skills (such as making clothing and cooking), but also needed to know a lot of the manly skills (such as managing the household farm and mending furniture) because they needed to keep things going when the men were off raiding and pillaging. Oh, and I also taught her about Leif’s half-sister Freydis, who was known as a bit off a warrior, and I told my daughter how Viking girls, if they were strong and wanted to do it, could become warriors and fight alongside the men. Can you tell I’m encouraging my daughter to grow up to be a “strong, brave and smart girl”? (That’s our little catchphrase, by the way. *grins*)
After curling up on the couch together while I read her several of the myths about Norse Goddesses (concentrating on Freya, my favorite of them all), we got to the best part … the food! Sardines and herring and flatbread and apples and nuts and lots of cheese! Yum! My daughter loves fish of all types, and so she gobbled up the sardines and herring like nobody’s business! She says it’s her cat nature – she believes she’s a cat in a human body – and I’m not somebody to doubt her.
Next I got out the board and pieces for a Viking game to teach her, but my son came home about then and interrupted what was happening, and that was okay because I think my daughter had about absorbed all she could.
Turning to my son, I taught him everything I had taught his sister, but with him we discussed slaves, because he had already heard about that a bit in school. It’s weird to think that, in Viking life, my son would be old enough to be considered an adult, and to go out raiding and fighting in huge warships. *bites her lip*
Afterward, my son carved a really spooky pumpkin, and all of us transformed the kitchen into a “haunted house,” so that when my ex walked downstairs, all the lights suddenly went out, and my daughter (in a black cat costume) rubbed against my ex’s legs and meowed loudly and creepily, and then I started cackling menacingly and my son made his pumpkin float eerily all around the room. It was a hit! *giggles*
The Viking celebration isn’t over yet, for Sunday I’ll be returning, and we’ll all make Viking helmets and shields and battle axes, and then we’ll go out exploring new worlds, looking for adventure and even elves! (which is what, I’ve heard, Leif thought Indians were when he first met them).
Wish us luck!!!
*bounces happily*
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
