i was pretty exhausted today after so much running around and cleaning the last few days. Poor Sir Raven looks like i feel when she arrives home, later than usual for a Saturday evening. i took her bag and coat, poured her wine and water, as always. She came home with more plants from her library. Some of the patrons are babysitting plants too, which is wonderful. After she has dinner and is settled, i ask if i can clean her boots. i evidently missed my “get pretty for Daddy” alarm on my cell, set to remind me an hour before she is off work, so i have time to do my make-up, straighten the house, meditate, or run any last minute errands. i wouldn’t want to come home to a woman who looked like a mess. i figure the goodliest Master doesn’t either. Today, i simply pulled my hair back in a loose bun at the base of my neck so i wouldn’t get it into the saddle soap. When Sir Raven places her foot on my shoulder so i can finish each boot, a dirty mess is left behind all over me. i smile, though i am intimately acquainted with the filth we walk on in our city streets. “You are a dirty girl. Pour some more wine for me and get in the shower.” I laughed. New York is the real dirty girl around here.
Since i know she was having a hard week, i arrived at the door one day wearing my apron (thanks, Karida) and a pair of leather cuffs. i have been practicing with them for awhile because i thought it would please her if i could find a way to not immediately have a panic attack whenever i was restrained. Being kidnapped and chained to a bed for two years can do that to a girl. i was determined to work through it. At first, i couldn’t wear them longer than a few minutes, even though they weren’t locked on. i had to think of female energy, the Goddess, anything to calm me enough to meditate. She bust out laughing when she came home to me in the apron and cuffs, clearly enjoying it and the surprise. “You know,” she says, “it’s not really working through it until they are locked. It’s not as if you are chained down to the bed after i throw you down.” “No,” i had agreed smiling, “but i could be.” “Go and get my wine, dirty girl” she tries to sound serious, but laughs instead.
This year, on the 29th, i celebrated my new life starting after leaving the shelter. This year, i asked an artist if she would do something special for Sir Raven and i. It’s an idea Sir Raven had but i lack the ability to do. i thought it was a bit of poetic justice to ask Delia Day to do the sketch. i imagine she could understand a thing or two about actually feeling dirty inside and about the courage it takes to feel the sun again.