I'm never where I want to be
And liberty she pirouette
When I think that I am free
Watched by empty silhouettes
Who close their eyes but still can see
No one taught them etiquette
I will show another me
We held our breath, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. Tuesday Master returned to His office outside the home. It was Thursday before the rest of the house returned to any semblance of normal.
The floors were filthy from the snow, paw prints, foot prints, mud, rain so donning the work clothing and apron, the floor was scrubbed. Years of trying to find the proper tool to take the drudgery out of doing the floors, and finally admitting the only way to really properly clean them is on your hands and knees. There is something about humbling yourself and admitting the Shark device, the Swiffer and all the gadgets just aren't as good as good old fashioned elbow grease. Naturally, just as the floor was clean, the rains picked up and those (Shark or Swiffer) are perfect for spot cleaning. It was already beyond the mid-week point and there was much to do before Shabbat rolled around again.
The floors were filthy from the snow, paw prints, foot prints, mud, rain so donning the work clothing and apron, the floor was scrubbed. Years of trying to find the proper tool to take the drudgery out of doing the floors, and finally admitting the only way to really properly clean them is on your hands and knees. There is something about humbling yourself and admitting the Shark device, the Swiffer and all the gadgets just aren't as good as good old fashioned elbow grease. Naturally, just as the floor was clean, the rains picked up and those (Shark or Swiffer) are perfect for spot cleaning. It was already beyond the mid-week point and there was much to do before Shabbat rolled around again.
Valentines day Dinner was steak for Master, with mushrooms in a rosemary, shallot and garlic port reduction with some roasted asparagus and salad. The kids had heart-shaped pizza (whole wheat crust, red sauce, cheese with bell peppers). Dessert was very simple just a chocolate bundt cake (made from scratch), sprinkled with a bit of powdered sugar.
Bright and early yesterday morning right after waking Master, He announced we were going out for the day, He'd already arranged for the kids a sitter and in a short time, we were on the road. It's rare that we go anywhere without the children, so mouse was enjoying the silence of the car and with Master behind the wheel she could also enjoy the passing winter scenery. Passing trees that looked like sticks in a painting by Bob Ross. Even Master noticed it and remarked that mouse seemed almost unusually quiet. Smiling back at Him and reassured Him that she was just enjoying the drive.
Part of her wanted to explain it further but He responded with, "I understand." and she felt there was nothing needed to add to that. Like an oasis in the desert, we came to the destination an Indian gaming casino. While sill inside the car, Master slipped mouse a $100 dollar bill and then escorted her inside. Master, a table man, made His way to the craps table, while mouse went to walk around the variety of slot machines, until one spoke to her. Lady luck was on her side, so after nearly tripling her money, mouse walked around a little and checked on Master at the Crap table. He acknowledged her, but the look He gave said that she shouldn't pester Him aside from bringing Him a beverage.
Carefully putting aside the original $100 with another $100 beside it, mouse played a little with the remaining money. The casino had become quite busy by then, and the machines had stopped speaking to her, or maybe it became so loud she couldn't hear them. Playing a little here and there she stayed and walked, checking again on Master, occasionally dropping a little into a machine but her luck had definitely turned. Master on the other hand, seemed to be doing well. At one point when she brought Him some water, He offered her some more money (assuming she had lost) and she politely refused.
A few more hours of now mostly walking she was feeling very cramped, the smell of smoke was annoying her (which is almost odd since she still smokes on occasion cigarettes). Snippets of conversation could be heard, like a rapid flipping of channels on TV and much of it political. Outside she walked through the manicured garden area that surrounded the casino, finding some measure of solace from the noisy interior. There was a nervousness though that couldn't be shook away, a feeling that this was wrong to be so far from Master. Inside the noise and smoke she became lost in the throng of people until she found Master, who was cashing in His chips.
After making sure mouse had no tickets remaining to cash in, we departed, His hand steadying her and guiding her through the now very busy place. Only in the car did He ask how she did.
"Won two hundred Master, it was fun for a while."
"And how much did you put back slave?" Master asked with a grin.
"Still have $250 give or take," mouse replied, but admitted she did put aside the $200 but wasn't sure how much of the other hundred was left, since she did gamble a little and had bought Him a few bottles of water and a snack for Him.
He remarked that wasn't bad, and said that she could keep the money for the upcoming grocery shopping trip. Once a month we do a larger shopping trip to get all the expensive meats and such for the month, so mouse thanked Him. It made sense really, why hand Him the money just to be handed it back? He did check to make sure later but that was to be expected, since she wasn't sure anyway about the final amount. Master also never offered how He had done, but we did stop on the way home at a nice restaurant.
It was dark by the time we returned home but the house was alive with activity and noise but soon settled and Master did check the purse and found mouse was close in her estimations. As we relaxed a little, mouse on the floor beside Him on the sofa, there was a moment of reflection. In the past she might have tried to hide the money or been at the worst careless with what she won. Sometimes when gambling you just blow through a hundred dollars like that, even with the most conservative betting. Other times -- that $100 can last for 5 hours and she might even leave with a little money. No big wins but enough to just keep playing. It's fun. The other side was the way mouse used to be, the side that would hide that money, not telling Master about it. Sure if He checked her wallet, He would see that she lied to Him. If He had, He never said.
It's odd the way things used to be, the ideals that mouse took for granted as being part of the game that was being played. The game taught to her by hours of endless television and other women she'd come to know. The idea that certain lies didn't count in a relationship. The feedback loop of female thinking was standardly applied to more than a few topics. The idea that men were something to be convinced or cajoled into thinking they held some control when it truth they were impotent to the women in their lives. Like, in the past when she'd pass by Master at the Craps table, and He'd just hand her money figuring she was unlucky that day, when the reality was quite different and was adding the extra cash given by Him to her "winnings" but said nothing about it and if asked she'd lie.
The more you lie, the easier it is to lie about anything -- until you're caught up in the net of your own creation that was spun by your own illusions. Then, you may be forced to take a mental inventory of your misdeeds and flawed thinking -- but usually that only happens if you're caught. This isn't to suggest that Men are instantly perfect and without any blame all of the time, but mouse, for now, is focusing on herself. Really she can't know if Master has taken any advantage of her or used His male wiles to alter her thinking the way she's tried to do in the distant past with Him? Somehow she doesn't really think so.
So, here we are again a Monday, and it's a holiday.
He remarked that wasn't bad, and said that she could keep the money for the upcoming grocery shopping trip. Once a month we do a larger shopping trip to get all the expensive meats and such for the month, so mouse thanked Him. It made sense really, why hand Him the money just to be handed it back? He did check to make sure later but that was to be expected, since she wasn't sure anyway about the final amount. Master also never offered how He had done, but we did stop on the way home at a nice restaurant.
It was dark by the time we returned home but the house was alive with activity and noise but soon settled and Master did check the purse and found mouse was close in her estimations. As we relaxed a little, mouse on the floor beside Him on the sofa, there was a moment of reflection. In the past she might have tried to hide the money or been at the worst careless with what she won. Sometimes when gambling you just blow through a hundred dollars like that, even with the most conservative betting. Other times -- that $100 can last for 5 hours and she might even leave with a little money. No big wins but enough to just keep playing. It's fun. The other side was the way mouse used to be, the side that would hide that money, not telling Master about it. Sure if He checked her wallet, He would see that she lied to Him. If He had, He never said.
It's odd the way things used to be, the ideals that mouse took for granted as being part of the game that was being played. The game taught to her by hours of endless television and other women she'd come to know. The idea that certain lies didn't count in a relationship. The feedback loop of female thinking was standardly applied to more than a few topics. The idea that men were something to be convinced or cajoled into thinking they held some control when it truth they were impotent to the women in their lives. Like, in the past when she'd pass by Master at the Craps table, and He'd just hand her money figuring she was unlucky that day, when the reality was quite different and was adding the extra cash given by Him to her "winnings" but said nothing about it and if asked she'd lie.
The more you lie, the easier it is to lie about anything -- until you're caught up in the net of your own creation that was spun by your own illusions. Then, you may be forced to take a mental inventory of your misdeeds and flawed thinking -- but usually that only happens if you're caught. This isn't to suggest that Men are instantly perfect and without any blame all of the time, but mouse, for now, is focusing on herself. Really she can't know if Master has taken any advantage of her or used His male wiles to alter her thinking the way she's tried to do in the distant past with Him? Somehow she doesn't really think so.
So, here we are again a Monday, and it's a holiday.
Hi Mouse,
ReplyDeleteSounds like you had a wonderful time between the casino and a lovely dinner out. Very interesting reflection on how things have changed and lies and manipulation in relationships. I think we have probably all seen this, or worse at times.
Hope you had a wonderful President's day.
Hugs
Roz