Home is where the WHAT is?

Ahhh. Home sweet home.

After a week in the camper with the Innocent Bystander and 3 parrots, this place seems HUGE. And it is so BRIGHT in here. The campground we stayed at was beautiful, full of these great towering pines and big sprawling oaks that the squirrels rushed around in collecting last minute acorns. But all those trees coupled with our electrical problems (and yes, closed blinds for all that hot monkey lovin' we're so prone to spontaneously engage in) made for a very dark and dreary atmosphere in our little nest o' feathers n' poop. The IB and I make the best of it, but it has to be hard on the birdies, as they are used to our nice sunny picture window and sliding glass door overlooking the river. I can stretch here and not touch anything (*grumbles* except that fucking chandelier). I don't have to scale a mountain to get to the bathroom in the middle of the night. And it sure is nice to be able to take a crap in my own terlet with my little dugout and a cup of coffee and a good book without having to worry about anyone banging on the closed and locked so yes it's fucking occupied door. Sweet.

And speaking of sweet and home-can I get a HELL YEAH for exhausted sex? There has always been something special to me about coming home from a camping trip all tired and sore and too worn out to unpack. We fall into bed and almost as an afterthought just kind of melt together. It may be what seems like hours of long, languorous stroking and touching and tasting, but is usually more like six pokes and a squirt-and sometimes that is all you need. I'm all for gymnastics and sex helmets and trying something new now and then, but I am also just fine with two minutes of just getting down to BUSINESS, BOY.

And may I just say, for the record-blogging can really spice up the ole sex life. I think it may be that the Innocent Bystander is more aware of just how often I actually think about sex and just how nastay his wifely person actually is, but we really seem to be getting jiggy with it quite a bit more this hitch than we have lately. In fact, he even turned me down three times on this trip-once at a gas pump in Auburn, Alabama (what?? we were in a CAMPER-who'da known for SURE, now, really?) once at the High Museum of Art in Atlanta (nice big private bathroom) and once at the campground bath house-not even to save time showering! I'd best shut up now-I'm going to end up hexing myself.

See ya'll tomorrow-I'm going to go enjoy this BEAUTIFUL day! Hope you do too!