Out to Fleet Farm

Yesterday after I finished my blog I did some stuff around the house, unclipping that ankle connecting carabiner to climb the stairs, because I don't really need to fall and break my head (earlier I had come down the stairs on my butt, carefully, one step at a time). 

When everything was set, bread in the breadmaker, laundry in the washer, dogs all rounded up inside, I put on all my winter things over my cuffs, collar and leash.  A turtle neck shirt to hide the collar and leash.  Muck boots hide ankles cuffs perfectly.  Excess  leash goes in my jeans pocket.  Wrist cuffs are hidden by a large down parka.  

Secret winter kinky doings in Wisconsin is easy!  
Nobody would suspect. 
I hoped.   
Possibly if they saw a bulge at my neck under my shirt they'd assume I was wearing some medical device that they wouldn't be rude enough to ask about.

I did my errands that way, and decided my empty feeling may have been a touch of cabin fever.  It is a real thing here.  I hadn't actually been away from the house/farm in days, and then only to the grocery store.  On Monday I had attempted to go to a knitting club, but it was too cold and nobody else showed up.  So the last real outing was Saturday at the munch.

By the time I got to Fleet Farm I was soaking up and worshiping the sun. It may have been 0 degrees and a stiff wind was blowing, but the sun was out, and as long I as was out of the wind it felt good.  I took that sun energy and imagined myself drawing it all in and placing it in my chest, where it shone out of me and gave me the happiest feelings.   On the one hand I was grounded by the ankle cuffs rubbing under my boots (I had to stop and adjust one when it got too painful), and the collar weighing heavily, but on the other I was lifted up and brightened by taking in all that sunshine.

It was a little bizarre, but whatever works is what I say.

I have another blog to write on when Master got home...