Bootsandheels...My blogs, and poetry

[Bootsandheels]

For those of you who follow my blog on the Dash site...here is the newest one!
Thanks for your ongoing support! Just scroll up to "Femme Rescued"

[Bootsandheels]

Started…
(October, 2, 2011…Sitting at my computer…the sun just going down now at 8:30 PM…hummingbirds buzz at the feeder outside the open window 4’ away, a cool sweet breeze floats in with a smell of sea air.)
Finished…
(December 18, 2011 Sunset now at 4:45 PM, chilly and wet, snuggled on the couch in my green robe and slippers with Aisha & Leo on either side of me. Thinking about my past year here on the farm, moving in two weeks time into the next chapter of my now single-again-life…)

I think most of you by now know that over this past year I took up with a goat wrangling butch. I’m sure that this simple statement conjures up a variety of ideas, and believe me I have heard all of the jokes, and been made fun of around this website on more than one occasion…it’s all good, and very much expected. But let me tell you a little bit about what my life has really been like over this past year and a few of the priceless things I’ve had the priviledge to learn while being here on these 7 acres of emerald green on this mystical Isle known as Vashon, WA.

I’ve learned that I can hold a newly weaned baby goat on my lap to comfort it upon arrival from being taken from it’s mother.
They snuggle and snore just like a puppy, and cuddle into your warmth like a baby. This is hands down one of the most precious experiences I’ve had so far-my butch in one chair and me facing hym, just having our usual end of the day conversation, but each of us holding a very sleepy baby goat that has finally stopped crying, suckling on our fingers.

I’ve learned so much about goats…I was dreading it, but really they are quite fascinating. They are dog-smart, have 4 stomachs, eat the sharpest thorns FIRST on blackberries, thistles, etc. They can die if they eat anything in the rhododendron family (which is an indigenous plant here in the NW-go figure) and must be treated immediately with charcoal, and fluids. They have absolutely NO gag reflex to be able to get the poisonous plant out of their systems…so of course the first thing they eat when they escape-which they do A LOT is go for the poisonous plants. So contrary to popular belief, goats cannot eat just anything.
I’ve learned that if you hear a goat grinding it’s teeth, it means it’s in a lot of pain…which comes immediately after the above said carnage of Rhodie plants. I’ve learned that there are many different breeds of goats…and my least favorite was the La Mancha because they have absolutely the smallest ears, and if I had to rename their breed, I would call them ET goats…they look like ET. I rather like them now, because the aforementioned baby goats were La Mancha’s…and something that strange looking in baby form just melts my femme heart…

One of my jobs this past year was to help feed and care for ALL the rescue animals on Frog Holler Farm…yep that’s the name…because frogs are prolific here in the summer months, and that’s what the folks call this area of Vashon.
I have fed, watered, chased, been chased by,knocked over and doctored up about 130 goats, 2 horses, 1-1800lb Jersey steer with BIG horns,
1 shorthorn dairy cow (rescued from the veal factory), 3 self shedding sheep called Katahdins, 2 gay male pot-bellied pigs…(yes you read that right and don’t ask please), and 3 dogs-1 crazy border collie who herds the goats, 1 rescued German Shepherd guard dog, and 1 rescued toy dog who you cannot ever get really mad at for peeing on the floor occasionally and who’s name is Leo (as in “The Lion”) for taking on the Jersey steer his second day on the farm…

I have been swarmed by bees and stung repeatedly after losing my footing trying to turn on a rusty irrigation pipe, (the nest was in the ground-who knew! Picture a femme running for her life across an open field tearing off her clothing…oh ya…hot stuff! LOL)
I have had my thumb almost bitten off by a pot bellied pig were it not for my acrylic nails, and am pretty sure I have mud on every pair of my boots and heels and probably won’t ever be able to get it all off…and if you are wondering…NO I don’t wear those to feed them all…I have a nice butch pair of Bogg boots for work around here…and when those are on my feet…you better believe I get down and dirty but in 30 mins flat can be dressed to the 9’s and girly once again… I am still one of the very few women that I have seen on this island that wears any heels at all…and I anything over a 3” heel gets comments galore…too funny.

I will miss the farm but not the mud and muck, I will miss all the amazing funny animals, but not their equally amazing smells, and antics that almost did me in at times, I will miss the goat wrangling butch who helped me heal with her amazing unconditional love through the toughest breakup in my life on record…But not her way of life.

We meet the people we are supposed to meet and have in our lives for a reason so its said…and I believe this to be true. Some we fall for, some we dearly love for just a season, and some we still scratch our head over wondering… what the hell was that?

Lessons…Experiences…Gifts. Perhaps it’s just my age now, but I see each person, each experience as precious and important. Like a chocolate sundae, I don’t want to miss any of it and want to lick the bowl to make sure I get every last bit of it all…because I don’t want to miss it…
These things that are so priceless for me to learn right now…and sometimes I don’t know it until I get ready to move on to the next adventure that I was immensely blessed to have experienced any of what I just walked through…at all.

Boots

©lkfox 2011

[GPS]

very nice writing

[Bootsandheels]

Originally Posted by GPS

very nice writing

Thank you so much GPS! I appreciate you stopping by to read and comment!

[Bootsandheels]

This past weekend I decided to visit my best friend and her 15 yr old son down in Portland where I used to live just blocks away. I barely made it down due to a snowstorm in the area, and ended up staying most of this week. What a blast…the kind of mini vacation you dream about…getting snowed in unexpectedly and having to tell the boss…uh…I can’t make it home safely. Which was in fact the truth, but I felt like a little kid fibbing the whole time.

Many of you who have read my stuff know that I have a son who is now 18 and who has been shunning me for being gay. It’s been excruciating at times, and always creates a sort of aching black hole in my heart where I thought only love could grow for him.

Max is my best friend’s youngest boy, a big lumbering bear of a young man whom I of course affectionately call Bear…he moves like one, acts like one but has an amazing wisdom and intuition about life. When Max speaks, you want to listen. He is the typical geek teen cookie monster and Dr. Phil with a splash of Eckart Tolle thrown in…he is simply…a very old soul in a testosterone fueled Bearish boyish body. He goes to a special technical school that can finally keep up with his intellect and keep his brain stimulated and challenged, while affording him valuable friendships and affirmation of who and what he is-a brilliant boy child soon to be a man…a large bear of a man with an equally bearish heart and mind.

Last night snow fell on Portland, and here in the rainy NW that is a godsend. It doesn’t happen often, and when the torrential rains of liquid sunshine finally…finally agree to bow down before the snow goddess and transform into the more solid graceful and beautiful form of fragile snowflakes…magic ensues and is reflected like diamond light on water. Everyone seems to inherently understand this spell won’t last but a few moments, hours or even a day or so…and so…we go.

We go out and play..no talking allowed…only screams of delight, yipping, skipping, throwing, smashing, rolling, slipping and sliding in snow…the snow-snow-let-it-snow-I’m-off-of-work-and-out-of-school so-let-it-snow-and-let-me-go…kind of snow.

Max had just left the toilet seat up AGAIN…and I had just done the fanny fall almost into the water…*&%$@!!! I marched to the foot of the stairs and started yelling up to his room..”Young man…when your Auntie is in town you WILL PUT THAT F*ING SEAT DOWN!!!”…his mom quietly smiled and said behind me…”He’s outside-in the snow…” and then laughed at me as I got my snowboots on, still steamed up and ready for the second volley of my toilet bowl litany.

I stepped out on the front porch and saw Max just peeking around the corner of the house so I started again…”Young man….blah blah blah blah!!!! Suddenly I saw that he had not ONE snow ball but an entire ARM FULL of snowballs…he started lobbing them at me one at a time giggling and enjoying the fact that I kept going with my toilet bowl speech the entire time he was pelting me in the face and chest with his snowball arsenal. Now who looked stupid… I finally came too on about the 10th snowball and it suddenly occurred to me that perhaps I should stoop down and start making snowballs myself..perhaps this was the way to get through to a 15 yr old about his toilet lid habits…pelt it into him! It was ON from “Young man!!!! and kept going until we were soaking wet, giggling hysterically and happier than we had a right to be…

I was laughing with a young man-boy…not far from my son’s age and it felt like heaven…I was a human mother unit again…I was me…celebrating some precious moments with another mother’s son…and I had to be pelted by many snowballs to wake up to the fact that my heart was still ok..still beating full of love and ALIVE…

My heart has felt like a beautiful ice sculpture when I think of my son…I’ve done this so it doesn’t hurt so much as the days, weeks, months and the almost two years now that have gone by without word or contact from him. It’s how I’ve coped.

But another son melted my heart that night…with his snowballs and giggles of delight…and yes…a toilet seat. Max said he heard every word…but I still think all he really will remember is how many snowballs it took to get me to stop talking…and PLAY!!!

Boots
Copyright LKF 2012

[Bootsandheels]

*Bump* *Bump* Read above!

[Bootsandheels]

For those who have been waiting... *Bump* *Bump* Read above!

[rustedrims]

I liked reading and waiting for more..

[Bootsandheels]

After 5 years...I felt inspired to revive my "Femme" series... Hope you enjoy...


So do you really exist? I’m beginning to wonder to the point of possibly giving up on this idea of a happy healthy butch-femme partnership.

No, I’m not bitter or angry at all, but I am a questioning disillusioned femme at the moment.

There is NO question that I am FEMME and always will be FEMME from the inside out from the second I was born.

I know I have had at least one lifetime as a femme because it just came all too easily to me when I came out as a late bloomer in my 40’s and met my first butch love. I knew I was HOME, I knew who I was and always had been. The key fit in the lock of the sacred femme vault and I was happily unlocked and undone.

She would say to me…how do you KNOW how to do this? How do you get me so well? It’s like you have always been a femme…yep.

I have and always will be.

I have an affinity for all things Butch-Femme and slipped into it all so easily like the vintage black lace slip I found on Ebay that year. When she saw it she gasped and said…where…did you….find…THAT?!

I have never been more feminine than when I came out and rediscovered who I really am…who I have always been.

So where are you? Are you still out there waiting for me or am I too old fashioned and too conservative for this day and age of the rapidly changing face of the magic dynamic?

Does it still exist? Please tell me it does…

My black lace slip is shoved into a drawer lost in a sea of other negligee, tired of the long wait and so am I.

Boots 9/16/17

[hopelessromantic69]

Originally Posted by Bootsandheels

After 5 years...I felt inspired to revive my "Femme" series... Hope you enjoy...


So do you really exist? I’m beginning to wonder to the point of possibly giving up on this idea of a happy healthy butch-femme partnership.

No, I’m not bitter or angry at all, but I am a questioning disillusioned femme at the moment.

There is NO question that I am FEMME and always will be FEMME from the inside out from the second I was born.

I know I have had at least one lifetime as a femme because it just came all too easily to me when I came out as a late bloomer in my 40’s and met my first butch love. I knew I was HOME, I knew who I was and always had been. The key fit in the lock of the sacred femme vault and I was happily unlocked and undone.

She would say to me…how do you KNOW how to do this? How do you get me so well? It’s like you have always been a femme…yep.

I have and always will be.

I have an affinity for all things Butch-Femme and slipped into it all so easily like the vintage black lace slip I found on Ebay that year. When she saw it she gasped and said…where…did you….find…THAT?!

I have never been more feminine than when I came out and rediscovered who I really am…who I have always been.

So where are you? Are you still out there waiting for me or am I too old fashioned and too conservative for this day and age of the rapidly changing face of the magic dynamic?

Does it still exist? Please tell me it does…

My black lace slip is shoved into a drawer lost in a sea of other negligee, tired of the long wait and so am I.

Boots 9/16/17

You will find her or she you big sis, BUT she must be worthy of your inner beauty, passion, big heart, your gifts and beauty!

[Sunshine]

I cried, held my breath, laughed and my heart... I don't know, it just was all over the place. You love deeply and there's nothing wrong with that. Once I started reading, I couldn't stop and I am very glad you're writing again. I look forward to reading all you have to share.

I enjoyed your poem's very much.

As a Scorpio, I see myself in you. You're a natural thinker. Growth comes naturally to you on many levels. You are perfect, just the way you are and don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise.

You just shine and be your beautiful self! She is out there, that much I know.

Thank you Bootsandheels and I will always ask the Universe to give you what you wish for. We all deserve to be happy, secure and loved.

[Bootsandheels]

Originally Posted by Sunshine

I cried, held my breath, laughed and my heart... I don't know, it just was all over the place. You love deeply and there's nothing wrong with that. Once I started reading, I couldn't stop and I am very glad you're writing again. I look forward to reading all you have to share.

I enjoyed your poem's very much.

As a Scorpio, I see myself in you. You're a natural thinker. Growth comes naturally to you on many levels. You are perfect, just the way you are and don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise.

You just shine and be your beautiful self! She is out there, that much I know.

Thank you Bootsandheels and I will always ask the Universe to give you what you wish for. We all deserve to be happy, secure and loved.

Thank you so much for your very kind words and encouragement! I will keep writing! 😊💖

[Bootsandheels]

It’s been a wonderful Thanksgiving…as I lay here in my bed I hear soft snores out in my small living room as 3 men sleep peacefully, their bellies full. Three years ago we all shared an apartment together for about a year. We were family.

One is my best friend who is FTM, next is his 23 year old son who dreams of transitioning some day and finally a 22 year old adopted son who is now homeless and still battling alcoholism.

We are missing one more boy…the second son of my best friend who is off on an adventure with his boyfriend in Colorado, and finally my beloved german shepherd heart dog who was incredibly dear to all of us.

I am surrounded by boy energy and I am loving every minute of it…the stinky socks, the hair that needs a good cut, the clothes that need washing…bring it.

I love it and I miss it so much.

I am a fierce femme and mother of a 24 year old son whom I have not seen for 7.5 years because of his religious beliefs. Holidays can be especially excruciating. And yet…I have been given this incredible gift again and again of boy energy…young man energy flowing in over the years to help me not feel so lost.

For a few brief hours in my small apartment bursting with blankets and blow up beds, I am found. I am validated for exactly who I am and appreciated for my nurturing, my mothering and my complete and utter femme-ness in every way, shape and form.

I am grateful, I am thankful, and I am blessed…to know what it is to be lost and truly found.

[Bootsandheels]

*Bump* for fans of the blog Thank you so much for the rep, PM's, support and encouragement! Hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving!

[hopelessromantic69]

Originally Posted by Bootsandheels

It’s been a wonderful Thanksgiving…as I lay here in my bed I hear soft snores out in my small living room as 3 men sleep peacefully, their bellies full. Three years ago we all shared an apartment together for about a year. We were family.

One is my best friend who is FTM, next is his 23 year old son who dreams of transitioning some day and finally a 22 year old adopted son who is now homeless and still battling alcoholism.

We are missing one more boy…the second son of my best friend who is off on an adventure with his boyfriend in Colorado, and finally my beloved german shepherd heart dog who was incredibly dear to all of us.

I am surrounded by boy energy and I am loving every minute of it…the stinky socks, the hair that needs a good cut, the clothes that need washing…bring it.

I love it and I miss it so much.

I am a fierce femme and mother of a 24 year old son whom I have not seen for 7.5 years because of his religious beliefs. Holidays can be especially excruciating. And yet…I have been given this incredible gift again and again of boy energy…young man energy flowing in over the years to help me not feel so lost.

For a few brief hours in my small apartment bursting with blankets and blow up beds, I am found. I am validated for exactly who I am and appreciated for my nurturing, my mothering and my complete and utter femme-ness in every way, shape and form.

I am grateful, I am thankful, and I am blessed…to know what it is to be lost and truly found.

Thank you for hosting us all. Next year I will have a place big enough to hold Thanksgiving at my place. Hopefully the woman that owns my heart will be there also. Love ya big sis.

[Bootsandheels]

“So if your husband gave this to you would you like it?” He asked me…as he held the small diamond engagement set in his nervous rough skinned fingers.
I answered very sincerely…”I would be over the moon if he brought this home for me!” He smiled a little smirk of a smile and seemed visibly relieved and quite pleased with himself. I marveled how easy it was for me to answer like I was this straight woman that was waiting on him in my new holiday job at a retail jewelry store.

Ah…my invisibility cloak becomes useful and necessary once again!
I have learned over the years how to use it wisely now, when to bring it out to protect myself or my sexuality when I don’t feel like going through the long involved process of describing “Femme” to people when all they will really hear is “Lipstick Lesbian” or when I need to fit in like the chameleon I get to be as a very straight appearing queer femme as I like to call myself.

It used to be so painful and frustrating at first when I came out 14 years ago.
I wanted so badly to be SEEN by my own community and they just…couldn’t and sometimes even when they knew I was out…wouldn’t acknowledge me for who and what I had worked so damn hard to become and just be. Didn’t they know I what I had given up? My son, got divorced, lost a 9 year job, lost my dog…the list goes on but it was worth every single loss to find myself…and my true essence as FEMME.

It’s not so frustrating now because I get it…and I know exactly how to work it…this incredible gift I’ve been given as an invisible femme.
I can be anyone I damn well please. I can fit in when I need to, and I can surprise the hell out of cute butches that I may come across or work with and make them feel special by saying…”Wow it’s great to know family works here” or my personal favorite…”Nice to see a butch working here” as I sashay away knowing their mouth is hanging open behind me LOL.

I have also been able to protect my own butch when needed and soften a hard glare or two that is directed at us both. It’s a powerful gift and a tool that I do not take for granted or use lightly.

I thought what a great job…like a lot of femmes, I love sparkly things and I happen to know quite a bit about diamonds courtesy of my grandma Hallie who was married 3 or 4 times and from the time I was 6 taught me all about her many rings and things she had acquired all over the world. She loved them as if they were her kids.

I’ve been learning far more about diamonds and gems in my new job this past week and I am struck by the synchronicity of it all. I’ve always felt that we as humans are diamonds in the rough and that our life lessons, our experiences especially the most painful ones are often the facets that we endure to sparkle and shine. It’s the cuts that make us…the facets that shape us into the true brilliance, fire and sparkle that we have naturally within all of us, that show the true essence of who we REALLY are.

I rang the young man’s precious purchase up at the register and handed him the little bag with the tissue paper just so and placed it in his hands reverently. He gave me the biggest smile ever and I couldn’t help myself…I sparkled back at him. I gushed “Happy Holidays!” and covered my mouth with both hands and giggled…imagining him…imagining her…and their moment on Christmas morning. Love is love is LOVE. Sparkle on you beautiful diamond...

[Bootsandheels]

*Bump* for those who have been waiting for the next one...and thank you for all the rep and sweet comments!

[Bootsandheels]

My gorgeous femme bi tango instructor starts the lesson “It’s your connection...to the floor, to your body and to your partner…

I have always wanted to try tango and I finally did this spring with a queer tango class. I was bitten by the tango bug and signed up for more-this time a mixed class with fear and trepidation of having to dance with men.

It’s been a lonnnnng ass time since I’ve been in man space and I seriously was not sure how I would handle it, like it or how I would feel. Just the thought of having to be that close to them, smelling them, dancing virtually cheek to cheek…omg.
I was almost hyperventilating and looking for the ladies’ room.

Don’t get me wrong…I do like men, mostly gay men and they are whom I have spent most of my life dancing with as a former ballerina and teacher. It’s the straight ones I am not so sure I’d really like to be around much, but in the tango world everybody dances with everybody-at least in a tango class setting.

I realized that I wouldn’t be recognized as a FEMME. I would be seen as just another straight woman learning tango in the room because of how I look and present. I was not in the comfort of a queer tango class which Seattle is blessed to offer and where I can at least be seen for one hour a week by my community.

I was in the straight zone, learning and dancing with straight men AND women…and I had to get over myself right quick if I was going to be serious about learning this amazingly beautiful, intimate, sensuous dance called tango.

So besides loving the art form…loving dance and being a pretty good dancer, I asked myself what the "F" am I doing here anyway? To say I was uncomfortable was an understatement.

Connection? To whaaa? (floor…my body…my partner)

Oh…it gets better.

You see in tango…you start by looking at someone’s eyes as a check in to see if they WANT to dance with you…and you want to dance with them.
(ok…butch across a crowded room we spy each other… connection…check. I can relate… just hold that image!) Breathe…move!

Then the embrace…
You meet, a hand is offered and you decide on how close you will be dancing together…open embrace (arms wide holding forearms only), semi-open (hand on shoulder and waist but no close body embrace) or closed (full on embrace torso against torso) oh god just take me now…


“Tango is about the connection…to the floor, to yourself and to your partner” she says again.
After the first coed classes I realized this was why I was so damn uncomfortable. I had to dance heart to heart with most of the people in the class and it was not easy. Yet this was exactly why I needed to be here…to break open my heart and feel again after much heartbreak and disappointment.

I needed to touch and be touched and learn to open my heart again. I needed to let down the moat and break down the castle walls that I had built up over the past few years if I was ever going to love someone again…and make sure I could actually do it.

I would go home and cry after class and show up the next week and begin again…floor…myself…my partner…connection…connect…breathe…connect…MOVE…
Let go…relax…so he’s a straight guy…if you can do this you can do anything!
“Beautiful walk!” she complimented me…I thought it was just the fact that I got to wear heels and dance but I was…finally…finally getting it.

Connection…to the floor, (ground myself and feel it)
Connection…to myself (open my heart hear it beating and feel it)
Connection…to your partner (get ready to feel it again-a new partner is coming).

The walls have crumbled down revealing my beautiful femme heart is still alive and well and tango has given me a gift…Hope.

[Bootsandheels]

*Bump* for the fans...new one! 💃

[Bootsandheels]

Last *Bump* for the new one...