So, I’ve been unpacking and organizing my new digs. Clothes, for example, are roughly organized by type in the dresser. Two of the drawers screech horribly, so I’m avoiding them at the moment. Wintery odds and ends are shoved in the corners of the closet. *Shrug* But the toys, some of which I haven’t seen in three months? I’m treating them like lost children. “My babies!,” I think as I stroke through the floggers, hoping their tails will straighten out when I hang them up. I make a mental note to soak the end of the rattan cane. Everything gets wiped down as I unpack it into the closet. I debate whether to organize items by type (i.e. vibrators together) or activity (anal accoutrements together), or perhaps by frequency of use (dilators in front, ivory soap in back, etc.). The riding crop, which I’ve never been able to use well, is duly laid out. I add a small wooden cutting board. I thought maybe I’d contribute it to the kitchen, but now I think I’ll see how it does as a paddle. The leather care items I can put out on the shelf, at least. A short bamboo rod will arrive in the mail soon.
Most items? They get thrown together. Toys? They get special care. Maybe that’s because I intentionally bought or received most of them as gifts. But some of them, like the cutting board, are just ‘pervertibles’. I value them because their meaning is the meaning that I give, the life I breathe into them as a player. They’re not just objects, but histories told and adventures waiting to happen. I’m eager to learn what new adventures the next three months will bring–maybe even the mysterious crop will reveal its insight.
Psst–If you’re looking for a great toy-focused blog, check out JoEllen Notte, a.k.a. The Redhead Bedhead.