A brief update
The sitter came over last night. I had been "asked" to write some lines, and the sittter was interested in doing a time and motion study to determine my productivity rate. This all started when our cleaning ladies came over and were seemingly amused to see some punishment writing on my dresser; they meticulously tided up the sheets of paper after giving the work a good look-see.
That was 200 lines. They come weekly. So the little woman had a brainwave: next week, you will write 250 lines for the cleaning ladies! And then 300, 350, et cetera. This week's quota is 550. Each week, the line changes, but generally corrective wife or the sitter assign a line that reinforces a behaviour change they wish to see. We have reasons to believe the cleaning ladies love to see the completed work piling up; one of them was overheard saying "That it is such a terrible punishment." The other one said to me one day, "She really likes to keep you busy, huh?"
So anywho, I got my 550 done, the last hundred timed by the sitter (apparently I do roughly 100 an hour if they are one-line lines.) Er, you know what I mean. Some lines can span more than one line, in which case they are even more punishing because they strip away even more free time.
I've been told we're going to a thousand and then we'll see. Ouch!
Then the sitter decided on a field trip. She took me to a riding store, a saddlery place, where she engaged a 23 year old female sales clerk in a discussion about a pony cart and carriage whip. Let me explain. Corrective wife is taking me to a human pony training farm in the Midwest, this summer. I will pull her around a 7/8th's of a mile track, she in a pony cart or sulky, me high-stepping all the way. So the sitter has me on a fitness programme. I am only allowed to high-step around the house. Every step I take in my house? High-stepping, knees way up. I must admit it is conditioning my legs. Soon there will be ankle weights.
So we bought a long whip that can be used by the trainer who sits in the cart and gets the "horse" moving. It was shockingly inexpensive, and a riding crop was also acquired for a purpose the sitter had.
What else? I got my hands strapped. Then today the sitter did a funny thing but it really worked. I had the afternoon off work. So she had me stand, using a wireline telephone, and call her at work. Then she put me on hold; all I got was a beep every twenty seconds or so. Every once in a blue moon, she would come on the line and ensure I was right there, on the phone, standing. She stripped two hours away and of course I couldn't wander around or do anything, or I would be unable to respond when she checked to see that I was still there. Grounded. A hard grounding. I got all soft in the middle as the corner started breaking me down, and after 2 hours I was an extremely calm boy.
lish is right -- I am so loved by these women. They only want good things for me -- fitness, calmness, good behaviour.
That was 200 lines. They come weekly. So the little woman had a brainwave: next week, you will write 250 lines for the cleaning ladies! And then 300, 350, et cetera. This week's quota is 550. Each week, the line changes, but generally corrective wife or the sitter assign a line that reinforces a behaviour change they wish to see. We have reasons to believe the cleaning ladies love to see the completed work piling up; one of them was overheard saying "That it is such a terrible punishment." The other one said to me one day, "She really likes to keep you busy, huh?"
So anywho, I got my 550 done, the last hundred timed by the sitter (apparently I do roughly 100 an hour if they are one-line lines.) Er, you know what I mean. Some lines can span more than one line, in which case they are even more punishing because they strip away even more free time.
I've been told we're going to a thousand and then we'll see. Ouch!
Then the sitter decided on a field trip. She took me to a riding store, a saddlery place, where she engaged a 23 year old female sales clerk in a discussion about a pony cart and carriage whip. Let me explain. Corrective wife is taking me to a human pony training farm in the Midwest, this summer. I will pull her around a 7/8th's of a mile track, she in a pony cart or sulky, me high-stepping all the way. So the sitter has me on a fitness programme. I am only allowed to high-step around the house. Every step I take in my house? High-stepping, knees way up. I must admit it is conditioning my legs. Soon there will be ankle weights.
So we bought a long whip that can be used by the trainer who sits in the cart and gets the "horse" moving. It was shockingly inexpensive, and a riding crop was also acquired for a purpose the sitter had.
What else? I got my hands strapped. Then today the sitter did a funny thing but it really worked. I had the afternoon off work. So she had me stand, using a wireline telephone, and call her at work. Then she put me on hold; all I got was a beep every twenty seconds or so. Every once in a blue moon, she would come on the line and ensure I was right there, on the phone, standing. She stripped two hours away and of course I couldn't wander around or do anything, or I would be unable to respond when she checked to see that I was still there. Grounded. A hard grounding. I got all soft in the middle as the corner started breaking me down, and after 2 hours I was an extremely calm boy.
lish is right -- I am so loved by these women. They only want good things for me -- fitness, calmness, good behaviour.