I Speak For The Tree

The Bow Tie o’ the Day I’m wearing is almost in hiding. I am doing a rare thing by being blendy, and it has turned out to be a highly successful attempt—especially from a distance. Fortunately, Bow Tie has green highlights on its red background and blue paisley fabric, so it distinguishes itself from my shirt the closer you get to it.

This faux tree sits atop Skitter’s living room crate. And this is what happens when Suzanne puts up a X-mas tree and leaves me alone at home with the un-ornamented thing. The ornament-free Christmas tree looked so lonely as it stood across the room from me. The tree’s loneliness vibes caused me to start reading all kinds of bereft Robert Frost poems—one of which is actually called “Bereft.” So I felt I must dress the faux tree with a few jolly ornaments. The Christmas-colors bow tie at the top was a no-brainer, as was the mostly-green elf-ish necktie with all its crafty bling and sparkle. The Rosie the Riveter ornament is close to the top, displaying the saying that often accompanies images of her: “We can do it!” Down, and to the side of the tie, the red sewing machine ornament is in honor of Suzanne’s cape-making skills. Under the necktie, the ornament is a bag o’ potato chips—also for Suzanne. And finally, the last ornament I hung was in the guise of a box o’ crayons. I am convinced world peace could finally cover the entire planet, if every person on earth had a crayon in their hands at the very same moment. Drawing with crayons has a universal calming effect. As for the overall look of the tree, I have a suspicion the tree will look very different, soon after Suzanne gets home from work and gazes at it in all its faux magnificence. 🎄

A Skittery Christmas, Eccentricities Included

Skitter is as tortured by her elf bandana as Ralphie is by his pink bunny pajamas. Check out how Skitter’s tail is clinging as tightly as is possible to her tummy in mortified embarrassment. I, on the other hand, am jolly and completely smitten by my Santa-going-down-the-chimney hat. 🎩 🎅 (This A CHRISTMAS STORY holiday Tie o’ the Day is a longtime fave for me.)

Allow me to share with you a few more of Skitter’s eccentric behaviors. First, you must know Skitter sleeps shut in her crate at night, at the foot of the bed. If she hears me stirring in the bedroom in the morning, but I don’t immediately open her crate door, she does this odd thing: she daintily fake-coughs. The message she sends me is clear: “Helen, I don’t want to be a bother, but have you forgotten me? [yet more fake coughing] I’m still in my crate. [some even more dramatic fake coughing] Would you kindly open my crate door, so I can go potty and begin my day?” I’m telling you, she can really act: her “coughs” gradually escalate to ever-increasing levels of dramatic intensity. They are pity-worthy fake coughs of the highest quality. I have been known sometimes to stir around doing nothing for a long time when I crawl out of bed, just to provoke many rounds of Skitter’s fake coughing. It is so cute and polite. And pathetic.

Next, on Skitter’s non-fake coughing days, which is most days, she follows her own set schedule. Here’s Skitter’s usual morning routine: She wakes up promptly at 6:00 AM each morning, at which time I let her out of her crate and then out back, where she goes potty at 6:01. She wants back in the house by 6:02. By 6:03, she has curled up in her bed on the couch—right beside me—and she snoozes, while I write. At 10:00 AM, Skitter wakes and leaps out of her bed to visit her food bowl. She’s not hungry. Nope. She is inspecting her the contents of the bowl to make sure her always-full-of-dry-food bowl is topped off with a few dollops of fresh wet food. Does she have a bite to eat while she’s conducting her inspection? No. She rarely eats any of her food before late afternoon or evening. She simply likes seeing the wet food is there where it’s supposed to be. The wet food sits in the bowl, just drying out all day long. Yes, she wakes up at 10:00 AM for the sole purpose of making sure her wet food has been put in its proper place. She wakes up in order to inspect my work. If I have not put the wet food where it should be in her bowl, she panics. She prances back and forth in front of me, until she gets my attention, then she turns her face in the direction of her bowls. I occasionally—and purposely—don’t put wet food in her bowl, so I can watch her freak out when she sees it’s not where it should be. After I successfully pass Skitter’s rigorous inspection of my doggie cafeteria duty, she hops back up in her bed for her post-inspection nap.

Skitter also strolls over to check out her water dish a number of times each day. She usually just keeps an eye on it, and rarely drinks anything until late in the day. She alerts me when her water is “gone.” Skitter panics, and paces, and sometimes performs a leap in order to get my attention. I know what her various leaps mean, and she has one which means she is distressed about her water bowl situation. I initially thought her Water Leap o’ Worry meant she is askeered her water bowl is empty, and she feared she would soon dehydrate into a furry dust-puddle. It sounds like her behavior makes sense. Who doesn’t want to have water in their water bowl? I know I do. But the weirdness of Skitter’s I’m-out-of-water frenzy lies in the fact that she gets antsy about it way before she is out of water. It took me a long time to figure it out, but I eventually caught on to why Skitter worries over a not-yet-empty bowl of water. You see, I discovered it has nothing to do with her panicking over the somewhat low water itself. Her panic is about how she dislikes it when her tongue touches the bottom of the bowl as she gets a drink when the water level is approaching low. She hates when that happens. She’s just finicky. So I make sure there is always a more than sufficient amount of water in her bowl to prevent her precious tongue from touching the bottom of the bowl when she laps it up. She’s just weird. After 9 years with us, Skitter is still a puzzle of idiosyncrasies. And you know how I like putting puzzles together. 🐶 🚰

Banned Book’s o’ the Day: I’m re-reading Jack London’s CALL OF THE WILD, and Jean Craighead George’s JULIE OF THE WOLVES. They are evil books. NOT.

The Snow Stats O’ Centerville

On our patio table this afternoon, we had 3/4 of a Skitter of snow. For you non-canines, that snow total amounts to over 12 inches of powder which has fallen over the course of 2 days. For the official measuring o’ the snow, Skitter wore a Christmas Tie o’ the Day to show her reserved enthusiasm. After her snowy table affair, Skitter asked me if I would like a real snow gauge stick from Santa for X-mas, so she won’t have to sit in the freezing snow again to pose for TIE O’ THE DAY photos. I told her I understood her not-so-thrilled perspective about getting her paws and belly ice cold in the accumulated snow, but I also told her about how all the TO’TD readers like to see her do fun things for my nefarious purposes.

And Now It’s Time For This Iconic Selfie, Plus Another

This is the third year in a row I have posted the same pix of me wearing this onesie/thong holiday-wear which some reader sent me in 2020. So far, the first photo is perfect for showing off this revealing oddity o’ clothing someone so graciously gifted me, so I don’t yet feel the need to take new selfies. Note that I’m also wearing a Rudolph Bow Tie o’ the Day, as well as a Rudolph Necktie o’ the Day. The blue-and-gold paisley Face Mask o’ the Day is a crowning touch to my get-up. It looks lush, if I do say so myself. 🦌

Banned Books o’ the Day: Today, I’m re-reading a couple of once-banned books published in the early 70’s. The first, THE CONTEMPORARY AMERICAN POETS: AMERICAN POETRY SINCE 1940 (edited by Mark Strand), was once the target of banning by a group of really feeble university poetry professors who thought it would poison the minds of poetry readers, because most of the poems in the book don’t rhyme and don’t follow traditional poetic forms. I have a feeling those old goats all passed on long ago—so modern poetry is safe from further judgment by those ol’ relics of the Snooty Rhymes-and-Forms Poetry Club .

The second banned book is THE WORLD SPLIT OPEN: FOUR CENTURIES OF WOMEN POETS IN ENGLAND AND AMERICA, 1552-1950 (edited by Louise Bernikow). And what was the reason for trying to ban this collection? Some goober male wanna-be poet was offended that there were no male poets represented in the book. Hello! The title tells you way, way, way up front that the book’s purpose is to be a collection of poetry written by women. Oy, vey! I cannot make up this asinine reasoning.

Oddly enough, I bought both of these banned books at Deseret Book in the University Mall, in Orem, around 1978. At that time, that particular Deseret Book store’s poetry section—as far as I can recall—had only these two poetry anthologies; every Rod McKuen book known to the Library of Congress; a Carol Lynn Pearson book or two (but not her books with the poems about life sometimes being a messy business); and one very dusty copy of a book of Elizabeth Barrett Browning poems—in which Browning counts the ways. That was it—out of all the poetry written since recorded time, that was the entirety of Deseret Book’s poetry section back then. So I bought these two purportedly scandalous anthologies, and the Rod McKuen and Carol Lynn Pearson books. I already had Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s poetry tucked away at home, in my bedroom library. In those days, I bought whatever poetry I could find, wherever I could find it. I guess it’s kinda like what I still do, eh?

It’s That Time Again

Yup, it’s time once again for me to display the annual Balls ‘n’ Ho’s neckties and bow ties photo. It’s become a Christmas tradition for TIE O’ THE DAY. These photos don’t show all of my Balls ‘n’ Ho’s neckwear, but this is a bigly chunk of it. You can see I enlisted 2 of my Chuck Brown Christmas trees to aid me with the theme. Just as the Balls ‘n’ Ho’s post is a tradition, it is also a tradition for me to make few/zero comments about the theme, and to let you know you are free to make your own jokes about the display, among your own people. (Just don’t make ’em hateful.) Hey, a wee bit o’ irreverence is good for dealing with the inherent stresses of the holiday season. I promise. ☃️

Banned Books o’ Today: I am re-reading Harriet Beecher Stowe’s UNCLE TOM’S CABIN, and Richard Wright’s NATIVE SON. (Are you beginning to recognize a theme here, about what kind of books get banned?)

I Didn’t Mean To Write About Mom, But I Did

We here at TIE O’ THE DAY believe that you can never have enough leg lamps of any ilk. It’s just plain true that 2 real leg lamps and 1 leg lamp Tie o’ the Day make a jolly trio in the house. When I next drive down to Deltassippi to visit Mom at the care center, I will be wearing this same tie. I wear it for her at least once every Christmas season. In fact, she has one of my A CHRISTMAS STORY leg lamps in her room there. It is tiny and plugs into a regular electrical outlet. It is visible on one of her tables or in her window most of the time. Tie o’ the Day will make Mom laugh throughout the entire visit. Mom’s short-term memory is such that she will see and enjoy the leg lamp tie the minute we walk in her room, then she’ll forget it, then 10 minutes later she will notice it again, and so on—as if every time she notices the tie, it’s the first time she’s seen it that day. (Mom loves A CHRISTMAS STORY. I think it was BT/Mercedes’ family who introduced the movie to Mom.)

For a while now, Mom has had a tendency to repeat her stories, jokes, and questions. But she still knows who we are and remembers enough about us to have conversations about our lives. She has, however, begun to ask me how many kids she had, and which one am I. She seems to remember from the early-30’s up to the mid-80’s pretty well, for the most part. Sometimes now she mixes up who did what and where. But we never correct her. We heard the stories when her memory was great, so we know who did what and where. If you happen to run into her at the care center this holiday season, I suggest you let her know who you are and who your parents are. Chances are, she’ll be able to place you or at least your family, and you can enjoy a fun conversation with her. No matter what she remembers or doesn’t remember, she’s still got her spunk, her compassionate heart, and her humor. She is still a joy to be around.

I didn’t intend to write about Mom today. The words simply fell out of my fingertips. I miss Mom every day. Lately, I can’t think about her without crying, as I’m doing now. I miss her even when I’m with her. I am already in mourning for her, though she’s still here with us. She’s Mom, but she is not wholly Mom. Pieces of her are no longer part of her. I mourn those pieces—her wildly aware and knowing love; her full-of-stories memory; and her astute cognition. Her hugs are not whole anymore either. But they are precious to me beyond any riches or success I might ever have. 💎 💰 🏆

Today’s Banned Books: I’m re-reading OF MICE AND MEN, by John Steinbeck, and Anne Frank’s DIARY OF A YOUNG GIRL. Two literary classics.

We Interrupt Our Holiday Tie Posts For This Important Milestone

Our Tie o’ the Day in this photo belongs to my niece, the dapper Amanda Jo Tucker—which is a name she is generally not known by. She has always been called Mimi. Mimi belongs to my oldest sister, BT/Mercedes and Nuk. Like me, she is the baby of her family. Like me, she is the 5th of 5 siblings. Mimi and I have been tight since the Pre-existence, when were were often caught together laughing way too loudly and making the other spirits laugh louder than that. I refer to her as my Wee Doppelganger. We share interests, humor, and cultural knowledge of things before our time and beyond our years. I tell y’all these things because I am flat-out proud of Mimi’s latest accomplishment. As of a couple of days ago, Mimi achieved 6 years of sobriety. Clap now! And clap loudly! 👏🏻 And Mimi, I will tell you what I sometimes have to tell myself: “You can have a drink tomorrow.” Fortunately, it is always today. 🥛