Month: May 2017

After watching me parade around in my awesome winter hats yesterday and today, Tie o’ the Day #2 pouted and threw tantrums until I said, “Enough is enough. Go find one of your own hats and I will let you pose all by yourself for the website.” Tie did not disappoint. Check out its fabulous Christmas beanie! From the looks of the headwear, I’m thinking Tie crafted the little gem just for this occasion. My ties have such talent!

Because everybody needs a mowhawk winter hat! And this hat says, “Merry Birthday, Katie Poulsen, my Delta neighbor!”

I discovered this headwear just sitting at the back of a closet shelf. I have a suspicion it was hiding cuz it doesn’t want to be displayed in our forthcoming yard sale. I gently explained that I will make sure it goes to a good, fun home. The hat is wrapping its head around the plan. I’m giving it lots of hugs, and it will be okay.

Tie o’ the Day #1 is from Tommy Hilfiger. Shirt is a Bugatchi. Again.

Moving can weird you out. When you’re going through closets, you find all kinds of strange and forgotten stuff. Why did I think I needed this hat? At the time, I just had to have it. (Okay, so I was in my late 40’s when I bought it.) Sure, it was fun for a small period of time. But it is not the kind of possession you wanna take the time to throw in a U-haul and move it from one house to another. The bottom line is that I enjoyed the hat, and now it can go in our next yard sale. Come ‘n’ get it!

The population of Tie o’ the Day is moving wherever I move, however. So don’t worry about missing out on the tie collection. This Tie o’ the Day is by Ted Baker. And yes, I am still wearing my pajamas in this photograph.

In case you wondered where I learned my distinctive clash fashion style, here’s the answer. Helen Sr. taught me well. Blame her.

The tie idea is all mine, of course.

(Bow) Tie o’ the Day #2 has no label, so I can’t tell you what manufacturer made it. Shirt hails from The Gap. I had no idea I had a shirt-and-tie matchy mix somewhere in my closet. But I do, it appears. And the cherry on top of this outfit is my Cruel Girl cap.

We went to Michael’s, and to Ross, and to Barnes & Noble a couple of hours ago, and my style choices  seemed to interest the shopping citizenry of Bountiful bigly–especially children. Perhaps I need to trade in my Sloggers for clown shoes. 🤡

As I’ve mentioned before, I don’t look for attention. I just be me. And being me just seems to stick out. At the very least, me being me gives people something to smile about for a couple of seconds. I don’t take the credit for amusing folks. Nope. It’s the ties, man.🏀  It’s the ties. 👔

 

(Bow) Tie o’ the Day #1 is so helpful around the house lately. I believe Bow Tie is going to ask for an increase in its allowance and is, therefore, doing extra chores.

Here, Bow Tie is writing out checks to pay household bills. I only wish BowTie would use its own checking account instead of ours. Now, THAT would be helpful. THAT would be worthy of an allowance increase.

Keep on truckin’, says my shirt. Tie o’ the Day #2 displays a plethora of martini glasses. Note that each drink has a green olive in it. I believe the olive to be superior to the cocktail onion in this drink.

I came to that conclusion back in the day, when I called Maryland my home. I lived on a funky, artsy street in a funky, artsy city called Takoma Park. Every year, we closed down our street for a bigly 24-hour block party. Blasting music. Dancing in the streets. Suntanning in the road. All that good stuff.

During the block party we wandered into and out of each other’s houses and yards, in no set order, and we ate or drank whatever was offered at each house. At my pal, Winthrop’s (his real name) house, the offering was martinis. That was it. No soft-shell crab, no fruit, no dessert, no cheese and crackers. Martinis By Winthrop, for the duration.

Anyhoo…I had not yet consumed a martini in my then-young life, but I was game to give it a try. I asked Winthrop about the cocktail onion versus the green olive hullaballoo. Of course, Winthrop said it couldn’t be explained so I should just consume one drink with the onion and one with the olive. Which I did. And thus, I formed my opinion that the green olive is the correct compliment to a martini.

So then I asked Winthrop what the difference was between shaken martinis or stirred martinis. Of course, he said it couldn’t be explained so I should just drink one of each. Which I did. (With a green olive in each.) I couldn’t taste any distinction between the two differently prepared martinis. But I did think it looked hipper to shake the concoction. And, lo and behold, by then I was too bigly buzzed to care anyway.

This tie is appropriate for me tonight because I ran out of Diet Coke and there’s only a bottle of club soda in the fridge. It is my belief that when one is out of Diet Coke and has to drink club soda, one has to use a fancy, elegant glass. Wine glass, shot glass, beer mug, brandy snifter, martini glass, Slurpee cup, etc.

Skitter picked out this 1901 brand Tie o’ the Day #1. It is her way of telling me she wants to go for a ride on a motorcycle. I hated to tell her that the motorcycles on the tie are as close as we are ever gonna get to owning one. Suzanne has forbidden me from owning one. Ever. It seems that she wants me to stay alive for a few more decades, and she’s paranoid that a cycle might jeopardize that.

We do not anything Suzanne forbids us from doing. We aren’t sure why. It’s not like she’s ever grounded us or sent us to time-out or any such thing. We just think it’s best to follow her rules. Just in case.

Dad let me have a red Kawasaki 250 when I was in college. It was the perfect size and had just the right amount of power for me. That doesn’t mean that real bikers on their much bigger toys didn’t smirk at me. But I was happy with bugs in my teeth anyway.😁

When I was working on my Master’s Degree, I drove a Honda Spree scooter. It could go up to 30 mph, if the wind was at my back. Suzanne says NO to my getting a scooter too. She did finally give me permission to get one to use only in Delta. But now, since I won’t be living there part-time anymore, it’s too late for me to make that purchase. Oh, well. 😞

Then again, because I won’t be buying a scooter, I will have more $$$ for dogs and ties. 🐶 👔

Tie o’ the Day #2, by 14TH & UNION, should give you a bigly hint about what I need to get taken care of ASAP: My hairs need some cuttin’! Note the rat-tail comb in my shirt pocket. The comb is remarkable because I haven’t combed my hair in probably 3 years. My “stylist,” Miss Sandy, cuts my hairs to my precise orders. And part of any cut I request is that my ‘do has to need no combing whatsoever.

I can remember in the 70’s it was a common practice among us school-going kids–male and female alike–to wear your comb in the back pocket of your jeans. The rat-tail combs sticking out of those pockets might as well have been ice picks. That kind of long, sharp comb-handle caused many an accidental hand-stabbing, especially when somebody would try to reach their arm around their honey’s waist.

Geez, I remember stupid things.

 

Church Bow Ties were sad to not be in Deltassippi to attend church this morning, so they found a hard wooden bench and decided to gather together to do some scripture study on their own. They are faithful to their beliefs–which word Devon pronounced “beefs” when he was a wee boy.

Fast and Testimony Meeting is our favorite church meeting to attend. We like to hear about individuals’ journeys to their belief system, and to hear about the ways in which they use their beliefs to navigate the twists of life.

When I was a very young kid, I thought the name of this meeting was actually “Fasten Testimony.” Like you were there to somehow have your testimony attached to your soul, kinda like a playing a spiritual  game of Pin the Tail on the Donkey. Weird, I know. But if you ponder this idea seriously, it is sort of accurate about what bearing your testimony can do for/to you.

And speaking of “bearing” your testimony… I think the word “baring” is a better way to think of it, since in giving your testimony, your soul is laid bare.

And speaking of the word “testimony”… I think of the tales told in The Rooms of AA as “drunkimonies” or “drunkologues.” You bare your soul to others like you, in your presentation of your wayward flailing/failing of bad choices. The groups do resemble church wards, with the same kind of responsibility to serve and care for other members.