Month: August 2018

Bow Tie o’ the Day begged to head outside to experience the concept of wind. I explained to Bow Tie what it is, and why it exists. I also explained that any wind that shows up in Centerville, UT is not “real” wind. Dirt devils in the desert are also not real wind. Tornadoes and hurricanes are not real wind. Those breezes are merely a taste of wind. Even the wind in Chicago, which is known as The Windy City, is not real wind. If you want to experience real wind, you have to be in Delta, UT. It’s not even a contest. Delta wins. I’ve observed the Delta wind blow cats out of trees. On many occasions, I have seen the wind there blow bigly dogs over while they tried to potty. I have regularly seen the Delta wind move sheds, lawnmowers, trampolines, and bags o’ golf clubs. And, I kid you not, I once saw the wind blow a chainsaw off a picnic table. Where it ended up, I can only imagine. I myself was once blown over onto a washboard road while riding my bike in an unexpected wind, and my bike was nowhere to be found when I dusted myself off. I have seen Delta wind blow herds of humongous tumbleweeds against fences, covering the fences so thoroughly– and artfully– that the fences themselves were not visible. In fact, I once saw the wind in Delta blow so ferociously that it threw a bazillion acres of tumbleweeds so high into the air that they actually disappeared. And when gravity was finally able to pull them back down to earth, it appeared as if the heavens had opened wide and were raining tumbleweeds down upon the whole of Millard County. That, my friends, is wind. And trust me, there is no umbrella for tumbleweed rain. 🌪 ☔️ 🤡

Bow Tie o’ the Day celebrates hot peppers. I decided this was the proper bow tie to wear when eating scrambled eggs and salsa for breakfast. This morning, I’m experiencing something similar to a hangover: a “driveover.” That miniscule trip to and from Utah County to church yesterday went off spectacularly, and I felt I had conquered a humongous hurdle. But when I woke up this morning, my mortal coil was throbbing and shaky and dizzy with fatigue. I’m hoping some spicy red pepper action will eliminate my “driveover” and its accompanying tiredness. Healing is a process of baby steps, I know. But I’m a bigly baby and I wanna take bigly baby steps RIGHT NOW! Each day, I work on ignoring the crawling pace of healing. I remind myself to focus on what new old things I’m able to do again. For example, I handled the laundry without incident a few days ago. I can now empty and fill the dishwasher. I’m back in charge of putting the garbage and recycling in their proper cans. Soon, I’ll be able to be the one who actually rolls the cans to and from the curb on garbage day. It amazes me that dull chores become incredibly thrilling to do after you’ve been incapable of doing them for six weeks. How exciting! Happily, I’m back in shape enough to take Skitter for her short daily walkies, which has never been a chore to me. Above all, I am sooooooo extremely close to being able to safely heft my 100 oz. Mini-Keg o’ Diet Coke. I’ve missed my trusty keg-companion so bloody much. And as an added bonus, carrying it around with me 24/7 made it unnecessary for me to do weight training at the gym. Best. Sippy. Cup. Ever!

Bow Tie o’ the Day’s main color reminded me I was completely out of lemon-lime Popsicles, so off we went to Dick’s Market to replenish my supply. With my current gloomy mood still attacking me, I decided a sorta clownish bow tie might be able to pull me back to the Land o’ the Jolly. And it did improve my discouraged state of mind by making some of the other Dick’s customers smile and/or comment about it. That’s one of the side effects of hangin’ with bow ties: People can’t help grinning at them because the wee knots are dapper and uncommon. That makes it near-impossible for me to be grumpy or down– at least while I’m in the middle of the situation. Even that brief respite from myself helps me remember that there is light– and mirth, and wonder– at the end o’ the tuna. Did ya see what I did there? I felt like making a groaner joke already. Things are looking up. A bit.

Every person should have these two things: A headlamp and a cork Bow Tie o’ the Day. I keep a headlamp on my nightstand, just in case I want to read in the middle of the night, and I’m too lazy to get up out of bed to turn on the light. Mostly, I don’t want to wake up Suzanne with mega light lighting up the whole bedroom like a UFO landing. With a headlamp, I can illuminate the book and nowhere else. Those little book lights you clip on your book are cute gadgets, but they don’t really work. Why we all need a cork bow tie is something I can’t answer except to say it sounds like a snazzy thing to have. I can attest that it is. Blah, blah, blah. I’m kinda blithering on about nothing this morning because my head and heart aren’t into doing this post. Sorry about that, but yesterday was the first post-surgery day that I’ve been discouraged. Oh, nothing happened. I simply felt like I will never get better, and I’ll be stuck in tired-and-always-in-the-house mode. Don’t get me wrong. I know how lucky I’ve been with this whole pancreas endeavor. My surgeon was one of the best in the country. The surgery itself went perfectly. Suzanne’s boss encouraged her to leave/miss work whenever I needed her to help me. My recovery has been right on schedule. Neither extreme of my bipolarity has kicked in. Suzanne gifted me a reclining loveseat. I recognize all these things as my blessings. But for 24 hours now, I’ve pouted inside myself– and a little bit at Suzanne after she got home from work yesterday. I’ve been mad at myself for needing the surgery that has pretty much ruined my summer. And I feel bad it’s ruined Suzanne’s summer, despite the fact that she says it hasn’t. No worries. I know I’ll snap out of it– maybe by this afternoon’s post. I hope so, for your sake. Ain’t nobody got time for this.