Witty & Wise Ties, Trivia & Lies
I’ve been a missionary for all things tie for most of my decades, and one of the tie myths I most have to dispel is the idea that the tie way of life is reserved for the male of the species only. Not true, my friends. Bow Tie o’ the Day is further proof that ties of any kind are good for each human being who walks the planet. Train up a child in the Bow Tie way they should go: and when they are old, they will not depart from Bow Ties. Or any other type of tie. 😁
It ain’t quite October yet, but I suppose it might be October in dog years. For some reason, Skitter thinks she can try on Halloween costumes already, even though the rule of the house is– and always has been– no Halloween preparation or talk is allowed until October 1st. Skitter’s working on her jester costume, I guess. Green and purple are a snappy clothing color duo. And a collar is a kind of neckwear too.
Bow Tie o’ the Day is one of my more exotic specimens. Its style is called a diamond point, and Bow Tie is made of cork. Maybe I’ll add some pizzazz to it by pinning small trinkets and notes on it. I mean– if you can pin a shopping list or a love note on a cork board, why not on a cork bow tie?
Bow Tie o’ the Day is one of my faves. Any bow tie with a paisley theme is always going to have a special place in my tie-wearin’ heart.
This morning, I’m in a mood I can only describe as “a thinkin’ ’bout mood.” And here is where my “thinking’ ’bout” has led me: I’ve had it with division. I’ve had it with we/they and us/them. We’re all God’s children, or none of us are. If one single human being loses, we all lose. A single individual’s loss diminishes us all. We are linked to everyone else on the planet.
Okay. My tiny, bigly rant ends there. But here I repost a poem by Miller Williams. It’s about feeling superior. It’s about “us” pretending we’re not “them.”
COMPASSION
Have compassion for everyone you meet/ even if they don’t want it. What seems conceit,/ bad manners, or cynicism is always a sign/ of things no ears have heard, no eyes have seen./ You do not know what wars are going on/ down there where the spirit meets the bone./
You may have noticed I didn’t write a post this morning. A funny thing happened on my way to the website. I decided to more closely examine The Ultimate SewingBox before I sat down at the laptop. There I stood, right in front of that massive piece of furniture, rapt with wonder. Apparently, Suzanne didn’t see me there when she folded the box closed around me before she went off to work. It is so cavernous that I didn’t even see her closing it on me. Suzanne left. And I got lost in The Ultimate SewingBox’s maze-like insides as I tried to escape its architecture. Only when I got Skitter’s attention by barking to her that I needed help– only then was I rescued, when Skitter clawed open The Ultimate SewingBox to its full expanse.
Being in The Ultimate SewingBox was the opposite of my experience of being folded up in the hide-a-bed in our living room when I was a kid. At least The Ultimate SewingBox didn’t make me claustrophobic. BTW Have I mentioned that The Ultimate SewingBox is bigly? Don’t worry. I’m sure I will repeat that fact on occasion. On many occasions.
Floppy Bow Tie o’ the Day looks relaxed, eh? Cufflinks o’ the Day are symbolic of the fact that I once again ate ice cream for breakfast. To be precise: I ate three scoops of Red Button Raspberry Cheesecake ice cream. I ate the same thing for lunch. Why? Because I can. I am the boss o’ me. The perks of being the boss of your adult self include being able to eat ice cream whenever you feel like it. You don’t need permission. All you need is to make sure you have ice cream in the freezer. Being an adult does not have to suck. Being an adult can be full of sweets.
The downside of being the boss of yourself is that you are responsible for every move you make. Choose the wrong person to marry? Your fault. Get in a drunken bar fight? Your fault. Get a ticket for driving 85 mph in a 50 mph zone? Your fault. Go broke buying too many bow ties? Your fault. You get the idea.
You have the power to fill your adult life with a long list of perks, though. There is a do-over for most of our screw-ups. We can convert our mistakes into perks. We must learn the lesson each bad move taught us. We must work to earn forgiveness. When we get our do-overs right,– when we’ve made the better choices– every consequence that follows just might be a perk.
So be on the lookout for bad moves dressed up in perk’s clothing. Eating that ice cream can transform from perk to bad move when it shows up on your belly. You get a do-over on the fun stuff like that too. You must learn to be wise and use moderation. You can still eat ice cream for breakfast and lunch. It can still be a perk of adulthood, if you’ll take your fat gut out for a walk– anytime and anywhere you want– until your tummy gets back into shape. Walks are perks too, right? What negative consequence ever came from going for a walk? Exactly none. Ice cream + walks = a win-win. Heck, eat a Creamsicle on your walk. Balance always leads to perks.
You might as well take responsibility for your life. With some exceptions, you make your life what it is. You make you who you are. Yes, you really are mostly your own fault. 😁 😉🙃🤡
Here’s what Bow Tie o’ the Day knows with perfect certainty: Suzanne will get home late from work today, because that’s how she rolls every day. Even with The Ultimate SewingBox waiting for her– which is her dream come true– she will still be the brilliant educator she is, and she will put children first. She pushes herself to excel at her work, with the students always foremost in her mind.
But when Suzanne gets home, she will open up The Ultimate SewingBox you see here. And she will be single-mindedly engaged in the task of filling up The Ultimate SewingBox with her sewing supplies– prepping it for her current list of projects. She will not pass GO. She will not collect $200. ( If you don’t get that reference, I feel really bad for you. And I feel really old.) She will not pay attention to me, nor will she acknowledge Skitter. For her, this whole The Ultimate SewingBox thing is her Christmas morning, as it should be.
For me, watching Suzanne hobby around is like watching a litter of puppies play. You can’t not watch them, and you can’t not relax and smile at how seriously they take their playing. The day Suzanne isn’t sewing or crafting in some way is the day she will no longer be with us. And you can be sure I hope that day never comes.
You know how we’re encouraged to have food storage in case of some natural disaster, or a lost job, or the invasion of green aliens? I think Suzanne has decided she needs to store fabric and thread and sewing machines in case of any of these Armageddons. She’ll be sewing a quilt top, while we’re all fighting our neighbors in the streets for the last of the drinkable water. She will not die with her boots on. She will die cradling a bolt o’ flannel in her arms.
I should probably also pack her a 72-hour kit full of sewing and crocheting implements to carry in the trunk of her car. It’ll make us both feel better about the catastrophic end of the world.
The star Neckwear o’ the Day is the Wild Rag o’ Last Evening worn by Suzanne’s nephew, Colton. He’s our very own The Ultimate SewingBox Assembler. Colton made it clear to me that wild rags are not scarves, and to refer to them as such is out-and-out wrong. I will refrain from even trying to figure out the difference between the two.
Ain’t Colton cute? Don’t you just wanna hug him? You can see his cute butt in one of these photos, also. It’s worth a look-see. Colton was obviously game to be in this pic, but he felt bad he didn’t have his signature cowboy hat with him. A sweaty work hat looks good on him, too.
Although The Ultimate SewingBox instructions said the project required approximately 3 hours to put it together, it took over 5. And that was with Suzanne assisting Colton after she got home from work. If Colton can’t complete what somebody says is a 3-hour task in 3 hours, it isn’t a 3-hour task. That man can work. That man is efficient.
So here is The Ultimate SewingBox, although I’m sure it won’t be the last time I post about it. It takes up one entire living room wall when it’s opened up. It’s kind of its own little room. It is certainly bigly-er than either of us imagined it would be. You can get an idea how large this thing is when you see Colton standing next to it. He is 6 ft. 15 inches tall.
As I’ve said, some people have a fireplace as the focal point of their living room. This is now what we have. I told Suzanne I will be happy if The Ultimate SewingBox is always open, taking up a pretty bigly chunk o’ the living room. Her happiness is my happiness.
And now, I have a lifetime pass on her fussing about anything I do. She’s that hyped up about having The Ultimate SewingBox in her possession. From now on, I can do no wrong.
Suzanne hasn’t yet inserted all of The Ultimate SewingBox’s bins and trays. That’ll take up an evening. And then filling each container after they’re in place will take up the weekend. Suzanne will be thrilled to have to figure out what she wants to put in it. She will definitely have to carefully choose The Ultimate SewingBox supplies from her overflowing craft room. I could buy her one of these for the other three living room walls, and they still wouldn’t be able to hold her hoard o’ sewing stuff. (I know. I’m one to talk. I have The Tie Room.)
Suzanne seems deeply pleased with her new toy. In fact, even before it was completely put together, I saw her literally petting it. And her cheeks were high with giddiness. Best. Money. I. Ever. Spent.
If you wanna see The Ultimate SewingBox in action, here’s the link you wanna check out:
Tie o’ the Day shows us a spot-on example of creating clash fashion by using different degrees of one color. The red of my shirt, paired with the red of my tie, sets forth two clashing reds that also sorta kinda blend into each other.
If your tie doesn’t jump out and grab attention, you are not clashing correctly. The trick to creating satisfactory clash out of the “same” colors is to close-but-not-quite match them. The hues must be different enough from each other that it’s clear you weren’t attempting to be matchy in the first place. They must clash to the extent that it is clear to everyone who sees you that you purposely meant to not match. Choose a single color and go with it. Almost.
And look! These two reds helped me pull a whole new face for my photo. I’ve never mugged like this before. Although it’s not a complicated face to make, I had no idea I was capable of making it. I think it’s important to learn how to do something new every day. 😜
While I was in The Tie Room choosing Tie this afternoon, I took a quick gander at the ties– just the regular ties– hanging in my closet. I have only a dozen ties whose colors are mainly red. It appears the majority of my ties are covered in blues. 2nd Place goes to hues of purple. I’ve got a thing for purples. The ties in last place are green. I’ve got probably only five or six green ties in my collection. It’s not that I don’t like the color green, it’s just that I haven’t found many green ties that stand out enough for my purposes. There are few loud and/or fun green ties out there . There are even relatively few green X-mas ties, but I do have some.
Speaking of Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa holiday ties and bow ties… Don’t forget that I have so many to wear that– in order for you to see every last one I’ve collected– I will have to sometimes wear more than two per day, even though I’ll begin wearing them the day after Thanksgiving. It’s what I have to do, in order to wear them all by Christmas. Tie + photograph = website post. Whew! I’m tired just thinking about all that extra work.
Seriously, I look forward to showing y’all all that merry holiday neckwear. Sing with me: “It’s the most/wonderful time/of the year.”
BTW The Ultimate SewingBox is being assembled as I’m typing this. I’m hoping I can write about the all-done furniture in tomorrow morning’s post. For now, I’m off to take photos of the various stages toward its completion.
Bow Tie o’ the Day likes the fact that more and more days are chilly enough for me to wear long-sleeve shirts, cuz that means cufflinks will be around to spend part of the day with the bling. It seems like the ties enjoy sharing their limelight on the website.
Today’s Cufflinks o’ the Day offer a dog and a tree, and we all know how our mutts love trees. Male mutts mostly. But I have seen plenty o’ female canines use a tree.
Skitter is not one of them. In fact, I’m beginning to doubt if Skitter is even a dog. She will neither pee nor poop when we take her on walks. She will do neither at rest stops. She will do neither in the brush at the side of the road. I’ve taken her to parks where dogs aren’t even allowed, just to see if she would give it up in the name of breaking the law for the sole purpose of being a rebel. Nope.
I once drove to Cedar City and back to Delta in one day, with Roxy and Skitter in the back seat. Whenever I stopped at a gas station for drive snacks, Roxy jumped out and did her business. I’d have to drag Skitter out of the car, walk her to the back of the station, and wait. And wait some more. Skitter would just shake. Roxy’d get tired of waiting and go back to the car. Not one drop of anything ever came out of Skitter.
Defeated, we continued our day journey to and from Cedar. And don’t think for one minute that Skitter did any of her business at any point during our trip. We got to our Cedar destination, and still no #1 or #2. And there was not one Skitter drop or dropping on the way home either. She seemed fine about it, but I know better.
Where will Skitter do her thang? She would relieve herself anywhere on The Wright Block in Delta. But now that we sold the Delta house, the one place on the entire planet she will relieve herself is in our fenced-in back yard here in Centerville. That’s it.
When we go on vacation, Suzanne’s sister, Marjorie, comes to live in our house with Skitter for a few days. If Marjorie isn’t available to Skitter-sit, we don’t go. So far, Marjorie hasn’t let us or Skitter down yet. They both seem happy about their playcations at our house. Skitter doesn’t even shake, rattle, and vibrate around Marjorie anymore.
It’s a good thing Skitter and Marjorie enjoy their sleepovers here, because Suzanne and I are planning to go away for a week in October. We can’t take Skitter or Marjorie with us, but at least I’ll have ties with me. 🐕 🌳
But that won’t stop me. In fact, Bow Ties o’ the Day/Tie o’ the Day encouraged me to press on with our post. And I listen to this tie because it allows me to not have to decide between wearing a bow tie or wearing a regular tie. Sometimes a girl just needs to wear both types of neckwear.
How are we going to come up with something to write about? Well, I have a tried-and-true method for figuring out a starting point– whether it’s for a post, a story, or a poem. I grab a dictionary, open it up to a random page, then put my finger on a word. I have to write something about that specific word. That’s my rule.
For this post, the first word I touched was a dirty word, so we’ll bypass that one. The second word I touched– the one we can use– was “mucilage.” I know. Weird. It shares the same word root as “mucus.” And of course it means an adhesive gum or glue, usually made from plants. Yes, it looks and feels like mucus.
I wondered mightily what to say about mucilage, and then I remembered a crafty glue/mucilage concoction called Mod Podge, which I always heard pronounced MODGE Podge. Ah, the 70’s! (It’s still around in craft stores, although it kinda disappeared for a couple of decades. Throwback!)
Mod Podge dried almost completely clear, no matter what you spread it on. It was a mostly transparent glue, but it dried with a matte finish. Aside from brushing completed puzzles with Mod Podge so they wouldn’t fall apart, or cutting out pictures and Mod Podging them to pieces of wood, the main thing I did with Mod Podge is use it to coat rocks I had painted, to protect the paint and to give the rock a matte look.
We were all doing it. We painted our pet rocks. We painted faces on our rocks– like doing their make-up, I suppose. We painted what adults considered hippie words on rocks, like PEACE, LOVE, GROOVY, HARMONY– evil, counterculture words. The size of the rock didn’t matter. Rocks tiny enough you could keep them in your pocket. Rocks bigly enough you could decorate your front porch with them. Rocks you could put in your school locker or on your desk. What were we thinking? But it was a heckuva blast.
So that’s my mucilage story, for what it’s worth. And if you didn’t know Mod Podge before, now you do. And if you didn’t know mucilage before, now you do. If you see the word MUCILAGE and can’t remember what it means, try to see MUCUS. That’ll remind you.
Tie o’ the Day understands. We know what you came to see: The Ultimate SewingBox. Sorry to disappoint. Our scheduled assembler had to do other stuff last night, so he couldn’t come over and put together Suzanne’s new best friend. But he’s promised to be here tomorrow night to perform his miracle. Hey, he’s a young buck, so he has a lot of fish to fry, as they say. And there are a lot of fish in the sea, as they also say. And he has a right to sow his wild oats– as they also say. Okay, I’m done with the clichés now. We’re practicing our patience while anticipating the bigly outcome.
I decided to put together some autumn colors clash for the photo today. And in the photo you can also see a pile of boxes containing body parts of The Ultimate SewingBox. And, hey, it’s just one of the piles o’ parts.
When I assemble things– whether I use the instructions or not– the finished product does not in any way resemble what it’s supposed to be. At least I know that truth about myself. To be successful in life, a person’s gotta know their strengths and weaknesses. In fact, I don’t buy anything that must be assembled, unless I can think of some victim who will be willing to do it for me.
I don’t mind paying. Name your price. Hell, I’ll double it. I’ll bake you cookies. I’ll wash your car. I’ll have your babies. Just do it for me, please. And while you’re assembling the thing, I won’t stand over your shoulder and tell you how I think you should do it either. You are free to construct away. 🔨