Month: October 2018

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Families Are Forever

Tie o’ Yesteryear joined in for a family picture. Guess which one I am. I believe I am the one with the hat, shades, and tie. It’s difficult to tell who is who in my family because, for some inexplicable reason, we all look alike. 😉

I’m pretty sure we were at a wedding when this photo was snapped because I am wearing my couple-kissing-passionately tie, which I do generally wear to weddings. I’m sad you can’t see it better. Maybe another time.

The point I hope to get across to you by presenting this pic is this: I love my loving family and the love we have for each loving other, and the love we love giving to each loving other. Even the loving words “love” and “loving” don’t begin to express the loving love we love each other with. Did I emphasize the words “love” and “loving” enough for you to get at least a hint of the love I love that we have towards each loving one of us? Love R Us. 💙 ❤️ 💜 💛

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The Flying Leeches

After brunch yesterday, Bow Tie o’ the Day and I accompanied Suzanne to Home Depot, where she got plant pots the size of wine barrels. Bow Tie and I got distracted by this wasp-killing spray display.

This “can” stood about 7-feet tall, and I realized the can should be labeled Delta-size. And it should be mosquito repellent. A can this size could get you through almost an entire week’s worth of summer evenings outside in Delta. And I do mean “almost.” Realistically, you’d probably need at least a can and 1/3 of this Delta-size repellent to save you from the skeeters for that length of time. I am not using hyperbole about this. 🐜 🙀 (I couldn’t find a mosquito emoji. The ant will have to suffice.😜 )

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I Had To Get Out And Do Something On The Sabbath

Bow Tie o’ Yesterday and I had a bad day, even though we went to Sunday brunch AND made a foray to Home Depot. I was nauseous and in pokey pain, and I was in a crabby, crappy mood. But we determined to muddle though. We did what we did, and then when we got home, we weren’t up to posting.

We brunched at a restaurant called PORCH, a 40-minute drive away, in Daybreak. It was worth the drive. If you want grits or Johnny cakes, it’s your place. I can attest that their crawfish were delightful.

I wore my new designer cape to brunch. (Suzanne does good work, eh?) It was my first public wearin’ o’ the cape, and it seemed to be a hit. No one mistook it for a Halloween costume, and Suzanne wasn’t embarrassed to be seen with me in it. As I’ve mentioned before, she rarely has a problem with my fashion choices. She rarely bats an eye at any of my shenanigans. I have noticed, however, that she is increasingly concerned about my scraggled-up hairs. She is beginning to not walk close to me because of them. She is on the verge of being embarrassed by my mop. I can’t blame her. I don’t want to be seen in its company either right now. But we must remember: Beauty is a process sometimes. We must trudge through the ugly parts, to arrive at our beauty destination.

Sometimes we must even trudge through the sneeze, as you can see I had to. I wanted you to see the photo of me doing just that. I’m glad Suzanne snapped the pic right before the sneeze, so I could see how I look when I achoo. I have always wondered about that. I wonder about odd things. It keeps me young.

Mostly, I included more than one photo because I felt like showing off my Suzanne-made cape again and again and again. I am bragging about her handiwork, as much as I am bragging about how breathtaking I look when I’m wearing it. 😸

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Mom And I Ain’t Askeered

Bow Tie o’ the Day is one of my favorites to wear. I have a grand time showing off my novelty neckwear– like my Skittles bow tie, or my wood mustache bow ties, or my Band-aid tie. But I never tire of a simply beautiful, colorful tie of any type.

Paisley is probably my fave design pattern, so I tend to collect ties with paisles (my word) on them. Polka dots are fabulous too. But when I’m cremated, I guarantee I will be wearing one of my paisley bow ties. I have given that instruction to Suzanne already. At some point, I will need to designate which bow tie it will be, but I’m not thinking about it yet. Hey, I’m not dwelling on dying. I don’t expect to do it soon. (Knock on wood.) And my surgery probably bought me a decade more than if I hadn’t had it. (Knock on wood again.)

I can’t deny death has been on my mind the last few years. I figured my Hanky Panky would take me out of the game long before we could do anything about the dang organ. But mostly, it’s Mom who has had me thinking about death. Her death.

Even before she broke her hip last year and things have kinda headed downhill for her health-wise, Mom would occasionally say to me– out of the blue– things like, “Write this down. I want so-and-so to speak at my funeral.” Or, “Here. I want this picture on my funeral program.” She’s also been giving away her possessions for a few years. She’s been downsizing. I guess you could consider that to be a way of unpacking her baggage for her next, last trip. We all travel light when we die.

I think that since Dad died, in 2007, she has been making her peace with the end of her turn on the planet. She certainly has never stopped living a loud life, but she hasn’t been shy about talking with me about her death. She is not afraid of it. And I have heard her say a few choice words to Dad about getting off his lazy butt and climbing out of his grave– so obviously she can joke about it. But ultimately, Mom is very clear that she is not done here yet. Yay!

Personally, I think Mom is one of the Three Nephites (Mormon reference), so she’ll never die. She’ll just wander around in her housecoat doing good deeds, for time and all eternity.

I’m cool with that.

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I’m Growing It As Fast As I Can

Bow Tie o’ the Day has been overhearing an ongoing– though not constant– “argument” between me and Suzanne. It seems Suzanne is not at all happy with me growing out my hair. This photo makes a good case for her side of the “argument.” She is no longer happy looking at my not-pretty hairs. And she is tired of me wearing hats and bandanas to disguise its awkwardness.

Suzanne has even threatened to take over my posts and beg y’all to rescind your grow-out-your-hair votes. Her protestations have not swayed me from pursuing my goal, and she thinks yours might. Nope. I am committed to growing out my all my hairs for one last time in my life. I will not be dissuaded.

I do have a slight fear that she will reach her absolute limit of patience with my hairs, and I will get out of bed one morning to find my hairs have been hacked off during the night, while I peacefully slept and dreamed of my eventual long, sexy mane. And that would be a double whammy for me. I’d have no longish hairs AND I’d have to change the sheets before I took a nap. 💇

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This Is Complicated. You Might Have To Read It Twice. I Know I Did.

Tie o’ the Day provides us Halloween colors, while Cufflinks o’ the Day present us with Breast Cancer Awareness Month pink. These ‘links might look plain, but they are James Bond-y. Each one is a functioning USB flash drive, with 8 GB of storage. Imagine how many secrets they can each hold. I can wear these anywhere, and no one will suspect I might have documented spy secrets in my cufflinks. This pair of ‘links– and all the information they contain– will most likely travel with me on our upcoming journeys.

Yes, my scar and my exhaustion and Suzanne and I are flying off again. Next Saturday we head to L.A. for two days, to see a Sunday concert at The Forum. We’ll be seeing a band called Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. It’s an obscure band, so don’t feel un-cool if you haven’t heard of them. Suzanne and I have listened to them for three decades, and it’s one of Suzanne’s fave bands of all-time. However, we’ve never seen them in concert, and seeing them live is one of the items on Suzanne’s bucket list. The band is giving only two performances in the USA– one in L.A. and one in New York City. Clearly, L.A. is closer and less expensive, so it was an easy choice. We leave next Saturday and fly back that Monday, when we are scheduled to arrive at SLC International about 4 PM.

Here’s where the super-duper crazy part comes in.

Suzanne has a work conference in Albuquerque, beginning Tuesday– the morning after we return from L.A.. I’m going along with her for the ride. Our flight to New Mexico is Monday night, only four hours after our arrival from L.A. We will speed home from the airport in between flights to kiss Skitter and grab different, pre-packed suitcases for our Albuquerque trip. (Suzanne is still in charge of lifting my luggage. Sorry, Suzanne.) Then we’re right back at the SLC airport for the 8 PM flight. We will arrive in Albuquerque– wiped out from a long travel day– late Monday night.

Tuesday morning, Suzanne will wake up early and skip off to work, where she will slave in the dark, damp, dank coal mines of public education. And I will sleep in.

It will be like a regular morning at home. 😜

 

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Any Mention Of BYU Makes Me Think Of Trav

Pink Bow Tie o’ the Day brings the extra large– to bigly remind you October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. This wide, fat style of bow tie is commonly referred to as a Big Boy. I found this one at a company called Phat Knot.

As for the BYU hat… All I can say is that although I am a U of U fan, through and through, I have to give props to “The Y” every now and again because Bishop Travis and Bishopette Collette both work there. They themselves keep that institution of higher learning functioning smoothly. That might be stretching the truth just a little, but not much.

You should see Travis and Collette in the same room together: No matter what else is going on around them, you can almost see their adoration for each other seep out of their pores. It’s not a sappy thing to behold. It’s not a matter of public displays of affection. It’s as if some sort of love halo forms over and around them when they are together. They remind me of my parents in that way.

If everyone had that kind of love in their lives, the planet would be automatically transformed. Having that kind of love in your heart makes it impossible to have any desire to do harm to another human being.

I hope you live in the “love halo.” I know I damn sure do. ❣️ 😇

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Ice Cream Is The Freezing-est Food Group

The things you do– they tell on you. Even Bow Tie o’ the Day can see that. Yup, that is, in fact, a teeny drip of chocolate ice cream on my chin. It’s not huge, but it is there. It might surprise you to know this, but I don’t have a make-up artist and a hair stylist to primp me every day before I snap these tblog selfies. I’m sorta wash-and-wear. As a result, this afternoon my chin tells on me that I have been eating ice cream for lunch again. What my chin doesn’t tell you is that I ate the last of the ice cream, so I’ve gotta go to Dick’s Market to replenish my supply.

To properly stock up on ice cream, you must have a plan. I can help you out with that. First, you must know that there are a number of premium brands of ice cream made with gobs of sugar and cream, and it’s better to eat no ice cream at all than to eat no-name brand, lard-laden ice cream. Go for the best. One extremely rich brand or another is always on sale.

Second, choose your flavors wisely. You never know what flavor of ice cream you’re going to crave at any given time. To assure that what you crave is always in the freezer, buy a well thought-out variety: A tub o’ vanilla is a must buy. You can eat it plain, or you can douse it with any of a variety of syrups– and you can load it with candies or fruits. Next, make sure you have some kind of chocolatey ice cream. And then make sure to get a fruity ice cream. And, if it’s to your taste, you need to stock an ice cream dotted with nuts too. You have to cover all the taste bases.

At the grocery store, after you’ve made your basic selections for the ice cream pantry you’ve made of your freezer, it is your duty to choose one Ben & Jerry’s flavor for your special self– for you only. It does not matter how much your little pint of ice cream costs. It does not matter how many calories of fat it harbors. We must think of that pint as our reward for getting our sorry asses off the couch to go grocery shopping.

Even if all we buy is ice cream.

BTW   Keep wearing your pink this month, to show your support for Breast Cancer Awareness.

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The Invisible Tie Woman

I needed a clothes hanger to help out Tie o’ the Day this morning. My face feels too tired to be in a photo. Sometimes that happens. And also, I’m planning to scrub the bathroom later, and I ain’t gussying up for that task. I hereby declare Pajama Day for myself. Suzanne’s just gonna have to miss out on a pj holiday until this weekend.

Despite the fact that I still need to take frequent pj days while I’m healing up, my daily to-do lists are getting longer and longer, as my surgery gets farther in my rearview mirror. For almost a month after my hospital adventure, my only daily chore was walking to the freezer for Popsicles, if Suzanne wasn’t home to retrieve them for me. And since Popsicling was my only chore, I didn’t even need to write a list.

After a few more weeks, I added a few routine chores to my to-do’s. Things like folding clothes, putting dishes into the dishwasher, driving myself to my own doctor appointments in my car, etc. Oh, and going to brunch. That’s my favorite-est chore of all.

I can cook and make the bed and do my own laundry now, so I write those tasks on my list. (I have never ever been allowed to do Suzanne’s laundry, for no discernible reason except that she has OCD about it, and is compelled to do it herself.) I can empty the dishwasher and put the clean dishes and pans in their places now. I can roll the garbage and recycling cans to and from the curb. I can run errands in my clutched truck. I grocery shop again. I can de-poop Skitter’s droppings from the back yard on Wednesday’s, before the HOA lawn dudes show up to mow.

An unfortunate thing about my torso feeling better, however, is that I am once again able to put on a bra. I no longer have an excuse to not wear a breasticle girdle. I hate when that happens.

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Dr. Bow Says, “Later”

Bow Tie o’ the Day added some zip to my appointment with my pain doctor, Dr. Bow, this afternoon. She was pleased with Bow Tie, but not so pleased with my current pain situation. Oh, apparently I’m healing up from surgery just dandily. But there are enough tweaks and jabs going on in the vicinity of my belly right now that we decided it’s probably best to not change anything pain medication-wise, until my belly brouhaha calms down. In a few months, I should have a much more accurate gauge of my intricate pain situation.

How bloody long does this recovery take? I’m losing my patience with not being able to do every last thing I want to do. I want my way. And I want it now. And my way is to go about my regular activities without worrying about pulling some innard or another. And I want to ditch my pain meds– or at least knock ’em down a notch– if I so desire. And I do.

What truly scares me is the fact that my Whipple procedure might not ease any of my pancre-ass pain. My surgeon told me before we scheduled the surgery that even a successful operation still might not solve the pancreatic pain issues. He said there was no guarantee the operation would diminish one iota of ouch.

Apparently, pancreatic stones are not like gall stones or kidney stones. With gall stones and kidney stones, if you get rid of the stones, the pain goes with them. Not necessarily so, with pancreas stones. But after almost twenty years of trying to deal with my panky, my pain had worsened to the point that I couldn’t stand it anymore. I decided it was worth taking the risk– hoping it will eventually relieve some of the agony.

Also, I could no longer stand Suzanne constantly pestering me to take the chance and go under the knife. Her nagging me to give in and have surgery was another kind of pain. A pain in the butt, to be precise. Don’t you just hate it when somebody wants what’s best for you? It’s such a pain to be loved.