Month: November 2018

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I’m Hungry, But The Ice Cream Is Gone

Bow Tie o’ the Day suggests I eat some fish, while Cufflinks o’ the Day suggest macaroni and cheese. Along with being out of ice cream, I’m out of those two food staples too.

But I’m happy to wear symbols of them. In fact, wearing them is sorta like wearing my shopping list. When I go shopping at Dick’s Market later this morning, how can I possibly forget to buy salmon and macaroni? Off course, that all depends on if I remember to look at what I’m wearing. I’m good at forgetting to take my shopping list to the store or—if I have my list—for forgetting to look at it while I’m there filling my shopping cart with everything except what I went there for. Perhaps I’ll have more luck buying the listed things if I’m wearing the grocery items I need. I’ll let you know if it worked.

The woman who works at the meat counter at Dick’s gives me an earful of chastisement if I end up there without wearing a tie of some kind. She particularly enjoys the bow ties. She always has something to say about whatever tie I’m wearing. She also remembers the meat items I usually get, right down to the poundage. I don’t even have to tell her my order. She just gets my order ready while we chat. After she’s wrapped it all up and printed out the price for each item, she asks if I need anything else. I rarely do. She knows my meat list well.

Since Dick’s is my regular grocery store, my ties are usually a point of conversation with whatever staff I run into. Even the folks in the pharmacy ask to see whatever neckwear I’m in, even if I’m not picking up prescriptions. The pharmacy is right next to the ice cream section, which you know I frequent. It never fails. A pharmacist will see me choosing my ice cream, and they’ll call me over so they can gaze at my tie.

I have no idea if the Dick’s folks like me, but they love my neckwear. Sometimes I feel like I work at Dick’s. It’s as if I’m the resident entertainment. My ties make the store a cabaret. Food and a show together = a cabaret.🍗

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I Enjoy Being A Cartoon

Minion Bow Tie o’ the Day reminds me that I have a tendency to be a caricature of myself. I’m a cartoon. I could be something much worse. I could be a slasher movie, for example. I’m more like a funny comic book though, because I write this post with actual words. But I don’t quite feel like the complete cartoon character I long to be. I really, really, really wish I could figure out how to make my words hang over my head like in print cartoon dialogue bubbles. 💬 💬 That would make me the authentic-est me I can imagine.

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Helen Sr. And Her Grandbishop

Tie o’ the Day is worn by Bishop Travis– Mom’s favorite grandchild. Of course, each of Mom’s grandchildren is her favorite. Just ask each one, and they’ll tell you they’re THE favorite.

Mom has had quite the quorum of visitors since she’s taken up residence at MCR. The Delta clan and Delta friends, her sister– Rosalie, Rosalie’s daughter– Natalie, Ron and Marie, Betty and Kent, Travis and Collette, Judie Curtis, Julie Damron, and plenty more. I’ve visited her a few times myself. She’s been living there only about a month and has received a trail of guests already. She is not lonely. And if nobody from outside MCR ever went to visit Mom, she’d still not be lonely. Most of the other residents are her longtime friends. And the staff dotes on her. So many of them have grown up knowing her, and eating her various treat creations.

Man, is she happy there! We hoped she would be. We knew she would be if she decided to be. But the transition itself was tough for her– until she actually got there. Truth be told, it was probably harder on us kids. Hell, I say “kids” despite the fact that we’re a hop, ski, and a jump from being old enough to move in there with her. I’m the baby of the family and I’m fifty-damn-four. I’ve always known I’m a big baby.

Almost everybody thinks their mom is the Best. Mom. Ever. Likewise, I feel the same about Mom. As an adult, I once had a friend– who had met Mom only once– say to me, “I wish my mom loved me as much as your mom loves you.” I’ve had other friends who’ve met her only briefly say similar things. Mom’s love shows. I was born lucky, and I know it. Mom is just plain cool.

BTW  Check out Mom’s hair. It’s all did for the week. And yes, she still tells everyone she needs a permanent. She will start saying the same thing a week after she gets her next one.

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Memories R U

I’ve been thinking about how much I enjoyed my balloon ride in Albuquerque a couple of weeks ago. Tie o’ the Day is here to tell you I had a whale of a good time.🤡 Honestly, I did. There are things you don’t even know you want to do, but after you do them, you can’t imagine what kept you from doing it for so long. My balloon flight is a perfect example of that. Why did I finally do it? Because I was there and the balloon was there. Simple as that. That single hot air balloon ride added a nifty story to the essence that is “me.”.

We should do more things like that, and for that reason: WE ARE HERE. We might be surprised sometimes about how important some things can become to us, when we didn’t even know we’d ever do them. Some of those because-it-was-there experiences might turn out to be boring, or we might even regret doing them. Or they could transform our perspective in a positive way. They could alter the course of our lives for the better. But how do we know how it’s going to turn out if we don’t get out of our comfort zone and try a thing or two we never seriously considered. I guess I’m saying to get into your “discomfort zone” and explore.

Jump off that intimidating too-high diving board. Decide where to go on vacation by closing your eyes and sticking a pin on a map. Go to a concert by a band you’ve never heard of before. Take a college course in a subject you think you don’t care about. Take up a sport you hate to watch. Strike up a real conversation with someone you don’t know very well. Ask an “enemy” to lunch. Volunteer to do good deeds you know you’re not very good at.

I could go on and on, but you get the idea. Face a fear. Experience something that isn’t something the “you” you think you are would normally do. It can be a bigly feat. It can be a teeny-tiny step. Whatever it is, it will enlarge your soul. You will be changed forever, if only in the sense that you’ll know yourself and the world better than you did before.

Memory is what you carry with you wherever you go, but you have to make memories in order to have them to carry. Get a very big backpack to haul them around. And don’t be selfish: unzip that backpack and share your memories with others. 🤠

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No Lectures Today

I’m wearing one of my truck ties as Tie o’ the Day, and I’ve got my gear shift Cufflinks o’ the Day for your viewing pleasure.

I’m contemplating my truck. Specifically, I’m thinking a blasphemous thought: It might be time to sell or trade in my beloved 98 Isuzu Hombre. I can’t believe I’m even considering the idea. But I’m not able to shift it right now, and maybe forever. Oh, Hombre is doing well for its age. My right shoulder, on the other hand, is not.

I’ve had arthritis in my shoulders for over decade, and moving the gear shift has been no problem. But whatever is going on with my shoulder now is something completely different. It hurts constantly with stabby, near-shocky bolts of pain. It feels like it wants to dislocate itself. I have a doc appointment next week, so I’ll get to the bottom of it, but my shoulder is as old as I am– and we all know what that means. Maybe it can be fixed. Maybe it’s just a new, unwelcome development of age. For right now, I’m more upset about not being able to drive Hombre than I am about my painful shoulder.

I never knew how important my right shoulder is. For example, I sleep on my right side, so I have not slept well since I can’t sleep on my right shoulder. Also, “my” side of the loveseat is on the right side, which means my drink and notebook and pen and nail file are to the right side of the loveseat. The pain in my right shoulder prohibits me from retrieving my drink, etc. from that side. Suzanne and I have had to switch butt-sides, so I can sit on the left to use my left arm.

I don’t know about you, but it’s a big deal to switch furniture sides, whether you’re switching places on the loveseat, the bed, or at the kitchen table. We have our seats. We have our places. We like it like that. I have no idea why people are like that, but we are.

Damn shoulder. I don’t want to not drive my truck. 😭

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Here’s A Lecture, But It’s Short.

Hat, Tie, Shirt, and Cufflinks o’ the Day sing out loudly in their clothing chorus: “The voting polls are still open. Hurry up and get your butt there, if you haven’t cast your ballot already.” Make sure you take the opportunity to flex your political muscle. You are a citizen, so act like it.

As United States citizens we don’t just have rights, we also have responsibilities. We forget about that bigly detail far too often. If you read The Bill of Rights carefully, you will see that our rights are interwoven with our responsibilities. I think the document would be better served by being called The Bill of Rights and Responsibilities. No, I’m not proposing we change the name. I’m proposing that we expand our perspective of The Bill of Rights to include the totality of the ideas the document actually contains.

Personally, I believe that if you have the incredible right to vote, you also have the responsibility to use that right. So use it. Just a thought.

My tiny Constitutional Law lecture is over. My name is Helen Eileen Wright, and I approved this message. 😸

 

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Just Sayin’

Got vote? If not, you must git ‘er done TODAY. Your vote is your ticket to gripe about politicians, and how they are letting the country go to Hell in the proverbial hand basket. Comfort yourself with this fact: Every generation of voters– after they reached their middle to late years– has thought that politicians were crooked, and that the country was going to hell in a hand basket. It’s an American tradition. We are following in our ancestors’ gripe-steps. And our country is still here. And we’re still here griping about hand baskets. 😉🇺🇸

GET YOUR VOTE ON!

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Mom And I Are A Handful

Mom enjoyed the snowmen on Tie o’ the Day (see this morning’s post photo). She occasionally had to reach over and feel Tie’s silkiness. And the cape Suzanne made me (see this morning’s post photo)? Mom could not get enough of it. She couldn’t model the cape around the facility though, because it was way too large for her. It would have trailed behind her like a lengthy wedding dress train. And then she would have tripped on it and fallen and broken her other hip. I’m not a big gal, but Mom is gradually shrinking out of even small-size clothing. My cape was a hit with her anyway.

I sat with Mom in the MCR salon while she got her nails painted a sparkly, shimmery pink. She says she thinks it’s the first time she’s ever worn nail polish. Mom said she wanted her nails done so she can catch men. I’m tellin’ ya– if Mom were seriously on the market, she’d be snatched off the market pretty darn quickly. But she is adamant that she is not now– nor will she ever be– on the market. If the guy ain’t Dad, she’s got no interest in the dating game whatsoever.

Mom and I had a swell visit, and we had our usual loud barrel o’ laughs. I admit we are rambunctious when we get together. Today was no exception, as evidenced by the fact that we were given the shhhh-keep-it-down look by an old lady resident who can’t even hear. I don’t think the problem for this woman was the decibel level as much as it was jealousy that Mom and I were having a rip-roarin,’ free-wheelin,’ crazy time. Everyone at the center who saw us, except this one person, seemed to have fun watching and listening to me and Mom have a blast. This particular hard-of-hearing person who somehow hears things as excessively loud is a nice enough lady. I do remember she was in my church ward when I was a kid, and I also remember there wasn’t one week when she didn’t give me the shhhh sign in Sacrament Meeting. Oh, well. My bad.

I’ll be a better influence on Mom the next time I visit her. NOT.

BTW  Suzanne was working today, so I drove down to Delta to see Mom by myself. However, before I left the house, Suzanne told me I had to go to Mom’s Crafts while I was in town– for 10 1/2 yards of quilt fabric. She told me to not bother coming home if I didn’t get the fabric. I cannot win. Fabric stores have become my destiny, and I don’t even sew.

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Up Early. Must Beat Rush Hour Traffic.

Tie o’ the Day and Cape o’ the Day are headed out the door with me before dawn, to take one of our lickety-split drives to Delta to see Mom– and we’ll be back this afternoon in time for Judge Judy. Mom and Judge Judy! Two of my all-time fave bad-ass women!

I chose this particular Tie o’ the Day for Mom’s benefit. Mom has a thing for snowmen. Even though I’m not dragging out the daily holiday ties yet, Mom deserves to see this one. Here’s a piece of wisdom for you: There is nothing wrong with trying to make your Mom jolly– ever. If your mom likes snowmen, give her snowmen– no matter what time of year it is.

Cape o’ the Day is the reverse side of the skull/Frida cape I showed off last week. Mom’s gonna get a kick out of this too. She will especially swoon all over it when she finds out Suzanne made it. OMGolly, Suzanne can do no wrong, as far as Mom’s concerned. Suzanne’s general good behavior and craft ability help me get away with my shenanigans. I guess Suzanne’s kind of my redeeming quality, whether or not she’s present with me. Her upstanding essence will be traveling with me today, in the guise of my Suzanne-made cape.

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Chuck Brown’s Only Shirt Inspires A Tie

Tie o’ the Day is a wood tie, created by a craftsman in Logan. He named this chevron design “Charlie Brown,” and I was lucky to get it when I did, because the style has been sold out for months, and the dude is probably not going to produce more of this style again.

The second photo here is the same tie, folded for storing when not in use. Wood neckties are fabulous, but most begin to feel a bit heavy to wear after a few hours at a time. I do not recommend wearing a wood necktie for an entire day at work. But wearing one for a dinner date or going to a performance of the symphony will go over smashingly. You probably shouldn’t wear a wood tie to a campfire where you plan to roast marshmallows and hot dogs though, unless you plan to use your tie for kindling.

In fact, you have to be cognizant of the fact that wearing a necktie can put you in peril, in a way that bow ties don’t. Oh, the neckties certainly don’t mean to be dangerous to their wearers, but they simply aren’t the most practical neckwear to wear in certain situations. I’m not just talking about situations like trying to keep your tie out of the paper shredder when you shred your secret spy documents. For example, don’t wear a necktie when you’re doing some downhill skiing. It’ll work its way out of your ski coat and fly up over your ski goggles, blinding you. Before you know it…. hello, tree! Hello, Sonny Bono.

Also, don’t wear a necktie if you’re going to be stirring together the spell ingredients you’re boiling in your witch’s cauldron. The bottom of your tie is bound to accidentally dip into the brew, and some living monstrosity in that goop will most certainly grab your tie and pull you in. Bubble, bubble, toil, and trouble. See ya!

There are circumstances in which neckties should be employed more often than they are. If you have a dog who loves to stick its head out the window of a moving car (or ride in the truck bed), for example, allow your dog to wear one of its neckties the next time you go for a Sunday drive. The dog will not only enjoy its usual wind-blown flapping ears and flapping lips, but it will be thrilled to have its very own necktie flapping right along with it. And your mutt’s blowing necktie will also indicate to others that your dog is respecting the Sabbath. Nice doggie.

Bow Ties are almost completely safe from possible necktie dangers. And I vehemently vouch for this next fact: Wearing a bow tie actually makes you safer than not wearing one. You see, bow ties have a cute-factor to them. I’ve told you before that bow ties are kinda charmingly disarming and tend to make people smile. If a mugger is smiling at your bow tie, you can be sure that criminal is gonna pass right by you and go mug somebody else. And if you accidentally cut off a car on the freeway, that driver who’s instantly developing road rage towards you will look at you, see the bow tie, and likely lose the rage. Instead of getting the middle finger, you might just get the peace sign.

More than that– bow ties give you an advantage in the world of finance. Need a bank loan? Wear a funny bow tie to your appointment with the antagonistic loan manager, and not only will you get the loan, even if your credit sucks– you’ll get a couple of thousand bucks more than you applied for. And the loan manager will make sure the money gets into your account on that very same day. You think I jest, but I do not. The power of the bow tie cannot be denied.

I mean no disrespect to neckties. I adore them as much as any neckwear to be found. A necktie is nifty as heck. But a bow tie is a superhero. All hail, to the bow tie!