Tie o’ the Day reminds us of the proverbial “reason for the season” of Christmas. Tie’s scripture is from Psalms 16:11. Tie is joined by a nativity scene Christmas tree ornament created by my Grandma, Zola Wright. (She was Momo to her grandkids.) I do believe her craft imagination exceeded even Suzanne’s. Who woulda thunk to make this ornament? Momo.
This little nativity scene is set in milkweed pods. I remember this decoration from as far back as I can remember anything, so it’s probably at least fifty years old. It is now in extremely fragile condition, so I am overly protective of it. I bring it out for a short time each Christmas season, and I gingerly put it away in its private box until the next year. The box is made of wood– strong enough to protect this precious item from being crushed, or otherwise harmed.
Although this nativity scene was made to be a Christmas tree ornament, I don’t hang it on the tree. I’m afraid it might accidentally fall to the floor and shatter. I’m equally afraid the character figures might simply give up the glue ghost and fall out. I lay it on its back. Momo made this before the advent of crafty glue guns, and the Elmer’s glue which she used is not holding all the figures to the pods anymore. I’m quite amazed that the gold rick-rack still adheres as a frame for the nativity. (I don’t have plans to re-glue things. I’m keepin’ it real.)
The ornament is kitschy, I know. But it reminds me so much of how Momo enjoyed her projects. She was perpetually in the midst of creating art pieces out of tidbits and scraps. I miss how excited she was to display the treasures she built. The shelves in her house were filled with her wonders to behold, especially to kids. Momo was an elegant, humble woman, but she was a proud show-off when it came to her crafts.
Bow Tie o’ a Few Days Ago sports Santa and a snowperson. Ties o’ a Few Days Ago give us a snowboarding polar bear, a snowboarding Santa, and Santa and his wifey bringing home their Christmas tree. Why the penguins are on top of the Claus’s car, I have no idea. I especially have no idea why they are seat-belted to the Christmas tree. But hey, it’s a jolly scene.
I snapped this photo earlier in the week, when I was still able to put my ties around my neck and tie them. Glad I did that. I pride myself on my post photos being taken on the day I post them. I like you to see what I’m actually wearing on that day– or what I wore the evening before on some outing. It helps make my posts “true” or maybe “authentic” is a better word. I also don’t write my posts ahead of time, even if the pic is from something I did the night before.
But sometimes I do take a couple of “extra” photos to have “in case” I want to do a post and I’m– for some reason– unable to use my phone camera, or will be somewhere I don’t have access to different ties to put on. A pre-taken pic in my media library comes in handy. Like today, when I can’t lift my arm to perform tie things. Stoopid, stoopid roto cuff. I want it roto-rootered.
I know it’s not even Christmas yet, but I’ve already made my New Year’s resolutions. Really it’s just one resolution: For 2019, I resolve to have no more health issues. I’m going to grit my teeth, and I’m going to will myself to keep aging pains from happening– as well as any other type of injury or ailment. It is my sole goal. I know I’m pretending I have control over my falling-apart body, but I pretend a lot of things. Delusions? Rationalizations? Tilting at windmills? All of the above.
Personally, I think the very act of making resolutions is where the real power is. Whether we accomplish our goals or not, making them means we are examining ourselves. It means we’ve looked at ourselves and we’ve identified ways in which we want to be better. Looked at from that perspective, resolutions are like bullet points on a list. They are the highlights of what we think we most need to improve about our souls and our little corner of the world. Being self-aware is the kind of thing that improves us a bit, without us even consciously doing anything else. You’re a better person, just by knowing yourself better. But don’t stop there. Accomplish your change.
I am not a whiner, but this year has been a painful body fail for me. I’ve had enough. If I can achieve my New Year’s resolution, I will be relieved to not have to feel my body’s decrepitness. And more importantly, you will feel extremely relieved to not have to read about it.
I was afraid of this. My dang rotator cuff is in such a dire state this afternoon that I am unable to tie my ties. Apparently, my shoulder has also aggravated the arthritis in my right hand. And even though all of my bow ties are pre-tied at the factory (as per my request), I am unable to lift my right arm into a position that allows me to clasp their bands together around my neck. What’s a girl to do?
And there’s one more thing, and it’s a bigly thing. This afternoon my shoulder kept me from raising my arm high enough to take my tie-and-face selfie. (I can’t snap a pic with just one hand.) In case you’re sad about seeing no selfie of my visage, Ties o’ the Day give you a selfie o’ elves and a selfie o’ Santa and Mrs. Claus.
Excuse my extreme pessimism, but what if my sorry, can’t-raise-my-arm situation continues? I’m sure you’d enjoy looking at my neckwear collection without my selfie face ruining the photos, but that would probably get boring after a few days– no matter how interesting the ties and their adventures might be. I’ve done faceless posts before, although not regularly. But no face for two tie posts per day, for who-knows-how-long? Or no face in a post photo forever? I ask it again: What’s a girl to do?
I’m sure Suzanne would do the tie tying for me, but she has a real job. Where would she find the time to dress my neck AND still go to the office AND still sew? Well, she couldn’t. Hours in a day are finite. Nor would I let her give up any of her valuable sewing time, even if she offered. She deserves her crafty/sewy play time. Also, the hours it would take Suzanne to tie ties on my neck, or hook the clasps of my bow ties, would cut into the hours she spends sewing me capes. We can’t have that.
As long as my arm remains painfully near-dead, I suppose I will end up using Skitter frequently as a model. I can drape untied and unclasped neckwear all over her, and she is fun to look at. She’s also patient when I stage her and the neckwear for photos. I guess I could drape untied ties on me too. I’ve done that on occasion, but it doesn’t have the same jazzy effect. A photograph of neckwear without a face above it is neither dramatic nor dynamic enough to grab the attention my neckwear is due.
I will now go to The Tie Room to meditate about this predicament. I’m sure I’ll be inspired to figure out a workable plan. The Tie Room has speshul powers o’ enlightenment, and I treat it with the respect I would give any other chapel or shrine.
Our Tie o’ the Day is a prime example of what can happen when you buy a tie online. I thought I was ordering a silly tie with a bunch of waving Santa’s and a single mooning Santa with a “Kiss my ass” attitude. Groovy, right? Lo and behold! What I got was one mooner and a herd of Santa’s flipping off the world. Sorry.
Except I’m not actually sorry. I’m amused. I feel like I got a bonus chuckle, beyond just the mooner I thought I was getting. C’mon. It’s not like it’s sacriSantareligious to see Santa lose it all across a Tie o’ the Day. And you know in your heart Santa has surely got to get a little fed up with all the “I want, I want, I want” this time of year.
Oh, Santa’s a professional all right, but all those full-diapered, runny-nosed, germy kids sitting on his lap– well, that has got to take a toll on even Santa’s nerves. So go ahead, let him flip off a soul or two. Let him moon the passers-by. He’ll get over his lapse of decorum in time for the next scheduled line of kids to sit on his lap and cry in fear of the bigly, bearded, red dude. And he’ll most certainly be set to perform his Santa-ly duties professionally on Christmas Eve. For now, I’m wearing this somewhat irreverent tie when I walk Skitter through the neighborhood.
What a day! You know it’s true that I like to have escapades, but today’s goings-on didn’t make me all that joyous– despite my festive Bow Ties o’ the Day and Ties o’ the Day.
The “swear” word I heard my dad use when something broke, or otherwise went wrong, was BALLS. And then he would apologize to me for saying it. He was not a regular profanity guy, but I do know he swore a bit. I once observed Mom help him walk around in their house after his heart surgery, to get his strength up. He was in bigly pain. His pain was such that he said BALLS every other step, and promptly apologized to Mom each time for doing it. With each other step, he would say real swear words. Again, he would immediately apologize to Mom after saying each one. It was as if all the swear words had a last name and it was SORRY. Mom didn’t fuss about it. In fact, a couple of years after that, she had a similar heart surgery, and the tables turned. When Dad helped Mom walk, she did not say BALLS in response to her pain with each footstep. But she did utter a few of the more minor swear words– SHIT being her go-to.
When I went to my shoulder specialist a couple of days ago, he prescribed me physical therapy for my stoopid rotator cuff. Off I went to my initial PT appointment at 7 damn AM today. I knew therapy would amp up the pain that’s already killing me. And I already know PT will not work. Been there, done that years ago. But I have to jump though this PT hoop in order to convince my insurance I need the expensive scope procedure I already know I need. I will do what AETNA tells me to do. I’m blessed to be able to afford health insurance, so if I have to jump through a hoop or two, I will say the proverbial, “How high?”
My shoulder felt mostly not-worse as I left the physical therapist’s office, but when I turned the key in the car ignition… a new OUCH! But it got much worse. I could barely put the car in drive. Another new OUCH, followed by a swear word or two. I am not a swearer, but the bad words just flowed. I haven’t been able to drive my Hombre for weeks already, cuz it’s a stick. What the flip will I do if I can’t drive Vonnegut Grace Vibe?
I managed to drive home safely. Sorta. I was driving along minding my own beeswax a block from home, singing my lungs out to BAND OF HORSES… And then the red and blue lights lit up. Long story short, I got a speeding ticket. I have never gotten a speeding ticket in my entire existence, and that includes the Pre-existence! It was one of those speeding tickets that was on the ticket/warning fence. 32 mph in a 25. I hoped for a warning. I’m not angry about getting the ticket, cuz I did the crime. And I love me my police officers. However, I am ticked off at myself for paying more attention to my howling singing and my yowling rotator cuff than to Vonnegut Grace’s speedometer. Mostly, I am disappointed that the cameras from LivePD weren’t with my cops. Being on LivePD is one of my life’s dreams. (BTW It took two cops to deal with my dangerous law-breaking.)
I began cogitating about the powers of neckwear after I got home. When I got pulled over, I was wearing the silvery Christmas balls Tie o’ the Day you see in the photo. If I had been wearing a bow tie– holiday bow tie or not– I have no doubt it would have nudged the cop to be satisfied with giving me only a warning, instead of a speeding citation. Bow ties are like that. They make onlookers melt. They soften the heart. Bow ties catch people by surprise. I will no longer wear any neckwear but a bow tie when I drive. And it also might help if I don’t speed.
Striped Bow Tie o’ the Day is pleased to debut one side of the new wintry cape Suzanne created for me a couple of weeks ago. I thought Suzanne deserved to model my cape in the TIE O’ THE DAY spotlight since she works so tirelessly to make my whims become reality. Not everyone is willing to make capes, even for those they love. Ask yourself if your person would sew you a cape if you really, really, really wanted one. That’ll tell you where you stand.
Please note that Suzanne is in her pajamas under the cape, and I took the photo at 4:04 PM today, a Wednesday. Suzanne woke up with a bad headache this morning, so she said NO to going into work today. We jointly declared it to be a Pajama Day. What did Suzanne do with her day off? She slept-in half the day. Surprise, surprise. And now she’s working on a quilt top, which teems with doggies. Surprise, surprise. She’s laid out the fabric on the floor, figuring out the perfect arrangement of panels. (That’s the best use of floors.) Look at all those teeny squares she took the time to “fussy cut” and piece together. And take a guess who is the intended getter o’ Suzanne’s blanket creation. I’m not worthy! I’m not worthy!
Christmas-y Bow Tie o’ Yesterday accompanied me to the new hospital in Layton. I cannot remember the new hospital’s name. I was in too much distress to give a damn. I simply followed the directions the Google Maps GPS voice gave me.
What was my ouch problem? That stoopid right shoulder o’ mine. Only ten days ago I was in Bountiful at my shoulder specialist, where I received a cortisone shot. Darn rotator cuff. You can’t make it better by putting a snazzy cufflink on that kind of cuff. The cortisone shot worked, and helped the pain significantly. For three whole days. It was supposed to lessen the pain for at least three months. Rotator cuff fail. Once again, I need assistance to get dressed.
So off I went to see my specialist again, this time in his Layton office at the new hospital which name I can’t recall because I didn’t pay attention to the name because I was in pain and hadn’t had much sleep because my shoulder was acting up because my rotator cuff is hashed probably from back in the day when I was a pro wrestler as a second job because teaching didn’t pay enough because we say we value teachers in the public schools but we really don’t want our taxes to go up so we can pay them what they deserve and then we get mad at the teachers whose salaries suck whenever our kids disrespect them or get crappy grades cuz they’re our precious little babies so it must be the a-hole teachers’ fault but maybe my rotator cuff was hashed up back when I was a Navy Seal and saved the world from matters of such national security that to tell you about my missions would require me to then kill you because you knew the secrets or maybe my right shoulder is toast because I type TIE O’ THE DAY twice a day and although I’m left-handed I do almost everything else with my right hand and because I don’t know how to type I hunt-and-peck type and mostly with my right hand so maybe I’m going to have to learn to become a true left-hander and use my left hand for everything I do although I have never been able to use lefty scissors even though I tried all through my illustrious elementary school career and left-handed kid scissors remind me of Elementary School art projects which harks me back to eating elementary school paste with my friends in Mrs. Reid’s 2nd Grade classroom during recess until Mrs. Judd caught us…..and so on.
And OMGolly, that stream-of-consciousness, all-the-words-run-together-so-it’s-hard-to-read paragraph above seems to be evidence my sometimes-fibbing, storytelling mind is getting back in kilter. Or it’s getting off-kilter in the right way for me to be able to write posts again. I’m back, it appears. Sorta. Knock on wood. Or pergo. Or laminate. Whatever you’ve got.
Bow Ties o’ the Day caught up with their “matching” A CHRISTMAS STORY character bobbleheads. While staging this little scene for the photo, it very quickly dawned on me that when I am in the bipolar space I’m in this week, my head actually feels like it bobbles. I feel like I’m a bigly bobblehead. Perhaps that’s my superpower. I am The Bobbler! Maybe I’m even The Bipolar Bobbler!
One Bow Tie o’ the Day gives us mutts dressed in warm Christmas-color garb, while the other Bow Tie o’ the Day gives us wiener dogs wearing jingle-belled collars and nifty antlers. Tie o’ the Day shows us how a penguin makes a field goal. Honestly, I am not a fan of the word “cute.” It’s overused. But for these pieces o’ neckwear, “cute” is an entirely apt word. I’ll use it. This time.
