Month: May 2020

Posted on

Money To Burn

For decades, Mom and her best friend, Peggy, made a daily Pepsi run. Peggy would drive one day, Mom would drive the next. They’d pull up to the drive-up window at any one of a number of Delta’s finest establishments. It was the Cardwell gas station for the last few years of their Pepsi-running. There was always a brief tiff over whose turn it was to pay. Drink in hand, they would cruise the roads of Millard County. Even the Stake President once acknowledged their presence in a Relief Society meeting by referring to them as the ladies who drink and drive. His wife made him apologize to them later, but they thought it was funny. And all the church ladies of the Delta West Stake understood and thought it was funny too.

There came a time when Mom could no longer drive, so I drove them when it was her turn. When Mom got rid of her car, I began to drive them in Peggy’s car when it was Mom’s turn. Eventually, I became the official chauffeur of their daily forays to and fro across the county, always in Peggy’s car. If you ever experienced the comedy routine that was Mom’s and Peggy’s friendship, I don’t have to explain how exhausting and enlightening and uplifting it could be to be around them. If you never had the chance to see them be friends live and in-person, all I can say is that you missed something wonderful. Now Mom lives in a care center and Peggy is gone.

It was because of Mom and Peggy that one day I truly regretted not having bigly bucks in my bank account to waste on one humongous good laugh. It’s the only time in my life I have been ticked off that I wasn’t awash in wealth. We had just picked up our daily drinks and we were driving out of Delta on Lone Tree Road, when I got this vision. I wanted to buy a motorcycle, with two side-cars attached for Mom and Peggy. I wanted to jump on the bike and drive Mom and Peggy—and their drinks—up over the overpass, and up and down Main Street, then all across every paved and dirt road in the county. And the old broads would have gone along with it—once, just to make everyone who saw them laugh.

Well, of course, I told Mom and Peggy my plan-which-wouldn’t-happen. We all got a kick out of envisioning it. I said, “You know you would do it.” The minute I said that, they both replied in unison as if they’d practiced the line for years, “Yes, but not on hair day.”

I couldn’t find a side-car for my bicycle, but I did manage to find a bike trailer for Skitter to accompany me on my bike outings. I’m letting the skittish mutt get used to her trailer for a few days before we head out on an actual trek. Here, she wears her Tie o’ the Day, looking forward to our meandering daily journeys. We wish Mom and Peggy could come with us.

Posted on

Born Into Blue

TIE O’ THE DAY challenges y’all to guess what major university employs this little Bow Tie o’ the Day’s parents. I’ve promised myself to wear red whenever I’m around Gracie, and to whisper “Go to the University of Utah” in her ear every flippin’ time I get a chance—just to bring a proper Utah balance to our fledgling munchkin.

Posted on

I Ain’t Got No Stinkin’ COVID-19

I was able to go to my physical therapy appointment at the U of U this morning, cuz yesterday I got the news I passed my COVID-19 test. I had to prove I was virus-free before the staff at Pain Management Center would even open the door to me and wood Bow Tie o’ the Day. It was my first PT visit for the current torso distress I find myself in. (It feels like my ribs are squeezing my innards to death.) I am not convinced PT will do a dang bit of good for what aches me now, but I will do as I am told. I felt the same hopelessness about going to PT for my gnarly rotator cuff last year, but PT almost completely eliminated my shoulder issues. And so, I will give PT for my gut a whole-hearted go.

By the time I was done with today’s PT appointment, I had been through a thing called “trigger point dry needling” therapy, which I had never heard of before. It is sorta like acupuncture, but with electricity being pumped through the needles and into whatever muscles they are sticking out of. Electrified needles protruded down both sides of my spine and across my belly for most of my appointment. I kid you not.

While I was experiencing dry needling, it came to me. Here’s how you can determine whether or not you’ve hit your pain limit: You know you’ve hit your pain limit if you’re happily willing to endure new and different pain for the merest smidgen of a chance to get rid of the old familiar pain. Or something like that.

Posted on

Playing With Post-it Notes In A Pandemic

I’m on official quarantine until I get the results of my COVID-19 test in the next day or two. After I drove to Farmington to take the test this morning, I came home to an empty house for the first time since mid-March—because today was Suzanne’s first day back to work at the office. I decided to throw caution to the wind, and be the baddest bad I can think to be. I’m free!!! No more supervision!!! I’ve been a civilized, quiet camper in the house with Suzanne doing her job at home all these weeks. I have reined in my whims so I wouldn’t interrupt her scrupulous brainwork or any of her Zoom/Teams/FaceTime/etc. meetings. Today, I was finally free to turn up my music to decibel levels I could hear without my hearing aids.

That kept me interested for about 25 minutes. I tried really hard to come up with a gazillion wacky, house-based plans I could play out while unchaperoned and in quarantine—you know, things I haven’t been able to do with Suzanne here to keep an eye on me all day. But I couldn’t think of anything I want to do that I can’t do with her here to keep me in check. Maybe I’m just boring today. I did, however, break out the “good” Post-it Notes and go wild.

FYI If you are an office product aficionado like I am, you know exactly what I mean about the “good” Post-it Notes. They are the ones you rarely use because they are so cool you never want to run out of them. They are like the “good” staples (colored) or the “good” paper clips (coated and colored). I could go on about the “good” tape, pens, file folders, paper, and etc. But I won’t. Not right now anyway. Suzanne will be home from work in 10 minutes, and I have to come up with a believable reason for why I had time to play with Post-it Notes but couldn’t get the dishes done.

Posted on

Tested

Well, I have an in-office pain specialist appointment in SLC in a few days, but before I’m allowed to actually enter the office, I am required to take a COVID-19 test. So this morning, I threw on a mustache wood Bow Tie o’ the Day, and I managed to wrangle Skitter into the car with me for a drive to the Farmington Station U of U Hospital, where they have drive-thru COVID-19 testing. Skitter and I sang Lumineers songs together in the car while waiting in line, and she was very brave. She even held my hand through the entire drive-thru testing process.

The testing itself was a shock to my system—only because I didn’t know it was going to be done quite that far up my nose. Ever had a really long toothpick shoved all the way up your nose for exactly 5 seconds? The stick may have been only about the circumference of a toothpick, but when it’s poked up your nose for 5 seconds it feels like an angry ponderosa pine.

I get the results in 24-48 hours. Kudos to the U of U Hospital folks performing the tests. The process was streamlined and professional. The testers also liked my mask.

Posted on

Proud To Be

Not even a pandemic can keep me and Bow Tie o’ the Day from extending our sincere gratitude to the women and men who served ‘Merica with honor and principle, for little ol’ me and little ol’ you. TIE O’ THE DAY gives thanks.

Posted on

A Long Weekend? I Thought That’s What We’ve Been Having For The Last 2 Months

Just sittin’ around waiting for the three-day weekend to begin. Got a pocket square which matches Bow Tie o’ the Day, as well as a tank top pocket to hold it.

We don’t have any specific plans set for the weekend yet, but you know I’ll come up with something post-worthy. What I really want to do this weekend is drive to Delta and kidnap Mom from the care center for a couple of hours, and take her up to visit Dad’s grave—where she can pretend to be mad at him, as she demands him to “get the Hellen up from under that awesome headstone.” But breaking Mom out of lockdown isn’t in the cards this year.

I am not a gal who enjoys fighting my way through mobs of folks, even when we aren’t in the midst of a pandemic, so I pay my respects at cemeteries on any day that’s not Memorial Day. It’s too people-y on that day. I have, however, always been a Memorial Day lookie-loo who drives by cemeteries to see the graves all gussied-up, but from a bigly distance. I suppose you could say that doing cemetery drive-by’s is my own tradition of Memorial Day social distancing.

Posted on

When In Doubt, Wear A Hat

Lavender Bow Tie o’ the Day knows a swell hat can win you lots of admirers. The dapper-er the hat, the groovier. Aside from baseball caps and cowboy hats, we are not a varied hat-wearing culture. In fact, ‘Mericans are largely a hatless people. I vote for immediate change. Go buy yourself an audacious hat. Wear it everywhere you go. Wear it with your mask. Flaunt its pizazz. Let it be your crown.

Posted on

What’s Wrong With This Picture?

Something very wrong is happening here. It’s Spring, and it’s cold outside, which makes a long-sleeved shirt and a flannel Tie o’ the Day must-wear items. We are three weeks into May, and even in Utah, I should not have to get dressed as if it’s February. I take personal offense at the way the weather toys with me annually at this time o’ the year. Alas and forsooth! I shall wrap my flannel tie around me for warmth and try to forget how picked on by the cosmos I truly am. 🌬 ❄️ 😁

BTW This is a prime photo of my Spock ear, which has always been my sexiest feature.