Witty & Wise Ties, Trivia & Lies
Here is yet another picture of all my siblings (plus 2 honorary siblings) long before I was even a thought. Clockwise, beginning with Mom holding Rob; Julie Crane; my Sister Who Wishes To Remain Nameless; Ron; Wendy Crane; Mercedes/BT. If I had been available on Earth to be in the pic, I would have been the one wearing a Church Bow Tie o’ the Day. As if you didn’t already know that.
Last week I decided that until Miss Tiffany at Great Clips can cut my head hairs, TIE O’ THE DAY will host “Hairs Thursday” posts. They will feature my ever-growing, in-need-of-a-cut, pandemic hairs. But when I came upon this slide o’ Easter “bonnets” atop these kids’ noggins, I couldn’t pass it up. The head gear is as swell as anything my head hairs are doing right now.
My brother, Ron, is wearing the Easter grass nest. I’m not sure who the other kid is. Might be a Wankier boy or Ralph McCall. I think his hat is supposed to be a blooming Spring flower. Both head coverings are tied onto their little boy heads with bows. This head-covering Easter tradition is one that I somehow totally missed. But I think we should bring it back into vogue.
If you’re from my hometown of Deltabama, UT, you probably know some of the folks in these slides. You won’t see Dad anywhere because he must have been the official photographer.
I can’t find any ties or bow ties on anybody, but Mom’s cat sunglasses at Hoover Dam certainly qualify as Sunglasses o’ the Day. Check out her wild pants too. From left to right: Helen Barney, Mom, Peggy and Grant Crane. There’s no date on the slide, but I’m guessing they visited Hoover Dam together in the early 60’s.
The other two pix were taken in our living room, long before I was born—probably the mid-50’s. Again, Dad was the official photographer. I imagine Mom catered the affair. The dinner party must have been a celebration, but I can’t tell exactly what that might have been. The fashion is snappy, eh? I can identify most of the guests: Mom is in the middle of the second slide, wearing red and her apron. Also at her table are Helen and Joe Barney. At the next table, you can see Peggy and Grant Crane, and—I think—Donna and Clark Cox. Glen Gardner is sitting in the chair under the lamp, and his first wife, Irma, is to Peggy’s right. I don’t remember the names of the other couple, but I do remember them.
My fave thing about the third slide is how Peggy Crane has thrown back her head, overcome with laughter.
I just realized something. Mom is the only one in the pix who is still alive. Our family is lucky. I might have to break in to the care center to see her soon.
I can forgive Dad for not wearing a Tie o’ the Day to go goose hunting. Dad is the taller dude on the left. His hunting buddy is Joe Barney. They were friends from practically the minute they were born, and it shook Dad horribly when Joe died far too soon. This slide is undated, but a safe bet would be that it was snapped in the mid-50’s.
See how Dad and Joe apparently mesmerized the geese into letting the mighty hunters tromp right into their little geese gaggle. Golly! It’s as if the geese practically leapt up into Dad’s and Joe’s hands. See how the geese look exactly alike. If I still hunted, this is how I’d do it. But I’d be wearing a bow tie while I hunted. One of my camo bow ties, of course.
Hey! Here are three pics of me sleeping. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.Bow Tie o’ the Day across my eyes is one of the larger bow ties I have in my collection, which allows it to function perfectly as a sleep mask. Ain’t no light gettin’ through my sleeping eyelids while I’m wearing this.
I didn’t realize I used to sleep in a laundry basket. We must have been poorer than I thought.😉 You can see I’m having my fave early-kidhood snack: I’m suckin’ my thumb, while clutching my blanket. What a life o’ luxury I lived, even then!
The photo of me sleeping in the bassinette is proof of the one and only time I’ve slept with no worry written across my forehead.
I was born an only child, with four siblings. My oldest sibling (Mercedes/BT) is 15 years older than me. My Sister Who Wishes To Remain Nameless is 13 years older. I have no recollection of them even living at home when I was a child. By the time I was beyond my toddlerhood and into a full-blown childhood, Ron and Rob, who are 10 and 6 years older than yours truly, were teenagers—which means they were never home. And then they were out building their own adult lives. I was home alone, sibling-wise, for most of my growing up. My nature is that of a lone wolf, so having the run of the house to myself suited me just fine. It was as if my parents had their family, and then I sort of wandered in from the Pre-existence and made myself at home.
Bow Tie o’ the Day in these pictures is the bow tied on my hoodie. Note my cork gun is present in one pic, so there’s no question of my paternity. The pup you see there is the family dog, whose name was actually Dumb Dumb—which is weird because the word “dumb” was kind of a swear word in our house. You could not call anyone “dumb.” No matter how dumb they were.😉
I was working away upstairs in my Psycho Bunny-brand Tie o’ the Day this afternoon, just peacefully minding my own business. Okay, I admit I was singing too, which some will say is not a peaceful sound. Anyhoo… I made the bed. I folded clothes and put them in drawers. I got lost in my chores. Somebody’s dog kept barking up a storm outside, with that high-pitched yappy bark of smaller dogs which I cannot abide to listen to. But on I slaved. I made a stop at the computer in the loft to check my email, and then I got lost in doing that for way too long. That dang dog kept going. But the yapping reminded me that a couple of doors in the house had been squeaking, so off I went to the garage to find the WD-40 to solve that problem, which I did.
After returning the WD-40 to its spot in the garage, I decided it was time to crack open a frosty can of sparkling water and spend some time sitting with Skitter on the couch. But the dog I could still hear barking outside was getting on my top nerve, so I decided I had to go find it and its person before I could finally sit down and relax with Skitter. I wanted to give both the owner and dog a lecture about how to be a good neighbor in the neighborhood by not letting your dog bark outside for two hours, driving the rest of us neighbors crazy.
As I approached the patio door to go outside, there it was! That infernal barky, yappy mutt was in my back yard, right out on the patio—on its hind legs, knocking its front paws against the sliding door to get in as it barked!
Ahoy! It was none other than my very own personal dog, Skitter, herself. I had completely forgotten I had put her outside to potty before I started my round of chores. I have never, ever done anything remotely like that to our little rescue darling before. I make it my business to always know exactly where The Skit has parked herself, and that she feels safe in her environs. It’s my job. Golly, I oughta fire myself.
The poor, tortured thing! O’ the trauma I unintentionally put her through! The horror! The horror! Gee, I feel about a centimeter tall right now. Skitter wasn’t shaking too bigly when she came back in the house, although she was a little hoarse when we howled together as we were reunited. Other than that, she seems to be recovering from her temporary terror just fine. I, however, am still quaking in my cougar-print Sloggers at my enormous mistake.
The wind was so fierce it blew Mom’s Tie o’ the Day clean off her neck. Or something like that. But her hair is perfect. Mom has always loved her hairspray.
This slide has always been a family favorite. Even Mom looked forward to seeing it turn up in the slide rotation. It is dated 1968, but I don’t know where it was taken. I should have paid more attention to location details during our family get-togethers for slide-watching on the living room wall. The exact circumstance of the picture is unclear, but I have a feeling Dad was giving all the directions. “Hey, Helen. Go stand sideways over by the edge, facing into the wind.” He probably cracked a joke about “mountain ranges” or some such thing. I’m sure she was replying to him with jokes as snappy as his. I’m also sure they were both loving every minute of it.
She misses him so.
My oldest bro, Ron, once again sports our Tie o’ the Day. I must also give a bigly shout-out to his swingin’ Sport Coat o’ the Day, which I have coveted my whole life. Rob dandied up in the hip red dickey under his dress shirt.
It’s Sunday, folks. Be grateful for your church clothes.
You know the sort of day I’m writing about. Your bib apron is fastened to you with a Bow Tie o’ the Day on your back. You’ve worked too hard. You’ve played too hard. You’re so exhausted you collapse into a sudden sleep on the rug between the living room and the kitchen—still clutching your melting ice cream cone. Yup. That kind of day. 😂
FYI This is one of my sisters. TIE O’ THE DAY is pretty sure the star of this slide is my firstborn sibling, Mercedes/BT. It was taken in the early 50’s.