Even glasses wood Bow Tie o’ the Day can see that if the pandemic keeps me from getting Miss Tiffany to cut my hairs soon, I am well on my way to becoming Cousin It for Halloween.
Pandemic Hairs Thursday, Yet Again
Mom And Skitter Miss Each Other
When I talk to Mom on the phone, she always wants to know what Skitter is up to. I tell Mom Skitter is up to the same things she always is: She sleeps, potties, eats, runs around like crazy, naps, barks at the world, eats, potties, and sleeps again. She naps in as many different places as she she can, all day long. That’s when Mom tells me her daily routine at MCR is the very same as Skitter’s. That’s when I tell Mom that’s exactly why she and The Skit love and miss each other. You can surely tell Mom and Skitter apart in these photos. Mom is the one with the cup o’ Pepsi, and Skitter is the one wearing her Tie o’ the Day.
Mom’s Individual Fashion
One of the bigly things Mom misses while she’s on lock-down inside Millard Care and Rehab is their regular field trips into the community. Here she is last year, on a field trip to Nephi for lunch at Lisa’s Country Kitchen. Mom is wearing her James Dean shades, as she does 24/7. Her neck bling is holding her cell phone. She’s got her corsage on for no reason other than she’s Mom, and that’s how she rolls. But the true Helen Sr. style shines out in her Slippers o’ the Day. Mom knows that your personal fashion should scream out to everyone exactly who you are.
Mom Knows All
Some days we just need a glimpse of yesteryear—with Mom on my porch, holding her glass of Pepsi. Note the can of oven cleaner next to Mom. She had been spraying ants on the sidewalk with Raid on her way over to my house, but used up all the ant spray. She went back in her house and retrieved a can of oven cleaner, which she sprayed into ant-filled sidewalk cracks from her place to mine. She told me the oven cleaner spray killed ants just as well as ant spray. Batman Bow Tie o’ the Day did not argue with Mom about her scientific discovery.
Fashion Truth
I rarely post something which is not my creation or story, but this is a timeless fashion truth I ran across in my old files. TIE O’ THE DAY agrees with this visual aid. Wear what makes you happy, not just trendy things fashion scientists tell you that you must. Except for masks. Wear masks right now, no matter how silly you think a mask makes you look. You and those around you will certainly look alive if y’all wear masks.
My New Hat, And Old “Dad Humor”
Wearing my new flat-bill, hip-hop hat is almost the same as wearing a bow in my hair. It is our Bow Tie o’ the Day.
The left side of my face is settling down. The gift of swelling the stinging wasps gave me is almost gone. My face is just about back to my usual old lady puffiness. Some of the sting sites are highly visible to the naked photo eye, but not all of them. Trust me—I know where all the stingers made contact because those sites still itch. And that leads me to Benadryl. I am not fond of Benadryl. It makes me drowsy. It doesn’t make me tired enough to be able to nap, which would be fine with me. It just makes me too drowsy to read, or write, or drive, or follow the plot of whatever show I’m watching on TV. I’m trying to make today a Benadryl-free day. Here’s hoping the itchiness does not overcome me. I need to get some work done.
I am a bit sad to see the swelling on my face go down. I have had such fun with it. In fact, for a couple of days I felt like my dad. You know how “Dad humor” is. We’ve all experienced the same “Dad humor” from our fathers. We’ve watched our fathers beat a joke to death. It happens like this: 1. Dad says a clever, jokey thing. 2. Dad tries to fit the clever, jokey comment into every conversation with every person he runs into that day—or for a few days. 3. Dad tells every person to whom he tells the jokey thing, about everybody else he said it to, and he describes what their reactions were. 4. The clever, jokey comment dies away when “Dad” thinks of a new clever, jokey comment. And the cycle repeats.
So how does this relate to my feeling like Dad because I’ve had a swollen left eye and right ear? The day after I was attacked by the wasps, I had to go to Dick’s Market to do some grocery shopping and pick up some prescriptions. The folks who work at Dick’s know me. The minute I walked in, a cashier nearly ran me down asking what happened to my face. I automatically said, “I got on Suzanne’s nerves.” I passed three more store employees on my way to the pharmacy, and I said similar clever, jokey comments to each one when they asked me what happened. Their reactions were the same: Silence. Laughter. Then I move on. It was intoxicating. I realized that I was feeling Dad-mode. At the pharmacy, the pharmacists and techs all had to see the swelling for themselves. “I guess I finally irritated Suzanne beyond all reason,” I answered when they queried me about what happened. I heard the silence, then the chuckles, then a chorus of, “Yeah, right!” They know Suzanne too.
Wasp Attack Update
Bow Tie o’ the Day and I thought we should keep you up-to-date about my wasp-stung left eye and right ear. Today, I’m pleased to report that I can now open my left eye a bit, although the entire left side of my face appears to be swollen. Look closely at my ears, and I think it’s fairly obvious my much-stung right ear is plenty swollen, compared to my unstung left ear—to the point that it doesn’t even appear to belong on the same head as my left ear. My face is still itchy and twitchy and mildly uncomfortable enough that I haven’t ventured back out to my truck—the scene of The Battle o’ Little Big Wasp—to go for a spin. That’s my goal for tomorrow. Today, Benadryl is my best friend.
Wasps Do Not Like Me, But They Love My Truck
Yesterday was packed with drama, so I knew my Madam Butterfly-inspired Bow Tie o’ the Day would be appropriate for today’s post pix. You can’t get much more dramatic and operatic than Madam Butterfly.
So here’s the scoop. Here’s the reason I can’t open my left eye, use my left thumb, or wear my right hearing aid. My truck has needed a new battery since before the pandemic began. For months my truck has been sitting in the front of our house, where we look longingly at each other every day. I’ve missed my old jalopy truck, so yesterday I called AAA and asked them to bring me a battery and install it. Easy enough. But no! The kindly masked AAA dude arrived, and we chatted about our business for a minute or two, and as I unlocked the truck door, a zillion angry wasps flew out of their nest inside the door—directly at my head. The hat I was wearing protected the top of my head. My face mask protected the lower part of my face. My left eye and my right ear were the pests’ two favorite targets. Both of them were each stung at least a half-dozen times. My left thumb got stung at lease three times.
Y’all know I grew up around bees, so I know how to not panic about swarms of insects flying in my direction. I know how to stand still and let them move past me. I do not pick fights with the likes of bees and wasps and hornets, because I am allergic to their stings. But yesterday, the wasps who set up condos inside my truck refused to play by the rules. They were out to get me. There was bigly carnage, and I was it. I decided to not go to the ER because, surprisingly, my breathing remained fine. In a pandemic, I feel it’s my duty to handle my health issues on my own at home, if at all possible. But don’t think for one minute that my EpiPen isn’t beside me at all times.
Anyhoo… My truck has a new battery. It started right up for the AAA guy, who also happens to be allergic to insects bites and stings. He was valiant in the fight with the wasps, and he never got stung. I certainly gave him a bigly tip. I haven’t dared drive the truck yet myself. Suzanne wants me to call an exterminator to make sure the truck is completely wasp-less before I drive it away to find a dusty gravel road in the middle of nowhere. I should listen to her, but you know how that goes. Now that I wear hearing aids, I can do that thing called “selective hearing.” It’s amazing what my hearing doesn’t hear.
More Experiments With Pandemic Hairs Thursday
I don’t have time to explain it right now. Wood flag Bow Tie o’ the Day doesn’t either. Let me just say that while I was putting together this afternoon’s Pandemic Hairs Thursday post, I was attacked by an air force of wasps that were living in my truck. And since I am allergic to most insect stings and bites, I think it wise to go jab my EpiPen into my thigh before I can’t breathe anymore. And maybe I’ll visit the nearest ER. I’ll report back to you tomorrow, I’m sure. No worries, folks. I always get good stories to share out of my death-defying adventures. And yes, I have no doubt these pandemic hairs are what angered the wasps into attacking me in the first place.
A Pandemic Hairs Thursday
Seahorses Bow Tie o’ the Day is a little scared by my pandemic hairs. This is how I would look with pandemic hairs if I ever lost my eyebrow tweezers. Within a week’s time, I would be a bow tied unibrow. The only thing worse than having to live with my pandemically challenged uncut head hairs would be if I had to live with my pandemically challenged uncut head hairs PLUS a unibrow. Ain’t nobody wanna see that.