Snowman Ties o’ the Day are showing up due to an off-kilter dream I had last night which was full of snow people terrorizing the neighborhood. When I managed to wake myself from my dream, all I could think about was how memorable the post I would write about all the details of my dream would be to y’all. And then I went back to sleep, pleased with myself. When I woke up this morning, however, I couldn’t remember anything about my dream except that it was full of snowmen who were bent on scaring my neighborhood. I couldn’t remember any interesting specifics. Sorry. I’ll make detailed notes in the middle of the night, next time I have a post-worthy dream.
This Tie o’ the Day is titled by its seller, “Feliz Navidog.” The dog’s snowflake sweater reminds me of a trio of winter outfits Suzanne created many years ago for the three mutts we lived with at that time. She cut the sleeves off an old sweatshirt. She cut 4 leg holes in each of the sleeves, and also in the body of the sweatshirt. She did some clean-up sewing on the dogs’ new attire. Voila! Araby, our yellow lab, wore the body of the sweatshirt. Vinnie and Roxy, our mini-dachshunds, each wore a sleeve. They were warm and stylin’ in the snowy outdoors of Delta, while wearing their Suzanne-made doggie sweatshirts. I, on the other hand, was chilly and missing a sweatshirt.
Candy cane Ties/Bow Ties o’ the Day add their coolness to the flip-side of my wintry cape from last week. This glittery winter wonderland scene is amazingly warm when I’m outside in the b-r-r-r-r-. I’m sure I’ve mentioned it before, but the thing I like most about wearing a cape in the winter is that it feels like I’m wearing a blanket wherever I go. And who wouldn’t want to stay wrapped in their blanket all day, when it’s cold and people-y outside?
From my earliest days as a beachgoer at Gunnison Bend Reservoir, a.k.a, the Rez, I have loved sand, water, and sun. When I was in my older kidhood, I rode my bike the 6 miles to the western-most shore of the Rez every day of summer when I had time, unless my Sister Who Wishes To Remain Nameless had a day off work. If she did, she drove us out to the water to bake under the desert sun on our bigly beach towels. Ah, the smell of Coppertone coconut oil lotion sizzling on our skin.
On the beach, we listened to static-y AM radio stations broadcasting out of Provo, on a clunky transistor radio fueled by D-size batteries. It weighed as much as a jackhammer. We read magazines and paperbacks we had bought at Service Drug or the Rexall, and we drank Tab and Diet Rite Cola—in glass bottles. We ate Clover Club potato chips with Nalley’s dill pickle dip. I had a one-person blow-up raft I lazily paddled across the Rez. I had a goal of crossing over and around the bend to the Sherwood Shores side of the Rez in my little raft, but I never did for some reason. I’m not crying about it, or anything. It was never a Bucket List kind of goal.
The wind at the Rez—as in Millard County, in general—seemed to breeze up almost every day around 5pm, if it hadn’t already been stirring sand up earlier. When the Rez began to get choppy, it was time to get home for a quick supper. I was always eating summer dinner in a perpetual hurry. I had places to be. I had to head uptown on my bike to Delta’s outdoor swimming pool for the evening swim session—to splash in yet another local body of water, and to walk-don’t-run-by-the-pool under what was left of the sunlight on perfect summer days. Even as a child, deep in my skin, I could feel the burn of vintage moments passing.
Holiday Tie Tally: 60 Neckties. 10 Bow Ties.
#amaskadaykeepsthecovidaway #wearthedangmask
That’s a yellow bow on my hat. There’s one on the other side of my hat too.That’s not my cool, bigly beach towel, of which I wrote. It’s somewhere around there though, I promise.
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, cheese, and macaroni? Of 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.🍗
Our 5 Ties o’ the Day give us—from left to right—penguins with long stocking caps, used as scarves; polar bears with Santa hats or blue scarves; polar bears carrying snowboards that say, “CHILL OUT”; red-scarved polar bears and wrapped gifts; and Christmas cookies.
I don’t have any stories to tell about penguins. They’re “cute.” You know how I hate to describe something with that over-used word, but penguins are, in fact, cute.
As far as bears go, I can tell you that Dad killed a bear in Alaska in 1974, but it wasn’t a polar bear. He had it taxidermied into the proverbial bearskin rug, and it was sometimes laid out on top of Mom and Dad’s bed as a fancy bedspread. I slept on it in the living room, in front of our fireplace when I was in 5th Grade. It had snowed in late May, and the power went out in all of Delta for a couple of days. We had to go to school on a Saturday that year to make up for the snow day. Thus, our school year ended on a weekend that year. Bishop Travis is now the keeper of the bear rug, which means Gracie gets to enjoy the bear spoils of Dad’s Great Alaskan Hunting Adventure. I’m sure Ms. Grace has made a pal out of the handsome bear pelt already, even though its mouth doesn’t look particularly friendly.
The Christmas cookie tie makes me think of Mom’s St. Nick cookies. She had a cookie cutter shaped like Santa’s face, and she made sumptuous sugar cookies with its shape. After the cookies baked, she would coat Santa’s hat, cheeks, and nose with a red food color concoction, then sprinkle sugar over the red parts of the cookie. She used raisins or chocolate chips for Santa’s eyes. She made a white frosting for his beard and his hat’s pom-pom. And then she added a layer of shredded coconut on top of the white frosting to give it a fuzzy, furry texture. She made these cookies by the millions, and there were still never enough. Back in prehistoric times, when I was in elementary school—no matter what teacher I had—the teacher assigned me to bring cookies for the X-mas party. Apparently, the teachers knew of Mom’s tasty Santa creations. Mom had a reputation, if you know what I mean. It was a sad day when the Santa cookie cutter broke after many decades of use. Mom got a new one, but it wasn’t quite the same. And she was getting older. She started to make fewer and fewer Santa cookies each year, until she finally didn’t make any at all. But I can still taste them.
Rudolph, Frosty, Santa, or an elf. Apparently, I’m in the throes of a Christmas identity crisis. Character confusion—TIE O’ THE DAY knows it occasionally happens to all of us. This, too, shall pass.
Skitter was too tuckered out to fully participate in the takin’ o’ the post photos today, but that didn’t stop me from prodding her to open at least one eye for a quick pic. She ought to know by now that if she’s going to wear a tie in my vicinity, her picture is gonna be taken. It’s one of those facts o’ life you just have to accept in this family. You learn to roll with it.
These Ties/Bow Ties o’ the Day are my reminder that I must gather all of my pathetic Charlie Brown Christmas trees together for a thorough group dusting. It’s almost time to dot the house with the trees in their various sizes and ornament themes. It’s easy-peasy to maintain one theme per tree when you are allowed only one ornament per tree. To be an authentic Chuck Brown tree, everybody knows it can have only one ornament weighing down only one of its branches. 🌲
Holiday Tie Tally, thus far: 47 Neckties. 9 Bow ties. 1 tired Tie o’ the Day for Skitter.
