One of the gifts I gave Suzanne for Christmas was this Ruth Bader Ginsburg puzzle, on which we see Justice Ginsburg’s face created from the words of some of her most noteworthy dissents. Well, Suzanne set the puzzle out last week, and has been hunched over it every evening since. It was a tough puzzle. I’ve never seen Suzanne be so puzzled about a puzzle before. She labored diligently, and finally finished it last night. She said to me, upon her successful completion of the RBG puzzle, “I better see this puzzle in a TIE O’ THE DAY post.” Her proud exasperation made my orders clear, so here it is. Bow Tie o’ the Day salutes Suzanne’s puzzle prowess.
About two minutes after I posted about not being able to find my peanut M&M’s bow tie this morning, I immediately ran onto it. Yes, it was in the last place I looked—because there’s no reason to keep looking for something, after you’ve found it.
Here I am, still enjoying my Pajama Day of reading, writing, and no ‘rithmetic. My bag o’ M&M’s functioned as a real-life face mask this afternoon, when I had to answer the door and didn’t have a mask handy. I put the bag of candy in front of my face and answered the door to the masked Amazon prime delivery person. I am pleased to say that my candy face mask caused the prime guy to convulse in a fit of laughter, for which he gleefully thanked me as he went off to the rest of his work day.
Note to self: Eat this bag o’ candy, so you have an excuse to buy more.
I could not find my peanut M&M’s bow tie anywhere in the Tie Room this morning. It was my intended Bow Tie o’ the Day. I know it’s not lost. It’s in the Tie Room somewhere, just not in its usual place. But I’m in the mood to wear that particular bow tie, and no other. Never to be deterred, I know how to improvise when necessary. Still, not finding one of my trusted bow ties in its place discombobulated me to the point that I declared a Pajama Day for myself. I’m passing my pj morning on the love seat—reading, writing, and dozing off. I also discovered another use for my Face Mask o’ the Day. It works niftily as a sleep mask.
Bow Tie o’ the Day gives you a good hint about what I ate for lunch today. I have a thing for all things ice cream, I will always admit it. Face Mask o’ the Day is named “Winkler” by the company that created it. I believe I could accurately use the winking face emoji at the end of a high percentage of the sentences I write or say. A wink is sort of the aura I give off, I think, in writing and in person. My fashion kind of winks too, I guess you could say. I’m serious, in a not serious way. And I’m not serious, in a serious way. It’s exhausting to have a brain that conjures ideas like that. I have made my peace with dwelling in irony and sarcasm on top of clarity and wisdom. Apparently, so has my wardrobe.
Bow Tie o’ the Day offers butterflies galore, while Face Mask o’ the Day sports a cat wearing a red hanky mask. I’m actually kind of glad I don’t have to see this mask when I wear it. Even though it’s cool, there’s something a tad creepy about its cool-osity. But hey—the kids like it.
I find ideas for my attire everywhere. This afternoon, I was cooking bacon to put on my turkey sandwich, and I said out loud to Skitter and myself, “Hey, I have a flying pig hat that I haven’t worn since clear back three whole, long weeks ago.” So while my bacon was cooking, I found my flying pig hat. I wondered, for a brief second, whether the flying pig would be offended that I was frying bacon, and fully intending to eat it. And then I wondered if the sizzling strips o’ bacon would gaze up at the flying pig on my head and wish theirs had been lives of high-flying pigs, instead of my lunch. And then I came back to the reality of how neither flying pig hats, nor bacon strips have brains to think with. All was well.
Anyhoo… I decided my pig-y hat needed some friends, so I put on my cat-y shirt and butterfly-y face mask. Thus, I am now wearing a small menagerie. Bow Tie o’ the Day has a tiger-print feel to it that zippily tops off my outfit.
Oh, and my turkey-and-bacon sandwich was divine. Wish you were here. I would have made you one.
[This post is from August 2017. I hate to belabor the point, but I’m tired of the cold already. This photo makes me feel a bit warmer.]
Date Night at Lagoon, chaperoned by Bow Tie o’ the Day. Suzanne wore her motion sickness patch, so we could ride the roller coasters and spinning rides. And every now and then we all need an evening of eating horrible, bad-for-you food. We found this tooth in Pioneer Village. Look at how much strength it took me to pull it from Sasquatch’s stinky mouth. I had to get flexy to accomplish the feat.
Note that I am wearing the smallest bow tie I have. It’s a safety matter when you’re near amusement park ride machinery.
Also note that I am wearing my Big, Fat, Ugly Shorts. They weigh 2.2 pounds, and have enormous pockets, making it possible to carry everything anyone might need when they’re out on an adventure. Wearing them is like wearing a large purse. I’m a pack mule in them. 👛 🎠 🎡 🎢
I didn’t need much at Dick’s Market this afternoon, but I did write myself a list. As you probably already know, it’s a Law of Nature that no matter how hard you try to make a complete grocery list, and no matter how diligently you read your list at the store, you will get back home and discover you forgot something. You will always overlook at least one thing that is written plain as day on your list. Also, your list will never have everything you need to buy written on it. Part of the reason for this snafu is that there is never just one list. You start a list, then you promptly misplace it, so you start another list. And so on. If you can find the first list you wrote, that’s a gift from the universe.
After you think you are done with your shopping list, you will certainly think of a few last minute additions, and you will think to yourself, “Oh, I’m too busy to write that down right now. I’m sure I’ll remember that item.” Which you won’t.
As I scribbled the indecipherable-to-anyone-but-me words which were my grocery items, I felt like I was forgetting something. I had been craving something earlier in the day, but I could not remember exactly what it was. Skitter saved the day, though. When I was telling her where I was going and when I’d be back, she all-knowingly said, “It’s Bow Tie o’ the Day, you twit!” And she was right, of course. I wanted Skittles. Bow Ties are sneaky that way. When you put one on, you generally can’t see what it’s up to. So don’t count on your bow tie to remind you of anything you need at the grocery store.
[Please note that my pencil critter is wearing a red bow tie. Of course.]
I realized I hadn’t posted a Church Bow Tie o’ the Sabbath for quite some time, so yesterday I made sure to gussy up my attire for “watching” church. My nephew, Bishop Travis, was speaking, and I took extra care in choosing the appropriate bow tie for the occasion—as I always do. I decided to wear my black, 3D-printed bow tie. It’s simple and yet sophisticated. Its tips are also very sharp. I would not have worn this to the meeting if I had attended in-person, for fear Gracie would have poked a hole in her hand if she touched it. But I thought it a fitting bow tie for attending church online from my love seat, because the thing about Bishop Travis’ talks is that they—like Bow Tie—always have a point. In fact, his talks are filled with lots of points—each layered like parables. You understand what you are able to, and you chew on what you can’t understand, until you finally understand that too. Like any good parable, it’s nourishing when your spirit hungers, time and again. The larder of a good parable is never empty.
Hey! Look what I got! My new Day of the Dead skulls face mask goes well with the Day of the Dead cape Suzanne made for me two years ago. I actually do have a bow tie made out of the same fabric as the mask, and I really did put it on before I cinched up the turquoise Bow Tie o’ the Day I ended up wearing in the selfie. But I had to immediately take it off and toss it for another day, due to the cutesy matching that was happening between the perfectly matching mask and bow tie. When it comes to matching, as you have probably surmised, I can usually match according to theme—but rarely can I breath while wearing two separate things made of the very same fabric. Even wearing matching socks is a hives-inducing stretch. It is just how I be.
