Category: Bow Ties

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Showing Off My Slippers Again

When you have something really groovy, show it off. Show it off often. Thank you again, Georgia Grayson Wadsworth for crocheting me these slippers over a year ago, for my Hanky Panky surgery stay at Huntsman. I never tire of my friend-made slippers, and I never tire of feeling grateful for what others do to help me on my life’s adventure.

It is quite freeing to feel gratitude. Feeling appreciative is one indication somebody has actively loved you. It means someone thought enough about you to offer a kind word; make a needed loan; give a sheltering hug in a time of loss; flash a smile across a room of strangers; etc. The list is infinite. And if you’re not feeling gratitude for anything, you aren’t paying attention. At the very least, you are reading this right now, and who do you think I’m taking the time and effort to write it for? You, of course. Even if you’re bored with this particular post, I wrote it for you. It’s not much, but it’s one way I can show I care about you. We should all be more grateful for whatever parts we play in each other’s lives.

Other good people can find value in stuff that makes you joyous, just like you can find value in theirs. (Stay away from selfish, jealous people who can only appreciate something if they own it.) In a nutshell, that’s what my tblog is all about: I love wearing ties and telling stories, and I want to share them with others. Sometimes I write a lot. Sometimes I write a little. Sometimes a post is sarcastic. Sometimes a post is downright profound. The neckwear is always splendid, at the very least.

I’m sure I’ll show off my bow tie slippers here again and again over the coming years, but I probably won’t climb back up on the dining table to show them off with a Neckties o’ the Day puzzle. That is not a do-over. The standing-on-tables part of my life is now done. I guess I just needed to do it one more time. I’m grateful I did it, and I’m grateful I don’t want to do it anymore. I’m sure I’ll live a longer life by keeping my Bow Tie Slippers o’ the Day on the floor.

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My Spock Ear Is Cold Again

There is no chill in the world that can’t be solved by wearing a comfy sweater, bigly ear muffins, and a wood Bow Tie o’ the Day. Seriously. Don’t tell me I’m wrong about this unless you’ve tried it.

That reminds me. It’s time for another episode of Weird Scribbling In My Notebooks, in which I relay some nuggets I’ve written in my notes over the years— trying to figure out what I meant and/or why I thought they needed to be written down in the first place. These gems are from one of my 2010 notebooks.

#1 “Secret of life: Don’t get hit by a firetruck.” That pretty much explains itself, I guess. I kinda don’t know why I felt the need to record that bit o’ common sense in the first place, but ok. One really should not forget it.

#2 “My scalpel eye is cutting through to a clean, factual thing.” Sounds like I figured out something all by myself.

#3 “Am I killing this pen, or what?” I must have gotten a new pen I liked.

#4 “The Last of the Dead Shot Bubbas.” I have not one idea what that was about. I’m guessing it was a possible title for a Delta story. I dunno.

#5 “Credit on earth is bad. Credit in Heaven is good.” Let’s see: Incurring and paying bills = earthly rewards. Loving others builds up credit in your favor in Heaven= Heavenly rewards. Plus, actively loving others is just the right thing to do. CTR, all the way.

#6 “Speaking of coloring inside the lines— coloring hair is coloring ONLY the lines.” Now, that’s just seeing hair from a different perspective, pointing out that every hair is a line you can shape, cut, and/or color.

#7 “Callings don’t show up on your phone bills.” True. Usually the bishop just asks to meet with you. (Har, har, har.)

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A Visit To Dr. Bow

Kandinsky-style Bow Tie o’ the Day and I spent the bulk of our afternoon clashing our attire at my doctor appointment with my pain management doctor. I refer to her as Dr. Bow since the word “bow” sounds like a syllable in her real name. And she is a TIE O’ THE DAY fan.

The appointment went well. You know that irritatingly vague 1-10 pain scale the docs use to pin down the seriousness of your current pain? When Dr. Bow asked what my pain level was today, I said a lower number than I’ve said in 20 years of being asked. I happily said I was at a 5. I might as well have won the pain level lottery. I’m feeling a-ok.

Knock on wood, and on anything else that’s handy.

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A Night Above The Town

A few days before Christmas, we celebrated our 6th Anniversary (legal). After a bazillion years of being together, we got hitched in 2013 the minute we could. It was in between court decisions. No time to plan. No time to have a party. It was a kind of shotgun wedding, between court decisions. We were just glad to git ‘er done successfully.

This year we celebrated the occasion with dinner at The Roof, overlooking the Salt Lake Temple and the Christmas lights at Temple Square. Bow Tie o’ the Evening was formal and X-mas ornament-y. We had a dazzling view. We got THE best table. Our waiter was kind enough to snap our picture with the bright view in the background. He seems to have used a photography technique which I can only describe as the make-the-people-in-the-photo-appear-blobbed-up-like-fat-squatty-toads technique.

You know I’m into giving anniversary gifts based on the “traditional” type of gift which corresponds to the number of years. For example, wood is the traditional anniversary gift for the 5th anniversary. Last year, I scored bigly points with Suzanne by managing to procure her some wood crochet hooks.

The traditional 6th anniversary gift is something iron or candy, and I had a heckuva time coming up with something clever. I did manage to find earrings made of iron, as well as an iron necklace for Suzanne, cuz she’s always ready for jewelry. But I wanted to give her something more. And then I remembered something I saw as a kid in what I now call “old lady houses” or “Arsenic and Old Lace houses:” a vintage, purple slag glass, IRON-shaped CANDY dish filled with Hershey’s Hugs and Kisses. A two-fer. Score! Suzanne loves it. She was born with “old lady house” knick-knack likes.

The first purple slag glass, iron-shaped candy dish I was able to locate online was $29,000. That’s not the one I got for Suzanne. It doesn’t cost $29,000 to be clever with a traditional anniversary gift. I’ll hip you to what Suzanne gifted me for our anniversary, in the next post.

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Christmas Day, Skitter, And A Haircut

I chose a “wrapped gifts” theme Bow Tie o’ the Day to wear on Christmas Day. We didn’t do much but puzzle on Christmas Day, with the exception of joining Suzanne’s family at her parents’ house. Every year, Suzanne’s dad reads the family a Christmas story of his choosing, and tops it off by reading about Christ’s birth from the Bible. I look forward to it. Suzanne’s family is bigly and semi-boisterous and fun. I do miss being around Mom at Christmas though. (And not just for her food.) She tells me over and over she’s grateful to Suzanne’s parents for taking such good care of me. I’m grateful for it too. Now, that’s a gift!

Rowan wore his new haircut over to our place after we were finished at Suzanne’s parents. Skitter loves him, although Rowan’s male voice used to petrify her. You know Skitter loves you when she positions herself near you, then pretends to stretch and— nonchalantly and by calculated accident— puts her front paws on your arm or leg, as she’s doing with Rowan in the photo. She ever so softly and discreetly paws her way into your heart. But don’t look directly into her eyes, or she’ll shake her way to one of her crates. The Skit says, “It’s so hard to be loved.”

As was requested after this morning’s post, I’ve included here three pix of Rowan’s BEFORE hairs. His hair is thick and beauteous, so I don’t have a preference about its length. I am liking his short cut now, cuz it’s what he’s got. If it’s clean and not covering his handsome mug, I’m good with whatever.

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Breakfast With The Boy, Er, Man

We had a post-Christmas breakfast with Rowan at Vertical Diner, a vegan diner around the corner from his apartment in SLC. I wore my “ugly sweater” Bow Tie o’ the Day for the occasion. We see Rowan rarely since he slaves away many hours at his barista job and is student-ing at the U of U. He is 22, so his social life is a top priority, as well— as it should be. I think I’d be a bit worried about him if he spent all his spare time with us.

Note that Rowan cut off his flowing locks of head hairs last week. He’s donating the leftover 14-inch braids to an organization that makes wigs for chemo patients. Rowan’s heart has always been in the fight for those who struggle.