Category: Cufflinks

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I’m Hungry, But The Ice Cream Is Gone

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 and macaroni? Off 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.🍗

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No Lectures Today

I’m wearing one of my truck ties as Tie o’ the Day, and I’ve got my gear shift Cufflinks o’ the Day for your viewing pleasure.

I’m contemplating my truck. Specifically, I’m thinking a blasphemous thought: It might be time to sell or trade in my beloved 98 Isuzu Hombre. I can’t believe I’m even considering the idea. But I’m not able to shift it right now, and maybe forever. Oh, Hombre is doing well for its age. My right shoulder, on the other hand, is not.

I’ve had arthritis in my shoulders for over decade, and moving the gear shift has been no problem. But whatever is going on with my shoulder now is something completely different. It hurts constantly with stabby, near-shocky bolts of pain. It feels like it wants to dislocate itself. I have a doc appointment next week, so I’ll get to the bottom of it, but my shoulder is as old as I am– and we all know what that means. Maybe it can be fixed. Maybe it’s just a new, unwelcome development of age. For right now, I’m more upset about not being able to drive Hombre than I am about my painful shoulder.

I never knew how important my right shoulder is. For example, I sleep on my right side, so I have not slept well since I can’t sleep on my right shoulder. Also, “my” side of the loveseat is on the right side, which means my drink and notebook and pen and nail file are to the right side of the loveseat. The pain in my right shoulder prohibits me from retrieving my drink, etc. from that side. Suzanne and I have had to switch butt-sides, so I can sit on the left to use my left arm.

I don’t know about you, but it’s a big deal to switch furniture sides, whether you’re switching places on the loveseat, the bed, or at the kitchen table. We have our seats. We have our places. We like it like that. I have no idea why people are like that, but we are.

Damn shoulder. I don’t want to not drive my truck. 😭

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Here’s A Lecture, But It’s Short.

Hat, Tie, Shirt, and Cufflinks o’ the Day sing out loudly in their clothing chorus: “The voting polls are still open. Hurry up and get your butt there, if you haven’t cast your ballot already.” Make sure you take the opportunity to flex your political muscle. You are a citizen, so act like it.

As United States citizens we don’t just have rights, we also have responsibilities. We forget about that bigly detail far too often. If you read The Bill of Rights carefully, you will see that our rights are interwoven with our responsibilities. I think the document would be better served by being called The Bill of Rights and Responsibilities. No, I’m not proposing we change the name. I’m proposing that we expand our perspective of The Bill of Rights to include the totality of the ideas the document actually contains.

Personally, I believe that if you have the incredible right to vote, you also have the responsibility to use that right. So use it. Just a thought.

My tiny Constitutional Law lecture is over. My name is Helen Eileen Wright, and I approved this message. 😸

 

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All I Know Is That I Can Do This

Cufflinks o’ the Day can’t take their eyes off Bow Tie o’ the Day and Shirt o’ the Day. I think Cufflinks have a crush on the other two attire stars here. I was pleased I managed to introduce our Halloween black and orange to the Breast Cancer Awareness Month pink. I knew they would all hit it off.

I have never tried to be a matchmaker of people. And with clothing, I purposely strive to NOT match as many articles of any outfit as I can. That’s my style. Neither do I claim to be clairvoyant, but I do have an uncanny “gift” for knowing people. Specifically, I am almost perfectly accurate about couples who marry or live together. I can “see” which couples will stay together for the long haul. And I can “see” which couples do not have a chance in hell or heaven to stay coupled. I can “see” more about it than other people can.

I would never say anything to any couple whose future I “see.” I could be wrong about what comes to me, although I’ve mostly been right. And I don’t want to risk jinxing a relationship. I’ve had the same mostly accurate “sight” in AA rooms: I have a mostly accurate inkling of who’s gonna make it to sobriety and who isn’t.

I don’t try to “see” these things. They just occur to me. And I don’t treat people any differently than I would if I hadn’t glimpsed this stuff. In fact, this “gift” is something I would really rather not have. And I wonder this: Why do I have this ability? I believe gifts and talents have some kind of purpose. I believe they should be used for good purposes. But I can’t imagine what positive purpose my “seeing” stuff like this has. The only thing my “seeing” is to me is a bigly weight I carry. I carry the “gift” itself and the question of what I’m supposed to do with it. I have a hard time thinking it’s somehow just for me to know something about these things. I’m stumped. 🔮 👳‍♀️

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This Is Complicated. You Might Have To Read It Twice. I Know I Did.

Tie o’ the Day provides us Halloween colors, while Cufflinks o’ the Day present us with Breast Cancer Awareness Month pink. These ‘links might look plain, but they are James Bond-y. Each one is a functioning USB flash drive, with 8 GB of storage. Imagine how many secrets they can each hold. I can wear these anywhere, and no one will suspect I might have documented spy secrets in my cufflinks. This pair of ‘links– and all the information they contain– will most likely travel with me on our upcoming journeys.

Yes, my scar and my exhaustion and Suzanne and I are flying off again. Next Saturday we head to L.A. for two days, to see a Sunday concert at The Forum. We’ll be seeing a band called Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. It’s an obscure band, so don’t feel un-cool if you haven’t heard of them. Suzanne and I have listened to them for three decades, and it’s one of Suzanne’s fave bands of all-time. However, we’ve never seen them in concert, and seeing them live is one of the items on Suzanne’s bucket list. The band is giving only two performances in the USA– one in L.A. and one in New York City. Clearly, L.A. is closer and less expensive, so it was an easy choice. We leave next Saturday and fly back that Monday, when we are scheduled to arrive at SLC International about 4 PM.

Here’s where the super-duper crazy part comes in.

Suzanne has a work conference in Albuquerque, beginning Tuesday– the morning after we return from L.A.. I’m going along with her for the ride. Our flight to New Mexico is Monday night, only four hours after our arrival from L.A. We will speed home from the airport in between flights to kiss Skitter and grab different, pre-packed suitcases for our Albuquerque trip. (Suzanne is still in charge of lifting my luggage. Sorry, Suzanne.) Then we’re right back at the SLC airport for the 8 PM flight. We will arrive in Albuquerque– wiped out from a long travel day– late Monday night.

Tuesday morning, Suzanne will wake up early and skip off to work, where she will slave in the dark, damp, dank coal mines of public education. And I will sleep in.

It will be like a regular morning at home. 😜

 

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Numbers 1 and 2

Bow Tie o’ the Day likes the fact that more and more days are chilly enough for me to wear long-sleeve shirts, cuz that means cufflinks will be around to spend part of the day with the bling. It seems like the ties enjoy sharing their limelight on the website.

Today’s Cufflinks o’ the Day offer a dog and a tree, and we all know how our mutts love trees. Male mutts mostly. But I have seen plenty o’ female canines use a tree.

Skitter is not one of them. In fact, I’m beginning to doubt if Skitter is even a dog. She will neither pee nor poop when we take her on walks. She will do neither at rest stops. She will do neither in the brush at the side of the road. I’ve taken her to parks where dogs aren’t even allowed, just to see if she would give it up in the name of breaking the law for the sole purpose of being a rebel. Nope.

I once drove to Cedar City and back to Delta in one day, with Roxy and Skitter in the back seat. Whenever I stopped at a gas station for drive snacks, Roxy jumped out and did her business. I’d have to drag Skitter out of the car, walk her to the back of the station, and wait. And wait some more. Skitter would just shake. Roxy’d get tired of waiting and go back to the car. Not one drop of anything ever came out of Skitter.

Defeated, we continued our day journey to and from Cedar. And don’t think for one minute that Skitter did any of her business at any point during our trip. We got to our Cedar destination, and still no #1 or #2. And there was not one Skitter drop or dropping on the way home either. She seemed fine about it, but I know better.

Where will Skitter do her thang? She would relieve herself anywhere on The Wright Block in Delta. But now that we sold the Delta house, the one place on the entire planet she will relieve herself is in our fenced-in back yard here in Centerville. That’s it.

When we go on vacation, Suzanne’s sister, Marjorie, comes to live in our house with Skitter for a few days. If Marjorie isn’t available to Skitter-sit, we don’t go. So far, Marjorie hasn’t let us or Skitter down yet. They both seem happy about their playcations at our house. Skitter doesn’t even shake, rattle, and vibrate around Marjorie anymore.

It’s a good thing Skitter and Marjorie enjoy their sleepovers here, because Suzanne and I are planning to go away for a week in October. We can’t take Skitter or Marjorie with us, but at least I’ll have ties with me. 🐕 🌳

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To Every Bow Tie There Is A Season

The chill is on. Bow Tie o’ the Day and I are experiencing our first long pants, long-sleeve shirt day since probably April. We mourn Summer. We’ll get used to the coming Fall and Winter seasons since we have to. Actually, Fall is my fave season of the year, but it seems like it’s a much shorter season than it was a few decades ago.

Right now I’m taking a gander at the mountains behind our house, and I see the turning leaves on the trees. Watching the leaves turn into their brilliant Fall colors is one of the best parts of the season, but this year the colors are muted and dull. Not enough water in them thar hills! It makes me sad just to look at them. The leaves are not their best selves. That’s gotta be hard on their self-esteem. 🤡

Beyond having to wear “long clothes,” another harbinger of the nearness of Fall is The First Fly-In-The-House o’ Fall, which has been tormenting me and Bow Tie and Skitter all morning. Fall flies move more slowly than Summer flies, it seems. But they are harder to swat for some reason. They move unpredictably, as if they are intoxicated. Apparently, drunk-acting flies are just as annoying as certain drunk people. You just wanna slap ’em. At least you can do that to flies.

A bigly bright spot to the return of long-sleeve shirts is the return of Cufflinks o’ the Day. Love me my ‘links. This morning’s ‘links need no introduction. We all know a crayon when we see one. Yes, these actually work. Of course, I don’t want to wear them down. I don’t have a crayon sharpener this mini.

I remember when I first read the word “crayon.” I had to figure that word out, because I had only ever heard the coloring sticks referred to as “crens.” Was it just me? I don’t think so, because nobody ever made fun of me for saying it that way. I dunno.

The calming effects of crayons cannot be underestimated. Give an out-of-control kid a few crayons, and nine times out of ten, that kid will rein it in a notch or two. There is a reason that parents don’t attend church without carrying a supply of crayons and coloring books for their kids to use when they get fidgety. Hey! It just occurs to me that crayons are really kinda the original fidget spinner. Just’ sayin’.

Crayons work the same way with adults. Hence, the plethora of adult coloring books you can buy in almost any store. As adults, we might have exchanged our crayons for markers or colored pencils, but we all know they aren’t as fun as crens. Markers and colored pencils do not carry the same feelings of safety, freedom, boundless creativity, and memory of childhood possibilities. When you hold them in your hand, they don’t feel like that same crayon kind of imagination. Think about it: When we were in our kidhoods, a box of crayons could create AND rule the kingdoms of our minds and hearts.

And if you’re honest with yourself you’ll admit that in your life, few things have made your entire soul happier than when you so proudly gave your mom or dad a crayon drawing, and it ended up posted on the fridge for all to see. That drawing sucked, but it was a family treasure.

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Still Back. Fall’s Coming. And A Bigger TV.

After I felt like I was pretty much back to my fashion self yesterday, I worried it would be a one-day thing and then I’d wake up today feeling plain again. But no. I’m a happy clam, clash-fashion wise. In fact, I wish I had a clam bow tie to wear as a metaphor for my happiness. But I don’t. I did find this bubbly Bow Tie o’ the Day, and it’s a happy-looking one. Plus, I’m wearing yet another shirt as a cape. I think I’ve got my groove back. For luck, I’m crossing what’s left of my pancreas.

I don’t know how chilly it was outside your house this morning, but it was a bit frigid outside mine. Right now I’m wearing jeans, which I try not to do until at least October. Love me my shorts. But it’ll toast up later today, so I can change into a pair of shorts, and maybe take a dip in the pool.

Fall is my fave season, so I’m not dreading it. I’m just not ready for it to be knocking at my deck’s sliding doors just yet. There’s no stopping the jeans and long-sleeve shirts from worming their way onto my Fall/Winter clothing carousel. And you are well aware what my wearing long-sleeve button-down shirts means: Cufflinks o’ the Day! They’ll soon be crawling out of their storage cases.  More clever/glitzy ‘links have been acquired for your viewing pleasure.

Speaking of viewing pleasure, it is finally necessary for us to adopt a larger TV into our family. Honestly, it’s our eyes that have turned wanting a new TV into needing a new TV . I guess our 54-year-old eyes made the decision for us. We can no longer read written words that show up on the screen as part of the programs. Not on our current picture boxes.

Although the TV will benefit Suzanne and I both. It’ll benefit me more. Turning on a television is a prescription I write and fill for myself. I have the TV on all day, whether I’m seriously watching it or not. When you’re bipolar, it helps for you to find “tricks”– in combination with medications and therapy– that work for you. I’ve had to find my own particular strategies to keep me level and centered. I have a slew of other “trick” arrows in my coping skills quiver, but having the TV on during all my awake hours is one of the most effective tricks for my head.

For me, television is like a soundtrack playing in the background. It helps the manic thinking in my bipolar head get just distracted enough to keep me from thinking my way into a dark abyss. When I am manic, I listen to the “soundtrack” while I’m doing housewife work. Focusing only on the audio– following the program’s narrative–keeps my head busy, while still being able to accomplish something around the house.

Listening to TV shows when I’m manic works better for me than listening to music. Songs are short– both musically and lyrically– and their rapid movement from one song  to the next to the next, etc., can push me further into mania. When I’m on the depressive side, I lower the tv volume and the soundtrack becomes “white noise.” I can hear the TV, but it kinda isn’t there. The low background noise can keep me settled enough to write. Whenever my mood finds its middle level, the music can begin. And I can crank it up!

BTW  JUDGE JUDY and HOMICIDE HUNTER are definitely a different TV matter: Rain or shine, manic or depressive –for those shows, I sit at attention, watching and listening to every moment. Don’t call or text me when these programs are on. Don’t even knock on my door. I might love you, but I will not answer the the phone, a text, or the door when I’m with Judy or Joe. 📺

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The Bow Ties Are Watching Lightning On Memorial Day

Double Bow Ties o’ the Day prove that I couldn’t decide which one to wear. I try to make adjustments whenever possible. Happiness only sticks around if you know how to make adjustments to your sails, based on the wind and on your chosen destination. You cannot control all the weather of your life, but you can survive the storms, droughts, earthquakes, etc. You can handle the aftermath. If you have family and friends, that helps. But you can do it yourself if need be. You’ve got this! 👍

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This, You Can’t Keep From Happening

My hair’s a teardrop. It’s an all-around teary morning, cuz I had to transfer Mom back to Ron’s safekeeping. I just bite the silver bullet Cufflinks o’ the Day, and put on my big girl Bow Tie o’ the Day, and attempt to muddle through. These days, every time I say my goodbye’s to Mom, she looks tinier, thinner. She feels more fragile to me when I hug her. One day soon, I’ll go to hug her and she won’t even be there– in more ways than one.