I’m wearing my banned book Face Mask o’ the Day, and Bow Tie o’ the Day is an homage to A CHRISTMAS STORY—with its bb guns and “You’ll shoot your eye out!” targets. I chose Bow Tie so it would resonate with the reindeer on our four Ties o’ the Day. You know, we do live in the Kingdom o’ Many Deer Hunts here in Utah. My sincere tip to Santa’s reindeer is for them to visit Temple Square to see the Christmas lights at their own peril.
A bigly holiday tie trend, according to these particular ties, seems to be fabric print designs of antler-decorated reindeer. Three of these ties show strings of Christmas lights as the proper primary antler decor. The fourth shows the deer’s antlers be-decked in Christmas tree balls. That reminds me—I haven’t yet written my annual X-mas BALLS post. As always, I will try very hard to keep it clean.
Check out my flannel Face Mask o’ the Day. It is toasty. Bow Ties o’ the Day are decked in Christmas trees and Christmas icons. Ties o’ the Day present holiday characters taking selfies. Here’s my advice for anyone who takes a lot of selfies (myself included): Never let your selfie-taking get in the way of you actually experiencing your adventures. If taking the selfie gets to be more important to you than being a participant in the moment you are experiencing, you are not even living a life. Step back, and just notice your surroundings. Look at the people who are around you. Put down the phone, and step into the frame of your own existence. Somebody else will take a picture—or maybe they won’t. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter if you have photographic proof. You’re alive. Act like it.
Check out my new t-shirt. In case you haven’t already guessed, the cookie’s own Bow Tie o’ the Day was the ultimate selling point. (No, I won’t be counting it in my Holiday Tie Tally though.) I’m being matchy with my own gingerbread man Bow Tie o’ the Day.
Although Mom’s excellent goodies were wide-ranging, I don’t recall Mom ever making gingerbread cookies when I was a kid. I don’t recall ever in my life making a gingerbread house of any kind. And I must admit that on the few occasions when I have sampled gingerbread cookies made by other people, I have not found them to be yummy. Smell tasty? Yes. Look cute? Sometimes. Scrumptious? Never. When I was in my late teens, Mom did start to make a triumphant, chewy gingersnap cookie rolled in sugar. Her gingersnaps did not taste anything like what I have known as gingerbread, thank the heavens.
When I was in Graduate School at the University of Utah in the late-80’s, a box full of Mom’s homemade cookies would occasionally show up in my mailbox. Mom always sent far more cookies than I could safely consume on my own, so I often took them to share with my classes. Once, I took a box of Mom’s homemade gingersnaps to a poetry workshop to share with my colleagues and my professor. After the initial ravenous chewing had calmed down in the classroom, one colleague said to me, “Your mother must really love you.” And another swiftly chimed in, “I wish my mother loved me as much as your mom loves you.” It was meant to be funny, I know, and it was. But I had also already begun to recognize that not all parents actively do things to demonstrate their love for their kids as freely as mine always did. I knew my parents thought of me, always—even when I lived 2,000 miles away from their house in Delta, Utah.
I was born into a tribe of huggers and kissers. And in our family, the three magic words of “I love you” were (and still are) spoken regularly among my parents and siblings, as easily as breathing. As I grew up and ventured hither and yon into the bigly world, I very quickly realized what a rare blessing that kind of familial affection and stability truly is. For being born into this solid gift, I give my thanks.
Holiday Face Mask o’ the Day brings the season’s first Ho’s to the party. And my gingerbread cookie-themed Ties o’ the Day help me in my reply to those who think I’m getting into the Christmas spirit waaaay too early. All I can say is that I am following my arrow. It’s what I do. If you are troubled by my festive cheer, I humbly say, “Bite Me!”
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.
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.
I’m enthralled with all the twists and speed bumps of elections. Skitter and I have been flipping through channels, following the melodrama of vote-counting from oodles of different political bents. We, here at TIE O’ THE DAY, are remaining relatively calm and patient, confident that the United States of America will survive intact—no matter who ends up driving the bigly bus. I am confident of it because it is we, the people, who are the country.
Besides, waiting a few days for election results is a cinch. In 2000, Grandma Anderson was living at the Sands. She was 91. She had fallen there one day, breaking both a hip and a shoulder. When she was released from the hospital a few weeks after her tumble, she returned to her little apartment in the Sands, but she needed constant care. She was waiting for a spot to open up for her in the care center, where she could have 24-hour, trained care for the rest of her life. But until the care center had room for her, someone from the family was always on duty in her apartment to tend to her needs. I stayed with her most nights.The Gore/Bush election took place that November. A few days after the election, Grandma began asking me who our new president was. I explained that Gore got the most votes, but Bush was most likely going to be the President. Try explaining the Electoral College and “hanging chads” to your grandma when she’s 91. And soon I had to explain why the Supreme Court was involved in the decision, and so on.
Every night, I’d go to Grandma’s for our sleeping party so I could be there if she needed something. Usually, she just needed a bowl of Cheetos. Every morning, almost the first question out of Grandma was, “Do we have a President yet?” And every evening when I showed up for our sleepover, her question was, “Do we have a president yet?” That went on for oh-so-many mornings and evenings. I was getting a bit irritated with the question, as well as with the whole president-in-limbo thing.
Weeks after the 2000 election, on December 12, when I showed up for my “Grandma shift,” I burst through the door and said, “Grandma, don’t even ask! We finally have a president!” When she asked who it was, I said, “The Supreme Court says it’s George Bush.” She thought about it a minute, then said, “Didn’t we have one of those already?” My thoughts exactly. So I had to do some more explaining to Grandma Anderson. I loved her so.
FYI I took this selfie at my hearing aid appointment this morning. Diagnosis: I can’t hear anything I don’t want to hear. 😉
