Category: Family

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Scamp O’ The Day

I’m posting late because I had to drive down to Stockton and bail Bow Tie o’ the Day out of jail. How can a bow tie possibly get in trouble in Stockton, UT? There’s nothing there. Except it’s a speed trap kind of town. But Bow Tie does not drive. As far as I can tell, Bow Tie was involved in some sort of disorderly conduct incident. Disorderly conduct happens.

The truth is that Bow Tie and I drove to Stockton to pick up a family member who refuses to drive anywhere near a city. Said family member likes to visit a certain other family member who lives up here in my neck o’ the woods, so I do Uber duty on occasion. In fact, I and the neckwear are pretty much 24/7 Uber for anyone in the family who needs a ride. Or anyone else who needs a ride. And we Uber for free.

Short post here. Gotta go finish up some pre-travel errands right now. We– and the plane– take off to our flooded island vacay early in the morning.

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To Sunday Brunch, Or Not To Sunday Brunch

The photo of Bow Ties o’ the Day is a throwback from Sunday, when we took a drive to WY for brunch. As I’ve mentioned previously, Suzanne’s brother, James, is the owner and chef of Gateway Grille– which is located at The Purple Sage golf course in Evanston. James puts out a magnificent Sunday spread. And yes, I stole all the remaining pastries when we left.

As you can see, Suzanne wasn’t all that interested in being in a photo as we hung around on the deck at the clubhouse. Thus, I only managed to capture the side of her head. Ain’t that a pretty ear?

James managed to make time to get out of the kitchen and sit down with us for a few minutes. During our conversation something came up about “smart” v. “wise.” He said, “A smart person knows a tomato is a fruit. A wise person knows not to put it in a fruit salad.” Sounds right to me.

James lived with me and Suzanne in our first apartment, in SLC in 1985. The apartment was on the top floor of an old house, and was U-shaped. James slept on the floor in an almost-hallway, and we had to step over him to get to the bathroom– which had red walls around the bathtub.

We also had a neighbor named Sadie Cowboy, who had a little girl, but had no teeth. Well, maybe a tooth or two. And a U of U football player whose name I don’t remember lived on the first floor. He took no guff from anyone, and was sort of like our guard dog. Ain’t nobody dared mess with us.

Dad helped me move my large stuff into that apartment when we first moved in. (He helped me move into more than one top-floor apartment in SLC. Sorry, Dad.) He knew I’d be sharing the apartment with a couple of friends, but I guess he assumed it was a couple of gals. When he saw James’ huge shoes sitting on the floor in the apartment, Dad said, “I don’t know if I’m comfortable with you living with a man.” I didn’t have the heart to say to him at that moment, “Between James and Suzanne, James is not the one you should be worrying about, Dad.” We laughed about the incident years later, after his “dunno” got “smart” on the matter, and then his “smart” eventually got “wise.”

Dad absolutely loved Suzanne. They “clicked.” He loved her because she’s Suzanne. And he loved her because I do. And he loved her because she loves me. Simple as that.

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Unless We’re Not

Tie o’ the Day and I are closely checkin’ the weather for the days of our upcoming vacation. We are scheduled to leave for Dauphin Island, AL– a few miles off the coast of Alabama– on Thursday morning. It seems that a little tropical storm named Gordon is trying to become a hurricane in that coastal region right now.

Are we still going to our little beach? Heck, yes. Remember, we’ve survived Delta wind for decades– real wind. And who doesn’t want to experience a tropical storm and/or hurricane getaway? Not everybody gets a chance to vacation in a hurricane. Besides, Gordon’s supposed to be only a Category 1 hurricane. And it might not even turn into one at all. It might miss our little island completely. Also, whatever it ends up being is supposed to happen before Thursday. But– you know the weather.

When we planned our getaway months ago, we checked into when hurricane season is generally over. It was supposed to over by now. Oh, well. The manager of the condo we’ve rented touched bases with us yesterday and said that we shouldn’t worry about changing our plans. And she lives there, so she should know. Sounds like when these teeny-powerful storms happen, they are more of an annoyance than actually dangerous.

We will likely get rain in the storm’s aftermath. We’ve packed an umbrella. Even though we may not get as much beach time as we anticipated, that’s ok. There are other things to do and places to see that tourists don’t necessarily think to do/see if they spend all their time at the beach. Suzanne and I enjoy wherever we are together.

For me and Suzanne, no hurricane is gonna detour our vacay parade. We’re not changing our plans, even though we have trip insurance and easily could. I’ve been chained to the house, recovering for most of the last 2 months, and I need to go somewhere. I need some bigly fun. Bigly, but relaxing. Even experiencing a hurricane sounds better to me than sitting around the house one minute longer. I guess I can wait two days– since I have to. We’re going!

I can already imagine the bow tie/tie posts that are gonna come out of this adventure o’ weather. And I even have a dashing new swimming suit that will amuse you. 🌊 ✈️

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Jolly Again

I wore this shirt sarcastically a few days ago, when I wasn’t grumpy. Today, I was grumpy, so I wore it sorta seriously. Note that I typed WAS grumpy. I allowed the computer/website/ Facebook issues to let me commit small tirades for a day. (I’m letting the SWWTRN silent text alert just be what it is.) Enough is enough. The glitches have now been figured out. Not fixed yet, but figured out.

Before I explain what we found out about our technology  problem, I have to say this about being grumpy: It’s almost impossible to be grumpy when you’re concentrating on others– especially when you’re helping others. Tie o’ the Day reminds me that I think grumpiness results when we think we– and the difficulties we’re going through– are the center of all universes. Believe me, it is not all about you. Or me. It’s good to vent, but it’s not good to wallow. Wallowing creates stagnation, and stagnation creates rot. When you’re ticked off or frustrated, feel your feelings for a while, then go assist somebody with something they need. You’ll cheer up. And you’ll be a better person.

Regarding the photo non-upload issue, Suzanne worked mightily. Suzanne worked for hours. Suzanne fixed many things. Suzanne ran virus protection. Suzanne got rid of a billion spam-y emails I never opened. Suzanne won.

What Suzanne did not do is fix the issue I was having. But she couldn’t, because the issue was our WiFi. At some point during Suzanne’s troubleshooting of the problem, I– and my explosions of grump– decided it would be a good idea to get out of the house. Nothing else was fixing the problem, I decided to indulge my new theory that the problem might have something to do with our prehistoric WiFi. I wish we’d thought of it sooner.

Anyhoo… I tested the theory by putting on my Grumpy shirt and heading down the road to Starbucks, where I could try to accomplish my www goals on their WiFi. Voila! Everything worked niftily. We’ll be upgrading our internet service ASAP. Simple as that. (Famous last words, eh?)

I felt like I should at least buy a cup o’ coffee at Starbucks, since I was using their WiFi. It just seemed polite. But I don’t drink coffee. And when I drove back home, I realized I would have to change clothes because I reeked of coffee, and the smell would stick to me the entire day. I was okay in Starbucks, but…   It’s not because I hate the smell of coffee. Actually, the smell of coffee reminds me of Dad. But sometimes I just can’t handle thinking of that sweet man for longer than a few minutes. 🤗 💜

 

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And Pretend This Is A Title

 

There’s nothing to look at here.

Tie o’ the Day and I have discovered we’re magic. We can post a picture on our website, and it will post everywhere in the universe– except on the website and Facebook. I can no longer put photos into my site’s media library. Suzanne and I spent a big hunk o’ yesterday troubleshooting my technology speed bumps– which means Suzanne tried to find the problem and fix it, while I wept, wailed, railed, and carried around a few balloons for the pity party I was having.

[I cannot sufficiently convey to you how big a deal TIE O’ THE DAY is to me. It’s medicine to my far-too-dark brain. The idea of creating it gets me and my bipolar brain out of bed some days. It’s an hour of holiday from the routine– twice a day. I need this website kink remedied ASAP.]

I am a patient person–except when it comes to stuff that “breaks” when nobody did anything to it. I changed no settings on the website. The site was not hacked. I didn’t touch any buttons that I don’t normally touch. And Suzanne will tell you that I am such a technotard that I make sure I touch as few buttons as I absolutely have to. I did nothing different from usual, and now my beloved www.tie-o-the-day.com will not let me upload photos, for some still undiagnosed reason.

This website snafu comes on the heels of last week’s, Silent Text Alert Issue. I kept not-hearing text alerts from my Sister Who Wishes To Remain Nameless. I thought my hearing aid might have been on the fritz, but I could hear every noise in the house. Heck, I could hear Skitter’s back tooth decaying.

Seriously, I can hear every rinky-dink alert and sound on my phone– except text alerts from my SWWTRN. I can hear the flippin’ iPhone breathe! But I can’t hear the text alert I assigned to my SWWTRN. And believe me, I chose her personal alert to be overly loud and annoyingly obnoxious, so I’ll never miss a single one of her texts. I have tried to fix it, but according to the phone itself, everything is working a-ok. And get this– I chose the same alert sound to announce her phone calls, and I hear it loud and oh-so clear when she calls. (Yes, I’ve tried other sounds. No text alert sound attached to her contact can be heard.)

When I couldn’t fix my text alert issue, I threw my signature ticked-off party, my woe-is-me party. Sometimes I even throw my I’m-stoopid-cuz-I-can’t-figure-this-out party. Believe me, I can throw ill-tempered parties. And frankly, my parties generally happen because of technology– whether I understand the technology or not. Inevitably, Suzanne rides in on the Horse o’ Level-headedness and conquers The Beast o’ Techno Glitches. Suzanne always wins.

But she hasn’t finished off these two problems yet, as of this morning. Since neither the website nor the phone text malfunctions are completely solved, guess what Suzanne will be doing for Labor Day? And you know dang well I’ll be partying. I’ll be enjoying my pity party like it’s 1999. Along with the balloons, I’ll bring some cheese to go along with the barrels o’ whine I bring to my party. Feel free to stop by for the shindig.

 

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The Flannel Is Coming! The Flannel Is Coming!

So I’m resting up in the living room, reclining and snoozing and basically doing absolutely nothing except minding my p’s and q’s. Skitter and cockatoo Tie o’ the Day are doing the same bunch of nothin’ with me. You see, Suzanne and I go on vacation in less than a week, and I am paranoid that if I do anything interesting, I’ll tweak my insides somehow and the doctor will tell me I can’t fly anywhere yet. Anyhoo… We’re being lazy, and TOOT, TOOT, TOOT! It’s a text from Suzanne, who needed to get away from me and my lackadaisical self for a while. Of course, I know where she went to escape me. Yup, back to JOANN’S for more of FLANNELRAMA!

The text she just sent me said, “I’m going crazy with fabric. Don’t be mad.😱” Yes, with that exact emoji.

Here’s what I should text back to her: “Now let me get this straight, Suzanne. Do you know who I am? I own at least 1000 ties and bow ties. And you think I might be upset if you buy yards and scads of flannel? Did someone hit you in the head with one of those bolts of fabric? I wouldn’t be mad at you even if you bought out the whole store.”

But I’m not texting her a text with that many words. If she had to read something even that long, it would cut into her JOANN’s time– and into her Helen-free time. I’m texting simply, “I’m not mad.💝” I know from past experience that her trips to JOANN’s take 2 or 3 hours. I kid you not. And if I text her the longer response from above, it will add another half-hour to her shopping excursion– because it will cause her to lose her place in the plethora of sewing ideas listed in her head. She’ll waste time trying to decide if my text was passive-aggresive or sarcastic, or both. Hint: My texts are always sarcastic. Every breath I take is sarcastic.

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I Get Away With So Much Tomfoolery

Bow Tie o’ the Day and I picked up Suzanne from work and headed off to the park for the duration of her lunch break. She ate her usual mid-day meal: string cheese and yogurt. I occasionally eat a banana at the park, but most of the time I just chug my Diet Coke. Today, I chugged it while wearing Skitter’s new sombrero.

When Skitter gets new hats, of course I have to test drive them. I try out all her new hats before she wears them. I mean– there could be some obscure hat-safety issue: some defect o’ the hat, which would make it unsafe for my beloved pup to wear it on her head. So you see, I bravely face danger by test-wearing Skitter’s stuff– to ensure her dapper fashion safety. That’s my excuse for wearing Skitter’s hats, and I’m sticking to it.

Suzanne is a good sport when it comes to my clash fashion choices (including dog hats) and my overall eccentric behavior. She puts up with my antics, unconditionally. At home or in public, she is neither fazed nor embarrassed by my fashion sensibilities and/or my hijinks. She has never once tried to tame my imagination. She takes it in stride. She never rolls her eyes at what I wear or what I say. Heck, that’s amazing because even I roll my eyes at my shenanigans sometimes. Suzanne is so even-keeled about my behavior that I sometimes wonder if she even notices me at all. All I know is that she has never once forbidden me from doing my thing– so I keep on truckin’.

Only one time have I ever forbidden Suzanne from wearing something. She bought a new dress off the Dillard’s clearance rack. It looked fine on the hanger, but it did not work on an actual woman. It wasn’t just Suzanne who couldn’t pull it off. After seeing it on her, I realized it would have been wrong on any woman. Anyhoo… There she was in her new dress. She was primped and dressed and ready to leave for work when I saw her in it, and I said, “You are not leaving the house in that dress! It looks frumpy. It makes you look like a school teacher!” Of course, Suzanne was a school teacher at the time. We all appreciate our teachers, but you know the exact image of a frumpy school teacher I’m talkin’ about. That look ain’t gonna happen for Suzanne on my watch.

When I dropped off the aforementioned maladjusted dress at Deseret Industries, I actually felt like I should apologize for donating it. 👗

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Walker?! I Hardly Knew ‘Er!

Bow Tie o’ the Day traipsed all over Centerville on a pleasant walk with us. Okay, we didn’t walk all over Centerville. We actually walked about 16 blocks. Well… it was 8 blocks each way, but 16 blocks sounds like I went infinitely far. It was the longest walk I’ve done since late June, so I’ll pat myself on the back once or twice for doing it even though I can throw a baseball farther than I can walk right now.

We got a couple of blocks from home, then Suzanne said, “Whenever you need to turn back, just tell me.” After that, at the end of each block, she said the same thing. I kept girding up my tweaking insides and saying we should go one more block, every block. After the eighth block, I could feel I had walked too far. And I knew I had to walk the same distance back! I let my pride keep me pretending I was fine. But I really felt like the Primary song in which the “Pioneer children sang as they walked, and walked, and walked, and walked.” And even a few more “and walked”‘s.

Finally, I had to sit on a curb and rest a minute. But was I going to say I was out of oomph and in pain, and tell Suzanne to go get the car while I wait right here? Hell, no! I found the curb spot where I took this photo, and I sat down and said, “Oh, let’s stop here a minute. This crosswalk will make a fine TIE O’ THE DAY picture.” I didn’t mention my physical predicament to Suzanne at all. I just sat on the curb, got my iPhone out and shot a bunch of selfies, then looked through them and said, “Those didn’t quite work the way I wanted them to, so I better shoot a few more.” And then I did that again and again, until I felt rested enough to walk home. It worked. Suzanne didn’t catch on to my deceitful trick. I got to say I went on a longish (for me) walk, and Suzanne’s happy and proud of me because she thinks I’m getting my stamina back.

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Skitter Is Less Skittish After 4 Years With Us

It doesn’t bother me that Bow Tie o’ the Day and Skitter and I are all blurred up in this photo. I like looking at it. Skitter is always learning to love and be loved, but it’s not an easy thing for her. Giving me a huge kiss like this is just another big progression in Skitter’s life as a dog. When we rescued her, she was almost a year old, but she hadn’t yet learned how to be a dog. She had been so abused by her previous “people”– if you can call them that– that all she knew how to do was shake, shiver, and crouch in fear. She was a long-legged, curled up, cowering ball. She wouldn’t make eye contact with us. She tried to be invisible, afraid someone would notice her and cause her pain.

The late, great Roxy– fattest mini dachshund ever– was still with us when we got Skitter, and Roxy taught her how to be a real dog. Skitter didn’t make a sound for the first six months she lived with us, but Roxy taught her to bark. Skitter didn’t know how to eat if anyone could possibly see her, but Roxy taught her to take the food out of her dish and drop it right in the middle of the living room floor, to eat for all to see. And Roxy taught Skitter to beg for people food. You know– dog stuff like that.

And then Roxy left us last December, so now it’s all up to me to teach Skitter the dog life. And the bow tie life. She’s getting better at both, a little bit at a time.

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O, Special Night

Bow Tie o’ Last Evening brought it’s steampunk gears along to Vertical Diner in SLC for a triple celebration of sorts. First, it was Monday, which is Homely Family Evening– as I call it. Second, we honored Rowan for his 21st birthday. He’s officially a Toddler Man. (When he turned 18, he became a Baby Man.) And third, we celebrated National Bow Tie Day Eve. What an exciting time for us all!

We have to choose eating establishments carefully when we take Rowan out for eats, because he is a vegan. He became a vegetarian a few years ago, and that turned into his becoming a vegan. Not all restaurants serve vegan food. Vertical Diner is a perfect choice for Rowan’s food proclivity because every item on the menu is vegan. Of course, that also means there are no items for me, since I am a confirmed meat-eater. Oh well. It was a sacrifice I gladly made for Rowan’s birthday dinner. Suzanne and I had meatless taco salads, and Rowan ate a Philly cheesesteak sandwich. I don’t know what the “steak” was made of, nor do I know what the  vegan “cheese” really was. I find it’s better for me if I don’t ask questions about it. (Vertical Diner does not offer Diet Coke/Diet Pepsi– or even the non-diet versions. What animal do they come from that makes them not vegan?”)

I’m sure you’re asking, “What’s the difference between ‘vegetarian’ and ‘vegan’?” The short, simple answer is this: Vegetarians don’t eat animals, but may eat products that come from animals– like dairy and eggs. Vegans, on the other hand, do not eat animals AND they do not eat products that come from animals.

I’m fine about people eating whatever type of diet they feel good about. I don’t mock it. But I am clearly an omnivore. And personally, I think if you want to eat a piece of bacon, eat a piece of bacon. I don’t understand the eating of “fake” bacon– plant bacon. That’s just me. However, I’m extremely proud of Rowan for being committed to his principles.

As I mentioned earlier, it was also National Bow Tie Day Eve. I was so excited about today being National Bow Tie Day that I couldn’t get to sleep at all last night. The anticipation was filling my head. To celebrate this fine day, I’m loading all the bow ties into the bed of my Hombre, and taking them to Lagoon to play– on their very own speshul day. Wish me luck keeping track of the herd. 🤡