Category: Shirts

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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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Memories R U

I’ve been thinking about how much I enjoyed my balloon ride in Albuquerque a couple of weeks ago. Tie o’ the Day is here to tell you I had a whale of a good time.🤡 Honestly, I did. There are things you don’t even know you want to do, but after you do them, you can’t imagine what kept you from doing it for so long. My balloon flight is a perfect example of that. Why did I finally do it? Because I was there and the balloon was there. Simple as that. That single hot air balloon ride added a nifty story to the essence that is “me.”.

We should do more things like that, and for that reason: WE ARE HERE. We might be surprised sometimes about how important some things can become to us, when we didn’t even know we’d ever do them. Some of those because-it-was-there experiences might turn out to be boring, or we might even regret doing them. Or they could transform our perspective in a positive way. They could alter the course of our lives for the better. But how do we know how it’s going to turn out if we don’t get out of our comfort zone and try a thing or two we never seriously considered. I guess I’m saying to get into your “discomfort zone” and explore.

Jump off that intimidating too-high diving board. Decide where to go on vacation by closing your eyes and sticking a pin on a map. Go to a concert by a band you’ve never heard of before. Take a college course in a subject you think you don’t care about. Take up a sport you hate to watch. Strike up a real conversation with someone you don’t know very well. Ask an “enemy” to lunch. Volunteer to do good deeds you know you’re not very good at.

I could go on and on, but you get the idea. Face a fear. Experience something that isn’t something the “you” you think you are would normally do. It can be a bigly feat. It can be a teeny-tiny step. Whatever it is, it will enlarge your soul. You will be changed forever, if only in the sense that you’ll know yourself and the world better than you did before.

Memory is what you carry with you wherever you go, but you have to make memories in order to have them to carry. Get a very big backpack to haul them around. And don’t be selfish: unzip that backpack and share your memories with others. 🤠

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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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Dr. Bow Does Not Wear Bow Ties

Orange Bow Tie o’ the Day and black Shirt o’ the Day join up with pink-lettered Hat o’ the Day, for a confluence of the upcoming Halloween holiday AND Breast Cancer Awareness month.

It’s perfectly clash-ceptable fashion to throw together holidays and causes in one outfit. Call attention to as many topics in one fashion statement as you wish. Different onlookers will concentrate on whichever theme strikes them. You’ll grow your audience simply by multiplying your garb’s themes. I don’t really recommend wearing more than three or four topics in one outfit, because you risk confusing onlookers and making them dizzy. As always, though, clash fashion allows you to do whatever the heck you want. You dress yourself. Make it interesting to yourself.

I have a doc appointment this afternoon in SLC with my pain doc, Dr. Bow. (That’s not her real name, but her name has a syllable pronounced BOW in it, so that’s how I will refer to her in posts.) For Dr. Bow, I like to be extra choosy about the bow tie I wear when I see her. She expects me to show up in a bow tie that will make her “oooh” and “ahhh” at each appointment– in honor of her name. I would never dishonor her by wearing a necktie to an appointment.

Dr. Bow has been my pain doc for six years, but I haven’t had an appointment with her since the day before my surgery. I had chronic pancreatitis for 18 years before I was able to have the surgery. That meant I had chronic gut pain for that same 18 years. And that meant taking pain meds, which I hate. But they were necessary for me if I wanted to have a life with any kind of movement in it.

Getting the correct pain medication and an adequate dosage of it is tricky. To quell the pain completely would have required that I take a high enough dosage to basically put me in a coma. Being comatose is not living. So Dr. Bow’s task has been to find a med and dosage that handled enough of the pain so that I could make it through a day able to do most normal things, but without making me lethargic and loopy. And comatose. Dr. Bow helped me get the right med, in the right dosage, so I’ve been able to live a productive, fulfilling, useful life.

I tell you about all of this to give you some context about how important today’s appointment is to me. I’m hoping Dr. Bow will agree to let me cut down the current dosage of my pain med. I think I am feeling less pancreatic pain since my surgery. It is difficult for me to accurately assess my pain, however, because I still have all kinds of intermittent tugs, pulls, stabs, jabs, and pains going on in my healing innards. Dr. Bow will help me figure out some of that.

Wish me luck. Cross your fingers that I can nix some of my med. I’m crossing what’s left of my pancreas.

#iwantoffmymeds  #ithinkthesurgeryhelped  #drbowwillseemyprettyscar

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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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Arrow v. Whim? Arrow AND Whim? Arrowhim.

Bow Tie o’ the Day and I are practicing our scary faces for Halloween, even though it’s still September. Clearly, we need to work on more looks o’ horror. We woke up this morning and simply decided we wanted to give in to our whim to wear our orange and black today.

It is said that we should follow our arrows. I agree with that advice. I also believe in indulging our whims, To me, your arrow is usually a big, abstract, directional kind of concept– like where you want to go in your career; how you want your family to be; your personal goals and values.

Whims– on the other hand– are very specific things that add panache and wonder to your life. They should celebrate your individuality and give you singular joy. It’s usually  best if your whims reflect your arrow, but sometimes you need a whim to be so out-there that it knocks your arrow’s arc into a better path than you aimed your arrow in the first place.

Both things matter. I do have to say that, although I’m a dang good see-er o’ the expansive picture o’ The Big Arrow, I’ve become quite wrapped up in committing as many whims as I can at this point in my life. Hey, folks! We’re all running low on years.

The best way I can explain it is that we spend so much of our adulthood making sure we’re following our Big Arrow (family, career, education, etc.), and then at some point we realize our Big Arrow’s traveling just fine without our constant fussing over it. Ain’t really no knockin’ it off its path now. We don’t need to worry quite so much about the trajectory of the Big Arrow we’ve tended so well for years. The aim of our Big Arrow is true. It has become who we are. It is the sum of our lives. We decided its path long ago and adjusted it as needed. We we can now use the auto pilot we’ve achieved through decades of living our Big Arrow. Our autopilot can do its job to get us to our desired cosmological destination.

Now’s the time for whims. We should “whim around.” We should have whimsical attitudes. We should do things in a “whimmerly” way. We should exercise our “whimmers”. We should expand our “whimmerosity.” We should do “whimmerrific” activities. I could continue to come up with oodles more words o’ whimsy– real and made-up. But you get the idea.

I am my own Whim-meister.  You are your own Whim-meister. Play on. 🤡 😜

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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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It’s All In The Questions

Just sittin’ around on a Saturday morning, pretending to smoke a fat cigar, while I wait for my pa-in-law to show up to give me a blessing. Tie o’ the Day clashes with Shirt o’ the Day, much like the cigar is juxtaposed with the idea of a blessing. Clash should go beyond fashion. Clashy living leads to seeing the world from perspectives you never thought possible. You learn to live with questions, which leads to thinking. And that leads to living a life of thinking AND thoughtfulness.

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That’s What Friends And Bow Tie Friends Are For

I’m wearing Bow Tie o’ Halloween in this pic I recently found hiding in an old box. We were in 6th grade, and heading out to trick-or-treat. My Shirt o’ that Day is from my first concert–  Elton John. I never had a bestie. I kinda hung with any group that would have me, but I was usually with one of these gals. Going from the left of me is Brenda Lowder, Sharon Rowlette, Shaunda Morrill, Terilyn Anderson, Vicky Farthing(?), Vicki Bishop, and LeAnn Sorensen. Real pals.

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Spreading The Bow Tie Gospel Is Easy

This Bow Tie o’ the Day exudes clash fashion possibilities. Adding a checked Shirt o’ the Day to Bow Tie is the clash-sprinkles on top. You’ll note I’ve been wearing my bigly, butterfly-style bow ties a lot recently. They tend to effortlessly bounce right out at spectators, so they receive more smiles than other kinds of my bow ties. In Farmington today, the bicycling LDS missionaries– waiting by me and Hombre at a red light– took time to praise Bow Tie. I told ’em it’s my Liahona. 🦋 🚲