I kept it simple: a Santa Tie o’ the Day. This clothing configuration was a bigly hit at Dick’s Market this morning. There were a handful of kids throughout the store with their parents while I was there, and most of them jollied right up when I passed by. Only one kid broke out in actual tears (loud, wailing tears) when he saw me. His mother—equally not-festive at the sight of me—gave me the how-dare-you-dress-like-that-in-front-of-children look. Did I care that I got “the look”? Heck Tate no, I didn’t care. I gotta be me. Besides, everyone else in the store seemed as happy as flying reindeer to see me in my seasonal garb. 🦌 🎄
⚠️WARNING! Remember the reindeer Christmas thong a reader sent me a couple of years ago? Well, I’ll be wearing that in the next post. Once seen, it cannot be unseen—so if you think your heart and/or eyes can’t handle it, please rapidly scroll past the next TIE O’ THE DAY when it shows up on your screen. If you think there’s even a slight chance you might be askeered by it, look ye not directly at the image! You have been warned, y’all! ⚠️
Here’s Skitter in her first Christmas 2021 Tie o’ the Day. She was present, watching with doggie amusement when the following tale played out.
On the day after Thanksgiving, I was dizzy all day long. I’d get up to do something, and I’d sort of catch myself leaning and weaving as I gingerly made my way from place to place. At some point, I began to wonder if I’d started drinking again without my own knowledge. It was an odd feeling. But honestly, I was more curious than concerned about my wobbly state of equilibrium. I chalked it up to having eaten excessive amounts of cheese bread, tater tots, and green Jell-O the day before. Or maybe what I was experiencing was simply due to my age. I blame “getting older” for a plethora of inexplicable and/or idiosyncratic things that occur in, on, to, or anywhere near my body. I’m positive I’m mostly correct to direct blame at this culprit of time.
Anyhoo… It was the day after Thanksgiving, and Suzanne had her side of the love seat reclined so her recently operated-on foot could be constantly elevated. Her foot stuck out towards the middle of the living room like a sore thumb (har, har, har) the entire day. She was following her surgeon’s orders to stay off her hoof and be a couch potato slug. As the day wore on, so did my light-headed condition. So we spent the bulk of the holiday sitting safely on the love seat watching television. At one point, as I unsteadily walked across the living room to get something, I felt myself falling—slowly but surely—to the floor. To catch myself, I instinctively reached out and grabbed the nearest available object, which just happened to be Suzanne’s recently operated-on-and-still-throbbing, elevated foot which stuck out in the perfect spot to save me. Which it did. Which caused Suzanne to yelp out in pain. My apologies yelped out in response. I felt like the worst dizzy person on the face of the earth.
I saw it in my mind’s eye then: the tableau we had made at that very moment. Picture it yourself. Suzanne sitting in the love seat—footrest deployed. Her decades-worn foot elevated and iced, protruding into the center of the room. If she were moving, her joints would be creaking. She is cozily semi-swaddled in her Minky blanket because she has been perpetually cold for the last decade, no matter the temperature. Her reading glasses are perched perfectly on her nose, so she can sufficiently see what she’s currently embroidering. To conquer painful inflammation, a dishtowel-wrapped bag of frozen peas is draped like a too-tiny shawl around the back of Suzanne’s neck, which aches these days with an ever-increasing regularity.
Now picture my part in this tableau o’ long-settled domesticity. There I stand, on the verge of falling in my own living room. Babying my pancreas. Hand over my still-scabby surgical scar. My own eyeglasses on so I can focus better on increasingly blurry words, things, critters, and people. Full set o’ dentures in my mouth. Tinnitus blaring in my brain. Hearing aids like barnacles growing out of my ears. An amnesia haze developing about what it was I even crossed the room to do or retrieve in the first place. My balance weeble-wobbly, at best that day.
After I managed to sit my butt back down on the love seat to calm the adrenalin, I recognized the implications of the scene Suzanne and I had just made. I said to Suzanne, with all the exuberance I could muster, “It has happened! I think it’s official!” She asked me what I was talking about. I said, “Finally! When we were young, we talked about how nice it would be to achieve it. And after all these years—as of this very moment—I am certain we have accomplished it: We have officially grown old together!” Even with all manner of natural maladies which might accompany it, I can say it’s even better than I imagined it would be. It feels like home to me. 🛋 📺 👣 💝
[This is Dad’s obituary, as printed in his much-beloved SALT LAKE TRIBUNE. Note that Dad is wearing a Tie o’ the Day in this photo, and he was rarely a tie guy.]
Ronald Wright 6/13/1930 ~ 12/4/ 2007
DELTA- Ronald Edmond Wright, 77, died on Dec. 4, 2007 at home surrounded by his family after a valiant struggle against multiple health issues. Born June 13, 1930 in Nephi, UT to Walter Edmond and Zola Walker Wright. Married Helen Anderson, his high school sweetheart from Oak City, UT on July 26, 1948 in Manti LDS Temple. Ron graduated in 1948 from Delta High School.
After graduation, bought father’s bee operation and was known as knowledgeable, reputable beekeeper. Shared expertise, labor and equipment with local beekeepers and others he met while traveling throughout the west. To stay home more while the children were young, Ron took a second profession as brick mason. Dad enjoyed outdoor activities and was an avid hunter in his favorite Millard County mountains. Also took forays to other areas, notably Alaska where he hunted moose, caribou and Kodiak bear. The trophies hung in the old First Security Bank and in the former Wolfe’s Sportsman store. Dad was never happier than when being stung by a bee, or holding a baby.
Survived by wife: Helen, of 59 years; children: Betty and Kent, Anne and Gary, Ron and Marie, Rob and Mary, Helen E. and Suzanne; 18 grandchildren, 30 great-grand-children- and three more in a few months; sister: Shirley (Pete) Petersen; a brother: Derral (Shirley) Wright; and a sister-in-law: Joanne P. Wright. Preceded in death by brother: Wally Ray; dogs: Dumb Dumb, Becky, and two Berts.
If you’re a long-time dedicated reader of TIE O’ THE DAY, you have probably been suspicious that something is bigly and seriously wrong with me. Normally, at this point on my tblog calendar, I would have been wearing holiday neckties and bow ties for weeks now—in my seasonal attempt to wear every piece of holiday neckwear in my collection. For example, last year on this date the TIE O’ THE DAY Holiday Tie Tally shows that I had already worn 92 Christmas-themed neckties AND 22 said-themed bow ties. The complete 2020 Holiday Tie Tally total of what pieces I wore ended up at a whopping 209 seasonal neckties and 93 jolly bow ties. All the holiday neckwear filled 6 storage bins in the Tie Room and garage. The annual endeavor is always fun and challenging for me, but I’m taking a break from it this year. There will be no wearing of a dozen ties at one time. But worry not! I will still be sporting festive neckwear from now until January 1st. I have no doubt I’ll come up with plenty o’ other gimmicks to keep y’all entertained for the holiday season as best I can. I will be super-selective in my 2021 Christmas season neckwear choices. My first Bow Tie o’ the Day choice of 2021? Santa-hatted yellow lab puppies. Enjoy the merry tie offerings for the coming weeks. And a heartfelt HO, HO, HO to y’all!
I was going through photos on my phone this afternoon when I realized I had not yet posted anything about our bigly Thanks Feast of last week. I admit I had a cheese bread hangover for a couple of days after the event, and that’s the likely reason the documenting photos slipped my brain. Note this: Turkey Tie o’ Thanksgiving can also function as a handy bib!
Anyhoo… We stayed home this year for the holiday, so it was just me and Suzanne and the skittish Skitter for the entire day. When it’s like that, you know I have to put my spin on the traditional food offerings. I once again prepared food one item at a time, at various junctures throughout the day. I launched the festivities with the opening of the can o’ jellied cranberry and dumping it on a plate—thus, causing the traditional cranberry-blob-from-the-can-suck sound. And we were off.
We ate “canned”-ied yams and baby corn-on-the-cob and stuffing. At some point, Suzanne ate a whole can of olives. In lieu of mashed potatoes, I slaved away baking tater tots, which is one of Suzanne’s all-time fave potato creations to eat. (It’s true. When I’m in the proverbial doghouse with Suzanne, I just drag out the tater tots, and I am immediately forgiven.) We ate bow tie-shaped ham and turkey sammiches. There are no photos of the loaf of cheese bread I sculpted, because we were so busy eating it while it was warm that it would have been blasphemous to take up valuable eating time to find my phone or camera. And since we live in Utah, I served up green Jell-O—bow tie-shaped, too. Also, of course, we napped-and-snacked intermittently. For dessert that evening, I scooped up mounds of Dreyer’s pumpkin pie ice cream for us to snarf down until we were beyond full. Fortunately, we ate so much that I’m sure we won’t need another meal until Christmas—or possibly Easter. Yup. Mission accomplished.
I am always grateful to this world for more than I will ever be able to properly express. In that vein, I thank you folks for putting up with me and my TIE O’ THE DAY project.
This photo is one of my school pictures from Delta Junior High. Here, I adorned it with my turkey before-and-after Tie o’ the Day, to make the photo more palatable for your eyeballs. That’s truly asking a lot of one solitary tie to do!
We went to yet another doctor appointment yesterday. This time, it was a trip to Suzanne’s foot surgeon, for her post-surgery exam. After the doctor unwrapped her hoof for the first time, he practically gushed over how well it was healing after only 4 days of it being elevated and wrapped in ice. Indeed, even Suzanne was proud of how pretty and svelte her healing hoof was looking. She’s almost walking like a professional walker now, too.
For our trek to see the hoof doc, I wore my bow-ties-being-tied Shirt o’ the Day. Face Mask o’ the Day literally speaks for itself. I also donned my forks-covered Tie o’ the Day—as a nod to the fact that I’ve been busy polishing the silverware for the impending Thanksgiving feast. And the cherry on top of my outfit is the “woman parts” pin in my hat which simply says, “Grow a pair!” Yup. Isn’t that speshul?!🍴🍽🍗
I didn’t go “black tie.” This is the wardrobe I settled on for a long-awaited, much-needed evening in the City of Salt. I doubled-down on paisley with a baby-blue paisley shirt and a paisley wood Bow Tie o’ the Night Out. My floral jacket clashed sweetly with my paisley. Note the polka dot necktie lapel pin on it. And I topped off my outfit with a friendly Face Mask o’ the Evening. I wore my Suzanne-made black cape to the theater instead of a coat, but I forgot to snap a picture of it. (That’s not like me. Sorry.)
We went to a reading by the NYC writer, David Sedaris at the Eccles Theater. He’s a smartly funny guy, and both Suzanne and I are smitten with his humor. This was our second time seeing him read his stories. If he comes back to SLC, we’ll be in the audience again. He doesn’t tell jokes, he tells stories dotted throughout with humor that makes you laugh all the laughs of the rainbow—from chuckle to giggle to snort-laugh. His observational stories about his experiences during the pandemic were masterfully clever and on-target. It was a joyous night out. Until this morning.
Suzanne and I were out of the house a grand total of three hours last night, and my body seemed to handle the goings-on without any problem. However, when I woke up this morning, I almost immediately fell asleep again and didn’t wake up until after noon. I then got up to potty Skitter. I then pottied me. And then I fell asleep again, for another two hours. I am currently watching Judge Judy AND writing this post, and I feel my eyelids getting very heavy. Got stamina? Jeez, I apparently don’t have much. I’ll sleep on it. 😴 🛌
Yes, I did get my head hairs shaved this morning. It was time for a trim. We’re going out for some artsy entertainment tonight, and I haven’t dressed up in soooo long that I’ve almost forgotten exactly how to select fancy evening attire. I’m debating betwixt a slew o’ jackets. I’m looking through capes and earrings and shoes. I doubt I will wear this ocean-y lighthouse Tie o’ the Day this evening, although I’m enjoying wearing it around the house. I’m thinking I might even go “black tie” for the event, which—for me—usually means a bow tie with at least a subtle hint of black and/or white somewhere on it. It doesn’t actually have to be clearly black or white. I’m fastidious about what I wear, but not too literal about the rules o’ anybody else’s froufrou, high-society fashion. 🎩
FYI I purposely didn’t tell y’all where we’re going tonight, but I’ll definitely let y’all know in a post tomorrow. Sometimes I like to keep you guessing. Practice your patience, please. [That FYI was purely for my sister, BT, who will read this post two minutes after I post it, and then immediately text me to ask where we’re going for the evening. Hold your horses, BT. You can be patient, too. 😘]
