Gussy-ing Up For A Feast O’ Yogurt

Bow Tie o’ the Day is primed for the black tie formal event we’re off to attend: late lunch with Suzanne on the bench outside her office. Because I eat at strange times, I only chow down on Diet Coke at these wing-dings. Suzanne, on the other hand, eats a two-course meal of yogurt and string cheese. She always eats gourmet food. My daily meals consist of whatever dry cereal is on sale at Dick’s Market. Kinda weird that I shop at Dick’s, ain’t it? πŸ˜‰

Proof We’re Kinda Ancient

Bow Tie o’ the Day guest star is our birthday boy, Rowan. At 20, he’s a baby man. We celebrated last night at an Indian restaurant, which had vegan dishes for Rowan. As a dedicated carnivore, I don’t get it. But we’re proud of him for following his principles. See the big package of toilet paper behind him. This stuff is his haul from Costco, where we gave him a birthday shopping spree. πŸŽ‚Β πŸ›’

Thugs R Not Bow Tie and I

Bow Tie o’ the Day and I took a stab at livin’ the thug life. We wore our cap sideways, and we practiced making mean faces. This is as tough as we can look, apparently. Clearly, we failed to properly, thug-ly intimidate the good people in our neighborhood, cuz on our way to the mailbox this afternoon, folks just smiled and greeted us. They didn’t even show fear at my Spock Ear I flashed menacingly. πŸ‘‚πŸ»

A Tail O’ The Pony

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I once had a ponytail long enough I donated it to Locks of Love. Currently, I have a tiny bit o’ hair, and it’s on one side of my head. Despite this, Bow Tie o’ the Day begged me to wear whatever ponytail I could capture in a hair elastic. This is what we could muster. Perhaps it’s The Little Ponytail Who Could, and it will grow to triumph over all razors and scissors in its path. Or not. It’s just hair, after all. πŸ’‡

Another Of My Grandma’s Treasures

I let Bow Tie o’ the Day keep one item from the Desert Beach House, and it chose this. Most of Momo’s tchotchkes were dispensed to family years ago, but this 2-foot-tall wonder hung around. We have no idea what it is. As a child, I was sure a genie lived in it. Now, I’m thinking it was originally a tall, decorative, obnoxious wine decanter. Looks like it has now become playground equipment for bow ties.  🎠

The Final Last Load. I’m Sure. I Hope.

Left the Desert Beach House with Bow Tie o’ the Day and the positively last of our belongings. Didn’t cry. No regrets. It was time to go. I’m tired of living in two houses. Was privileged to live, off-and-on, next door to my parents for the last 17 years. The last two years, I’ve been in Deltassippi almost constantly, to keep Mom in line. I will miss the porch and the sky, most of all. And gravel roads. Gravel roads teach you perspective.

Mom’s A Good Sport About Bow Ties

Mom likes wearing Bow Tie o’ the Day cuz it hides her neck wrinkles. She’s had her funeral attire picked out for years, and she’ll be buried in a dress with a HIGH neck. She doesn’t want us to be scared of her neck wrinkles when she goes. Before Peggy Crane’s superb funeral today, we were pleased to see our beautiful Peggy with no pain on her face. That was a comforting sight for those of us who already miss her and her right-on humor.

Mom Casts A Spell On Everyone She Meets

Mom’s kidney doctor, Dr. Mercado, sports a stethoscope as our Tie o’ the Day. Everyone Mom meets immediately becomes her friend. Dr. Mercado even calls her “Mom,” much to her delight. This is another reason we think St. George is the right place for her: she is close to her doctors, and they enjoy taking care of her. Notice that Doc Mercado thinks Mom is so beautiful, he has to take a selfie with her. πŸ“ΈΒ πŸ“±

It Isn’t Against The Law To Match. Sometimes.

Blue linen Tie o’ the Day wanted to match with some clothing. All I could find to do this was my pair o’ Bud Light socks. These knee socks are as close as I now come to imbibing. I loved me my brewskis! Say the name of any brand and type to me, and I can remember that beer’s precise taste. I can even remember what brew I was drinking on any given adventure I experienced. And I swear this is true: different beers create different buzzes. Trust me.