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The Art Of The Impulse Buy

Hey! I got my first issue of GARDEN & GUN magazine. I saw a subscription for it somewhere and I just had to have it. I’m curious about everything, and I wondered what a magazine with this title could possibly be about—besides gardens and guns, of course. After thumbing through its pages, I discovered it’s about Southern living: cuisine, hunting, entertainment, homes, etc. And gardens and guns. I’m almost hooked enough on what I’ve seen in the magazine to contemplate retiring to the region. It was an impulse buy, and I’m glad I subscribed.

Toothy Tie o’ the Day was an impulse buy as well, that’s for sure. I am not a dentist or related to a dentist. I am not particularly dental in any way, except that I am an adult human and have a set o’ choppers so I can gnaw on meat and crush goodies (after Lent, which ends later this week). A colorful necktie whose print is decorated with molars is something I didn’t need for any reason I could think of or make up—except I hadn’t owned such a tie before. The tie makes me smile, so I’m pleased I bought it. People seem to enjoy chewing my ear off about the tie (pun intended).

The impulse buy is an awesome sales notion. I give a thumbs-up to occasionally buying something swell for no real purpose. I do, however, recommend that one keep one’s impulse buys to items that are relatively inexpensive. Don’t impulsively contract to buy a ruby-encrusted yacht. You probably won’t find that buy to be prudent. Real caviar scratch-n-sniff stickers? That would be a pricey DON’T. A 99-cent pack o’ chocolates shaped like poop emojis? YES! A good chocolate prank among pals is always worth a measly 99-cents. Just because a product is odd, it doesn’t mean you need it. Unless you do. If a strange object moves you, place it in your shopping cart. You’re the decider. 🛒

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Lunch With Mom At The Hospital

Mom is as fragile as she is tough. She’s needed a little extra care the past few days, so she’s been getting some rest at the hospital, next door from Millard Care and Rehab. We kids have all been doing our best to bother her in small doses by spending time with her there, which is just as she seems to like it. She got shrimp with her salad at lunch on this day, and you’d have thought it was Christmas at Rockefeller Center. That’s another bigly lesson Mom has consistently taught us: it doesn’t take much to be happy—if you wanna be happy.

BTW For this visit with Mom, I wore some of my animal-print accessories: pink Bow Tie o’ the Day, brown Sloggers, and orange print face mask (not shown), so Mom would be inspired to reach down into her deep animal instincts to get well and get back to her digs at the care center soon. I threw on my Bernie socks just cuz he’s old and still thriving. Bernie’s always good for a laugh.

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Tending To My Stewardships

Just a heads-up, folks: I won’t be posting tomorrow. I’ve got some family stuff which needs my immediate attention. I’ll get you caught up on my adventures when I get the chance. Work, play, and be safe, my chums. See you in a few days. 👋

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Sleepless In Centerville

I had a rough night. More specifically, I couldn’t sleep. I was in a wee bit o’ annoying pancreas pain, and I was re-writing a poem in my head, and I was worrying about Mom. That’s pretty much what I do every night when I go to bed. But for some reason, last night I also had a bigly bout of insomnia. Fortunately, Bow Tie o’ the Night accompanied me through the dark hours of sleeplessness. I did manage to do some much-needed binge-rewatching of the USA series, IN PLAIN SIGHT, which is a badass, snarky, and wise series that I highly recommend to those of you who wanna be badass, snarky, and wise.

This photo is evidence of the fact that my sleep-free night was a 16-water night. That’s right: I consumed 16 cans of water while I wasn’t sleeping. I didn’t keep count of the trips, but I estimate that drinking that much water resulted in probably 7 or 8 trips to the little girls’ room throughout the night—which likely added to my not being able to sleep. Now that it is day, my insomnia is dissipating. I see a nap in my immediate future. 🛌 😴

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The Dog Ate My Post

Here’s my excuse for not writing an afternoon post to accompany this flighty Tie o’ the Day: I had snapped the photo and was composing a lovely post for it when Suzanne came home from work early to begin her Spring break. I had to close up the laptop and pay attention to her immediately, so she knows she’s home and free to relax. Believe it, or not. But it’s the dog’s honest truth. 🐕 📄 💻

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And Here’s Another Fine Mask I’ve Gotten Myself Into

[This morning, I stored the Wintry Cape away until next year’s chilly season returns. When I sat down to write a post, this COVID-19 post showed up as a Facebook memory. Hey, I can take a hint from the cosmos: y’all are meant to see this post again.]

While we’re on the subject of wearing masks to help protect ourselves and others from COVID-19…

Suzanne makes me fantastic capes, and I’m discovering that they are not just beautastical to gaze at. My glitter-fied Wintry Cape—and all my other Suzanne-made capes—can perform a public service, by acting as a protective mask for my face and most of my body. Wood Bow Tie o’ the Day’s magnetized hardware sufficiently hangs on for the ride. I’m all set. Until my next post.

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A Virtual Bit O’ Bow Tie Sunshine

I prefer virtual doctor visits, cuz I can wear my boxers and nobody else has to know.
Our wall decor tells you: I am my bee’s keeper.

When one has a virtual visit with one’s long-time pain doctor, and one is trying to look upbeat when one is—in all actuality—in a great deal of pain and, therefore, in a grumpy mood, but one really likes one’s pain doc and doesn’t want to make one’s pain doc feel like a complete failure in her work with one, and so one wants to disguise to said pain doctor the routinely excruciating pain one will most likely always feel in one’s pancreas and back, one wears a bright, sequin-covered Bow Tie o’ the Day and a bacon-and-eggs Shirt o’ the Day in front of the laptop camera. With that kind of bow tie, no one in the virtual appointment can be sad. 🤡 At least, that’s what I would do: I would pretend. 😑

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The Skitter Doesn’t Fall Far From The Tree

Skitter is a pro Tie o’ the Day wearer, just like me. She sometimes can’t get to sleep without surrounding herself with every tie she owns. I am jealous of her. If I were to attempt to sleep under my bigly tie collection, the weight would not only suffocate me, but it would flatten me out like a pancake in the process. That is why I encourage Skitter to be moderate in accruing her personal collection. That’s right: I preach moderation in all things to her, while I, on the other hand, busy my days creating an extreme, cash-draining, space-occupying, and possibly dangerous necktie and bow tie collection of my own. I’m all about excess. 🛌 🎀 👔

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The Tie Room Residents Speak When Required

Having so many pieces o’ neckwear in my bigly collection comes in handy. I can find something helpful to wear around my neck for practically any occasion. This afternoon’s Bow Tie o’ the Day is a shopping list: I’m making salsa for when Lent is over. Peppers are required, and if I’m wearing this “hot” Bow Tie o’ the Day, there’s no way I’ll forget to pick up the peppers. Salsa itself is healthy enough, but there’s no such thing as eating only salsa and nothing else. Ya gotta have unhealthy chips! Nobody ever says, “Come over and watch the BYU football game with us. We’re having salsa-and-salsa.” It’s true that I am already stockpiling non-nutritious “fake food” of all manner in the pantry: sweets, chips, crackers—for when Lent is finally over, and I can once again forage the junky food to my heart’s content. Of course, a tub (or four) of ice cream is patiently waiting for me in the freezer. I touch it for strength every day. From Day 1 of Lent, I’ve felt the sincere need to celebrate my junky food habits at the very first post-Lent chance I get. 🍦 🍪 🍿 🍫

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Neckwear Can Get In The Way On Rare Occasions

While I was stocking up on the household staples of hearing aid batteries and tuna and fancy waters, I struck gold with this treasure: a bigly Peeps-bedecked head bow tie. Although I have more bow than existent hairs, this Bow Tie o’ the Day gem comes in handy for me today. This is the kind of day where I pretend to be a gifted handygal around the house. On my honey-do list for the day are tasks like climb a warped wooden ladder to change light bulbs; stand on furniture to put clean filters in the house vents; go through storage bins in the garage, to see what I can sneak to D.I. without Suzanne noticing; etc. I will also be putting together a new book organizer—known to commoners as a bookshelf. For jobs like these, a necktie will surely get in the way, to the point of becoming dangerous. There’s no need to worry about strangling myself as my tie gets caught on household machinery I might have to reach around to make adjustments. And a bow tie can poke me or fall off into dark crevices as I contort myself into the handygal poses I’ll have to make to successfully complete my current list o’ tasks. These headband Peeps are lifesavers. (LifeSavers. Sounds sweet. I officially hate Lent.)