Day: March 1, 2017

Tie o’ the Day #2 is a ritzy Beau Brummel.  That just plain sounds snooty, doesn’t it?

Skitter must have snuck into the tie closet while I was watching Judge Judy. She came waltzing out of the bedroom in this tie. Of course, she was trying to wrangle her way into going with me to The Pub.

I used to be able to tell Skitter she couldn’t go to The Pub with me cuz she was a minor, but she’s not a minor anymore. I had to break it to her this afternoon that she will never be legally allowed in The Pub—because she is not a people. She had no idea she was “different”, so that was an enormous shock to her skittish, canine system.

I explained to her about prejudice and discrimination. About its many forms and guises. About bigots. About how every living thing is “different” in some way (many ways, in fact), depending on what “they” say is the “norm”. I explained that the categories and mechanisms used to commit bigotry are completely arbitrary. They bear no resemblance to the truth, beauty, and goodness of existence. Bigotry is reductive and riddled with the fear of everything except itself.

Skitter pondered seriously about the in’s, and out’s, and up’s, and down’s, and sideway’s of what I said. She thought and thought, until her tiny thinker was exhausted. And then she said, “But can I still wear the tie?”

Now, that’s a perfect perspective: Just go about your life, in wonder and love and ties.

Tie o’ the Day #1 is ecstatic to know that it is finally St. Paddy’s month. It is a tie fact that the extended family of green ties has been preparing for eleven months for their yearly opportunity to display themselves in their verdant hues. Neckwear and shirt are both created by CHAPS. I wonder if CHAPS has ever thought of getting into the real cowboy business of making chaps. I know I would be the first in line (online?) to acquire some, if they produced ’em. And I’d certainly make them a staple of this tblog.

Mom is wintering in St. George for a week or so, so this morning I drove only Pegetha on the daily drinking rounds. She gave me a tub–and I mean a TUB–of chowder for my upcoming birthday. I ain’t gonna complain about homemade eats. I will, however, have to put a boatload of the delicious concoction into the freezer. Otherwise, I will have to eat it three meals per day for about two weeks. It’s a big tub!

Today is moving day. Suzanne is moving into her new, bigger-wig office, for her new, bigger-wig  job. Rowan is moving into his own apartment with two friends. Although he is in his second year at the U of U, this is his first foray out from home, and into Renter World. He will be living only a few miles from us. And he will continue to work at the Starbucks that is located about three blocks from our townhouse. But you wouldn’t know he will still be in our vicinity based on how Suzanne is in Mommy Worry Mode. She is such an even-tempered gal about whatever goes on, but this…… Don’t make eye contact with her when she’s thinking about Rowan working on becoming a grown-up. You never know what you’re gonna get from her emotions right now.

Oh, we know Rowan can do the Real Grown-up Life successfully. We know he can handle his adult life. And he knows he has our love and confidence and support. But he and I see Suzanne’s My-Poor-Little-Boy Face sneak out across her visage a lot lately. I feel what she’s feeling. But I shoot her the “Put that face away” look, lest Rowan interpret that look of hers to mean we don’t think he is capable of accomplishing the up’s, and conquering the down’s of adulthood. Suzanne is the one who is experiencing the growing pains that Rowan really isn’t.