Month: July 2019

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Matching Hurts Me A Little

It is no secret to y’all that I have a bit of a problem with matchy fashion: colors, styles, themes, textures, and so on. Wearing a hodgepodge of attire I like is more in line with my true self than matching is. I am an eclectic gal in all things, from music to food to books. I felt like wearing flip flops this afternoon. I felt like wearing cowboy boots this afternoon. Flip Flop Tie o’ the Day made it possible for me to wear both. Being not-matchy gives me the best of many worlds, all at once.

As you know, I have never owned a purse until I saw The Saddle Purse in the SLC Airport in March. It spoke to my soul, so I nabbed it. The Saddle Purse reminded me I’ve been on the hunt for cowboy boots for the last few years. If you’ve been reading this post regularly, you know I found “the” cowboy boots o’ my dreams while we were in Arkansas recently. Was I happy to finally find the boots? Not exactly. Why? They “match” my Saddle Purse.

When Suzanne took me into the boot store she ran onto in Mountain View, AR, my eyeballs less than five minutes to become glued to what were to become my cowboy boots. I tried to look away. I tried to find fault with them. I tried to focus on other boots. These boots would definitely “go with” The Saddle Purse, in a very matchy way. Oh, no! I did not want my boots to match The Saddle Purse. But it did no good to try to want a different pair. I was smitten with these.

The same boots came in a smoky rose color too. And I tried to make myself love that color more. They were purty. They wouldn’t have been anywhere near as “matchy” with my Purse. The smoky rose boots would have been so much more my clashy self. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t love the smoky rose-colored cowboy boots. They were the same, but they were not the same. Alas! I went with the boot color I loved deepest. I learned something about myself: in some things, love is more important to me than clash fashion. Don’t ever quote me on that though.

BTW For every post photo in which my white legs show, let me apologize right now. Before I got ancient, I tanned easily. That doesn’t happen to my legs anymore. No amount of sun alters their profound whiteness. It’s just their color. I suggest you keep sunglasses handy for when my leg whiteness appears in TIE O’ THE DAY posts. I do not want you to go snowblind, er, leg-blind.

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Options, Options, Options!

I’ve been wearing my magnetic, wood bow ties a lot this summer. They work so well for t-shirts and tanks. I threw on my extreme sports-themed magnetic Bow Tie o’ the Day this morning, and I started thinking about all the possibilities. I can attach so many metallic objects to the inside-the-shirt magnet. My choices are limited only by my imagination.

Here are a few things I tried this morning: an Altoids tin; a pen; clothes pins; tweezers; my meds canister; a notebook; my Delta Airlines wings; my jump drive; my razor; scissors; a screw driver; a meat thermometer; a seam ripper; my goldfish-in-a-bag earrings; my hearing aid; a paperclip.

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It Takes A Pickles Gap Village

The same day we drove to check out the amazing Toad Suck (as described in this morning’s post), yellow flower Bow Tie o’ the Day and I made sure we got to Pickles Gap. Pickles Gap Village is a tiny conglomeration of a half-dozen businesses on a bigly Conway, AR corner property. Pickles Gap Village boasts a playground, restaurant, fudge shop, tiny outdoor concert venue, 2 clothing boutiques, and “antique” stores. I use the term “antique” to cover the likes of thrift stores, secondhand stores, vintage stores, consignment shops, as well as antique stores. Whatever term you want to give these stores, they were everywhere we went. They were as ever-present in Arkansas as the churches. I expected boatloads of churches, but the prevalence of antique stores was a bigly surprise.

Suzanne spent so much time in one of the combo antique/boutique’s at Pickles Gap that I was certain she had moved in. She ended up finding “birthday” jewelry, of course. And “birthday” clothing, which was not a birthday suit. She already has one of those. I saw the blinged-out bow tie purse, but I didn’t need it. I have The Saddle Purse, so I shall forever pine for no other purse.

We enjoyed the antique store owners. They loved their stores. They loved each and every item on the shelves, and they knew stories about the objects and their people. Chatting with the salespeople was enlightening and jovial. We felt at ease and valued in every business. The owners/salespeople were interested to know our stories too. They asked as many questions as we did, I think.

Hey! In one of the Pickles Gap Village antique stores, I spied this little trough of plastic toy soldiers, with a thoughtful reminder to pray for real soldiers.

A common farewell we got from salespersons in almost every business as we left was, “Have a blessed day!” I loved saying, “You, too” in response to that sentiment. It doesn’t matter if you’re a believer in any god or religion, or in the idea of blessings. It matters that you can recognize others are telling you they wish your life to be smothered in good. They want to send positive vibrations your way. Look for those vibes/blessings. Find them. Be grateful for them. And then, send the hope back out there.

Have a blessed day, folks.

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It’s A Place

Tie o’ the Day just had to visit a place called Toad Suck while we were in Arkansas. I admit it was the one destination that was on my gotta-see list, even before I was on the plane for vacay. It’s a fine name. It’s the kind of name that will inflict curiosity on others when I mention I was there. At stuffy parties I can easily break the ice by asking, “Hey, any y’all ever visited Toad Suck?”

To be honest, the name is the most interesting thing about Toad Suck. It is not a town. It consists of basically the Toad Suck One-Stop convenience store, the Toad Suck Ferry Lock and Dam, and Toad Suck Park by the Arkansas river. The park keeps getting flooded and is apparently locked up and unusable. But I can say I saw those three sights that make up Toad Suck. I wasn’t disappointed by Toad Suck one bit. I completely expected it to suck, and it did. As for the “toad” part of its name, I’m sure there are plenty of toads on the river side of the park, where we couldn’t go because the park was closed. I expected nothing more and nothing less.

BTW Toad Suck Daze is a festival that goes on each May in the city of Conway, AR. Toad Suck sucks so much it isn’t even capable of holding its own community celebration. Perfect.

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The Bigly And The Not-so-bigly

At the end of our Blanchard Springs Caverns tour, we had to be taken by bus back to the entrance and visitor’s center parking lot. Our tour guide and the bus driver told us we MUST visit the nearby waterfall. We didn’t even know the waterfall existed. They assured us it would be worth our time to drive there because it was spectacular. They let us know we could even swim and walk under and behind the waterfall. They had me wishing I had worn my stripey, old-timey swimming suit that day. We listened carefully to the detailed directions they gave us, and we left the parking lot determined to find this scenic, watery wonder.

We found the ‘fall, as shown by the photo. The waterfall’s not-so-bigliness is not a trick of photography. We are standing about 20 feet from it. Even magnetic, wood polka dot Bow Tie o’ the Day was disappointed. Suzanne and I just kind of stood there for a few minutes, stunned. We knew we were at the right waterfall, cuz other tourists were there gawking at the thing, but… I have a difficult time thinking folks in the Ozarks– or tourists to the Ozarks– think this is a breathtaking waterfall, so I’m mystified about what makes it visit-worthy. Is it just the ONLY waterfall in the Ozarks? Well, I know that can’t possibly be the case. We left that sight pretty quickly, then drove to Mountain View to grab some lunch, and window-shop before heading back to our condo in Fairfield Bay.

[Mountain View ended up being an unexpectedly memorable place for me. It’s where Suzanne found a cowboy boot place she thought I’d be interested in. She wrangled me in through its door, and I found my cowboy boots. More on the boots, in a future post.]

The lawn chairs photo shows the entrance to the resort where we stayed in Arkansas. The chairs are as oversized as the waterfall was puny. In fact, I think the chairs are taller than the waterfall. I’m estimating the chairs are around 9 feet tall. I should have placed bow ties on them, or sat on one myself before taking the pic. That way you would have a more accurate idea of the chairs’ size. I’ll be honest with you though: when I stopped to take this snapshot, I was grouchy. It had been a long day, and I was hungry, tired, and needed to pee. All I wanted to do was get back to the condo. I slept like a baby that night, but I ran out of vacay time to go back and stage me and the bow ties on the chairs for proper photos. I guess I’ll have to go back so I can get those shots for y’all. Arkansas is a do-over for me.

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And We Saw Bats, Too

Magnetic, polka dot Bow Tie o’ the Day went along with us to the Ozark – St. Francis National Forests, where we did a somewhat touristy thing. We went on a tour of Blanchard Springs Caverns– a bigly cave with bigly “rooms.” Up and down, we went. 700 stairs, according to our tour guide.

I have only visited one other cave in my many-adventure life– Lehman Caves near Baker, NV– so I don’t have a plethora o’ caves with which to compare it, but I can attest Blanchard Springs Caverns was nowhere near as “tight” as Lehman Caves. It was spacious. In fact, the cave was cavernous! It was also nice to be out of the South’s humidity for a couple of hours, despite the 700 stairs.

Based on the only two caves I’ve toured, my verdict is that if you’ve seen one cave, you have NOT seen them all. I believe I have a cave or two left in my travel itinerary before I and my bones are too decrepit to spelunk.

BTW Do you know what Suzanne wanted from the gift shop at Blanchard Springs Caverns? A whetstone with which to sharpen our kitchen knives. She can be as unusual in her purchases as I am. But, as far as I know, she does not intend to start a whetstone collection as I have done with my neckwear. There’s simply no more space in The Tie Room anyway.

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The Photos That Never Were

This post answers a question I have no doubt you’ve lost sleep over: “Does Helen E. wear a bow tie when she swims?” Bow Tie o’ the Swimming-in-Arkansas reveals the obvious answer. Why, yes. Yes, I do.

Have I said I love my old-timey swimming suit lately? Love it, I do. I really could have worn it the entire vacation because of the high humidity. I was practically doggy-paddling through the water-logged air everywhere we went.

These pool photos aren’t all that exciting, although I did a whole program of entertaining swimming pool moves. It’s Suzanne’s fault there are no photos capturing my award-worthy, watery feats. Suzanne and I were bobbin’ around in the pool, and when she got out, I said it was time for her to take my TIE O’ THE DAY pix. I saw her sit on her lounger and pick up her phone. It was pointed in my direction. That was my cue. I popped up and out of the water like a porpoise a couple of times. I did a few bodybuilder poses while standing in the shallow end of the pool. I sang a wet YMCA and spelled it out with my arms exactly how you’re supposed to do it. I walked like an Egyptian. Suzanne’s phone was still pointing straight at me in the water.

However, when Suzanne grabbed her phone, she noticed a bigly bunch of text messages had come through. She promptly forgot about taking pix of me and my hijinks. Of course, I was unaware she was distracted by people who weren’t even in Arkansas. I assumed the phone in front of her face was snapping shots of my poses for all to see.

But no. Nope. No way. It turns out I spent a speshul twenty minutes in the pool being wacky and pleasantly buoyant, and I have no photographic evidence to show for it. When I got out of the pool to lounge on my lounger, Suzanne told me about the debacle. I headed back into the water and attempted to re-create my show. Suzanne was right there shooting pix of me this time, but our efforts were to no avail. I had worn myself out with my first performance. I had no obnoxious water-posing left in me, as you can plainly see.

Thinking about the no-photo session when Suzanne didn’t take pictures of me made me do something I rarely do. I got slightly embarrassed. I had been clowning around and splashing, and I was doing it in front of a crowd full of everyone’s attention but Suzanne’s, and she is always my target audience. Doh!

Oh well. My embarrassment did not last long. I feel bad Suzanne missed my Esther Williams-style production, but I most likely amused at least some of the other pool-goers. They’ll have stories to tell when they go back home. And, above all, I got to wear my stripey, old-timey swimming suit and swim in Bow Tie o’ the Swimming-in-Arkansas. Once again, I live a bigly life.

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Adventures In Bipolarity And Guitars

I must apologize for the irregular posting this week. I have more Arkansas posts to write but I’ve had odd bipolar spells since I got home from our Ozarks vacation. My storyteller has gone kaput, temporarily I’m sure.

I tried to explain to Suzanne what my brain is doing, and the best I could come up with is this: it seems as if I can feel each and every one of my blood cells race through me, while simultaneously feeling the kind of exhaustion that will drag me to sleep if I sit down and close my eyelids for more than four seconds. It’s the worst of both poles. But this too shall pass, and so I’m fine.

Anyhoo… I’ll get back to sharing tidbits from our mountain redneck trip as soon as I can. But for right now, here are some pix from last night’s BAND OF HORSES concert at The Union, in SLC. Yeah, we saw them in April in Las Vegas, but we had to get another listen. Yeehaw! Solid performance, once again. The opening act was Nikki Lane, who twanged Suzanne into a tizzy. Suzanne does not do twang. Personally, I would have preferred to listen to the clever Kacey Musgraves, but I can’t complain. BAND OF HORSES speaks to me.

Horseshoe Bow Tie o’ the Concert made sure I brought along my Saddle Purse, which Suzanne was good enough to hold for our snapshots. The photo of me being blurry is a telling illustration of my agitated state of mind and body, with my manic blood cells doing their jigs and all.

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Church Shirts

Yesterday afternoon’s post told you Bow Tie o’ the Day and I were blown away by the number of churches we kept bumping into on our Arkansas travels. I would describe the density of the churches there as follows: I saw more churches per acre than I saw acres per acre. That’s a slew o’ churches.

At a boutique in Pickle’s Gap Village, these two Christian t-shirts caught my attention. Bow Tie o’ the Day and I are pleased to share the message of love, as well as the exasperated cackle of being human.

And yes, I was raised in a barn, so now you can all quit asking me if I was.

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Can’t See The Trees For The Forest

Bow Tie o’ the Day shines right along with my Hat o’ the Day, which I found in the AR store where I bought my cowboy boots. They were both good travel companions on that particular day trip.

The itineraries for my vacations have consistently morphed into shorter and shorter “must do” lists, no matter where I visit. Oddly, we travel more often now, but we find ourselves seeking out fewer of the “sights” the guide books tell us we must see.

To gander at a place’s churches is always on my travel “must do” list. I can say without a doubt that the Arkansas landscape is replete with churches– mostly Baptist, but it’s well-peppered with plenty of Methodist churches hither and yon too. The churches are in shopping malls, deserted convenience stores, empty farm machinery buildings, etc., as well as their own buildings. From the speeding car, I even saw a storage unit which was being used as a church. The motto on this Conway, AR church wall in the photo is both bigly and true. Ya gotta have good roots if you wanna yield a good crop. Simple as that.

I am a fan of church buildings. I make it a point to appreciate the skillful architecture of church buildings of all denominations. Because I was born into Mormondom, I especially have watched the development of modern LDS churches over time and places. I mean no disrespect, but LDS ward buildings are not breathtaking. They are functional. Their beauty lies almost solely in their functionality. If you have seen only a few LDS ward building designs, you have sort of seen them all. In central Arkansas, it wasn’t difficult for me to easily identify Mormon churches from the proverbial mile away. They are iconic sights, with a mostly singular artistic gist.

Seeing so many churches everywhere we went in AR got me thinking about my kidhood church. Permit me to say I miss my old, long-demolished, not-up-to-code Delta Second Ward church building, which had been built by the ward members’ themselves– not just with their money, but also with their very hands. It was an original, one-of-a-kind ward building, which reflected its people.

The chapel had an entire wall of tall windows, through which you could watch the beauty of the farming community– while you learned about the beauty of the spiritual world within it. Some basement classrooms had exposed pipes a kid could climb on and swing from until your teacher wrangled you down and got you in bigly trouble with your parents. There were nooks and crannies and dead ends for playing Primary hide-and-seek in winter. And the long, dark basement hall was perfect for a kid’s illegal running. Even a toddler-age Bishop Travis donned his Batman/Superman reversible cape and flew through the basement halls of the Delta Second Ward church to save the world from the bad guys.

Heck, I can remember when the Delta Second Ward building still had tiny spittoons and ash trays attached to the backs of a couple of pews. On those same pew backs, next to them and the hymn books, you could plug in your hearing aid to listen to the speakers give their edifying lessons. Somehow, of course, my kid-logic brain connected losing your hearing to the use of tobacco.

For the record, I’ve had to wear a hearing aid for just over a year now, but I have never been a user o’ the tobacky leaf. My kid-logic brain would be so confused.