Author: wetleatherdog@gmail.com

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Delta’s Usual Wind Is Even More Powerful Than This

TIE O’ THE DAY was impossible for me to create for a few days this week. As you may have heard, Centerville was the recipient of some bigly winds which began on Monday night. The worst winds were more or less constant for nearly 18 hours. We got at least one 100 MPH gust, but most of the gusts were in the 75 MPH range. It was no surprise when the power went out FOR DAYS, taking the internet with it. Even our cell phones were stunted and could not entertain us. Posts about neckwear and/or Mom simply could not happen. Personally, I was most put-out by not being able to watch television. In fact, I was in such tv withdrawal that I finally managed to hook up a small tv in my car to get my fix of the local news. I thought I’d be okay again when the power came back on, but I wasn’t. The power going off and on blew up my Directv box, so I’m without all the good tv channels until the replacement receiver shows up. Oh, boy! My life is difficult, eh?

These pix are just a taste of the wind-devastated foliage in our neighborhood. This tree went down just north of us. Apparently, part of the sprinkler system in the grass got pulled up with it.

Coming up in the next post: Skitter v. The Bigly Winds o’ Centerville.

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Mom’s Hair Rocked The Early 70’s

As I have been mentioning often this month, Mom will turn 90 on the 26th. Mom has always been one to enjoy bigly parties with lots of family and friends hanging around, eating tasty food and laughing too loudly. Due to COVID-19, our family is unable to put on the kind of festive birthday event Mom so properly deserves. If I had my way, I’d put a bejeweled tiara on her head and drive her around Millard County on a parade float for her birthday, so her fans could wave at her.

Anyhoo… TIE O’ THE DAY has a job for y’all, in regard to Mom’s upcoming party-less birthday. It’s a simple job. If you know and love Mom (or even if you don’t), send Helen Sr. a birthday note or card or candy or a pony. Don’t wait for her birthday. Do it now. Let’s try to keep the cards rolling in to Mom for a couple of weeks. For those of you who live in Delta, drop by MCR and knock on Mom’s window.

Here’s Mom’s address: Helen A. Wright, Millard Care And Rehab, Room #104, 150 White Sage Ave., Delta, UT 84624

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Mom Mugs For Dad

I forgive Mom for wearing no Tie o’ the Day in this photo. In fact, she gets a complete pass on any missing neckwear until she turns 90 on September 26.

As far as I’ve been able to calculate, Dad took this snapshot of Mom some time in 1948, a few months before they got married. The location is somewhere on the Utah west desert—probably close to Baker, NV. They were both 17, and they were ga-ga for each other. Mom says they still are. I have no doubt. Smitten, the both of them.

After Dad died in 2007, Mom received a sympathy card from “one of the Lyman girls” (I’ve temporarily forgotten which one.) who grew up in the house directly across the street from our home. She wrote that watching Mom and Dad as she was growing up was like watching a love story unfold. “The Lyman girl” wrote that once—when she was well past middle age herself, and Mom and Dad were old and gray—she had been at Top’s Cafe in Delta, where Dad sat at the counter chatting with his coffee buddies. When Mom happened to walk in with her gang for lunch, Dad’s blue eyes immediately lit up. It looked to “the Lyman girl” like all Dad could see at Top’s was Mom. I saw that very look between them more times than I can count. It was the tenor of their way with each other.

I was lucky and blessed to grow up in a house with parents who were so clearly and openly in love. So many of my childhood friends weren’t raised amidst the security that comes from watching their parents take good and constant care of each other. From my vantage point, even in their rare bickering, Mom and Dad never said or did things that diminished each other’s dignity. Their respect for each other always ruled the day.

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Mom And Her Walker, On Her Way To 90

Mom has used a walker since she broke her hip in June of 2017. Here is a photo of her zipping around our house aided by her walker on one of her 2018 visits with us, a few months before she took up residence at Millard Care and Rehab. A broken hip didn’t slow Mom down much. On her post-broken hip visits with us, she took brisk daily walks through the house to keep her new hip loosened up. I asked her what she was needing to stay loose for at her age, and she wasn’t sure. But she thought it would be wise to keep her new hip loose “just in case.” Mom’s such a Boy Scout with her preparedness for whatever might lurk anywhere in her vicinity.

Note Mom is once again wearing her clip-on earrings. Also note her ever-present sunglasses. She’s as famous and beloved as a movie star. I really have seen her mobbed by her fans when they happen upon her. I’m sure Mom uses the shades as a disguise to help her lay low, to protect her privacy and her cool-osity. (Oh, and light hurts her old dame eyes.) I am, as always, in awe of Mom’s charisma.

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Countdown To Mom’s 90th Birthday

Mom is a character. She has also been a positive example of so many of the values we try to live by as good folks upon the planet. She is a woman of action. She is compassionate, non-judgmental, resilient, loyal, generous, service-minded, patient, empathetic, principled, and on and on, into et cetera territory. I consider her life-long examples of these values to be a quiver-full of gifts to me—each one important to finding my way through my life. She’s been a stellar example of her values to anyone who has spent time with her.

One value I realize Mom taught me was a surprise. And it’s a bigly thing. I don’t know how I missed it for so many years, but I did not recognize it as a gift until I became a parent myself. And just what is that valuable gift my Mom gave me? She gave me the gift of imperfection. Some parents have a tough time letting their kids—and everyone else— see them make mistakes. They can’t admit to being/doing wrong. Mom has always openly embraced her mis-steps and weaknesses, and she has tried to learn from them and become a better person. She’s never been shy about sharing her mistakes with others, so they can benefit from her experiences. She gave me the gift of acknowledging my imperfection—as we all must do—as a necessary way to thrive and be better than I was before I messed up. And Mom has taught me that it’s not enough to learn from your imperfection; you are obligated to show others how to best live contentedly with their own inevitable foibles. Nobody’s perfect, but we often waste a ton of energy and time pretending to be. Here’s a secret: None of us is fooling anybody. Might as well learn from who we really are.

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I Miss Mom’s Visits To Our Abode

Bow Tie o’ the Day naps with Mom in 2017, on one of her last sleepovers with us in Centerville. She had been wearing Bow Tie while I was taking post photos of all of us during her visit. She suddenly needed to doze, so I took Bow Tie off her neck and she conked out on the couch immediately. I’m sure Skitter is just out of frame, because when Mom and Skitter are in the same room, Skitter is right at Mom’s side.

This is a dear photo to me because Mom looks so comfortable. This snapshot was taken just a few weeks after Mom broke her hip. The ambulance drove Mom from the Delta hospital to the hospital in Provo, where Suzanne and I were already waiting for her arrival. I was shocked to see Mom in such pain. There she was—with a broken hip and in need of surgery, and she was trying to be her usual chatty, glittery self. She was trying to be upbeat with the nurses, the ambulance crew, and me and Suzanne. But her face had an underlying grimace of pain I had never seen on her sweet face before. And I hope to never see it on her again.

Even through her pain that June night, Mom had us roaring. The nurses, the ambulance crew, and Suzanne and I were clustered around Mom’s gurney in the hall outside her hospital room waiting for the room to be ready for her. A nurse asked Mom if she needed anything. Mom thought for a second or two and said, in her best dead-serious voice, “I’d like a tall glass of morphine, please.” The nurses stood shocked. Suzanne and I laughed immediately, because we know Mom’s gift for humor. And then the nurses realized Mom had not been serious, so we all enjoyed Mom’s floorshow. Mom entertained through her pain, as is her way.

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Y’all Know Exactly What Day It Is

Dot-terrific wood Bow Tie o’ the Day debuts itself on this breezy Pandemic Hairs Thursday. I don’t own curlers and other such hair accessories (and I don’t want to), so my pandemic hairs have to be managed by other means. Most days, I go the Mad Hatter route, which means I go to my Storage Bin o’ Hats and choose whatever hat feels right. And I love my hats. But sometimes, I don’t feel hatty at all, and I have to get creative. I am a writer; therefore, I have scores of funky accessories in my desk drawers. This morning, these heavy duty paper clips came to mind. I have many kinds and colors and sizes of paper clips. They came in handy when it came time to wrestle my head hairs for today’s post—especially the bigliest clip. I think the clips add the proper panache and bling to my dramatic, pandemic hairs, and I’m glad Bow Tie o’ the Day and I thought to use them. Otherwise, I would have had to use my stapler to tame my noggin hairs—with my fancy pink, blue, and yellow staples. That would’ve looked fantabulous, but it would have hurt. A heckuva lot.

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The Chia Hairs Have Been Tabulated

Barry and Mitt have reached the end of their Chia Pandemic Hairs Thursday race. Barry looks about the same as when his Chia hairs were first spread on his head. In fact, his pandemic hairs closely resemble the real hairs of his real-life counterpart. Mitt sprouted some healthy, long Chias for about a week. Now his Chia hairs are wilting rapidly and sticking to his head. I think I’m going to make this political Chia hairs contest a regular event in presidential election years. As for this year’s competition, I declare a draw. Look at these dudes. Ain’t nobody got winning Chia hairs here.