Category: Bow Ties

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Beauty Takes More Time Than I Have Left

Bow Ties o’ the Day and I have been on high clash fashion alert this afternoon because Suzanne, out of nowhere, texted me from her office that we are going out to dinner this evening. Date Night! (Not Bee Pig Date Night, which we haven’t done for months. Reminder to self: drain Bee Pig.) What you’re seeing in this picture is one of my attempts to wrangle my hair into a hairdo which won’t be unattractive and/or dangerous. This photo is incontrovertible, damning evidence I haven’t yet found a workable and appealing hairdo for my current hairs situation.

The list o’ things I need to do to gussy-up myself for a Friday night on the town is lengthy. I haven’t picked out the right bow tie yet. That always takes more time than I anticipate, because I end up getting pleasantly distracted in The Tie Room. The choosin’ o’ the neckwear for a public event is an exacting task. To me, creating the right clash fashion statement is both an art and a science experiment. And then there are the cufflinks, and earrings, and bracelets to be chosen. Oh, and I gotta decide on the perfect suspenders. It’s so hectic being a girl sometimes! Gotta go make myself stunning! But my giving spirit gives you these three Christmas bow ties to behold. Enjoy.

HOLIDAY TIE TALLY: 39 Bow Ties. 89 Neckties.

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Another Bow Tie Convert

This morning we are pleased to present the TIE O’ THE DAY debut of our guest star, Lucky McGill. Lucky hails from Texas, and is part of Diana Clark McGill’s family. Check out Lucky’s suave look. A tartan Bow Tie o’ the Day sets the ambiance for any day or evening of the holiday season.

As the fashion consultant that I am, I do see one detail that, if added, could blow the top off Lucky’s hot-ness. I rarely suggest the fashion option I’m about to ask Lucky to consider. It is THAT remarkable. It cannot be worn flatteringly by most creatures on earth. I myself have never yet felt like I could pull it off, so it simply lurks in the bottom of my fashion accessories quiver until I feel worthy. Just what accessory do I think Lucky could pull off? What added touch is it that I wish for Lucky to rock? A cummerbund. It doesn’t matter if it matches or not, although I have a feeling Lucky is one of those “matchers.” But I can definitely tell that Lucky is a cummerbund pup, of elegant fashion breeding. That is the rarest of rare.

Woofy Christmas, Lucky. Drop by any time you want.

HOLIDAY TIE TALLY: 36 Bow ties. 89 Neckties.

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Ties Help Me Tell My Stories

Pieces of neckwear can act like a trail of clues, as mine are doing this afternoon.

I wrote in my earlier post that I had woken up on the wrong side of my bipolarity this morning, so I wasn’t feeling quite right in the noggin. After I posted, I realized I hadn’t made it clear which side of the bipolarity I woke up on. Well, it was the depressive side of the pendulum.

As of this moment, I’m moving farther and farther to that side of my crazy head. I know how my bipolar cycles work, so I know what to expect. Because of that, I don’t usually panic about the depression. So far, it has always passed. The pendulum always swings back to the middle. And then it swings to one extreme or the other again. There is no rhyme or reason to when the pendulum moves, which way it moves, or how long it will hover when it stops to taunt me.

Anyhoo… Bow Tie o’ the Day and kitty Tie o’ the Day are based on the movie BAD SANTA. I’ve never seen the movie. I tried to watch it, but drifted off in bored disgust. It was rank. I chose to wear these pieces of neckwear today because of my mood, which is dark, bad, mean, annoyed, impatient, paralyzed, weary, hopeless…….  It really is okay though, because I understand what’s going on. Even when it’s scary, I know it will pass. My mood will change.

Sometimes creating TIE O’ THE DAY gets me through a tough day: it provides me a purpose, when I don’t feel like I have one. I try to be disciplined about posting twice per day. If I do that, at the end of a day when I feel like a waste of soul-space, I can tell myself I accomplished something– however tiny a feat it might be.

CHRISTMAS VACATION Tie o’ the Day is the clue that tells you I was thinking it might be a good idea– in light of my below-down mood– to go in for some electroshock therapy. If it’s good enough for Clark Griswold, it’s good enough for me.

Rockin’ Tie o’ the Day is what I’m doing right now to try to bring my mood up a level or two. I’m in my loft writing, and listening to music: MUMFORD AND SONS’ recent release, BAND OF HORSES’ everything, and KACEY MUSGRAVES’ Christmas cd. So far that’s my playlist this afternoon. Music helps me deal with whichever extreme I’m feeling in my bipolarity, but I have to be mindful of what kind of music I choose during any given mood. Cranking up Hank Williams’ (Sr.) heartbreak songs is not conducive to moving out of depression. And listening to heavy metal is absolutely the wrong antidote for mania.

So far I’ve been able to successfully manage my bipolarity. I mean, I am still alive and kickin’. Knock on wood. Being alive is success. I am fully aware that my head disease can– and probably will– advance as I age. That doesn’t terrify me. I don’t know why it doesn’t, but it doesn’t. I am right here, right now. My ties surf my moods with me, always protecting me from ennui and danger. They’ve got my back. Actually, I guess they have my front, eh?

HOLIDAY TIE TALLY: 35 Bow Ties. 89 Neckties.

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Some Days Are Like That

I woke up on the wrong side of the proverbial bed this morning. I woke up on the wrong side of my bipolar head. I thought achieving the amazingly high level of clash fashion you see in this photo would certainly buoy my brain a bit. It did not. Even my first Christmas Jacket o’ the Day, combined with Bow Tie o’ the Day and Three Ties o’ the Day, hasn’t roused my story-telling spirit.

Be ye not afraid. It will pass. It always does. I’ve been through this before, and I’ve written about it before. I’ll again encounter this feeling a thousand times in the future, and I’ll write about it here that same thousand times. Lucky you!

It’s all good. I’m what is is known as a rapid-cycler, in terms of bipolarity. My mood will switch soon. I’ll get jolly in the twinkling of an eye.

HOLIDAY TIE TALLY: 34 Bow ties. 86 Neckties.

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A Likely Story

So here’s the thing: I wrote a dandy, regular-size post this morning, but I touched some key that sent it out into cyberspace nether worlds. I’m still doing some spelunking to find it, but I have no idea whether or not I’ll be able to successfully recover it. I know y’all can’t go without your TIE O’ THE DAY morning fix so here’s the photo, with nary a story to accompany it. (Except for the story I just told you about losing the story.)

For your viewing pleasure: Star of David Bow Tie o’ the Day, for Hanukkah. Christmas tree Bow Tie o’ the Day. Christmas tree ornaments Tie o’ the Day.

HOLIDAY TIE TALLY: 33 Bow ties. 83 Neckties.

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Dad’s Off Playing With His Dogs In Heaven

Santa-hatted canines abound, covering Bow Tie o’ the Day and Ties o’ the Day. Dad was not just a bee guy. He was not just a holder of any nearby baby. My late dad was also a dog man.

Especially after Dad semi-retired, he was always seen with a mutt companion riding in the back of his truck. He was partial to Labrador Retrievers, like the one here wrapped up in a string of Christmas lights. This Golden Lab resembles the last few dogs Dad had in his life. He had only one dog at a time, but somehow the dogs all looked exactly alike.

Seriously, Dad’s dogs didn’t look alike in the sense of being of the same breed. Nope. They just all looked alike. Exactly alike.  And I mean, exactly. Dad inadvertently made it even more complicated for us to keep the dogs straight in our memories because he named his dogs the same names. If the dog was a female, he named it Becky. If it was a male, he named it Bert. I guess by the time Dad was choosing the dogs of his later years, he didn’t want to be bothered to remember new names. I do think he’s the only person who truly knew the separate souls of each of his clone-like mutts.

I’m glad Dad knew I was a baby, and not a puppy, when I was born. He would have named me Becky. Instead, he named me Helen Eileen (see that story in an earlier post). I suppose you could say I was kind of Dad’s puppy for the first six months of my life, though. Mom went through Hell giving birth to me and she was not well enough to mother me for a few months, so my dad was also my mom. (The original MR. MOM?)

My sisters helped take care of me. My grandparents helped. But mostly, I was in Dad’s arms. As I understand it, I spent a lot of time cooing and crying and napping in his bee truck while he worked in the bee yards– from Richfield to St. George to Payson to Heber and back to Delta again.

To hear Mom tell it, Dad was so concerned about her health, and he treated her with such tenderness that he wouldn’t even allow her to lift a finger to change my diaper for the first six months of my life. Now that’s probably a bigly bit of an exaggeration. It’s likely a tall tale. But Dad was tall, and many tales have been told about him. He was mythical in his own way, imperfections and all. Dad was not perfect, but he was perfectly Dad. In his way, he was a true myth I know by heart.

HOLIDAY TIE TALLY: 31 Bow ties. 82 Neckties.

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Another Holiday. Christmas Is Not Alone.

Menorah-covered Bow Tie o’ the Day and I wish y’all a Happy Hanukkah. The Jewish celebration began last night and continues until the evening of December 10th. In another post, I’ll yack about what Hanukkah is, and I’ll also yack about how the word is spelled a number of ways– all of which are correct. Stay tuned for that spelling lesson.

When Hanukkah began last evening, Suzanne and I happened to be at Walmart, buying cases of Suzanne’s fave flavored water. Bow Tie was right there in the thick of things. I’m pretty sure going to Walmart is not part of official, traditional Hanukkah observances, but Bow Tie was fine with showing off its menorah-ness to Walmart patrons.

Notice Suzanne behind me in the photo with the loaded shopping cart. The cart was heavy, and difficult to push. It’s been my job over the years to do the lifting and toting and pushing of heavy things, but since my surgery, Suzanne has taken it over. I feel bad about this. I hate not doing my jobs, and I especially hate not being able to at least help Suzanne. She should not have to be the lifter and pusher and puller o’ weights. It’s been almost six months since I was sliced open, and I think it’s time for me to take my old lifting job back. But Suzanne is stubborn, and she keeps nixing the idea.

I do move heavy stuff when Suzanne is at work, if it’s in my way. Sometimes I move heavy things that don’t even need to be moved– just to spite her. Of course, they’re not extremely heavy things. Usually. And of course, I move them back to their original spots before she gets home from work, so she doesn’t catch on to my forbidden activity. I suppose it’s a bit passive-aggressive of me, but so what? So there!

Suzanne is as stubborn about not letting me move heavy objects as I am stubborn right now about growing out my hairs. She simply will not quit harping on me about how much she hates my hair and wants me to cut it. I say YES to anything Suzanne wants or wants me to do. But not about this hairs thing. Personally, I think she is not sure how to handle my NO about cutting my hairs. It’s like she’s never before heard NO come out of my mouth. It has discombobulated her.

Come to think of it, it has sort of discombobulated me too. I have never heard NO leave my lips before either, regarding whatever Suzanne wants. To be fair, I haven’t heard the word NO often from Suzanne either. We’re a pair o’ YES’s, eh?

[Thanks so much to those of you who informed me that mutts are allowed in MCR. I made the assumption they weren’t, and I didn’t even ask MCR staff if it was okay to bring Skitter in. I was a dope! Ask, people! Don’t assume. I told Skitter the fantastic news and she is already excited to go back to D-ville to see Mom and be afraid of everything and everybody in MCR.]

HOLIDAY TIE TALLY: 30 Bow ties. 74 Neckties.

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A Speedy Jaunt To D-ville

So, about yesterday’s adventure… We had such a lovely, long day with Mom in Delta I had no time to write and post about it last evening, as I had said I would.

We bawled. We laughed. We chortled. We told a zillion some-what true stories. Millard Care and Rehab (MCR) shook, rocked, rolled, and roared yesterday. Damn! Snowman Bow Tie o’ the Day and Winter Cape o’ the Day had a grand Saturday hangin’ out with Mom. Mom is, as Suzanne says, the Belle of the Ball at MCR. And she is treated as such.

I never alert Mom when I’m headed down to see her, in case something happens to prevent me from showing up when I say I will– so she’s always a bit surprised when we walk in. Yesterday, she immediately started to cry. She kept assuring me and Suzanne that her tears were tears of joy. What a welcome for us! Of course, I know Mom’s joyful tears were all for Suzanne. I’m the third wheel when they’re with each other. (Poor me, eh?) Suzanne gave Mom some winter table runner-y things (I don’t know what they’re called) she had quilted for Mom’s table and chest of drawers. Goal for Suzanne!

Skitter even drove down with us and got to touch her nose to Mom’s hand from outside, through the screen window in Mom’s room.

I am not exaggerating when I tell you that Skitter and Mom took to each other immediately when they first met– despite Skitter’s fear of everything, and despite Mom’s dislike for touching pets. Skitter has always gently pawed at Mom, and Mom has always enjoyed petting Skitter. Skitter has never been afraid of Mom’s touch. Of course, I’m sure it helped that Mom’s hands always smelled of whatever yummy thing she had been cooking.

For our visit with Mom, I wore the latest cape Suzanne created for me. [I’ll display it more completely in a future post.] The cape is dramatic, to say the least. Mom loved both sides of it. In the photo with me and Mom together, Mom is in snuggled in the cape with me. But, of course, you can’t see that very well because my stupid arm is in the way– because I’m such a genius selfie photographer.

One of the coolest features of the cape is that both fabrics are covered in glitter. By the time we were done with all the hugs and kisses of yesterday, Mom had glitter on her clothes and her face, and she sparkled like the sparkler she still is. I love that sparkly broad.

The second picture shows a bit of the other side of my cape, but it primarily shows you the permanent sign in the hall outside Mom’s room, identifying her as the room’s resident. She prizes her bewitching name sign, and will not allow it to be changed even though Halloween is long gone. If nothing else, Mom knows exactly what she’s all about. Clearly, she’s an over-the-top entertainer in her soul.

When I knew Suzanne would be driving down with me, I knew there would be a trip to MOM’S CRAFTS on the schedule. I even ribbed her that her purpose for driving to Delta with me had nothing to do with Mom, but was to go to MOM’S CRAFTS. She ducked out from MCR on her own for that foray. [And thank you, Kyla, for allowing Suzanne to spend our entire Christmas budget on fabric while she was shopping there.] When Suzanne returned to MCR, she gave Mom a peak at her fabric booty, and Mom was in high Heaven checking it out. And then Mom fell all over herself complimenting Suzanne about her mastery of all things sewing and crafting. Suzanne’s sewing head swelled with her own greatness. If Mom had given Suzanne one more compliment, Suzanne’s swelled head would not have fit inside the car. I would have had to tie her to the roof rack for the drive back to Centerville.

I can’t even begin to tell you exactly what we did or what we talked about while playing with Mom, but I think even the MCR staff had a fine time watching and hearing us have a rowdy party. All I can I can say is that the noise and affection never stopped. And the love glittered the entire time.

Like I said about Mom a few paragraphs ago, I love that sparkly old broad.

HOLIDAY TIE TALLY: 29 Bow ties. 74 Neckties.

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Sad Trees Give So Much Joy

After we shaved the lamp legs decor this morning, Bow Tie o’ the Day and Tie o’ the Day told me it was time to break out the Chuck Brown Xmas trees. We have Chuck trees in three sizes, for placement in various locations throughout the house.

The middle tree– the smallest– is named The Pub Tree, because every Christmas season, I put it on the window ledge by “our” table at The Pub in Delta. (Note the football ornament on the tiny tree.) My Sister Who Wishes To Remain Nameless and I decorated festively around our tree, but the tree was always the centerpiece of whatever window scene we constructed. I miss The Pub, my SWWTRN, and I miss decorating “our” Pub window for holidays.

The tree with the HO’s in it (I loved writing that) plays the Chuck Brown theme song music. When it plays, I “dance” to the music the same way the characters in the Chuck tv specials dance– which means I move my head forward and back, over and over. Eventually I get a neck ache and the song gets annoying. After a couple of hours, the music box battery finally dies, so I can stop dancing. So then I take two aspirin, put on a neck brace, and make a mental note to never put a battery in the music box again.

Yeah, I know I could just push the OFF button on the tree’s music at any time before all the pain and annoyance begins. But then I wouldn’t have a dramatic (sort of) story to tell about how harrowing it is to head-dance to the Charlie Brown theme song for the duration of a battery’s life.

Doing such a thing is an example of doing something for the sole purpose of saying you did. Hint: Doing something for the sole purpose of saying you did is rarely a good reason to do it. Which is why the truth is that I hit the OFF button on the tree’s music after about thirty seconds, so there’s still a bigly amount of juice in the battery with which to regale visitors. I’m sure they’ll want to boogie along too. And I have plenty o’ aspirin, and a neck brace if anyone needs it.

HOLIDAY TIE TALLY: 28 Bow ties. 74 Neckties.