Category: Stories

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The Bees And The Bees

[My head is in a bipolar tailspin right now, for no real reason other than it’s just how my head is sometimes. Worry not. I’ve been in this state of mind before. I will probably be repeating some posts for a while. Re-posting is better for my crazy head than not posting at all. It makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something, however small. Thanks, y’all, for bearing with me.]

Tie o’ the Day is content to hang in the background, while Mom stars in this morning’s pix. These are evidence of Mom’s alluring ways. Dad was born into a beekeeping family, and bees were his thing. He was crazy for bees from the minute he could toddle. Based on that fact, I have no doubt Dad thought the photo of Mom dressed up in beekeeper attire was the sexiest of these two pictures. Mom does have nice legs though.

Dad’s family lived in Delta. Mom was from Oak City, a small town about 15 miles away. In Oak City, at that time, the kids went to school there until high school, then the Oak City-ites rode the bus to Delta High School every day. Mom and Dad didn’t know each other until that came to pass.

But they had sort of met once before high school. One summer day, Dad and his pals happened to be at the swimming pool when Mom was there with her friends. (I think it was the Oak City pool.) Mom was standing by the edge of the pool when Dad walked by and pushed her in.

Mom was ticked off, turned to her gal pals, and said, “Ignernt Delta boys!”

Dad smiled, turned to his friends, and said, “I’m gonna marry that girl.”

And he did. And she wasn’t even a bee.

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I’m Trying To Make Zero Noise

Tie o’ the Day is a luscious Art Deco print. My harlequin Cape o’ the Day was made by Suzanne, as per usual. Suzanne is feeling under the weather, so she took the day off to sleep. I have neither seen nor heard her stir all day. I have done my best to not wake her. I have purposely made nary a noise or spectacle of myself, which is difficult for me to do, in general. I’ve simply worn Tie and pantomimed through my entire day in the house, while wearing my cape—without even once narrating what goes on in my head to Skitter, which is how I usually move through my day. Skitter probably thinks I’m giving her the proverbial silent treatment, which, I suppose— technically—I am. But the silence is for a good cause, which I will certainly explain to the mutt after Suzanne finally wakes up from her soporific state of being.😴

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This Post Has No Title

Bow Tie o’ the Day sports molecules, and Face Mask o’ the Day is covered in mathematical symbols. Chemistry and math have never been great areas of interest to me. I do know enough about each to respect and appreciate those who work in fields requiring a keen understanding of each. Personally, most of my high school and college math was unnecessary for the needs of my adult life. Honestly, all I’ve ever needed to do is add and subtract from whatever amount is in my bank account. And the reality of that is that I mostly subtract. I know I am not alone in this.

So why molecule Bow Tie and math Face Mask? That’s easy. I am a chimpanzee when it comes to my clothing and accessories. Like a chimp, I am all about bright, shiny, busy things. I am distracted to the point of attraction to them.

BTW Yes, as you can see in the background of the photo, our Chuck Brown Christmas trees are still atop Suzanne’s Ultimate SewingBox. We are thinking about keeping them there year-round, where we can see them every day.

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Sunday Brunch, A Spat, And A Roll Of Toilet Paper

[I re-post this at the request of a reader who asked if I would “post the one about your fight with Suzanne and the roll of toilet paper.” After searching my post database, I’m confident this is what the reader was referring to. (Notice that I was wearing my grapes Bow Tie o’ the Day in the photo, which was in another post only a few days ago.) The following post hails from August of 2018, a few weeks after my bigly pancreas surgery—during which time Suzanne pestered me relentlessly about my not lifting anything, so I wouldn’t pop open my incision or otherwise damage my recuperating self. Enjoy, or re-enjoy this old post.]

Bow Ties o’ the Day had a fantastic time at Cafe Niche for Sunday brunch. As you can see, Suzanne wanted to get in on the bow tie act. We donned our bow tie bibs for the feast because we were famished, and we were afraid we might eat sloppily. The bow ties on each bib did a perfect job of keeping our clothing from being defaced by our lack of delicate eating. And bigly Bow Tie o’ the Day presents its grapes—Mormon grapes for Sunday, I’m sure.

Brunch can have a calming effect. I recommend it when you’re stressed out or tense. Suzanne and I stressed ourselves out by having a little tiff last night—over nothing of any real importance. But the tiff happened, and the tiff went on in silence, right on into today.

In the middle of the night when I had to potty, I ended up using the last few squares on the toilet paper roll. There was a new roll on the bathroom vanity, three inches from the tp holder. Normally, of course, I’d change out the rolls—no matter what time of the middle of the night it was. But I was still miffed about our earlier tiff, and there was no way in heck I was gonna politely take the old roll off and put the new one on. Nope. Suzanne was gonna have to do it herself the next time she needed to potty. (That’ll teach her!) And do you know what I thought in my tiff-miffed head as I walked back to bed? I thought with great sarcasm, “Well, she told me I wasn’t allowed to lift anything, and I’m sure that includes a roll of toilet paper.” And I sooo wanted her to say something to me about the tp roll incident this morning, so I could say the same snotty thing right to her precious face. But she didn’t mention it, on purpose, I’m sure. And then we went to brunch, and everything got forgiven and forgotten.

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My Virtual Doctor Appointment

Because I own about 500 holiday ties and bow ties, I imagine you think I have many Groundhog Day pieces o’ neckwear. But I don’t. I own this single Groundhog Day Tie o’ the Day, and unless I run across some ultra-spectacular one in the future, I’m content with this one. I mean—Groundhog Day is not an actual holiday. And it’s not even a party day, like St. Patrick’s Day. It’s just a day to gab about a groundhog named Punxsutawney Phil, about how long his shadow thinks winter’s going to stick around this year, and how we’re already ready to move on to spring.

Anyhoo… I had a virtual appointment with my pain doctor this morning. So I sat at the kitchen island at the designated appointment time, and some unknown-to-me dude starts talking to me on my laptop. I knew exactly what he was going to say, and he did. He told me he’s a doctor-in-training, working with my normal pain doctor, and then he asked if it was okay if he asked me a bunch of questions before I talked to my official doctor. Of course, it was fine with me. We chatted for probably 10 minutes, and as he was wrapping up his note-taking , he said, “Your doctor told me I was going to see a bow tie today when I talked to you.” Oh, I immediately felt I had disappointed the whole world. I have worn a bow tie to see my pain doc at every appointment I’ve had with her for the last 8 years, partly because her name is Dr. Bow. This morning, I felt like I had disgraced myself. Sure, I was wearing this Groundhog Day Tie o’ the Day, but ties are too long to be as visible as bow ties on virtual appointments. I lifted Tie so the guy could see and read it, and he liked it so much he told me he was glad I chose it. I apologized profusely to him for not having a Groundhog Day bow tie. I guess I ought to shop for one, whether I want one or not. I can’t just go around letting people down. I felt so bad for not being the authentic “me” for Dr. Bow’s trainee. How could I not present as the bow tie wearer which she had clearly advertised me to be when she prepared him for my appointment?

When the doctor-in-training signed off, and Dr. Bow joined me a few minutes later, the first thing she said was, “Where’s your bow tie?” I was disgraced, yet again. I felt as if I had disappointed her. But Dr. Bow liked the tie, too. She also said, “It’s just that I barely recognized your face without a bow tie under it.”

FYI Check out my new Face Mask o’ the Day, complete with a secret hole built into it for a drink straw. Oh, happy Diet Coke day for me!

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An Interesting Household Chore

My Hat o’ the Day is from a real place: Toad Suck, Arkansas—from one of our travel adventures about 18 months ago. We had a splendid time in Arkansas, and I honor the name of this place with a couple of hats, as is my touristy way. I wear the hat today as a symbol of how I feel about my day’s bigly household chore, because the chore kinda sucks. When I have occasion to do so, I vacuum and clean the couch and love seat. But the best vacuums in the world—pet vacuums, included—cannot suck up the Skitter fur that somehow gets caught in the furniture’s seams. My mission today—if I choose to accept it, and I do—is to tweeze the trapped fur from the seams of the living room furniture. Yes, I pluck my eyebrows AND my furniture—with different sets of tweezers, of course. As Glen Campbell and I always sing, “Such are the dreams of the everyday housewife…”🤡

FYI Bolo Tie o’ the Day is a good choice to wear when cleaning. It saves the “real” neckwear from possibly being harmed in the course of housework—while still allowing me to wear my signature clothing item.

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Reminder: Call Your Mom, If You Still Can

Here’s a picture of me actually calling Mom yesterday. Well, I didn’t really wear the face mask, but I thought it clashed nicely with my outfit as a whole, so I wore it for the photo. And, to be honest, I didn’t really call Mom on this obsolete phone which now hangs in my garage. But it’s the phone that hung on my family’s kitchen wall for 60 years, so I knew it had to be in the snapshot. Mom was the official house phone-answerer. Dad had a compulsive aversion to answering the phone—except when Mom was out of town overnight, and then he sat at the kitchen table, waiting for her call.

Please note the smudges on the bottom of the receiver. Mom was probably in the middle of mixing a batch of cookies when the phone last rang. Mom always answered the phone (and she was always cooking something or other as she answered), and then she’d use her shoulder to hold the phone to her ear while she washed her hands, gabbing away like a pro to whoever was on the other end of the line. I’m so glad I decided not to wash the phone before I re-hung it here with me. Those smudges have lasting meaning.

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Grimacing For Travel

I love my world map Bow Tie o’ the Day. We haven’t traveled anywhere since the pandemic came around, and I’m getting itchy to see some new sights. I was thinking I might choose where to go next by sticking a pin in Bow Tie’s map. But just the thought of sticking a pin in any bow tie made me grimace, as you can clearly see.

Last night, when Suzanne was at the puzzle, she asked me where I want to go when we finally feel like we can go on a bigly adventure again. I said I wasn’t sure where our next destination should be. Suzanne doesn’t fool me, though. She knows darn well where I want to go: Traverse City, Michigan. She’s just not sure she wants to go there. I’ve read about it, and it seems like it could be a laid-back place to play. It’s tourist-friendly, without being too touristy. And we’ve never been to that proverbial neck of the proverbial woods. Now, I don’t mean to make this post self-serving, but if any of you run into Suzanne in the near future, I’d appreciate it if you could sort of organically drop the name “Traverse City” into your conversation with her. Maybe she’ll start thinking it’s her idea to go there. That would really help me out a lot.🤓🤣

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Got Books?

Tie o’ the Day is a splotchy, skinny tie. I generally prefer wide ties, just because the bigger the tie, the more there is for all to see. I like my bow ties that way too. Books Face Mask o’ the Day seemed appropriate since I am tidying up my various piles, stacks, and desks all around the house this morning, and every place I tidy, there are bookmarked books I am currently reading. There’s nothing new about that: I read, therefore, I am—wherever I go. Since I like to take an accounting of things to share with y’all, I did a Books-I’m-Currently-Reading Tally. I don’t know if you’ll be pleased or disgusted to know that I am in the process of reading 17 different books, simultaneously. But what can I say? I’m in every room in the house on any given day, and I never know exactly when I will be in the mood for reading somebody else’s writing. I don’t want to miss a thing.

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I’ve Been Called A Lot Of Things, But Never This

This morning my attire said I was feeling pixelated. This afternoon I seem to have been feeling a bit paisley-ated. I cannot sing the high praises of paisley nearly enough. Paisley is a hit wherever you find it. Tie o’ the Day’s paisles do a kind of blendy thing with my paisle-filled shirt. Apparently, I can blend on occasion without getting hives.

And the bigly news of recent days is this piece of information I learned from someone anonymously commenting on TIE O’ THE DAY: Whenever I post something about how we should all be kind and be good neighbors, or when I wear a t-shirt or face mask about unity, or being nice, or having empathy—when I do these things, it’s a secret code that means I’m a socialist/communist who hates democracy.

Yup, that’s what I was told. Wow! I had no idea I hated democracy! I had no idea I was using code words for socialism/communism! I’m glad somebody told me, or I never would have known how wrong I’ve been about all this “love your neighbor” malarkey I peddle. Here, I thought I was simply repeating the lessons I was taught in Sunday School and by my parents. Perhaps I should re-think my crazy values about kindness.

Nope.