When I talk to Mom on the phone, she always wants to know what Skitter is up to. I tell Mom Skitter is up to the same things she always is: She sleeps, potties, eats, runs around like crazy, naps, barks at the world, eats, potties, and sleeps again. She naps in as many different places as she she can, all day long. That’s when Mom tells me her daily routine at MCR is the very same as Skitter’s. That’s when I tell Mom that’s exactly why she and The Skit love and miss each other. You can surely tell Mom and Skitter apart in these photos. Mom is the one with the cup o’ Pepsi, and Skitter is the one wearing her Tie o’ the Day.
One of the bigly things Mom misses while she’s on lock-down inside Millard Care and Rehab is their regular field trips into the community. Here she is last year, on a field trip to Nephi for lunch at Lisa’s Country Kitchen. Mom is wearing her James Dean shades, as she does 24/7. Her neck bling is holding her cell phone. She’s got her corsage on for no reason other than she’s Mom, and that’s how she rolls. But the true Helen Sr. style shines out in her Slippers o’ the Day. Mom knows that your personal fashion should scream out to everyone exactly who you are.
Some days we just need a glimpse of yesteryear—with Mom on my porch, holding her glass of Pepsi. Note the can of oven cleaner next to Mom. She had been spraying ants on the sidewalk with Raid on her way over to my house, but used up all the ant spray. She went back in her house and retrieved a can of oven cleaner, which she sprayed into ant-filled sidewalk cracks from her place to mine. She told me the oven cleaner spray killed ants just as well as ant spray. Batman Bow Tie o’ the Day did not argue with Mom about her scientific discovery.
Bow Tie o’ the Day and I thought we should keep you up-to-date about my wasp-stung left eye and right ear. Today, I’m pleased to report that I can now open my left eye a bit, although the entire left side of my face appears to be swollen. Look closely at my ears, and I think it’s fairly obvious my much-stung right ear is plenty swollen, compared to my unstung left ear—to the point that it doesn’t even appear to belong on the same head as my left ear. My face is still itchy and twitchy and mildly uncomfortable enough that I haven’t ventured back out to my truck—the scene of The Battle o’ Little Big Wasp—to go for a spin. That’s my goal for tomorrow. Today, Benadryl is my best friend.
Yesterday was packed with drama, so I knew my Madam Butterfly-inspired Bow Tie o’ the Day would be appropriate for today’s post pix. You can’t get much more dramatic and operatic than Madam Butterfly.
So here’s the scoop. Here’s the reason I can’t open my left eye, use my left thumb, or wear my right hearing aid. My truck has needed a new battery since before the pandemic began. For months my truck has been sitting in the front of our house, where we look longingly at each other every day. I’ve missed my old jalopy truck, so yesterday I called AAA and asked them to bring me a battery and install it. Easy enough. But no! The kindly masked AAA dude arrived, and we chatted about our business for a minute or two, and as I unlocked the truck door, a zillion angry wasps flew out of their nest inside the door—directly at my head. The hat I was wearing protected the top of my head. My face mask protected the lower part of my face. My left eye and my right ear were the pests’ two favorite targets. Both of them were each stung at least a half-dozen times. My left thumb got stung at lease three times.
Y’all know I grew up around bees, so I know how to not panic about swarms of insects flying in my direction. I know how to stand still and let them move past me. I do not pick fights with the likes of bees and wasps and hornets, because I am allergic to their stings. But yesterday, the wasps who set up condos inside my truck refused to play by the rules. They were out to get me. There was bigly carnage, and I was it. I decided to not go to the ER because, surprisingly, my breathing remained fine. In a pandemic, I feel it’s my duty to handle my health issues on my own at home, if at all possible. But don’t think for one minute that my EpiPen isn’t beside me at all times.
Anyhoo… My truck has a new battery. It started right up for the AAA guy, who also happens to be allergic to insects bites and stings. He was valiant in the fight with the wasps, and he never got stung. I certainly gave him a bigly tip. I haven’t dared drive the truck yet myself. Suzanne wants me to call an exterminator to make sure the truck is completely wasp-less before I drive it away to find a dusty gravel road in the middle of nowhere. I should listen to her, but you know how that goes. Now that I wear hearing aids, I can do that thing called “selective hearing.” It’s amazing what my hearing doesn’t hear.
If you’re a regular reader of TIE O’ THE DAY, you know that I often use this forum to thank Suzanne for her patience with my off-beat whims. She comes home from slaving at her office to find things like bow ties hanging from the chandelier-y light fixture, or a tie “stripping” on the lamp pole. I could go on and on. She comes upon little neckwear scenes all through the house. I tell her to ignore what she sees. “It’s a TIE O’ THE DAY thing,” I tell her, before she even mentions anything about whatever it is. But, by now, she already knows that’s the case.
Once again, Suzanne deserves my gratitude. Why? Because yesterday, under the stairs, I found my 2012 Presidential Candidates Chia pets. I gleefully dragged Romney and Obama out onto the dining table, where they will likely sit, unboxed, in all their Chia glory until after the upcoming election. I fully intend to grow their plant-y “hairs.” I will be seeding and watering their Chia heads as per the instructions. I hope the Chia seeds will still work. They are at least 8 years old, of course.
Suzanne won’t complain about the non-talking heads on the table. She will simply work around the Chia heads’ presence in the house where they will be visible to anyone who is here. Obviously, I will post TIE O’ THE DAY updates on Romney’s and Obama’s Chia growth. Perhaps the plant hairs’ growth will somehow predict the outcome of the 2020 Presidential Election. To be fair, I made sure my Bow Tie o’ the Day is covered in red-white-and-blue donkeys and elephants. Stay tuned.
This slide is from 1969. I’m the one mugging for the camera. Mom is outfitted in orange-and-green plaid and her curlers as she bathes her first grandchild, Jeff Tucker, on our kitchen table. My brother, Rob, grins on. I like that Mom is inadvertently giving a shout-out to Tupperware—demonstrating yet another of the product’s practical uses: as a bathtub for bambinos.
Bow Tie o’ the Day and I can reasonably speculate that orange might be Mom’s favorite color. Mom wore a lot of orange outfits. Our kitchen cupboards (seen here) wore a thick coat of orange. Our living room carpet was orange too. And here’s a secret Mom was proud of: Although our living room walls may have appeared to be a normal off-white, they were not. Mom made sure Shine Church at the lumber yard added a drop or two of orange into the paint when he mixed it. I could never see any hint of orange on our walls, but Mom was adamant it was visible. And she was sure it added both elegance and hipness to our living room walls. I vaguely remember she had a set of orange sconces in the hall at one time. Mom had a knack for making our simple house truly remarkable.
Two of the things I learned from Mom’s decor sensibility are as follows: 1. Orange goes with everything. 2. A room isn’t complete without at least one sconce on one of its walls.
BTW It occurs to me that although Dad was a bigly fan of purple and lavender hues, his hunting-whatever-is-in-season also made orange one of his fave colors too. He spent a lot of time wearing orange. And camo. Don’t get me started on the camo, which is probably the official “color” of the Wright clan.
When I went to Head Start, the bus picked me up right in front of my house and took me to the school in Hinckley. This slide shows me getting on the bus to go off to my first day in the public school system. I was not yet 4. Note that our dog, Dumb Dumb, escorted me to the bus—before reverting to dogness and sniffing the bus tire for evidence of other mutts.
Mr. Farnsworth, the Hinckley principal, does our Tie o’ the Day honors. Mrs. Flora Wood was my Head Start teacher, but I was convinced she was really Mae West. I was positive all that glamour and wit could not come out of some regular lady from Millard County. I slipped up a few times and called her Mrs. West. It didn’t faze Mrs. Wood one bit.
Class photo—Back row: Shelly Shields, Darren Hathaway (?), Kim Draper, Tom Ashby, Virginia Christensen, ??, Sherry Winkle (?), Mrs. Beverly Eliason. Front row: Mr. Gail Farnsworth, Donna Harris, Scott Larsen, Phyllis Christensen, Wee me, Preston Eliason, Ruben Lazaro, Vanda Dalton, Mrs. Flora Wood.
BTW I cannot convey to y’all how much I loved the jacket I was wearing in my class picture. I still want it.
Bow Tie o’ the Day presents The Garden of Eden, as created in plastic on a styrofoam base—by my grandmother, Zola Wright. She made this wonder in the mid-70’s. As you can see, decades of dust have settled upon it. It is so precarious and fragile at this point that any attempt to clean it properly would surely destroy it. Please note Satan’s pitchfork, and the tempting gold snake in the tree behind Adam. Don’t miss the fig leaf coverage of Adam’s and Eve’s private parts. The orange critter at Eve’s feet is a poodle. I don’t know why it’s there, but I guess my grandmother knew everyone should have a dog—even Adam and Eve.
FYI It has been beyond forever since I have designed a Weird Date Night to write about, but that will change this evening. We have Weird Pandemic Date Night plans, which y’all can read about tomorrow. No 2nd post today, cuz I’ll be busy elsewhere.
I know y’all depend on me for fashion tips, and I take your trust in me very seriously. 😉 My fashion lecture today has to do with superheroes. More often than not, you must be your own superhero. You have the ability to save yourself far better than any other human being. It’s just how it is. You are in charge of you, and you’re usually the bigliest reason you got into whatever pickle you find yourself in, in the first place. Thus, you must become your own superhero.
To be a superhero to yourself, you don’t necessarily need a special name. But you do need a snappy costume. You need to create a style for the superhero you truly are, and it’s not that difficult.
First, no matter what costume you assemble, it must include some reference to at least one already existing comic book superhero. Here, you see my costume includes a Batman wood Bow Tie o’ the Day and my Batman socks.
Second, you must wear a tie of some ilk. Of course, of course, of course you must.
Third, to be an official superhero even to yourself, you must wear a cape. And in these photos, I’m wearing three capes at once. My Batman socks have their own capes. Look closely, and you will see the sock capes hang out over the back of my cowboy boots. The socks’ flowing capes make a superhero fashion statement even when I’ve still got my boots on.
And finally, choose a mask designed to scream out to onlookers KAPOW! ZAP! or BOOM!, or whatever powerful comic book word suits you. Have you got that? Your costume must include: a reference to an existing superhero; neckwear; a cape; and a mask. Add whatever else you think you might need. It’s a breeze.
There is no denying that today I have created an original superhero costume that will forever be identified with only me—at least until I drum up a different original one. Now, you must create your own stylish alter-ego, with whom you can rescue yourself from all harm. Go forth, my secretly superhero friends! You’ve got this.
