Category: Stories

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It’s A Do-over

Turtle-and-starfish Bow Tie o’ the Day is as eager as I am to expand my palate. The other day, I mentioned I picked up octopus salad at Dick’s Market while I was buying my usual squid salad. The store had never carried octopus salad before, so I just had to bring some home to give it a try. Thankfully, the salad is not made with bigly octopi. Those would be hard to swallow. So I guess that means the salad is made with baby octopi. Sorry, baby sea creatures.

Whenever I fix a dinner entrée for the first time, I always ask Suzanne if it’s a do-over– meaning, does she like it enough to want me to make it again. With that rating in mind, I declare this particular recipe of octopus salad to be a do-over. I would eat it again. Octopus does not taste like chicken (ha, ha, ha). Actually, it tastes almost exactly like the Dick’s squid salad I regularly eat.

While the main ingredient in each of these salads is the sea creature meats, tons of sliced ginger in each salad creates a perfect zippy flavor. Really, the only significant difference I found between the squid salad and the octopus salad was that octopi are chewier. Significantly chewier. I think I had to chew one of the octopi for at least three minutes before it was safely swallowable. They should use octopi to make chewing gum.

The only meat I’ve ever eaten which I would categorize as chewier than octopus is alligator. Yes, I once ate a dish called alligator-on-a-stick, at the Utah Arts Festival in 1987. Alligator is one tough meat, even if it’s skewered and barbecued and sold by a street vendor.

Tasting octopus salad was a teeny adventure. It wasn’t a huge deal, and I didn’t cringe about it or have to muster my courage. It wasn’t on my bucket list (which I don’t really have). In the scheme of things, it was a blip of a new thing to try. But I’m glad I did it. Doing it added a new story to my life. It changed me, ever so slightly. Small forays into the unknown add up to an interesting-er life, I think. The opportunities for tiny adventures are all around you, every day. All you have to do is pay attention to whatever’s sitting by the squid salad.

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Do You Want Halloween Fries With That?

Jack-o-lantern Tie o’ the Day decided to go with a clever costume. Tie clipped on a bow and declared, “I’m a BOW TIE o’ the Day.” Skitter and I went with the silly vibe costume, using the all-that-and-a-bag-of-chips phrase. We decided we are “all that and an order of fries.” Note that Skitter is so content and patient in her fry costume that she tends to nod off.

These are our morning costumes. We have different costumes for later in the day. But for now, we’re wearing our fries as we fill up the candy bowl. As usual, we had to wait to fill it until Suzanne is at work, because candy isn’t sanctioned on her diet, and she tends to grab any visible sweet that shows its face.

I am always the designated candy giver-outer on Halloween evening. I rule the door. I rule the candy bowl. I don’t care how old you are: you are welcome to knock on our door for a goodie. You are not welcome to come back for seconds. And you are not welcome to ask for extra candy for your siblings who are sick and had to stay home. Yeah right, I don’t think so. Believe me, if you try those ploys, I will give you a come-to-Jesus talkin’ to that will be ringing in your ears until New Year’s Eve.

If Suzanne’s home from work when the little treat-seekers come knockin’, and she wants to sneak some candy, she knows better. She’d have to wrestle me for the candy bowl, and she knows she shouldn’t try that– because she knows that despite my peace-love-harmony nature, I am one tough fighter. And, like any champion fighter, I fight dirty. The fight over candy is over before it starts. I win. TKO.

In the end, I give Suzanne a scrap or two of the sweets. You know the kind I let her have. I give her the “bad” candy that not even kids really want– like those Dum Dum suckers and Bit-o-Honey’s. I always buy “bad” candy as a back-up for in case I run out of the good stuff. “Bad” candy is cheap. That’s how you can tell it’s the “bad” candy.” 👻 🎃 🤖 👽 👾 💀 👹 ☠️

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A Skull Is Necessary

Tie o’ the Day presents its skulls, and Cufflinks o’ the Day do the same. We’re all getting ready for the end of Breast Cancer Awareness Month and Halloween. Tomorrow we wrap up our pink and orange and black. It’s not like we won’t wear these colors again until next October, but we won’t be wearing them with such symbolic importance. We wish you a merry Halloween on the morrow!

Anyhoo…  I was grocery shopping at Dick’s this morning, and Tie had a couple of conversations with its fans. Lisa, the pharmacist at Dick’s, especially had to acknowledge Tie. She even asked if she could touch it. Fake spookiness, like Tie’s skulls, is what Halloween is all about. We don’t want no real spookiness.

I am not a bigly sushi gal, but while I was at the Dick’s meat counter, I picked up some squid salad, which is yummy even though its squidness might spook some people. And what was sitting right beside my squid salad in the meat case? Octopus salad, which had never been in there before. I bought a teeny-weeny bit of it to try, but I haven’t tried it yet. I’m waiting for Suzanne to be home when I taste it, just in case I choke on it and need the Heimlich Maneuver. I’ll certainly let you know how eating octopus tentacles goes.

Meanwhile, Skitter and I are deciding on our costumes for Trick-or-Treating tomorrow. Skitter has mostly settled on hers. I, on the other hand, can’t decide between a slew of costume ideas. Do I go with a scary costume? Do I go with a clever one? Or do I go with something silly? Inevitably, a tie or two will show up, no matter which costume vibe I choose. Perhaps the neckwear will wear costumes. Ya never know.

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Our Last ABQ Sight

Bow Tie o’ the Day breathed the high air with us at Sandia Peak, in the mountains on the outskirts of Albuquerque.

We live in mysteries. Things we do not understand, and will never figure out, surround us. One of the mysteries I live with is Suzanne’s strange motion sickness parameters. She gets nauseous on a jetway. She gets nauseous on some– but not all– elevators. She gets nauseous on a plane if she isn’t wearing her anti-nausea patch. She cannot sit anywhere but in the front seat of a moving vehicle– preferably as the driver, which is tricky when she’s on a bus or train. At amusement parks, she can’t go on any rides that move in circles or turn upside down. But she CAN ride most roller coasters. And she CAN apparently ride a dangling tram up the mountains for 2.7miles, to the top of Sandia Peak. Explain that. Even Suzanne is unable to solve the nonsensical mysteries of which movements make her motion-sick and which don’t. We just accept these parameters as facts of her equilibrium existence. I was simply glad she could ride the tram with me.

Aside from the afore-posted fabric store, Sandia Tramway was the only other ABQ sight Suzanne experienced. She was content with those two adventures. As tremendous as the view from the peak was, it’s a sure bet that Suzanne’s fave thing about Sandia Tramway was at the foot of the tram. It was the touristy gift shop. How do I know this? Because she found four pairs of earrings. How do I know this? Because when I made my purchases there, I discovered I was paying for four pairs of earrings that magically appeared out of nowhere in my items at check-out. What did yours truly find at the gift shop? A hat and a pair of hot air balloon-covered cufflinks. Gift shops are a cheesy, cheapy rip-offs, but they are fun rip-offs.

I, unfortunately, ran out of time and did not make it to the place that I’m positive would have been my fave: Tinkertown Museum. Tinkertown Museum is a collection of one man’s lifetime of whittling projects– thousands of miniatures, dioramas, and animated scenes. Doesn’t that sound like my kind o’ folk art? I was not impressed with Albuquerque, as a whole. If I’d been lucky enough to have had time to see Tinkertown Museum, I wouldn’t care to return. But there is no way on the planet that I won’t go back someday just to go to Tinkertown Museum.

I can envision it now: One day, after Suzanne is off to work for the day, I hop on a morning flight to ABQ; spend a few hours being enthralled by some dead guy’s whittling collection; then fly back to SLC– in time to potty Skitter and make dinner. Suzanne wouldn’t have a clue that I’d even been out of the house. C’mon, you know it’s the kind of thing I would do, if only to be able to write a post about it.

 

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Where Does Suzanne Go When She Goes?

Bow Tie o’ the Day’s paw prints and bones are letting you know that as our ABQ trip wound down, I was sooooo missing Skitter. The way I wore Bow Tie– and the fact that I was rolling my blue eyes– tells you that I stood all amazed and was trying very hard to keep my mouth shut. Why? Because we were far away from home in ABQ, and when Suzanne had a spare couple of hours to explore the surroundings, where did we end up? At a fabric store, of course.

In the hotel lobby the day before, Suzanne had been looking at the tourist pamphlets and advertisements. Wouldn’t ya know it– she found an ad for a fabric store called Hip Stitch. AND the ad had a coupon for a free quarter-piece of the fabric of your choosing. I knew resistance was futile. The fabric store ended up being the first of the two “sights” she saw in ABQ.

To be fair, I willingly drove Suzanne to the fabric store. She said we didn’t need to go, but I knew she was secretly desperate to get to it. You already know I can’t say NO to anything Suzanne wants. And I have to admit that nothing pleases me more than to watch Suzanne’s face be happy in a fabric store. There was no way on earth I wasn’t going to make sure she got there.

Suzanne got a bunch o’ fabric. I made out like the proverbial bandit I am, as well– because I found some terrific cape material. And then we had to buy another suitcase in which to haul our new fabric home from ABQ.

BTW   Suzanne has already started creating my magical ABQ-material cape. Let me assure you right now that based on what I can tell from watching her work on it, the finished cape will be a light year or two beyond cool and hip and groovy. 😲 I’m sharpening up my pester skills so she’ll want to git ‘er done tonight.

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I Wasn’t Ready, But I Did It Anyway

Tie o’ the Day and I managed to sneak in a bow tie on a t-shirt, for double amusement. While Suzanne labored at The University of New Mexico from 9-5 every day, I ferreted out ABQ wonders to see. Tie helped me keep my eye on the fuel level in our rental car. I have told you and told you before, and I will tell you again and again: A piece of neckwear can be helpful in a multitude of ways– like reminding you to fill up the gas tank after you’ve driven every road in New Mexico.

In fact, a tie is a lot like a dog in some ways. It wants to make you happy. It loves you beyond reason. You can be a complete jerk, and your tie will still think you are the cat’s meow– just like dogs do. If you can train a mutt to do tricks and tasks, you can train a tie to do the same.

I, on the other hand, am somewhat untrainable. Or maybe “unchangeable” is the right word. Okay, the right word is “stubborn.” There. I wrote it: I’m stubborn about one or two or 8,000 things. I stuck to my stubborn-inity about lifting my own luggage and keeping up with the vacay goal of seeing as many sights as possible. Unfortunately, I stubborn-ed my way into bringing home an unwanted souvenir: a cold.

SURGERY RECOVERY ALERT! Skip this if you’ve had it with my yammering on about how my recovery is coming along. I’d skip reading about it if I could, cuz I’d like to skip the whole recovery altogether.

Here it is, four months after surgery, and I still get caught by limits. The things I can’t do are certainly fewer and far-er between, but some of my shouldn’t-do’s are so simple– like putting away clean serving dishes onto a high shelf. Nope. Still can’t do that.

It’s frustrating to hold back on doing what I feel like I can do, but know I still should not do. I mean– really! How can it be that visiting one tourist spot a day is the totality of what I can do without having to couch potato the entire next day? So in Albuquerque, I just pushed my way through the exhaustion and drove where I wanted and investigated what there was to see. I knew I would pay for it. But oh, well. I know that since surgery, my immunity is low and my body is putting all its energy into repairing my innards. Thus, I easily caught a cold, which has leveled me.

I know a cold is a tiny recovery bump, but I also know I must baby it a little, so it doesn’t become something bigger, which my immunity system can’t handle. I think it was worth it to grab some vacay time though– to be somewhere that isn’t my own house, doing something besides sprawling out in my own recliner.

The week ahead is a must-recover-from-vacay week. I am, however, planning to drive to Delta to visit Mom in a few days. Her spirit is always rejuvenating. I hope my visits give her the same energizing uplift she gives me. What I do know about when we are together is that we never shut up and we never quit laughing. That’s gotta be good for us both.

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Not Snowed-in, But… A Tidbit From L.A., CA

 

When we were on our brief L.A. junket last weekend, Bow Tie o’ the Day and then Tie o’ the Day got their pics snapped while we ate dinner in our hotel’s restaurants. This mini vacay will henceforth be known as The Only Vacation We Ever Took, During Which We Never Left The Hotel, Except Once– To Uber To And From A Nick Cave Concert At The L.A. Forum. Yes, that clunky, overly-long, descriptive name is what it shall be known as, in the history of my life. You’ll be able to look it up in the index.

From Saturday afternoon until Monday morning, we slept and napped and dozed and somnambulated. And when being tired made us hungry, we dined in the hotel restaurants.  We simply could have ordered room service, but I thought that would be just a smidgen too lazy– bordering on the pathetic. But don’t think I didn’t consider doing it.

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Doing Some Travelogue Catch-up

So….. A week ago today, we were in L.A., attending a Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds concert at The Forum. As I’ve mentioned before, it’s an obscure band, so don’t feel un-cool if you’ve never heard of it. But Suzanne’s life would simply not be complete if she had never seen them in concert at least once, so it was important we make Suzanne’s life complete. And by “complete” I mean complete until the next thing she needs to do to make her life feel complete.

For the duration of the event, I actually wore only the wood guitar Bow Tie o’ the Day, but I did wear my guitar bolo with it for a minute, just for this picture. I wanted to show it off.

Although I try to not match in terms of fabric designs and colors, I sometimes choose to be thematically matchy.  It’s almost etiquette to wear a guitar to a rock concert– especially if it’s a bow tie. Wearing a real guitar might create logistical problems. 🤡

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A Photo On Our Homeward-bound Flight

Bow Tie o’ the Day was spittin’ mad at the alarm clock this morning. We had to get out of bed at 4 AM to make our 6 AM flight from Albuquerque. We were back in SLC by 7:30 AM. Nap time!

I am double tired today because– not only did we have a mere few hours sleep at the hotel last night– Suzanne snored every minute of those few hours, which meant I did not catch a wink.

She doesn’t do that normally. I think she did it on purpose, just to amuse herself. Every once in a blue moon she does something like that just to act like she controls our lives. I don’t know why she has to flex her boss muscles. It’s not like she needs to prove anything. We both know she really is the boss of us. And that fact is not fake news. Even Skitter knows who wears the” big girl panties” in the family. 🤠

 

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Six Eyes Are Better Than Four

Bow Tie o’ the Day didn’t get apprehensive or nauseous on our balloon ride this morning. Yesterday’s rain was nowhere in sight, so we drove just a bit north of Albuquerque to Rainbow Ryders. They had not lost my flight reservation, so it was all thumbs up for me to levitate in a basket with a dozen strangers– at 7AM.

Now you might think that for me, choosing the exact right bow tie for the outing would be the most important thing. Normally, that is true for most of the things I do and the places I go. But no! This morning the most important preparation I had to make with more-than-the-usual great care was to use an entire tube of Fixodent to glue in my dentures extra snuggly. I mean– if you lose those things from a thousand feet in the air, you ain’t gettin’ ’em back. It would certainly make for a wild story and a host of amusing photos, but gee… that’s pushing my loud life over the boundaries. And my wallet wouldn’t be happy about it either. I cannot abide buying things I already have.

It was a tight fit for us peeps in the basket. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but I was glad most of the group used deodorant and had brushed their teeth before they showed up and climbed in.

Bow Tie actually helped break the uncomfortable-ness of being a group of strangers. Bow Tie became a focal point of comments, which broke the ice. And a couple of women asked for TIE O’ THE DAY’s web address– because of how much they adored Bow Tie.

And even though I asked her if she wanted to go, Suzanne did not decide to go with me at the last minute. And I knew she wouldn’t. In fact, I am grateful she didn’t try to go. I was just being polite when I asked her to accompany me. See, Suzanne has this motion sickness issue. She is The Queen o’ Motion Sickness. It would not have been pretty. She’s such a queasy gal that the fact the ride was so smooth it felt as if we weren’t moving wouldn’t have mattered. And it was smoooooth. We Bucket-list-checker-offers were six feet off the ground before I realized we had begun our ascent.

Kris, our balloon pilot, maneuvered us down to a mere two feet above the Rio Grande. And then he took us up over trees on the banks almost immediately–barely scraping the trees’ highest leaves. Terrifying in a fun way. Still, it was smooth sailing.

When you land, you feel it. Not hard, but you know you’ve touched down. Kris recommended we sorta bend our legs at touch-down to soften it a bit. He also said touching-down with straight legs has occasionally snapped a leg bone or two. Bend our legs at the knee, we all did.

And to wrap things up, we all got a certificate for surviving our ballooning. And Kris poured us all a glass of Champagne to toast our accomplishment. Guess who couldn’t drink. I looked at it, smelled it, listened to its bubbles. Then I dumped it and drank my Diet Coke. Pilot Kris looked at me knowingly and said, “I’ve got 15 years sober. How many do you have?” I told him I’ve got 11. How did he know, when I hadn’t said a thing about being an alcoholic? Do we all look alike to each other? I have a theory: I’ve heard of radar and gay-dar. And, apparently, there’s drunk-dar.