Category: Ties

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Another BONUS: Hairs Wednesday, Still

Same day, same shirt, different Tie o’ the Day. This morning’s post got me in the hairs mood, so I’ve been tinkering around with my mop, on-and-off, throughout the day. I don’t usually give much thought to my head hairs, but I suppose the thought of chopping off my current crop has made me a bit nostalgic. I might even miss the hellish hairs when they’re gone. Thus, me and my head hairs had a playdate today, in honor of my hairs’ service. I can appreciate how hard they have worked to amuse us all for an entire year. I am a grateful gal. I can find a blessing to be thankful for just about anywhere I am.

Gratitude is a skill. It doesn’t always come from out of nowhere as some huge, soul-stirring feeling. We have to practice our gratitude. We have to actually cultivate a grateful attitude. Maybe you don’t have to work on it, but I do sometimes. When I’m in a “poor-me” mood, I look around and can’t find one darn thing worthy of my gratitude. (Seriously, we all do it on occasion.) That means I’m out of practice. It means I haven’t been flexing my gratitude enough. My thankfulness has lost its muscle tone.

Fortunately, I catch myself pretty early in the process. And when I do catch myself, I give my gratitude a good work-out by looking around wherever I am and finding something to be grateful for–in the stupidest, most insignificant object I can see. Right now, for example, I’m looking around and I can see a small pile of dirty laundry on the floor. It’s mostly dog blankets, and they are stinky. And one blanket has dog spit-up and dog urp on it. What’s to be thankful for about a pile of yucky dog blankets?

First, the dog blankets are here because we have Skitter, and I’m grateful as heck for her. Second, Suzanne made the blankets, and I am certainly thankful for that. Third, I appreciate that Skitter’s spit-up and urp were caught by one of her blankets instead of by the leather couch. Fourth, I’m grateful we have a washer and dryer to deal with Skitter’s mess. I could continue, but I won’t. You get the idea.

Practicing the gratitude attitude means we have to learn how to see what’s been given to us, but isn’t always visible. For example, throughout my TMS treatments, many of y’all have expressed concern and support. There have even been some prayers sent my way. Similar things happened with my surgery last summer. None of this caring has been lost on me. I have heard it, read it, felt it. It is mostly invisible, but it exists. And I am grateful for it all.

Practicing gratitude also means we have to learn to re-see things that are so visible we tend to not notice them anymore– like the people in our families. They are so present we start treating them like they’re part of the furniture. We just expect them to be there– in their usual places, doing their usual things. And they are the ones we should most appreciate.

So do that. Go be grateful to someone right now. I, on the other hand, am going upstairs to do Skitter’s laundry– knowing she won’t even say THANKS.

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BONUS: Hairs Wednesday

Tie o’ the Day and I are so dang exuberant at the thought of the impending end of The Dreaded 12- month Hair Saga. June 1st will find us knocking at Miss Tiffany’s GREAT CLIPS door before the door is even unlocked. We are elated. Miss Tiffany, who also cuts Suzanne’s hair, has told Suzanne at more than one of her cuts that she has missed wrangling my hair this year. I know it has nothing to do with missing my hair. Miss Tiffany has simply missed my neckwear.

Who could actually miss my thin, straight hairs? No one. This photo is evidence that not only did I not cut my hair for a year, I didn’t even get it trimmed. Scraggly, shaggy, mangy, and unbecoming. Yup, that’s my hair. (Unfortunately, it’s kinda like that even after I get it cut.)

I had originally agreed to grow out my hairs for however long it took until they were long, flowing locks. But I caved a bit from what some of you voted for. Suzanne started threatening to boot me and my hairs around the fourth month of growth, and I finally lost patience with them around the six-month mark. If I didn’t need to look in the mirror occasionally to make sure my eyebrows and nose hairs are combed, I would have quit looking in the mirror at my scary head hairs sometime around Halloween. So I set the goal of 1 year of head fur growth. An actual time limit for the venture has helped me survive my head hairs horrifying aura.

Our last Hairs Thursday will be tomorrow.

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In Utah-speak, It’s Pronounced “EvINGston”

In the extra weird state of my head over the weekend, I thought a drive might assist me in my effort to get some of the air out of my skull. I said to Suzanne, “Hey, let’s go to Evanston for Sunday brunch.” I could say that to her every weekend and she’d be game for it. In Evanston, we eat only at the Gateway Grille at the Purple Sage Golf Course. Suzanne’s brother, James, is owner and chef at the restaurant, which is in the course’s clubhouse.

James is a swell chap, and he always gives me permission to steal pastries on the way out the door. This time, in fact, James’ son, MacGregor (who works for his dad there), came out of the kitchen with a “doggie box” full of pastries for me to take back home. I didn’t have to steal ’em! And you know what? The pastries I was so freely given were almost as yummy as when I steal them. (Forbidden fruit, forbidden pastries– you know what I’m saying.)

Buckin’ bronco Tie o’ the Day was a fitting choice to wear for a day-trip to Wyoming. And of course, when you’re in Evanston (even on the Sabbath), one really must make a stop at a liquor store to buy a few lottery tickets.

It’s not a problem for me (drunk that I used to be) to saunter into a liquor store. It doesn’t tempt me. To me, liquor stores are just more sights to see. I would not want to miss the treasures that haunt any and every liquor store, anywhere. For example, my life would be less full if I had not seen this amazing bottle of SILVER SPUR JALAPENO BACON FLAVORED VODKA. I’m sure your life is also fuller now that you’ve merely seen the photo of it. I bet you’ll tell at least one person about its hideous flavor, and you’ll both have a chuckle. Everybody’ll be better off, just cuz I walked into a liquor store. This post will have done its job for the day.

The ABSENTE absinthe box decked out with Van Gogh’s likeness is a dandy gem too. Yup, it made my life fuller just to gaze upon it, just like seeing the vodka flavor. I liked the fancy box so much I’ll probably visit it next time I steal pastries from my brother-in law’s dining establishment.

BTW The Saddle Purse was with me all the way to and from Evanston. How could I not take a saddle of any ilk to Wyoming?

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A Stinkin’ Weather Tease!

You know the sunny day of which I wrote this morning? You know the stunning sunniness of this morning when I put on my big, fat, ugly shorts– in which I planned to skip and hokey pokey under the blue sky all the live-long day? Today began innocently and blue-sky enough. And then the afternoon showed up, complete with black clouds, bigly wind, and bigly raindrops. The freshly-emptied garbage and recycling cans at the curb even blew over into the middle of the road. Skitter wouldn’t go for her walkie. For a brief moment, I thought I was living in always-windy Delta again.

Anyhoo… As far as I’m concerned, the bulk of this stinkin’ day’s stinkin’ weather stunk. This is Stinkin’ Tie o’ the Stinkin’ Afternoon, and I’m the stinkin’ skunk in the stinkin’ fluorescent green gas mask, trying to avoid the rest of today’s stinkin’ weather.

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It’s Hairs Thursday #12 All Day Long

With the help of Tie o’ the Day, the bigly clash fashion is on. This unmatched match o’ dots was a go-together must. As I’ve mentioned before, I don’t usually “choose” my get-up: I grab the first shirt I find in the closet, and I take the first bow tie my eyes see from whichever bow tie drawer I open. Or I blindly nab a necktie from the closet, where they all hang in hibernation. Sometimes, on a special occasion, I will plan an outfit on purpose. Of course, for church I tone my outfits down a bit. Okay, I tone them down a lot. It is a humongous effort to lower the volume of my attire.

But when it comes to “doing” my hair, I don’t. And I never have. It’s not just that I can’t do anything with my scraggly, overgrown hair. I can’t do nothin’ with my hairs no matter how brilliantly they are cut. My hairs are against me. They are thin and straight beyond measure. And I personally have no talent for creating any kind of hairdo. Doing hair is a craft, an art. I can appreciate visual art of all kinds. However, I cannot create anything resembling any kind of visual art. Wash-‘n’-go is how I roll. That’s why I need masterful haircuts.

BTW For my Mormon readers: I am curious about something, and so far no one has been able to answer my question. Please help me out if you know the answer. Can men wear a white bow tie with LDS Temple clothes, or is only a white necktie allowed?

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I Mustache Myself Where Things Are

Monocled mustache Tie o’ the Day completes our series of mustache neckwear. I actually have a real-life monocle, but I can’t find it. It is hiding somewhere in The Tie Room. I need to tidy up that place. I mean– if you can’t find your monocle, you better get serious and do some heavy duty room-keeping. It is never a chore to spend time arranging and rearranging the occupants of The Tie Room. If I would simply put things back in their proper places after I use them, I’d never have to sort out the room’s contents. On the other hand, if the place were always in order, I wouldn’t have to spend time in there– and I want to spend time in there, surrounded by my extensive collection of neckwear, hats, Sloggers, lapel pins, and cufflinks.

Some readers don’t believe The Tie Room exists. Well, it certainly does. And it is absolutely necessary for me to have an entire room dedicated to my fashion whims. I am often asked how many ties and bow ties I own. I never do an exact count– for three reasons. First, the population is constantly rising, so a neckwear count would never be accurate. Second, I can’t count that high. And third, if I actually did count my neck pieces, I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from telling Suzanne how many I’ve adopted– and that could be bigly bad for me.

It’s true Suzanne has a room full of her crafting and sewing supplies and doo-dads. And when I say it’s full, I mean you can’t walk around in it. Sewing and crafting stuff is different though. You can use things you sew and craft. They can serve practical needs. My bow ties are quite useless, beyond making me happy. I guess a lot of hobbies are “worthless,” but we love them. Maybe we love them precisely because they don’t do anything but make us happy. Our hobbies get us through bad days. Our hobbies are grown-up play.

If I had to give you a rough estimate as to the neckwear count, my best guess is that I have around probably 1,000 neckties and 2,000 bow ties. I have collected them for thirty years, but I have to admit I’ve wrangled most of them in the last six or seven.

I have made a promise to myself to cease collecting them when/if The Tie Room gets full. Let’s just say I’m slowing down my collecting. If I purchase a new piece now, it’s because it really, really, really, really, really catches my eye. I figure I’ve got maybe 20-25 years left on the face of the earth, and I don’t want to completely quit perusing and collecting neckwear. Therefore, I must be discriminating in my tie tastes if I want to keep actively expanding my collection until the second I die.

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Skitter Visits The Vet, Grudgingly

 

 

Hey! This is the last mustache Bow Tie o’ the Day. It is made of painted wood. Its simplicity of design makes it a must-have piece of neckwear for my collection. I have a mustache-y necktie for tomorrow, and then that’s it for our Mustache Days theme.

Skitter doesn’t have a mustache bow tie, but she wore her little collar bow tie to see her doctor today. She needed two booster shots. Every time we walk into her vet’s office, Skitter shakes like she’s her own private earthquake. When her appointment is done and we’re safely home, she gets mad at me for hauling her to the vet. She pouts for the rest of the day– like I had set out to hurt her sensitive, canine feelings. Tomorrow, she will have forgotten all about the vet visit, and I will be tops on her list again. She’ll be all hyped-up to play with me while I’m trying to get some work done.

I, on the other hand, look forward to showing up for Skitter’s vet appointments. I hate that it makes Skitter shiver, but… When Skitter and I are waiting in the reception area or the exam room, she keeps her paw on my arm so she can be sure I don’t get up and leave her there by her skittish self. It’s so sweet when she traps me with her paw. In fact, it’s downright CUTE. And you know how I hate the word CUTE, cuz it’s overused! But The Skit’s trembling paw on my arm is truly one thing the word CUTE was intended to describe.

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Hairs Thursday #11, Plus TMS Treatment #18

I don’t know what’s wrong with you people. Y’all seem to relish seeing my ugly hairs. You know how I can tell? Hairs Thursday tends to get the week’s highest number of hits from the website followers, and the number of Facebook responses are always robust. Get your fill of my horrendous hairs over the next few weeks, folks. They are doomed.

I can’t take it anymore. Even the ties and bow ties are tense about being around my coiffure. I can attest that it is horrifying to even sleep under my hairs. In fact, I noticed Suzanne is sick enough of the mop that she’s put her pruning shears on her nightstand. I think she’s trying to muster the courage to hack my hairs as I sleep. I’m smart enough to know that if she actually does the deed she will act completely innocent and claim she must have been sleep-haircutting. Suzanne’s a wily one, I tell you.

Anyhoo… Mustache Bow Tie o’ the Day got me thinking it’s about time to kinda have a neckwear theme, so I’m going to be wearing my mustache neckwear and accessories for the next week or so.

In one photo here, Bow Tie and I are simply showing you the clinic waiting room. Yeah, it’s not that exciting. I’m guessing there must be some kind of HGTV donation deal with the clinic though, cuz all of the televisions are always on HGTV. Plus, the waiting area has a zillion HGTV magazines. But I say, “Hey, if donations from HGTV help keep a mental health facility going, donate your little channel out.”

The other picture shows me and Bow Tie taking the purse for a walk and some sightseeing outside the Utah State Capitol building. We stopped there on our drive home from treatment this morning. My Diet Coke went along too, but it was too shy to be photographed.

FYI   This morning, I completed my 18th TMS session. I have 18 more ahead of me. It feels good to have half of the entire series behind me. 36 seemed like a zillion treatments at first.

After this many treatments, I’m a little discouraged that I am not feeling significant improvement in my mood-leveling. I am still stuck in a tar pit of depression, unable to swim out. Suzanne and I think we are seeing some small changes, but so far they are so tiny that we might just be seeing through our wishful thinking-colored glasses. I talked with my TMS doctor yesterday about my discouragement. He thinks I’m probably about where I should be, mid-TMS, but we decided to lengthen each treatment from 20 minutes of electromagnetic head-pecking to 25 minutes, for the duration of the remaining treatments.

I still have hope.

 

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I Am Innocent

Tie o’ Last Friday Evening is the word itself: NECKTIE. I was sitting on the loveseat with all four remotes, watching LIVE PD on A & E– which is what Friday and Saturday evenings look like around here. Now, I’m the kind of girl who refuses to stay on the channel I’m watching when it goes to commercials. I channel surf my fave channels during my show’s commercial breaks. I flipped to the ID channel, and look what I found. After I first read the title of the program, I was afraid someone was murdering neckties. But then I figured out human beings were the victims of a person who used neckties as deadly weapons.

For the record, I have been to Atlanta a total of two times in my life. I never left the airport, so I could not possibly be the Atlanta Necktie Killer– although I guess I share “a curious penchant for neckties” with the killer.

No true lover of ties o’ any ilk would cause harm to anyone.

FYI   11 TMS treatments down, 25 to go.