Somebody sent me this formal, holiday party outfit, which I’m modeling over my Grinch pajama bottoms and under some random pajama top. The look of my new gift of clothing is festive and pepperminty, eh?
This black-tie bow tie attire simply showed up in an innocent-looking package in my mailbox a few days ago. I’m not sure who it is I should be thanking for such an idiosyncratic X-mas gift, or even if I should be thanking someone at all. But really, the skimpy outfit is the totality of the package’s contents. No note, no card, no letter. No return address. Who knew a red-and-white elastic collar with a solid black Bow Tie o’ the Day sewn on it skiwampusly would show up attached to a thong with more red-and-white elastic? Genius!
To the lost party soul who sent me this attire: Thank you for thinking of me. Thank you for adding a bow tie item to the TIE O’ THE DAY Christmas collection. Please be okay with the fact that I chose to wear my black Bow Tie o’ the Day thong outfit over my pj’s, and not by itself. Yes, be thankful. Be very, very thankful.
BTW Thanks again for crocheting me these great Bow Tie Slippers o’ Many Days, Georgia Grayson Wadsworth.
Bow Ties o’ the Day and Ties o’ the Day want me to make sure they are seen by our audience this year, and the countdown to Christmas is almost at zero. When I’m tooling around in The Tie Room these days, it’s clear to us all that not all holiday ties will be able to be presented on the posts, let alone worn in them before X-mas is over. Some of the neckwear got a committee together and they did a wee protest about probably not having the opportunity to reach their much-deserved stardom. I gave in, of course. I’ve packed a bunch of ’em into this Sabbath morning post, so they’ll be quiet, and I can get back to falling asleep in the recliner. Enjoy the bow ties and ties. Also, enjoy the bigly leap the tie total makes.
BTW My fave bow tie in this offering is the Ugly Sweater Bow Tie o’ the Day.
Bow Tie o’ Yesterday is worn by Skitter. It’s a black-and-white, checked number. It’s not a holiday bow tie, so it won’t add to our holiday tie total, but who the heck cares? Here sit Mom and Skitter in Mom’s room at MCR. I think this is one of my all-time fave photos of Mom. The ever-so slight smile on her face as she looks down at Skitter is just plain full of love and sweetness. As I’ve mentioned before, Skitter is the only mutt Mom has ever warmed up to. And I do mean ever in her life. And despite Skitter’s skittishness and paranoia, she and Mom gravitated to each other the minute we introduced them five years ago.
Skitter was a hit at MCR, as I’m sure all canine visitors are. I was pleased with how she handled the new situation. Big building. Lots of people. Lots of folks petting her. She did shake, but not bigly. And she was like velcro to me wherever we went– except in Mom’s room, where Skitter and Mom acted like Suzanne and I weren’t even there. Overall, Skitter did enjoy her outing, despite her fears. She is already nagging us about going back to visit Grandma ASAP.
When we walked into Mom’s room at MCR, Mom immediately beamed. And she wasn’t beaming because of my smashing wintry cape. She wasn’t even beaming about Suzanne being there. Nope. When Mom saw Skitter in the flesh… er, in the fur, she almost blew a happy gasket. (I have no idea what a gasket is, but I know the saying. And I know it has something to do with a car.) In fact, when Skitter and Mom saw each other, the scene was like those sappy movies where two people see each other across a field and they run to each other and embrace for the rest of their lives, or until the movie ends. Well, it wasn’t exactly like that, but it was close. We tried to keep Skitter at the bottom of Mom’s bed, but she kept inching her way up to Mom’s side, which was perfectly enjoyable to Mom.
Please notice Mom’s new cozy house jacket. Her friend, Judie Curtis, stopped by to visit Mom while we were there. Heck, Judie even showed up with gifts for me and Suzanne. Judie is Mom’s “favorite daughter,” and Judie never let’s us forget it. That makes Judie my “favorite sister.”
As always, Mom was in feisty, funny spirits yesterday. But I think we sort of caught her on a bad day. Her blood sugar was way way way way too high, so it was a little difficult for her to keep up with the finer points of our conversations and humor. She was still herself though– especially when the staff told her she is no longer allowed to drink Pepsi until her blood sugar gets back into whack. She was very vocal about how important her drinking is to her, and about how yucky Diet Pepsi tastes to her. She mentioned it many times. Loudly. It was gripe, gripe, gripe. In a mostly-funny way, of course. But she drank the Diet Pepsi anyway. And she drank more than one.
I love that shrinking woman.
Our HOLIDAY TIE TALLY holds at 76 Bow ties, and 147 neckties.
Hey, here’s another of Momo’s milkweed pod nativity scenes. And then there are two Snoopy Ties o’ the Day, and three Bow Ties o’ the Day with their teddy bears, wrapped gifts, and an itty-bitty train.
The neckwear and I have been caught up in some Christmas adventures. We’ll update you ASAP. Keep eyeing the bow ties and ties. And remember to say your HO’s to all you greet.
Just canines. Bow Tie o’ the Day and Ties o’ the Day say, “Woofy Christmas.” And don’t mind the ugly X-mas Jacket o’ the Day. It already knows it’s ugly. It certainly would be more handsome if it had a few mutts on its print, but it is what it is.
My rotator cuff had more of its prescribed physical therapy early this morning. PT isn’t going well. My PT guy evaluated my progress and said, “I hate to tell you, but…” A shoulder operation is likely, around the end of January. I’ll be religiously going to pointless PT until then, so AETNA will be convinced I need the operation my shoulder doc and physical therapist already know I need. But, ok. Whatever it takes for my insurance to ante up the bucks for the surgical repair bill. Oh, joy.
Roll call of Bow Ties o’ the Day: four sweater designs, but not exactly ugly ones. Ties o’ the Day range from traditionally decorated Christmas trees, to a dabbin’ Santa, to emojis (emojii?) decked out for X-mas amid traditional Christmas icons. My favorite festive emoji is the peppermint pile o’ poop. How could that not be my fave? Admit it. It’s your fave-rave, as well.
Tie o’ the Day is one of my favorite clever ties. Mom is a fanatic about snowmen, as well as funny cleverness, so I thought I’d let her surround snowman Tie. These photos of Mom are from the mid-70’s. And they were taken at two different Christmas’s. It’s nice to see Mom as the recipient of gifts, since she’s always been so overly gifty to everyone else.
In years when Dad’s bees couldn’t find enough bloom to produce enough honey, we were money-less. I never knew it, until I looked back at those years, from my adulthood. Our Christmas’s were never a clue that we were poor. Mom and Dad… er… Santa always found a way to give us kids plenty. And it was usually more than we probably deserved, although I have a belief about kids and Christmas: All kids deserve the world. I don’t mean just stuff, and I don’t mean kids should be spoiled into narcissism. I mean they deserve a universe of love and security and, yes, a gift or two. That’s everything to a kid who’s been raised to have a compassionate heart.
You’d be surprised how many children do not feel loved or secure or hope for their futures. I always felt valued. I look back now at people I grew up with, and I see with mature eyes that more than a handful of them grew up in homes that were places of abuse, poverty, and defeat. A lot of them couldn’t get themselves out of that cycle.
Maybe if I– and my friends– had been able to see it then, we could have helped them rise. I kick myself now for what I didn’t see then. And although we say it’s never too late, life has taught us all that isn’t always true. Sometimes, our compassion can’t change a bloody thing for someone else. They’ve tried. We’ve tried. And it is too late for some people to make a new life. Sometimes a person has no choices. We want to think they do, but in our hearts we know– from where they are now– they don’t have choices.
But we should never cease shooting our compassion and hope their way. Our compassion for others expands our souls. Mostly, it can be a small comfort to those who suffer in lowly situations. Mom and Dad taught me that lesson. Love on, my friends.
Bow Tie o’ the Day brings brass musical instruments for playing Christmas music in regal style. One Tie o’ the Day gives us more holiday balls. Three Ties o’ the Day tell us “Merry Christmas.” Backwards. And the final Tie o’ the Day echoes the grouchy sentiments of Hat o’ the Day. Backwards, both.
The mirrored words are, of course, backwards. I meant to do that. No, really I did. I’m making a point about how my brand new stoopid arm sling has got me doing even more things the wrong way. It is yet another obstacle to movement. I’ve been griping to you about my right shoulder, which has only gotten worse with physical therapy. You’d think that since I’m left handed, my right shoulder wouldn’t keep me from doing basic things– like opening pickle jars or turning a difficult doorknob. The problem is this: The only things I do with my left hand are eat and write. That’s it. So I am basically right-handed, which means I’m mostly right-shouldered. Which means my left hand is not all that automatic about small, normal, everyday tasks. This is my predicament. This is what I’m BAH HUMBUGGING about today. This is what I’m plain ol’ BUGGING y’all about in these posts.
But I think the photos I post of holiday neckwear are still worth taking a gander at, even if you don’t read the accompanying complaining words. I can’t believe we’ll be done with Christmas neckwear posts in just a week. And then Kwanzaa’s coming up. I also still need to write the Hanukkah post I didn’t get to write during Hanukkah, cuz I had a bipolar issue. Apparently, holidays never end– even when they’re over.
One “real” Bow Tie o’ the Day. Six Ties o’ the Day. And this is my Ugly Sweater Vest o’ the Day T-shirt. My lame shoulder and I just returned from a morning of physical therapy, and I couldn’t manage to get my right arm in the this t-shirt. It also makes it difficult for me to type, so I’ll keep this short. I’m off to raid the freezer. I need to ice my shoulder, and I need to eat Popsicles with my working arm while I do it.
