Old Ties

I used to love to wear ties, so I would wear suits to profess.  Not many women did, but if I wanted to wear a tie, there wasn’t much choice.  I had a lot of ties.  Bob gave me some of his old ties–the stripes, dots, and stuff like that.  I bought light blue ties covered in flowers and other “female flighty” sorts of ties.  But my absolute favorite tie was my Sylvester tie, given to me by my dear sister.

I did actually wear my Sylvie when I taught, on occasion, when the subject matter needed a bit of livening.  But not often, as I did want to be taken seriously, after all.

Once I retired from the podium, I gave away my suits and then I gave away most of my ties.  But not Sylvester.  It still hangs from its hook on my wall (mostly decorative nowadays), but every once in a long while, I cannot help myself, and on goes the tie.  It actually works well with jeans and t-shirts, no suit required.  When I walk out wearing Sylvie, I cannot help but put on a happy smile and walk with a jaunty step.  Feeling young, carefree, and all that.  If I knew how to tap dance, I’d be dancing.  It’s that good.

So, here he is, my wonderful Sylvester.  (Do you think I would play better golf if I wore him on the course?!)  Thank you, sis.

Sylvie Tie



Remembering Time

I remember being young.  Yesterday, it was.

Everything mattered, yet nothing at all mattered.

We could/would change the world–when we thought about the world at all.

There was lots of time.  We could say “later, man”.

I remember being young and carefree, yesterday.


Want to write, but cannot think of a thing to say.  So I am humming right along.  Turning around, looking ahead and sideways, but never behind.  Too smoky to see meteors.    So, sleep well.  Try again tomorrow.