Sunday, July 20, 2014

Friends in Low Places

I'm not big on social graces, think I'll slip on down to the oasis...
Oh, I've got friends in low places...

One time I was in San Antonio with a group of friends. We’d heard about a killer margarita, the specialty of one of the restaurants on the Riverwalk. So the group of us girls, about six in all, decided we’d take a walk down the river to see if we could find the origin of this famous concoction.

The Riverwalk is in downtown San Antonio. It’s a tourist attraction, but not really a river. It’s actually designed for flood control. In 1921 a disastrous flood along the San Antonio River claimed at least 50 lives. The bypass channel was born. An architect named Robert Hugman dreamed up the plans for what eventually became the Riverwalk. Today it’s a mecca of hotels and restaurants, all one level below the street. It’s a winding maze of people and vegetation. There are even ducks, swimming in the murky water.

We walked along until we found what we were looking for. There was no wait and we circled a table, outside, at river’s edge. The waitress brought large baskets of fried tortilla wedges and bowls of spicy, fresh salsa. We watched the people walk by and visited as we snacked and chatted, awaiting our beverages.

Several tables were occupied. Nearby was a romantic couple and in another spot, a family with small children. Another table had a group similar to ours, women together, most likely doing just what we were; enjoying the atmosphere and each other’s company. That’s what we thought anyway.

One of the women stood. Correction; she tried to stand. With a little help from her friends she made it off the chair and staggered inside, one of the others holding her up. The two at the table were left laughing hysterically. To get inside to the restroom two steps needed to be scaled. After a couple of tries the friend got her inside, presumably all the way to the women’s room. After a bit, still supported by the friend, she came back and tried to make her way to her seat. Without the assistance of the other woman she would have slid to the ground. She was smashed.

We watched curiously, to see what happened next. One of the ladies from the table approached the two, while the other stayed seated, still laughing. We thought she had come to help. No. she had her phone out and was taking picture after picture. The poor inebriated lady was cognizant enough to realize what was going on and begged her to stop. They both just laughed at her and said wait until they put the snapshots on Facebook. Finally the trio made their way back to their table where her friends encouraged her to finish the drink she had left. Knowing no better, she continued to sip the poison they fed her.

We shifted our interest back to our visit, paying no attention to the other table. All was going well until one of the girls at our table exclaimed, “Gross. That is disgusting.” Of course we all turned to see what was going on. The intoxicated woman had thrown up all over their table. Did her friends help her? After they laughed and took more pictures.

The group finally got up, dragging their friend, and staggered away. Hopefully they made it to their hotel down the river. The wait staff, young people, seemed to take it in stride. Utensils and dishes were removed from the table. A water hose and mop appeared and disinfectant was sprayed. The table was scrubbed and set up for the next (unsuspecting) guests. It was a routine occurrence we were told.

I was embarrassed for the lady but mostly I felt anger towards her so-called friends. How could they make the entire situation such a joke, laughing at her and taking pictures which probably made it to some form of social media? How could they encourage her, knowing she couldn’t stand alone, to have more alcohol? Those were not friends. They were cruel, uncaring, individuals.

I hope when she was able to function, that she could recall some of the events of the afternoon. I hope she re-evaluates the people she calls friends. I hope she questions their actions and how they reacted when she needed them. Most of all, I hope, if they ask her to go again that she’d have the sense to say no, she was busy. Besides, they weren’t all that much fun.

Well, I guess I was wrong, I just don't belong,
But then, I've been there before...

Speaking of friends, an Internet knitter friend sent me a package the other day. She crocheted (which isn’t the same as knitting but it uses yarn), some really cool coasters! What a nice gesture! Thank you Jo!

A friend is someone you respect and who reciprocates that feeling. It’s someone whose company you enjoy. It’s someone you like to be around. It’s someone who will support you and likes you, even on your bad days. A true friend celebrates your best and would never post stupid pictures of you on social media. Everybody needs a friend. But first you have to be a friend.
These are my friends in high places! Funnest group ever!!
Oh, I've got friends in low places...

Monday, June 2, 2014

You May Be Right

I may be crazy.
But it just may be a lunatic you're looking for...

The story you are about to read is mostly true. Only the names have been changed to protect the guilty.

I wasn’t looking forward to the trip. Two is company and three is a crowd so the odds were stacked against already. But business is business and I can endure anything for a couple of days. It started wrong. I’d waited like I was supposed to, so we could go to the airport. I took a quick bathroom break and Monica was gone. She hadn’t waited. Phoebe was already there and had sent a text saying so. But the routine is for travelers in the building to catch a ride to the airport. Together. It was an omen of what was to come that I didn’t even recognize.
Thankfully the airline had open seating. Because my boarding pass was a little further down the line than the other two there was no chance I’d have to sit with either of them. Farther along in the trip I’d realize I’d meant I didn’t have to sit with any of them because one of the travelers brought company.

The first leg went well. Or maybe the gin and tonic made it seem that way. There was just time for a quick coffee before the next plane. But Monica needed food; chips and dip at the airport restaurant. I went along, sipping my coffee but worried about the time. Monica wasn’t concerned. Finally, desperate, I said I’m going. Monica laughed but settled the check and we all walked out. Spotting the sign above the line I said, girls, they are on the ‘B’ group. They started to run because they had ‘A’ boarding passes. I laughed, but it really wasn’t funny.

Phoebe and I waited for luggage while Monica went to check out the rental car. I grabbed the suitcases and we met at the escalator. It was while waiting for the clerk to bring the car that I first saw. Monica had something on her shoulder. A cartoon picture popped into my head. It was a mad little character with a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other. I looked at Monica and saw the same thing except there was a devil on both sides. Monica held out the keys and one of the devils climbed down and started shaking them. Devil 2 started shouting how people accused Monica of being aggressive and she wasn’t aggressive or pushy so someone else better drive. Phoebe and I stared, dumbfounded, and finally Phoebe took the keys. The devil went back to her shoulder.
The trip to the hotel was actually pleasant. We talked. We made dinner plans. We checked in and suddenly one of the devils climbed down and said I’m going to my room. What time tomorrow? Another coworker was meeting us so I told them I’d text when he got here.

Phoebe and I were headed towards the restaurant when Chandler arrived. We waited while he parked and he walked over with us. After dinner we set out for our rooms. My phone was on silent and I had missed three texts. There was one from Devil 1, one from Monica and another from Devil 2, all demanding a time for meeting in the morning. Already tired of this, I texted back and the arrangements were made.

Early the next day the six of us squeezed into the rental and headed towards the meeting. Customarily, though not required, the group sits together. Monica and her two personalities went to a table with other people present. They sat down while we sat at the table behind. She turned and said she couldn’t have her back to the speaker so she had to sit at another table. D1 and D2 giggled and waved.

I had plans for dinner since the five of them were going to be together. Nobody objected so I went ahead. The next morning we were gathering in the lobby for the last day of the seminar. Monica was already there with her two personalities. I checked out and sat down beside her. D1 came off her shoulder to tell me how they had to walk to a restaurant and eat alone. I was shocked. The others left you? Oh, no. We didn’t want to go with them. Well, I thought, that makes the situation a little different. I didn’t say it but they didn’t have to eat alone. They chose to.

That day we all sat together like we were supposed to. The speaker presented and sometime that afternoon Phoebe got a message from the airline that our plane would be delayed by about three hours. She shared the information with the rest of us and Monica panicked. She and the Ds were afraid we might get stuck and not make it back home. So we left abruptly. Chandler went to his car and Monica was driving us to the airport. I sat in the backseat and was along for the ride at that time. I was fully prepared to wait at the airport because most of the time I have delays anyway. But D1 and D2 had other ideas. They decided we’d drive home. By that time neither Phoebe nor I cared.

We did, however, want to call to make sure everything would be acceptable since we were traveling for business. Monica and her Ds refused. It’s fine they said. We asked about calling the rental agency to tell them we were keeping the car. No need said the Ds. We asked about calling our boss. Again we were told no. That decision was vetoed and Phoebe made the call. After some negotiation it was decided we could drive the six hours home.

Immediately Monica and her Ds stated they were NOT driving all the way. Fine. Let’s just get this over with I thought. I was settled in the back seat when we stopped for gas. After arguing with Monica, she locked the car and we went inside. She handed Phoebe the keys so she thought, because of the prior comment, that Monica was finished driving and got in the driver’s seat when she went outside. I was paying and glanced out the window. I watched as the Ds began moving all of my belongings from the back to the front seat. I didn’t like it. When I went to the car I told them so. Dammit Monica, why did you do that? They teared up. In a shaky, quiet voice she said I don’t think anyone I work with has ever cussed at me. (Really? Maybe not so loud that she heard but I know it’s happened.) The Ds gave me the stink eye. I didn’t apologize and got in the front seat. They pouted.

The whole way home Monica would say something, and if either Phoebe or I disagreed she’d send one of those devils down. The shaky voice would come back, the crocodile tears would appear and the pouting would commence. That would last a while then she’d return to her obnoxious self, the Ds would go back on her shoulders and the cycle would begin again.

It was a tiring ride with lots of pauses in the conversation. Phoebe and I survived but neither of us wants to travel with a group like that for a long, long time!

I might be as crazy as you say.
If I'm crazy then it's true.

I found the lunatic. Right there in the car. You know, people shouldn’t try my patience when I have two long pointed sticks in my hands. Thank goodness for my yarn and needles. I was knitting so I wouldn’t hurt somebody. Now I need the t-shirt!
Sometimes!!

You may be wrong for all I know.
But you may be right.

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Somebody's Knockin'

Should I let him in? 
Lord it's the devil would you look at him… 

A wooden deck makes a distinctive sound when walked upon. If it’s a pitch black night in the mountains, and you’re all alone in a house in a strange neighborhood, it’s kind of scary.

It was spring break a couple of years ago. We’d gone to the mountains to our house there. I was off for the week but not everyone else was, so after the weekend they headed down. I stayed, alone.

The house is in a residential area. Although most of the homes around are vacation homes, a family lives across the road, full time. It’s nice because they keep an eye on things and would be there if I had an emergency.

I was relaxing after a day of exploring downtown, watching re-runs on TV and knitting. Suddenly I heard steps on the deck. These weren’t baby steps. Clomp, clomp, clomp. What? There shouldn’t be anyone coming to see me. I didn’t hear a car. Maybe it’s George from across the street?

I froze in my seat. Who could it be? What should I do? Summoning all my courage I got up and peeked out the window. There was someone, in a shirt, plaid looking, walking in front of the railing on the front deck, in the grass. It was a stealthy walk, lumbering really. My first impression was a hunchback like I’d seen on horror movies as a child.
Things look different in the dark!
My heart in my throat, I decided to turn on all the outside lights so that I could see who this creature was. I was locked safely inside, peeking cautiously from the edge of the curtain. What did I have to lose? I flipped one switch, then the other. I watched from my safe place, trying to decipher the actions of the outside visitor.

Suddenly he reversed directions. Instead of heading to the door he was further out on the lawn. There is an aspen tree in the yard, with a section of wire fence around it to protect it from the wildlife. He backed into the fence and it startled him. Up on his hind feet he stood. The hunchback was a deer!


When we visit the mountain house we usually bring corn and hay for the deer. They wander freely and we enjoy watching them. The extra food entices them to stopover. They linger as they eat and we get to observe and appreciate nature that we don’t usually witness. Apparently this little guy enjoyed the feast so much he wanted the last drop! He’d stuck his head into the sack and it stuck on his antlers. He wasn’t able to get it off and was stumbling blindly around the yard.


I felt bad. Fortunately though, I had seen a video before the others headed down the mountain. It showed how dangerous a deer can be. They rise up on their hind legs when threatened and slash their razor sharp front hooves around, pawing anything within reach. They can maim and kill with their front legs.

Watching futilely, there was nothing I could do to help the innocent creature. He flailed about. I had visions of policemen questioning me as they found a poor young buck with his head in a corn sack, dead, in the road. The S.P.C.A would come on the scene and newscasters would be everywhere with cameras, trying to catch a glimpse of the abuser, me.

He moved forward again, coming up between the house and the gate. He struggled and thrashed and finally got the sack off of his head. He looked up and it was like he saw me watching from the little crack in the curtains. If a deer could smile, he did. Then he took off, gracefully leaping to the driveway and sprinting away. It was our lucky day.

Somebody's knockin' ...
Oh, somebody's knockin'...

It’s so nice in the mountains. This last trip was extremely pleasant. It rained and the temperature was cool. When outside, there was need of a sweater or jacket!

Two of the littles came with us and they explored, hunted snails and played until the were exhausted. 
Umm umm good!
Frogs and snails...
Bryce came up and Alan took the boys to town so we got to explore the thrift shops. That’s our fun thing. I found a vintage set of TV trays in pristine condition. He found some of his beloved Pyrex! I also found a folding dresser mirror. It’s beveled and I like it a lot. The outside is a little scarred but that’s okay. We had a good time.
Fun!
Set of four!!

Folding beveled mirror. Opens like an easel.

It's so nice there. We eat, relax, eat and just enjoy.


Every time I go up it’s that’s much harder to come back down the mountain.

But I do.  At least it rained at the house while we were gone. But needing a sweater? Not at all.

Somebody's knockin', should I let him in?
Lord, it's the devil would you look at him...

Saturday, May 10, 2014

The Candy Man

Who can take a sunrise, sprinkle it with dew… 
Cover it with chocolate and a miracle or two 

Yawn. If I go to bed now I can get a full seven hours of sleep. Or I can play Candy Crush for a few minutes first and still get enough rest. Sweet! Delicious! Oh, Candy Crush, how do I loathe thee? Let me count the ways. Wait, is it how do I love thee? Sometimes. Maybe. Once in a while.
Who hasn’t heard of Candy Crush? Not many I’m sure. If you watch TV or have a computer you’re bound to have seen an advertisement. It’s one of the top games today. Remember when it was a big deal if a song would crossover from the country chart to the rock chart or vice-versa? This is the techno version I guess, but it’s the first ever to be number one on iOS, Android and Facebook, all at the same time! Candy Crush is available and a bit addictive.

There are a few flaws however. It’s obscene to think that I will pay to play their game. They have no idea the patience I have. After all, I’ve just spent a year on level 125, so I can endure any level they throw at me! Maybe not a full year, but if I thought of the things I could have been doing instead of playing this silly game, well, I’d be embarrassed. Thankfully, I only have five lives and they pass quickly. That’s the part that’s supposed to make you spend money. You can buy more lives. Not me. I look at it as a relief. That’s done so now I can go on to something productive.

I’m a Tetris fan from way back. Little falling pieces of color navigated into place to form a solid structure, all while being timed. It was mindless fun for me and I spent many hours, days probably, placing the pieces together to form a block. Maybe it’s hereditary.


My Grandmother played something called Hexed. It was a box of plastic pieces that formed a rectangle when they all went together. She would complete the puzzle, carefully take it out and trace around each piece and keep the recorded solution in a notebook. That’s probably why I like office supplies too!
Pre-historic Tetris!!

When I finally got past level 125 the other day I got to the challenges, completed two in a row and was getting to the third one when I ran out of lives. (“Challenges” is for cheapskates who won’t pay to play the game.) I was doing so well I didn’t want to wait the 24 hours before the next time I could attempt the third challenge so I decided to try a trick. Actually, I decided to cheat. I set the clock on my phone ahead so that it looked like 24 hours had passed. I played, didn’t win and felt guilty for cheating so I set the time back as it was. I went back to Candy Crush and what the heck? Is said something like I had to wait 1400 and some hours to play again. Really? Isn’t that like a couple of months? Desperate, I went to Google to see what I had done wrong. Apparently the CC gurus had figured out the cheat and ‘fixed’ it. The only thing I could do would be to delete and reinstall the game. If that happened it would take me back to, gasp, level one. Or, I could give them money.

I won’t pay. Delete and reinstall? I couldn’t do it! I had to figure out something else! I’d spent too much time to throw all my efforts away. More research said if you back it up to Facebook then you delete and reinstall it saved your history. I don’t play on FB because I never want some abstract random message popping up when I am at work. But I figured I could back it up, delete, reinstall and then delete from FB. It worked. My history was saved! I was still on the last challenge which I quickly conquered.

It’s been said that desperate times call for desperate measures. That’s what happened. There was a contest between me and the game. The game won. It doesn’t know but when I get tired of it I’ll delete it for good. But in the meantime I still have five lives. Gotta go.

Who can take a rainbow, wrap it in a sigh.
Soak it in the sun and make a groovy lemon pie...

A long time ago I had a pattern for a “Knitted Scarf” my friend Debbie gave me. It was a copy of a boutique scarf that was a hot item back then. I made many and even sold them. The yarn cost so much that I sold them at $20.00 each. And nobody batted an eye.

Of course I lost the pattern for years. It’s a simple triangle scarf, and I could figure it out but there were a couple of little things that made the drape better. Then I found it again! I have a bunch of thin novelty yarn that I thought might be perfect so I got out the needles to make some new ones. It’s quick and fun. I like these because they are versatile. They fold up or spread out. They are light and airy. Just right!
An old scarf, red with black fun fur.

A new one. Green rayon yarn.
Orange rayon and ribbon. Squishy!

Just ribbon.
Other than that I’ve been working on quick things. I wound yarn around this heart, just because and will hang it on my deck.



I finished the mohair cape. It’s cute. Even if I didn't like it what a pain it would be to rip out! I think it would be good over a tank top or in a chilly office.
Cowl, capelet/poncho, skirt??

I’d get a lot more done if I’d keep my hands on the needles and off Candy Crush!! Believe it or not there are some patterns for Candy Crush items out there. Hmmm....

The Candy Man can 'cause he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good!

Sunday, April 13, 2014

Don't Ask Me No Questions

And I won't tell you no lies… 

I ran across something the other day that said we live in a culture of Tell. I know most people just expect but I’d never really thought about it like that. It went on to say that telling puts the other person down. It’s supposed to be a sociological thing.

Personally, I have never liked people telling me what to do. That’s not to say that I won’t do something when I’m told (by my mother or someone like my boss) but I don’t have to like it. If I’m asked to do something, however, the chances improve considerably. It makes all the difference in the world.

After looking up synonyms of “tell someone what to do” I found the list surprising. Words like order, command, and dictate came up. Phrases included “to say that something should be done, in a way that shows you have authority”, “to tell someone exactly what to do and how to behave”, and “to keep telling someone what to do in an unfair and unpleasant way”. Doesn’t that make you want to rush out and do whatever someone TELLS you to do? Ask and you might receive!

It doesn't hurt to ask...
Asking questions however, is another story. My mother says, “Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies.” She especially likes to repeat this when we pester about what Christmas gifts were under the tree or anything else that involved her not wanting us to know! Even though I would rather be asked than told I don’t particularly enjoy being questioned. If I want to share information I will. If I don’t there is no point in asking. I especially dislike those soul searching questions; “What are your strengths?” I freeze. I can’t think. I don’t have any. It’s not really any of your business. When forced I’ll think of something. Pressured, I’ll speak. The tepid reception seals it and I vow never again.


Ask isn’t always nice. Callye was the first class in our town, of pre-kindergartners. It was open to anyone so we had to decide whether to send our tiny four year old to ‘school’ or risk her starting out behind because everyone else was sending their babies. She came home the first day and I asked her, “How was school?” “I don’t know,” she replied. “Why not? Didn’t you have fun?” Her little face clouded up, she frowned and in a teary voice said, “Cameron called me a dumb-ask”. I guess that would put a damper on your day!

Then there are the people who are constantly seeking your opinion on something or other yet always doing the opposite of what you tell them. Why even bother? These people are called askholes. (I wish I had coined this term myself but it’s from the Urban Dictionary). How about the brutally honest? We all know those who feel “don’t ask if you don’t want to know” is the best policy. Alas, it’s not always a pleasant experience.

Generally, it’s usually better to ask if you want something done. Just try a kid at bedtime. They will run any errand for you! Beware the empty questions and remember; only a true friend will ask you how you are and actually wait to hear the answer.

Well, I appreciate your feelings and I don't want to pass you by.
But I don't ask you about your business, don't ask me about mine...

Next time someone says “How are you today?” or maybe “How have you been?” Try saying something nonsensical. It most likely won’t even be noticed. The ‘asker’ will continue on, probably responding with, “That’s nice” or some other such phrase. And you can laugh because you’ll see what I said is true!

If I could, I’d stay home all day and knit. Or crochet. Or anything. I don’t want to get out of the house but I don’t want to be productive when I’m home. Well, productive in the ways I need to be that is. I guess it’s a funk and it will soon pass. Hopefully sooner than later.

I spent (wasted) a lot of time knitting on a Lace Capelet and was close to the end when I decided I wasn’t going to have enough yarn to finish. I don’t know why I didn’t just bind off and make a pretty cowl…but I didn’t. I ripped it all out and started again with another mohair yarn. I didn't even take a picture. Mohair is not fun. If you mess up you might as well just toss it.
Airy...but will it be cool enough?

There's a tiny thread that shines woven throughout this yarn.

But I persevered and even after ripping back a couple of times on this new project am on the way to the finish. I don’t know if it will even be wearable as hot as it is here. It’s something easy though, and hopefully it will knit me out of this mood! I’ll let you know…don’t ask.

But when I come off the road, well I just got to have my time 
'Cause I got to find a break in this action, else I'm gonna lose my mind.
So, don't ask me no questions...
And I won't tell you no lies.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Making a Memory

You and me 
We should be 
Making a memory whenever we're together, yeah… 

Well, it’s the end of spring break here. Oh yeah, and daylight savings time started. Woo hoo! I’m kidding. I dislike daylight savings time. A lot.

Truth is it kicks my butt. It doesn’t matter if it’s spring forward or fall back. It makes me tired. I don’t ever seem to get that extra hour of sleep the news talks about. And in the spring, when it’s not dark until 8:00 or 9:00 o’clock, I tend to stay up late. Then when it’s time to get up, it’s pitch black and I just want to stay in bed. Add the time change and the Littles together and there wasn’t much rest!

This is the first time that all three have come to stay for more than a day or two. I didn’t think it would last long but it was the whole week. And it was fun!

We didn’t go out much; to the park one day, to the grocery store another. Evan went with his cousin a couple of times and he came here but otherwise they just played together.
Ouch! Bike wreck.

My kids, their mother and uncles, loved to go outside and play on the ‘mountain’. They enjoy it just as much. They find crystals, or fossils or flowers or cactus. I’ve told them over and over to stay away from the cactus. This time for some reason, Caleb had a really strong curiosity about the cactus. He and Belle came in a couple of times with the tiny needles in their hands. One time the two of them came in and Caleb said he had needles in his tongue. I told them to go in the bathroom and I would be there in a minute. The next thing I know Caleb is throwing up. Belle had tried to help get the needles out of his tongue, gagging him until he puked! I found out that their other grandpa was eating cactus. Napolitos are the edible paddles of the prickly pear cactus. I got them a jar of pickled ones at the grocery store and no more curiosity!

I fixed them their favorite things to eat. One day we had tiny little pancakes for breakfast. Many tiny little pancakes! We had pigs and blankets, steak dogs, and cinnamon rolls. I made French toast one day and sliced it into fourths. I put it on the plate in a square with a little cup of syrup in the middle. Then I sprinkled powdered sugar over the whole thing. Evan came to the table and said, "Mamye, you always do things so fancy!" It really wasn’t but it made me happy that he thought so.
A happy note!

One of the funniest things was when I made spaghetti for them. They were downstairs watching a movie. I put the spaghetti in bowls and cut it up so it was easier for them to eat. I mixed up some grape Cool Aid and put it in wine goblets then sat it all out on the table. The only thing I forgot was the camera to capture their reactions!

They got to the table and their little mouths literally dropped open! In hushed voices they were saying things like, “She’s giving us wine.” “You try it.” “No, I’m not trying it!” Finally one of them was brave enough to taste.  "It’s just Cool Aid!!” I wonder why they would have even thought that I’d give them wine!?

Sleeping was an adventure for sure. Alan and Junior just moved to another room. Then the rest of us  climbed into the king size bed. The hard thing about sleeping with them is that they all want to be beside me. That’s fine if we take turns but that doesn't happen. Close is what they want to do; all at the same time! I need to be on the outside or I get claustrophobic. I might have started out on the outside but sometime in the night, besides Belle the human magnet, a little boy would be on the other side of me. Then another might be at my feet. Instead of everyone being at the head of the bed like we started, I might wake up to a set of feet on the pillow. Sometimes even two! It was fun but there wasn’t a lot of rest going on. Around midnight I’d finally get everyone settled in. If I was lucky we’d sleep in til around 10:00. And if I was really lucky I could get up and have a cup of coffee and they’d stay asleep a little longer!
It works...if I don't move!

It was a fun week for me and with any luck for them as well. I hope they remember the fun and look back at the time as the week we made memories. And I look forward to making more.

Look at me 
Can't you see? 
We were meant to be. 
Making a memory… 

I’ve been on a crochet kick, making many half double crochet Mobius scarves. No reason. They are quick, fun and the yarn has been colorful. They will make good gifts I suppose.
Three of the cowls.

I also went to a bracelet workshop to learn to do a heart in the kumihimo. It was fun and quick too.
Kumihimo. Can you see the hearts?

Then I tried an experiment with a straight chain closed with a button. It’s kind of cute and summery. I don’t like how I attached the button but I can work on that.
Long chain with big button closure.

While the kids were here they wanted to make crafts. Well, Belle did. Next time I’ll have some little projects she can work on.

We should be 
Making a memory whenever we're together, yeah…

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

King of Nothing

When I was 17, I dreamed of being king. And having everything I wanted. 

How about Queen? It’s still of nothing. Normally it doesn’t bother me that I’m just a worker-bee. After all, what would all the Kings get done if it weren’t for the worker-bees? Probably not much. Their job isn’t to do the work. It’s to get the credit. Have they earned that status? Some, yes. Most, no.
 
There is definitely a hierarchy where I work. And when you are at the bottom you are reminded, continuously. It may not be overtly, but it is definitely in a most nebulous fashion. Take today for instance. We were told we had visitors in the building and if they came by your area to please help welcome them.

I had been working on a large project most of the morning. I stepped out to warm my cold coconut coffee, (you don’t waste those little K-Cup things), and said hello to a fellow worker. We had just completed a joint project and we caught up on that, then drifted to some chit chat. I was preparing to return to my office when the tour came through the hall and stopped at a poster hanging in her window. The guide said, “let me introduce you to a very important person here, the coordinator of a notable state project.” She dutifully stepped into the hall. I dutifully stepped further into her office, out of the way.

At the end of an animated conversation with the group the guide prepared to move them along. She turned and said, “Don’t you need to introduce Jamye?” He hesitated and said, “Oh, yes, this is Jamye. She’s in charge of CTE. She’s in that office over there.” He pointed in the general direction and I spoke to the group and explained that CTE means Career and Technical Education. That was it. I was dismissed as they moved along.

Did I do this to myself by moving further into her office? Or am I conditioned to know my place? If she hadn’t spoken up I would have been completely ignored. Should I have rushed out with her and told them that what I do, even though I am Queen of Nothing, is just as important? I don’t know.

Why is it that someone who has a title thinks it’s unimportant for another to have one as well? I was reminded of a conversation with my then boss, years ago. I had to sign forms in the blank with a title even though I didn't hold that title. He said a title meant nothing. It was the quality of the work, etc., not a title that defines a person. Titles are unimportant. I, apparently in my smart *ss mode, asked, so instead of superintendent would it be okay to call you custodian? Interestingly enough, the story changed and a title suddenly meant something!

In the grand scheme of things, I suppose it doesn’t really matter. I could pass that group in the hall and they wouldn’t know who I was. I will most likely never see any of them again. If I did, I’d have to introduce myself or be introduced again because none of them said their names. And in reality I have a title. I have lots of titles; Mom, Mamye, friend, daughter, wife, sister. They are all cherished. They also mean much more than a work title.

As my friend Lynn told me; your value doesn't decrease, because of someone’s inability to see your worth. Thank you Lynn. I’ve got to stop wearing my feelings on my sleeve!

But that was long ago and my dreams did not unfold, so I'm still the King of Nothing. 

We finally had our last Christmas this weekend. The littles came over. We ate and visited and opened presents then ate some more! It was a good time for all. There were a lot of presents and a birthday too! Evan turned 10. Seems impossible.
Christmas prime rib. Yummy!
Presents and cousins. Belle was hiding!
The first grandchild is already ten years old!

Caleb asked me to make him a scarf. He wanted green and blue with hot pink on the ends. I had some bright colored green, blue and yellow yarn and he thought that might work! He liked it. It’s always good when someone appreciates your efforts!

Smashing! Handsome little dude, huh!
If I could rule, I'd dance my cares away, find romance everyday. 
I wouldn't have to listen to this poor fool say, "I'm the King, I'm the King, I'm the King of Nothing."