Human Fly

I'm a human fly and I don't know why… 

I watched an old movie on television the other day. It’s a horror film called “The Fly”. There’s been a remake, but this was the original, sometime in 1958. It’s about a scientist, who when conducting an experiment, mutates into a grotesque, part human part fly, after the insect accidentally gets into the transporting machine, mixing their atoms. The scientist’s wife ends up helping him destroy the creature he’d become and is charged with murder and declared ‘crazy’.

I’ve seen this film many times. In fact, the little fly at the end with the human head, crying in a squeaky voice, “Help meeee. Help meeeeee!” was the source of many giggles shared between my dad and I. Warped maybe, but funny, nonetheless.

Today, though, when I watched the movie I saw something different that I hadn’t thought of before. The wife explained, in detail, the reasons for her actions. It was a strange and incredible story, and it was the truth. But the police inspector, without benefit of doubt, proclaimed her guilty and insane, just the same.

Unfortunately this seems to be a common occurrence. A true story can sound unbelievable. If it is out of the ordinary and/or not what the listener wants to hear, the judge, jury and sentence occur, all without the benefit of a trial. It makes sense that people would not want to share the truth if the consequences are worse than if they make up an explanation to please the listener.

I don’t mean it’s right to lie. I detest liars and if there’s one thing I don’t do it’s lie. To be honest though, I do tell little lies, which I suppose makes me a hypocrite. But those are usually to spare someone’s feelings: “Does my butt make these pants look big?” “No, you look great!” That’s not to rationalize my behavior. Sometimes you just have to choose which ditch you want to die in.

The story in the movie had a somewhat happy ending. The scientist’s son rushes in to say he’s found the odd looking fly, the fly with a white head. The inspector and the scientist’s brother rush out to find the fly with the scientist’s head and arm, stuck in a web with a large spider quickly approaching. The terrified fly screams “Help meeeee! Help meeee!” (I’m laughing again here.) Just as the fly is about to be eaten by the spider, the inspector smashes them both with a rock. Thinking nobody would believe such a story, the inspector and the brother concoct a lie about the details and the wife isn’t convicted of murder.

Help meeeeee! Ha ha ha

Too bad we didn’t know about DNA. That could have saved the truth being covered by a lie. I suppose then they wouldn’t have had a plot for the movie. At the last scene the wife and the brother are explaining to the son why the scientist died. He died doing the most dangerous act for humanity, but also the most beneficial: "the search for the truth".

I don’t know why people choose to lie. The truth is best even when it’s not pleasant. Everyone has their own reasons for not telling the truth. And everyone has their own reasons for not believing the truth. And life goes on.

I say buzz, buzz, buzz and it's just becuzz 

We got new to us furniture for the place in Ruidoso. It looked nice but something was missing. I decided we needed pillows on the couches. So through Amazon, I found a bargain...or so I thought!

They had throw pillows for only $3.50 each! I glanced through the designs and picked some I wanted. When they got here I was disappointed. I read it wrong. They were pillow covers, not pillows!

I had an idea that I thought might work. I thought if I took an inexpensive bed pillow and cut it in half, then sewed up the side it would fit. My daughter in law, Jenn, had just the pillows I needed! She cut and sewed them and they were perfect for the new pillow covers!

I’m knitting a cover to recycle another pillow I had laying around. It’s gray, in a thick yarn, so should be finished soon.

Well I'm a human fly it's spelt F L Y

Is There Life Out There…

So much she hasn't done.

Is there life beyond

Her family and her home?

“Wait”, she said. “Don’t forget your backpack!” He smiled and she blew him a kiss as he ran out the door. Then she put away the milk and cereal and cleared the three bowls from the table. She glanced at the clock. If she timed it right she’d be able to drop by Starbucks for a latte, and add a few rows to the sweater she was knitting, before work. It was her only luxury.

She sat at the table and took out her knitting. She was working on a sweater for her baby girl. It was several shades of pink, all in one yarn. Variegated they call it. She liked it because it was called “Pretty ‘N’ Pink”, like a movie she’d seen long ago. Pink is Baby Girl’s favorite color.

As she added each stitch she thought about how much her life had changed. After she’d married she’d quickly found out there wasn’t a lot to offer in a small town. She’d never really felt welcome there. She was included, at first, because she was new and it was the polite thing to do. After the new wore off the invitations quit coming. She didn’t really mind because she felt uncomfortable anyway.

When her oldest was born she’d had some company. He was an early talker and they spent many hours in semi-one-sided conversations. He asked a lot of questions and said things that made her laugh. When number two was born it was a little harder. She was a stay at home mom and money was tight. But things were good and she enjoyed her life.

Baby girl was a bit of a surprise. She was welcomed, nevertheless, but it was even harder with three babies. She would have liked to help with money but the daycare alone would have taken her whole paycheck. So she did what she could to make a good home.

She’s not quite sure when the lies started. Looking back she wonders if things were always that way and she was too busy to notice. There were sometimes explanations that didn’t make sense, but she was taking care of the kids and the house and didn’t have time to ponder. Slowly she realized things weren’t quite as they seemed. It wasn’t adding up. She tried but it was a one-sided effort. It was too little, too late and he was gone. All her dreams were gone, with him.

She looks down to check the tension of her stitches and thinks she needs to leave after she finishes this row. She got a job in a secretarial pool. It’s minimum wage but she was told she could work her way up to another position that might pay more. It keeps food on the table. He sends a check each month. It’s not because he wants to. He has to. He’s doing well with the younger, thinner, better; her replacement. Someone he always said was just a ‘friend’. She counts her blessings. She makes ends meet and tries not to be bitter. And she wonders, as she heads to the office, is there life out there?

She's done what she should.

Should she do what she dares?

She doesn't want to leave,

She's just wondering…

Is there life out there?

Knitayear is on the downside. Just a little over two months more! Day 297, January 22 was my Saturday to work. I don’t mind but it’s hard when I have Friday off. And it messes up the weekend. But I was content to go. My intern is a nice kid and he likes what he’s doing. We went to lunch and he bought. I didn’t want him to but he wouldn’t hear of it. I’ll treat him next time. I chose the blue from the Gap-tastic cowl. I really like that yarn. Day 298, January 23, and I’m sick again. Or maybe I never got over it completely. I think it’s the trip from last week and maybe after I get the cedar out of my system I’ll be okay. I drank Theraflu and it’s my new wonder drug. I didn’t feel nearly as groggy the next day as I do with Nyquil. I chose a green fuzzy yarn. It’s because of the cold. But that’s gross so I’ll stop now. Ha ha. January 24, day 299 and Alan is sick now. He was feeling so bad he stayed home. That’s something right there. I worked with the doctors so got home a little earlier than normal. I was in a caring mood. But all Alan wanted to do was sleep so I didn’t do too much! I chose a blue eyelash yarn. Day 300, January 25, is Tuesday and a busy day at work. I was industrious, though and got a lot done. I chose thick maroon yarn for the day. Day 301, January 26, and I’m just tired. I think this cold or whatever it is, hasn’t run its course. I don’t know. Anyway, I picked a thick and thin pink yarn. It kind of symbolized the feeling good on and off. I’m ready to feel better and get some energy back. I know I need it ‘cause I’m pretty sure there is life out there. I just need to find it.

Bryce's scarf. Linen stitch in two yarns. Back and front sides.

There's a place in the sun that she's never been.

Where life is fair and time is a friend.

Would she do it the same as she did back then?

She looks out the window and wonders again…

Hey White Liar

The truth comes out a little at a time…

If you say you've never lied, you're probably, well, lying. Nobody wants to admit they lie. But I’ve come to the conclusion that everyone lies. How can we not? Most of us are brought up with lies. Think about the tooth fairy, the Easter Bunny and even Santa Clause. Are those stories we hear, most of the time from a very young age, considered lies? In reality, it is probably so. But often we consider lies like these myths or traditions. Why? Is this for our benefit? To make us feel better?


In the UK, a paper towel company who created a commercial with a dad telling his son the paper towels had thousands of tiny elephants in the paper to slurp up the water, did some research on parents telling white lies to their children. The results were as follows:

• 75% of parents have told a white lie to their children
• 90% tell a white lie to protect their child's innocence
• 44% tell a white lie because they don't know the answer
• 40% have told a white lie in the last month
• Tooth fairy most popular white lie (86%) with Santa Clause, (85%), a close second

(Source: Lotus Thirst pockets (ICM Omnibus))

A research psychologist, Dr. Aric Sigman, then analyzed the findings. According to Dr. Sigman, white lies are half truths, embellishments or outright myths that parents use to explain answers to difficult questions. He says the research proves that parents tell white lies with good intention. Parents tell white lies to protect the child’s innocence and to stimulate their imagination. Some tell white lies because the answer to a question is too complicated and many because they don’t know the answer themselves. That’s all well and good but when does it stop? What about the lies adults tell to each other?

The definition of lie is:

1. to make an untrue statement with intent to deceive
2. to create a false or misleading impression

We are lied to daily by the news, media and commercials. We hear opinions voiced as the truth. We are just being told what we are wanted to hear. Everyone has the right to an opinion. But it does not make it the truth. Yet so many people think this is the case.

Not all lies are malicious. Many are told to make it easier for people to get along. That kind of lie is fairly harmless. I’m talking about telling someone that you like their dress when in reality you don’t. If telling the whole truth hurts someone and makes them feel bad about themselves, it might be better to pad the truth. Brutal honesty can be cruel and sometimes used as a toxic weapon. It’s become socially acceptable to not tell the whole truth if it hurts someone’s feelings.


We tell lies for all sorts of reasons. Maybe we want to get something, like a reward or a raise. Or maybe we are trying to protect someone, a family member, a friend or a lover. We tell lies without even thinking. It varies from exaggerating stories, to leaving details out, to wearing a wig or false eyelashes. We ask "How are you?" when we don't really care. We lie to ourselves about how much we eat, how often we exercise and how much time we spend doing various activities. We rationalize the reasons for it to be okay. Maybe we should revise the word ‘rationalize’ to be ‘rationa-lies’.


A friend of mine one time said the main difference between a white lie and a real lie is that a real lie is told to protect you, while a white lie is told to protect someone else. That’s something to think about. Lying is not in the words, or lack of words; it's in the intention of the deceiver. Regardless, it's still a lie.

And it spreads just like a fire,
Slips off of your tongue like turpentine.
And I don't know why, white liar…

Knitayear is still going strong. I am enjoying this project. Day 102, July 11, I was a bit apprehensive. I always get this way before big presentation and/or before seeing and being with a group of friends I love. I chose a brown yarn with a sparkle in it. Brown for the apprehensive feeling and the sparkle because I know it’s going to be good after I get there. July 12, was a comfortable day. I knew it would be. The presentation went well and my buds were happy we were all together to visit. I chose an aqua/blue variegated yarn. The aqua is one of my favorite colors. It makes me feel comfortable to have that color around. I woke up on day 104, July 13, with a nervous feeling. I kept feeling like there was something going on but couldn’t quite put my finger on it. All turned out okay and in fact it was a fun day with one of our friend’s bands playing. We laughed and had a good time. But there was still this feeling. I chose a fuzzy gold yarn with black and white dots throughout. I thought the texture described the background feeling I was having but the black and white was the reality. July 14, day 105 was a reserved day. I went to meetings and watched and learned. If you stay quiet and pay attention you can see and hear a lot of things. I chose a pale variegated ribbon. It’s strong but the colors are subtle, in the background, not popping up front. July 15 was the flight back home to reality. I picked a variegated blue/purple yarn. It’s always sad to leave and I always drift into a melancholy mood. On the bright side though, we went to Seminole and got to see the little guys. That’s always a pleasant experience. Also, my sister and my nephew were there. He got the luck of the draw and won the first leave from Afghanistan. It was so good to see him. They came home with us and spent the night. July 16, day 107 was a visit with my sister and nephew before they went on to El Paso then back to Albuquerque. It was a happy morning. I chose a pink/green camo yarn. It reminded me of my sister and my nephew as he has to go back to Afghanistan. The pink was for her, a mother’s love. The camo, green and brown, was for him, our Army soldier. And I’m thinking about the things people say, for themselves and for and to others. And I know. And I’ll ‘rationa-lies’ and try to be kinder than necessary, because everyone is fighting some kind of battle.

Here's a bombshell just for you.
Turns out I've been lying too…