Remain Nameless

I wish to remain nameless 
And live without shame… 

I once had a discussion with a former supervisor. I had received a promotion of sorts and I asked what my title was. I was told I didn’t need a title. Surprised, I asked why. He said titles don’t mean a thing. When one did a good job people recognized that and titles weren’t needed. So I asked if I could call him Head Custodian instead of Superintendent. That’s when I found out that a title did indeed mean something!

In the end I got my title. It was some long, wordy, nonsensical jargon that was created in retaliation for my comment. (Do bosses retaliate? That could be another post for sure!) Anyway, when I was asked or wrote it down it was laughable. It couldn’t fit it into my elevator speech! An explanation was always needed for clarity.

As most people do, I changed jobs. According to statistics, these days people change jobs on the average, 11 times in a lifetime. I haven’t. In fact, I wasn’t expected to ever leave the one I had. But it was time. Departure also meant losing my trumped up title.

I realized quickly the new employment was a dead end position. That’s not to say it’s a bad job or that I have no ambition. The structure dictated the rules. There was one head honcho, one number two honcho and about five regular honchos. Then there were the worker bees. I was a worker bee.

I’m still a worker bee, and I do have a title along with all the other worker bees; the same one in fact. This title is short and means about the same as the fabricated title of yore; absolutely nothing. It fails to describe what I do for the company which is what I thought was the purpose of a title. In fact, couldn’t a clear job title describe a person's expertise with greater specificity, therefore explaining that person's role more clearly? Alas, it’s not to be.

Enter new management. New leaders bring change. The structure is basically the same but suddenly there are assistant regular honchos. How does one become an assistant regular honcho one might ask? Good question. The job posting/interview process is followed but it’s quite easy to spot the recipient. And if there are two favored recipients they become co-assistant regular honchos. They get titles like Co-Assistant Honcho of Creating Tasks or Assistant Honcho of Browning the Nose. Do I sound envious? Believe me. I’m not!

Lately there’s been the novel idea that it would be useful for everyone to know everyone else’s specialty in the organization. Could that not be accomplished with job titles that actually mean something? Maybe I should make a suggestion to the Assistant Honcho of Contemplation.

You can call me anything you want.
You can call us what you want.

If you’ve seen any news about America at all you know it’s been a tough week. First the senseless bombing in Boston then the tragedy of the fertilizer plant blowing up most of the small town of West, Texas. It’s stressful, even for spectators who aren't directly involved but view helplessly, the endless pictures on social media or listen to the newscaster offering ceaseless updates on situations that aren’t improving. Even if you’re far from the location you can’t help but feel the sadness and devastation of all those affected. And I knit.

This doesn't capture the bright orange color. Montego Bay Scarf.

There’s also some good. Like Mr. Rogers says, look for the good. People are being kind and generous to one another and helping each other to get through the turbulence. It makes me wonder why it can’t always be that way, just treating people as you’d like to be treated.

Cause what's in a name, 
Oh I still remain the same...

Magical Mystery Tour

Roll up, roll up for the magical mystery tour, step right this way... 

Monday afternoon, and it’s destination Amsterdam. My oldest son, Bryce, is graduating with his master’s degree in geophysical engineering. He’s been in a two year program over there, The Netherlands, Switzerland and Germany. When he departed we had plans to go see him. Life happens and plans change and now it is the end of his journey there and we are just now going to visit. But at least we are able to go!

The holiday won’t be as long as we would have liked. In fact, it’s going to be a whirlwind trip! But fun, it will be! We’re renting a car to drive around and do whatever we want, when we want. We’ll fill every minute with an experience to remember.

There’s not really a plan. It would be more like an outline if anything. We arrive 28 August (how do you like my European style?) early morning in Amsterdam. From there, by car, we’ll go to Hamburg. We could go by train but he’s offered to drive. That way, we can stop anywhere along the way as the urge strikes. Admittedly the train would be an adventure so hopefully we’ll get that chance too. He resides in Hamburg so with any luck we’ll stay at his place and not have to sleep in the car! (I’m joking but as a mother it is my duty to worry about such things.) 29 August we’ll hang out in Hamburg, maybe have a hamburger, and explore. (I don’t know if they even have hamburgers. But it sounded good.)

30 August we’re going from Hamburg to Delft. It’s probably six or seven hours of driving between the two. That’s nothing because where we live out here in West Texas it’s that far to anywhere! And think of the sights along the way!

31 August is graduation day in Delft! How exciting! It’s a celebration of all his hard work. The ceremony will be held in the morning. The rest of the day will be spent discovering Delft. 1 September, we’ll continue in Delft, head to Rotterdam, and sightsee in Den Haag. 2 September we’ll go from Delft back to Amsterdam and spend the rest of the day Amsterdamming! (That’s Bryce’s word and I know it will be an adventure!)

If those are our seats we're close to the bathroom at least.

All too soon, it’s going to be 3 September and we’ll get on the plane for the 10 hour flight back to the states. I have a feeling there may be sleeping involved! Too soon, life returns to normal. Well, as normal as it gets anyway! It will be back to work with all the daily drama and problems that entails. Bryce isn’t flying back with us. He has to wrap up some loose ends and will come back a week or so later.

I’m excited and getting more anxious by the minute! I better go pack soon because I know I’ll end up forgetting something important. Before I know it the magic will begin!

The magical mystery tour is coming to take you away... 

My sweet son is looking to see where yarn shops are when we are on our trip. Not too many boys would think of that! But he knows me well. I did have to think about what to bring and wonder whether the nice people at the airport will want to keep my good knitting needles or not. I don’t think there’s a problem leaving from here. It’s coming back I’m worried about! Who knows? I might not even have time to knit. But sitting in planes, trains and automobiles makes me want to keep my hands busy, so I’ll be ready, just in case.

I finished the surprise for the scarf swap I’ve been working on. It will be in the mail before I leave, heading to some (lucky?) recipient who says she likes red!

I haven’t received mine yet so I have something to look forward to when I return.

I am ready for a vacation, however short it will be. Now do I have my passport? ;)

Roll up GOT EVERYTHING YOU NEED, roll up for the mystery tour...

Ben

Ben, you're always running here and there. 

You feel you're not wanted anywhere. 

If you ever look behind and don't like what you find, 

There's something you should know, you've got a place to go… 

I didn’t know being terrified of rodents had a name. I just thought it was one of those weird things that make me who I am. But I found out I have a specific phobia. I wonder if it’s different then a general phobia because I’m only afraid of rodents? I don’t know. But it’s called musophobia and it’s very common. It just means fear of mice and rats. But now I know I’m one of millions with the same affliction. Does it make me feel better? Not really.

“Eek! A mouse!” Yes, I actually said that. Years ago we lived in a yucky house. It was early in the morning and I was fixing Alan’s lunch while he got ready for work. I was slicing a tomato and had a big knife in my hand. Suddenly there was a streak across the counter right in front of me. I screamed and almost cut my fingers off! As Mr. Jinks, the cartoon cat would say, "I hate those meeces to pieces!"

Mr. Jinks, cat fiend to Pixie and Dixie.

Did you know Ben, in this song, is a rat? And he wasn’t a nice rat at that. I’m not sure there is such a thing as a nice rat. Rats, hamsters, mice…none of them are cute to me. I do not like them. Not at all! They are vermin, nasty creatures in my mind. Now if you do like rodents, that’s perfectly fine. But I don’t. They creep me out completely. We live in the country and have for about 20+ years, so occasionally we get a mouse in the house. Once I see signs of one, that’s it. I can no longer go in that particular room by myself. I’m not necessarily frozen in fear because I can still run pretty quickly! But I’m plenty scared.

Yuck.

At the same yucky house there was another mouse. My husband set the trap and went off to work. I was there with a three year old and a newborn. I was thinking about what we could have for lunch when suddenly there was a click and a mouse in the trap ran out from under the table. It circled around two or three times and stopped, right there in the middle of the floor. OMG!! What was I going to do!? I could not even look at it much less get close enough to try to sweep it up into a dust pan or something like that. I couldn’t do a thing. As I was wondering if having a three year old pick it up and throw it outside would constitute child abuse a friend dropped by. I asked her if she could take it away. She went over, picked up the trap with her bare hand, looked at me and threw it out the door. I was horrified and relieved, all at the same time.

I could tell you many more mouse stories. Some involve screaming, some running and some, even climbing! Just a couple of weeks ago I saw signs of an unwanted visitor. I Cloroxed the counter and my husband set out traps. I hoped I didn’t have to go in the kitchen at night. But I had a plan. If I needed something, I would turn the light on and off and make some noise. Then I’d tiptoe in and scan the traps. If all was clear I’d hurry to get what I needed and then rush out. Whew…safe!

A few days pass and there’s no sign of a mouse. I’m suspicious and just know it’s crouching in a drawer or cabinet waiting to jump on me when I open it up. I ask my husband and he said maybe it ran off. Sure, I think. It just ran out the door. I open the bottom drawer to get something and reach in. It’s sitting halfway in a plastic grocery bag. I pause because I see a dark spot in the bag. I look closer and it has ears. OMG again! It’s in the sack! But it’s not moving. I run out just as Alan is coming in and tell him I think I found the mouse. He looks, and sure enough I had. The poor thing must have suffocated. He took care of it as I cursed it for scaring me yet again.

I read somewhere once that a mouse is an animal which strews its path with fainting women. In my case that’s true. If I had touched that mouse in the drawer I most likely would have had a heart attack or at the least, passed out! Creepy, yucky, nasty creatures they are. For now I’m safe. But as long as there are mice I don’t think I can ever live alone. For sure not in the country! And I’ll never have a friend like Ben.

Ben, most people would turn you away, 

I don't listen to a word they say. 

They don't see you as I do I wish they would try to… 

I finished the fuzzy orange shawl. It’s not bad, and just the right size. I’ll have to watch because what I wear it with because it sheds. The label said the color was strawberry. Still looks orange to me!

I also decided to complete a UFO! I have a bad case of finishing the knitting but not weaving in the ends, sewing the seams, etc. So I picked one (of many unfortunately) and wove the ends in. It’s the Montego Bay scarf and I love it! I don’t think I was able to get the Sea Silk at the time but I got something yummy and soft. I just forgot what it was!

See other creative projects at http://ourcreativespaces.blogspot.com.

I finished another book. This one was one of Maggie Sefton’s knitting mysteries. It’s number 7 in the series and called Dropped Dead Stitch. I like her books but they are pretty predictable. I’d like to do a readability test on one sometime because I’m curious. Supposedly the average newspaper is written at a 9th grade level so maybe it’s right on target. Anyway Kelly and company are helping with the fiber part of a women’s retreat when they find the owner of the ranch is a man who attacked one of the gang. Of course he meets an untimely end and guess who they think did it. I do enjoy the stories, I guess because they are no brainers and quick to read.

Next up...something pink!

A work friend and I trade books so there’s no telling what I end up with except for the fact we like the same kind; simple, easy to read mysteries. It’s fun though, and I have read some I never would have looked at if I was buying.

New reads. See what else to read here!

Maybe that’s what I can do when I retire. I could author a series about a stinking mouse that gets in and torments knitters by messing up their yarn. He’ll always get away because he has to go on to scare the next unsuspecting woman. Yeah, that’s what I could do. Well, maybe not.

Ben, you're always running here and there. 

You feel you're not wanted anywhere…