The Great Pretender

Oh-oh, yes I'm the great pretender.  

Pretending that I'm doing well... 

My need is such I pretend too much,

I'm lonely but no one can tell...  

She turned the key and as she opened the door she felt the relief wash over her. She stepped inside, took off her heels and immediately found some comfy sleep pants to slip on. It had been one of those weeks and she was so thankful for the coming weekend where she could close herself off from the world and forget her worries.

She poured a glass of wine and settled on the couch. Romeo came out from somewhere and rubbed around her legs. She reached for him but he didn’t choose to be touched so she let it go. Romeo was her rescue cat. He was big, gray, with deep green eyes and no tail. He was a Manx cat. She called him Romeo because he was forever hiding from her. She’d call, “O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?” and he’d appear from wherever it was he had concealed himself. Especially if there was something to eat! He was a typical cat.

She switched on the television and found an old movie. She preferred old movies or chick flicks over the action, blood, guts and gore movies that were so popular nowadays. She liked old detective and who done its but didn’t watch horror movies. All of the jumping out and scaring wasn’t a good thing when living alone.

She picked up her latest project. It was another shawl. She didn’t need another shawl, but they were easy, fun and she enjoyed making them. She wore them occasionally and saw through the fake compliments she received. But she didn’t care. She liked them and she would wear them when she pleased. It was a choice she had control over.

She appreciated the texture of the yarn as it slipped through her fingers. The colors were soothing. As she completed each stitch she pondered the events of the previous week. She wasn’t sure when it hit but she finally got it. It wasn’t that she was a hard study. Not at all. In fact, she had a brain. She used it and she had opinions. That’s what the problem was. The expectation was to conform, to complete without questioning. Obey orders, don’t think. Just say yes. It was a Stepford like experience. She finally realized that’s what it would take.

She sighed as she reached the end of the row. Why couldn’t she have been born independently wealthy? Why wasn’t she smart enough to have made her own fortune? Why did she have to depend on other people’s decisions and choices, just to pay her bills? It wasn’t fair. But at least she had a couple of days to be herself. To think her thoughts, agree, disagree and even have an idea. It wouldn’t last, but she’d savor the time while she had it.

Too soon it would be Monday. She’d swallow the bottle of yes sir yes ma’ams before she went to bed. She’d have to get the mask out of the closet when she got dressed and place it on her face as she headed out the door. She’d pretend all was great and nobody would be the wiser. It was stressful, but if that’s what it took, she’d do it. She’d go on pretending until she didn’t have to pretend any more.

Oh-oh, yes I'm the great pretender.

Adrift in a world of my own.

I've played the game but to my real shame,

You've left me to grieve all alone...

Supposedly there are two kinds of knitting; knitting to finish or knitting as a process. I’ve come to realize I’m a process knitter. I just like the knitting part. I do actually finish things. I give them away or wear them myself.

A Rollercoaster...scarf, shawl thing.

Kind of asymmetrical. Completely finished!

But I have a pile of things that just need the ends worked in or they need to be blocked or have a button sewn on. Maybe I’m ADHD or whatever the current term is. If I was allowed to knit I would be able to concentrate and listen so much better. It’s not socially acceptable though. People don’t believe that I could knit and listen at the same time. So I’ll just go on pretending I’m interested and doodle or play games on my phone and think about something else entirely. I’m pretty good at it. I’m a great pretender.

Yes I'm the great pretender.

Just laughin' and gay like a clown.

I seem to be what I'm not, you see…

I Am I Said

"I am," I said,
To no one there.
And no one heard at all.
Not even the chair…

Lately I’ve taken to listening to the old time radio station on my satellite radio. They broadcast radio shows from the past. There is a big variety, from comedy to drama, with the mystery and suspense programs being my favorite. I can almost see my grandparents gathered around the big radio in the blonde cabinet in their living room.

Before you think I’m really weird, remember I have an hour or so drive, each way to work. It’s an easy drive but the radio helps pass the time. These programs are much like listening to a book.

The other day I heard a tale, in the suspense category, according to the announcer, which was actually a short story by Ray Bradbury. After checking on the Internet I found out it’s a chapter in a book he wrote. The story was about an old woman, seventy-two, who saves all the memorabilia from her past. Her name is Mrs. Bentley. Seventy-two doesn’t seem all that old to me, but I guess back then it was. Anyway, two little girls come by and play in her yard one day. Being lonely, she calls to them to come up on her porch. They visit and Mrs. Bentley tells them that she was as young as they are once. The girls don’t believe it and argue with her. Then they say she’s lying and run away laughing. Mrs. Bentley is furious.

A few days later the girls are back. Mrs. Bentley calls them to the porch to show them some of the mementos she’s saved from her past, proving she was young as they once. The girls argue, saying the objects don’t prove a thing because she could have gotten them from anywhere. Frustrated, Mrs. Bentley insists that they too, will become old like she is one day. The girls grab her possessions and run from the porch, laughing as they go.

All of this makes Mrs. Bentley start to wonder about her childhood and her past. She looks through more of her souvenirs and hears the voice of her late husband speaking to her, explaining that the items no longer belong to her because they are from the past. She is no longer the person the items were saved for because she’s living now, in the present, and not in the past. None of the saved clothes will fit. The saved pictures don’t look like she looks now. They are not who she is today.

Finally, she understands and with the girls’ help, discards the tokens of her past. From that moment on she lives only in the present. The girls’ believe they were right and Mrs. Bentley was never young in a “million trillion years.”

For some reason this story really made me think. Perhaps it’s because I’m from a family of ‘savers’. Or maybe it’s because I heard and still hear the ‘remember when’ stories of my grandparents and parents past. Then again, maybe it’s because I’m the one who the girls would never believe was a little girl in a million trillion years.

I think that what happened in the past makes us who we are today, but, as Mrs. Bentley finds out, we aren’t that person. Think of a reunion. The cheerleaders are not cheerleaders any longer. The football stars are bald and overweight. Nobody looks like the picture in the yearbook. People who were close friends no longer know what the other likes, feels, thinks.

Remembering the past, loved ones who are gone, pleasant memories, is not a bad thing. Dwelling on the wrongs, the should haves, could haves and whys is not productive. Living for today may be the answer. We are who we are, because of who we were. But we can’t go back. I heard a quote in a movie once that stuck with me. “Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift. That’s why they call it the present!” So, make the most of today and be who you are.

"I am," I cried.

"I am," said I.

And I am lost, and I can't even say why.

Leavin' me lonely still…

There’s a bead store in Odessa that offers different classes on things I’ve been interested in but never tried. I can read directions and even follow them fairly well, but sometimes I like for someone to show me first so I can actually see how something is done. I guess I’m mostly visual when it comes to learning. Anyway, recently I took a class on wire crochet jewelry. It was fun and very easy. It’s also very forgiving, since it’s wire instead of thread. I took some great pictures with my phone but my phone is crazy and they aren’t there. I have a few pictures in progress from my camera, that aren’t very good, but the finished product turned out okay! It’s three separate strands, braided and twisted together.

Three chains braided. Blurry but you get the jist...

Then you just kind of shape the necklace, because it is a little bit stiff. Not real stiff, but not flexible, like a chain.

Finished.

A better picture.

Framed. Ha!

 I do plan to experiment and try some other bead and wire combinations. It’s fun and I’m trying things I never tried. I guess on class day I'm living for the day!

"I am," I said.

To no one there.

And no one heard at all…

Hot Stuff

Lookin' for some hot stuff baby this evenin'
I need some hot stuff baby tonight
I want some hot stuff baby this evenin'
gotta have some hot stuff…

Yeah baby, there’s some hot stuff out here! When it’s 86 degrees at 6:30am, you know it’s headed for another triple digit day! According to the news there have been 60+ days of triple digit temperatures in a row! It’s one of the hottest (and driest) summers on record. It’s been said that it’s so dry out here in Texas that the trees are signing up dogs!

When you turn the tap on to get a glass of cold water and you get water hot enough to steep tea, you know it’s hot. Seriously, we had some plumbing issues lately. The shower in the bathroom I use went wonky. Something was wrong when it was fixed and only the cold side of the water worked. Taking a shower in the cold water was warm enough to not notice a difference!

When it’s this hot your car becomes a weapon against yourself. You get sunburned through the car window! The best parking places are the spots in the shade instead of those closest to the door. If you aren’t lucky enough to get a shaded spot you’ll burn your hand opening the car door! And be careful with the seat belt. It makes a pretty good branding iron! Driving your car with two fingers is the norm. What if you don’t have air conditioning in the car? You probably just stay home.

Texas rain gauge...from an email...

A friend of mine did an experiment recently. She and her kids decided to see if they could bake cookies in the hot car. They put the dough on a cookie sheet in the back window. It took a while, around three hours, but the cookies actually baked! She said not only did they have fresh baked cookies, her car smelled great!

Hopefully this heat wave/drought will end soon. It’s just too hot to enjoy anything. Until then, I’ll stay in some air conditioned space, sipping on a cool drink and think of snow!

Hot, hot, hot, hot stuff
hot, hot, hot...

Knitting is slow in the heat. I have a scarf/shawlette that I’m working on, because it’s not too big. But the progress is slow. It’s funny how being hot makes you not want to do a thing. And if there’s one thing I’m good at? Doing nothing! The weather did say a cold front was coming through soon. Temperatures are only supposed to be in the high eighties. And everyone is excited about that news!

Lookin' for some hot stuff baby this evenin' …

Well, Excuse Me, But I Think You've Got My Chair…

No, that one's not taken, I don't mind
If you sit here, I'll be glad to share…

The other day, on a trip for work, I had what I think could possibly be the rudest thing ever, happen at the training. It involved a chair, or rather lack of one. Actually, the whole trip was a little bizarre. It was a bad chair day to say the least! But to keep it short, I’ll leave out some of the details.

There is a team of four of us in Austin for training. We arrive at the training a little early to allow for catching up with friends across the state. There are a lot of my work friends there. I’m always happy to see them. We visited and caught up and then it was time for the session to start. I headed towards the table where my team is sitting. Surprise! There are only three chairs and the three chairs are full. There are no empty chairs anywhere close. Nobody looks at me or says a word so I go across the room to sit by my friend. (Hmmm…this could be a whole other blog post!) And no, although rude, this wasn’t the rudest thing ever.

The updates begin and we regroup after break and my team makes sure to invite me to the new table. We have a great discussion and then it’s time for lunch. We all leave our materials at the table.

After lunch I go back to the table to sit down and there is a woman in my chair. She has pushed all of my belongings aside and put her things there. There are no other empty chairs at the table. Immediately she starts telling me she didn’t take my chair. She said she had pulled up a chair for me and some man took it. Really? I just looked at her. I picked up everything that was mine and moved to another table. I was not going to argue with some rude woman over a chair.

One of the people on my team started texting me, saying I shouldn’t have gone, that I had been there first and I needed to come back. That wasn’t going to happen. If taking the chair was that important to her, she could have it.

The rest of the training was uneventful. Soon it was time to leave. As I was standing outside waiting for the van, I noticed the same rude woman talking to one of the team. I hoped she might go away, but lo and behold, she was riding with us to the airport! It turns out she used to work where we do, and knew a member of the team. She was loading her luggage and as I climbed in the van I asked if I needed to give her my seat. I probably shouldn’t have said anything but I was a bit put out by the whole situation.

She got in the van and immediately started explaining again, how she hadn’t taken my chair. She’d pulled up a chair and some man took it. Oh wait, second try. She’d pulled up a chair but the man said I didn’t work there now and didn’t need it. Oh wait, third try. She’d pulled up a chair and some man just came over and said I left and took the chair while she was trying to tell him it was taken. Right. Decide on a story and stick to it or better yet, give it up already. I just said forget it and ignored her, the rest of the way to the airport.

In reality, none of the chairs belonged to any of us. But if you have been sitting in the chair, have all of your belongings there, including a nametag, it’s close to being ‘your’ chair. The way I see it she took my chair and ‘some man’ took hers. My things were there and she moved them to make room for hers. There was plenty of room and she should have pulled up a chair for herself and left mine, since it was already taken. She should have gotten up and found another chair to replace the one she decided she wanted. She should learn how to play well with others. She shouldn’t be so rude. And she should never try to sit anywhere close to me again.

Well, excuse me, but I think you've got my chair…

I should grab the knitting when something like that happens. Something upsetting or stressful I mean. But it’s not always understood by everyone that knitting can be a calming influence. It is for me and I’d do a lot better in many areas if I could knit all the time!

Speaking of knitting, Bryce will be in Germany this term for school and he wanted his scarf finished before he left. I finished but it was a bit short so I’m adding some at each end. I think it looks okay but I’m not convinced he shares my opinion. I also finished a short scarf or neckwarmer for him to take back.

Both ends with added section...it looks right to me!

Modeling...it's gonna be cold in Germany!

The ends again.

Modeling...this can be wrapped tight or left long

Up close view

It’s funny, the things that stick with you. I actually woke up from a sound sleep the other night, furious with the rude woman, who is Pamela, by the way, thinking of all the things I should have, could have said to her. I suppose if you just think rude things to say but never actually say them it’s not nearly as bad. By keeping my mouth shut I didn’t stoop to her level. Well maybe, but only in my mind!

Oh, I like you too, and to tell you the truth
That wasn't my chair after all.

If You Don’t Like It…

I don't need anyone to tell me how to run my life,
Got along alright so far I don't really think I need to hear your advice.

A few days ago I read this Miss Manners column online. (http://tinyurl.com/3felq6x) I found it funny, because it dealt with knitting. But the more I thought about it the more I realized it’s something that happens every day in many ways.

DEAR MISS MANNERS:

Over the years I have noticed people knitting in public and have had no particular problem with it. However, I am a bit put off by those who knit in church or at an event such as a recital or concert.

Is it acceptable to knit at a church, synagogue or other religious service? And what about a concert or recital? I recently attended a piano and violin recital in a small venue where someone was knitting in the third row. Surely it was evident to the performers. And if such knitting is not appropriate, how should the knitters be approached, or prevented?

GENTLE READER: Please do not -- repeat, not -- make a hostile approach to knitters. Have you not noticed that they are armed with long, pointy sticks?

Of all the multitaskers who could annoy you, Miss Manners would not have guessed that knitters would top the list. There is a centuries-long history of ladies quietly doing needlework while remaining alert to what was going on around them.

But perhaps your complaint is that they are not quiet. If the clicking of needles is what bothers you, you could appeal to the authorities at church or concert hall that as they ban texting, it is only fair to ban activities that create similar noise. And if they don’t already ban texting, you might start by asking that they do before going after those comparatively unobtrusive knitters.

Visit Miss Manners at her Web site,www.missmanners.com, where you can send her your questions.

2011, by Judith Martin

Why do people worry so much about what other people are doing? Is it curiosity or is it boredom? Do they have nothing better to do than to be concerned about others thoughts and/or actions?

Let me clarify that I’m open to suggestion. I really am! If you have an idea you want to share that can help make things better, I’ll listen. I’m even up for constructive criticism. But if I’m told what I should or shouldn’t be doing, that could be an entirely different story. It’s all in the presentation. I’m not sure who died and made them the expert. Oh, yeah, it was nobody. They are self appointed.

In my experience people like this are so lacking in self-confidence they have to project the attention on anything else but their own shortfalls. It’s disgusting. And sadly, the loudest, most obnoxious people seem to get the farthest. And those are the people telling me that what I do is wrong because they don’t think it’s appropriate. Get a life.

Personality seems to be a factor as well. I know whole families of know-it-alls. I also know a lot of people lacking in self-confidence who don’t become know-it-alls, judging everyone around them. I find it particularly funny when two know-it-alls get put together. It’s like one of those old silent movie Keystone Cops chase scenes. Everyone is dancing around, trying to convince people that what they think is the right thing but nobody is getting anywhere. Imagine what could be accomplished if everyone minded their own business and just did what they were supposed to do!

Miss Manner’s message seems clear to me. Stop worrying about what I’m doing. If you don’t like it, and it’s not causing physical harm, look the other way. As for me, I won’t worry about what you think. I read this the other day and it brought things into perspective. “What other people think about you is none of your business”. I don’t care what you think. And next time someone decides to tell me what all is wrong with me and my life and what I’m doing, they should remember, I have a lot of long, pointy sticks!

I've seen 'em come and go tryin' to do it all for show
Got their walkin', talkin', built in' jive
Don't really think they're workin' nine to five

If you don't like it I don't care

Remember Bryce’s scarf I was working on way back in January? Well, I didn’t like it so I put it aside. It was drawing up on the sides and was just not looking right. He’s home for a bit so he’d like it finished to take back with him. I ripped it out and started it again, lengthwise. I only had a short pair of circular needles with me when I started it so it’s crowded on the cord. I never changed when I had the chance so I don’t know how long it is but I hope it’s okay. It seems like I’ve taken more rows out than put in but I’ll finish it before he leaves so he can wear it during the cold weather in Germany, his next stop. Really, I’m glad when one of the kids wants me to make them something!

Lotsa stitches!

Bryce's scarf

Other things I’m trying are some jewelry/beading type things. I’m quickly finding that it’s not really my forte! Everything I do seems to look like an elementary art project. Oh well! Nobody told me I had to try something new! 

First try at 'fixtures'

I've got my mind made up know what I wanna do.
I'll do it anyway I choose…

If you don't like it I don't care.
Hit the road 'cause I just  just  just don't care.

With a Little Help from My Friends…

What would you do if I sang out of tune,

Would you stand up and walk out on me?

Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song

And I'll try not to sing out of key...

We all need friends. Most of us have some, if not many. And really, it’s not how many friends you have, but the kind of friends you keep that make you happy or not. We make friends, lose friends and hold on to some in our lives for many years. And there are still others yet to be met.

There’s something to that saying, “It takes all kinds.” I think the different friends, (sometimes acquaintance is a better word), I have, all help bring out a special part of me. I have friends that don’t criticize when I sing out of tune. I have friends that would leave the room at the thought of me singing. I have friends I joke with. I have friends that I could only be serious with and others with whom I wouldn’t share a thing. I have friends I can get silly and giggle with, never feeling self conscious. I have friends I can drink with and others that I’d never even consider in that sphere. I hear one friend's problems and give her advice then turn around and listen to another advising me. I’m polite and serious with some and loud and raunchy with others. I’ve grown closer to some and sometimes, sadly, drifted away from others. I have friends I can call or text anytime and others whose numbers I don’t even have. I have friends who take me at my word and others who think nothing of using my words against me. I have friends who make me sad and some who make me glad. I have friends who make me mad. I even have some who can make me bad! I have those who think they know me and some who only knew me when. The important thing is I have friends, even when I think there is nobody around that cares.

I read something in an email the other day about all the kinds of friends people have. In fact that’s what inspired this post to some extent. The message also said Dr. Oz calls friends Vitamin F (for friends) and counts the benefits of friends adding to our overall health and well being. I thought that was kind of cool until I googled Vitamin F and found out it that it’s really essential fatty acids. Somehow I doubt that my friends would want me calling them essential fatty acids! But with essential being the key word, I can see how the two could be compared.

Life is about experiencing people, from all walks. I’m realizing that I need to appreciate the people in my life and take nobody for granted. Those are the people who care about me. And on the days when I think it just doesn’t matter anymore I’ll think about a friend and it will all be okay.

Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends.

Mm, I get high with a little help from my friends.

Mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends...

Knitting? I almost always have some with me. I really like to start things. Finishing? I think this picture sums it up!

No, I get by with a little help from my friends.

Mm, I get high with a little help from my friends.

Mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends...

In Fort Worth, Dallas or Houston…

or in San Antone…

It’s doesn’t matter where, but this time, Dallas it is. I’ll be there for a few days for a conference. This trip has added benefits in the fact that my friends from across the state will be there. I can contact any of them by email, telephone or text, but we don’t get to meet in person often, so we take advantage of the opportunity when we can.

Education Service Center Regions in Texas

We’ll, laugh, joke and learn from each other. We started as a group of strangers and we’ve become a group of friends. These are the people I depend on when I have a problem in the program I work with. I have no qualms asking dumb questions. Sometimes I get dumb answers in return but most of the time I get new ideas, new information and new perspectives or find the answer that was in front of me the whole time.

It’s not often a group forms the dynamics we have, especially with the distance involved, and it is a real pleasure. I’ll be surrounded with support and encouragement. I’ll bring it back with me and hope it can last until the next time we meet in person.

In Beaumont, Lubbock or Austin. Or in El Paso…

In Fort Worth, Dallas or Houston. Or in Abilene…

I tried something new the other day. I just happened to see an advertisement for a crocheted bead bracelet class. It was my week off from work so I made arrangements to go. When I went in to register and got a look at the bracelet, it wasn’t what I had thought. In fact, it looked really simple to put together. And it was. I had to string the beads that were in the kit before I got there and bring a crochet hook.

Beads strung on cord

There was no pattern. Instead we got spoken instructions. I didn’t mind that but some of the finishing techniques were new to me and I’d have liked a written copy or a picture or something to make sure I can do it should I try another one. The crochet part was simple. It was chain for about four and a half inches with a bead in each chain. Then there were three single chains, without beads, and another section of four and a half inches with beads. This continued until the cord ran out.

Crochet bead chain

Putting it together wasn’t all that hard either. What I found out is that I can’t see! I really couldn’t see the ring to open it or to put it on the beads. I couldn’t see to add the charms. I didn’t even know I couldn’t see what I couldn’t see! I got a little help from the instructor on that part.

Charms might not have been exactly where I wanted but since I couldn't see...

The end product didn’t look bad at all! I enjoyed the class and hope I can participate in more. Maybe my next class should be one of those eyeglass holder necklaces, with some new glasses attached!

Finished product!

The arm isn't so great but the bracelet is!

I hope I can meet with my peeps again soon. Anywhere.

In Wichita Falls or Waco or San Angelo…

Somewhere round about Fort Worth Dallas or Houston or ol' El Paso…

Mother’s Little Helper

What a drag it is getting old…

Mother needs something today to calm her down.

And though she's not really ill,

There's a little yellow pill…

As I was searching through my purse for something for a headache, my friend leaned over and pointed to a purple pill in the bunch and asked if it was for the stomach. I replied yes, it was, and she grinned and said she took that one too. Next she identified a pink and white capsule, then a round yellow pill. She pulled out her bottle and pointed out an oblong yellow pill and a small round pink pill and explained what they were. Finally, one of us came across a large, white, round pill. That was the headache relief!

I have been fortunate and never had to take much medicine. Now it seems that every time I turn around I think I need something else! I’m not sick and not unhealthy. Most things I seek are not prescription medications. Why bother? There are aches that weren’t there before, and pains that weren’t there before and stress that wasn’t there before. Getting old is rough!

Over Medicated Cartoon by Chato Stewart

I’m not the only one. Now, whatever is wrong, medication seems to be the answer. Unhappy? Take a pill. Can’t sleep? Take a pill. Tired? Take a pill! Maybe overmedicated is what is wrong. Because today there seems to be a pill for everything, I’ll go find a chill pill and make it through another day. That will have to do until they put wine in the break-room!

Chill Pill!

She goes running for the shelter of a mother's little helper,

And it helps her on her way, gets her through her busy day…

What do you do to relax? Playing with my yarn helps me relax. I knit or crochet just to do it. I like the repetition. That’s relaxing. I like the variety of texture and color. I like seeing the yarn turning from a single string into something. I like the idea that it’s not permanent. I can rip it out if I don’t like it. I can turn it into another project altogether.

This is just part of it!

It’s too hot where I live to really use what I make. But I just keep making. What is the limit? How much yarn is enough? How many scarves and shawls and blankets and sweaters can one person have?

Doctor please, some more of these!

Outside the door, she took four more…

What a drag it is getting old…

Only In America

Dreaming in red, white and blue…

Only in America.

Where we dream as big as we want to.

We all get a chance,

Everybody gets to dance.

Only in America…

On July 4, 1776, the Declaration of Independence was approved, setting 13 colonies on the way to becoming an independent nation. Independence Day is the national day of the United States of America. We celebrate July 4 with fireworks, parades, barbecues, picnics, baseball games and family. But without the freedom we have being American citizens, this wouldn’t happen.

Happy Birthday America!

When you are getting ready for your picnic and fireworks, think about what Independence Day really means. Think about your freedom and all you are able to do. Then think about the cost associated with it. Think about the people that have made the ultimate sacrifice. And be thankful you’re an American.

One kid dreams of fame and fortune.

One kid helps pay the rent.

One could end up going to prison.

One just might be president.

Yeah, only in America.

Where we dream in red, white and blue.

Yeah, we dream as big as we want to