Who Died and Made you King of Anything

Who cares if you disagree?
You are not me
Who made you king of anything?
So you dare tell me who to be?
Who died and made you king of anything?

I walk through the day and I hear any number of self proclaimed experts telling me how to live my life. I can find someone to tell me how to dress, what car to drive, what to eat and what insurance to buy. If I try this or buy that my life will improve immensely.

I hear expert information on television. I hear it on satellite radio where there aren’t supposed to be any commercials. I hear it at work. I even hear it at the grocery store.

Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. That’s how we live in America. It’s a democracy and we have the freedom of choice. I’ve never lived anywhere else and wouldn’t choose to, mainly because of that guaranteed freedom. Can your opinion cause you to become so self righteous and self assured that you can never be wrong? I think that’s a possibility.

I had a problem the other day. It was something I know how to do. It wasn’t working correctly. I explained the situation to someone who was supposed to offer help and support in this type of situation. Then the questions started.

Him: Did you push the buttons?
Me: Yes, I did.
Him: Did you have a blank field? It only works in a blank field.
Me: Yes, I was in a blank field. And I pushed the buttons.
Him: Did you push the right buttons? There are different buttons that do different things.
Me: Yes, I know that AND I used the correct buttons.
Him: Well, that’s never happened to me. You must be doing something wrong.
The end.

Was my problem solved? No. But the self proclaimed expert decided I was doing something wrong and the system was correct. Maybe I was doing something wrong. But the opinion was, without any visible facts of the situation, that I had to be the one wrong and something couldn’t be wrong with the system. Was it even checked? No. The opinion? I’m right and you are wrong.

Maybe the problem I have is with authority in general. I appreciate your opinion. I really do. And I will view it with an open mind. I can’t tell you the things I’ve learned from listening to what someone else thinks. Things I might have never thought of otherwise. But when you proclaim it’s your way or the highway, no questions asked, I will rebel. It irritated me to no end when I was in school, to receive an assignment with directions including the phrase “what you think”. I always knew it didn’t matter what I thought. If I didn’t think what the so-called correct answer was, it wasn’t right. So why even ask? I often wonder about weird things as well. Who decided green is green? Why isn’t green blue? Who had the authority to make that decision? Who?

I realize there is a difference in opinion and a rule. Rules are set, whether you agree or disagree, to make things run smoothly and to keep things safe. Some rules don’t bother me. Some bother me a lot. And for the most part I conform. We need rules to keep things aligned. I just read a blog about smuggling knitting needles onto airplanes. It’s pretty much legal on airlines nowadays, but the TSA always has the last say. I would never try something like that. I wouldn’t chance getting arrested just to knit on an airplane!

I was at a knitting group one time a long time ago where a beginner knitter was working on a project. One of the more experienced people came along and watched. Immediately she said, “You are doing that wrong. This is the way to do it.” She took the knitting and ripped it back to the beginning. The beginner was crestfallen. I watched her self-esteem unravel along with the yarn. Her hard work and concentration destroyed! All because someone decided that the way to do things is her way, the only way. Newsflash: There isn’t a right way to knit! Your own way is the right way! You have to hold the needles and the yarn in a way that’s comfortable for you. Granted you knit and you purl, and those are definite stitches, but the technique getting there can be diverse and varied.

As Joan Rivers says, can we talk? Tell me what you think. Express your opinion. I’m ready to listen. And I’ll expect the same courtesy. I may learn something. And I have no problem agreeing to disagree. Besides, I already know that I’m right!

You’ve got opinions, man
We’re all entitled to ‘em, but I never asked.
So let me thank you for your time, and try not to waste anymore of mine
And get out of here fast

Day 159, September 6 was the day we came back from hunting in Stamford. It was the end of a good weekend and we took E home and the kids were all over us. It gives you a warm feeling to be so loved. I picked a pink rug yarn. It was a rosy feeling and pink suited the day. Day 160, September 7, is a day to be thankful. It’s my beautiful baby girl’s birthday. She’s grown now with babies of her own but she’ll always be my baby. I picked orangey boucle because it reminds me of her. I made curtains and pillows and all for her bedroom in gingham that was that color. She hates that color but it still reminded me of her. September 8, day 161 is a busy day. There are meetings and lots of stuff to catch up on. I chose a pink, white and blue acrylic. The colors are bright and remind me of a busy time. Day 162, September 9, was a day of reflection. I chose a light purple velour. There are a lot of conflicting thoughts right now. Day 163, September 10, I accomplished quite a bit. I chose a variegated ticker tape that is orange, turquoise, and purple. It knits up very nicely and reminds me of royalty. When I get things done I feel like a queen. September 11 is day 164. It’s a good day. We got green chili and put it up. 137 quarts in all. That’s a lot! I was pleased and chose a hot pink yarn. Day 165 September 12 was a trip to Austin I was dreading. But I was pleasantly surprised and had a good time. We went shoe shopping and that’s always fun! The yarn today was a green, turquoise, and yellow cotton. It’s fun colors and surprising how it works up together. Finally, it’s day 166, September 13. It was a day of training but I feel like I know a lot more. I chose white boucle, which seemed bright, like I felt today. I was in the middle of a battle of wills, but I knew it and stayed neutral. I have learned a bit of diplomacy. I’m glad I’m strong enough to disagree. And I’m smart enough to I know I’m not the king of anything, without someone having to tell me!

Who cares if you disagree?
You are not me
Who made you king of anything?
So you dare tell me who to be?
Who died and made you king of anything?

Good Old Desk

Oowah Oowah ah ah ah-ah Oowah Oowah ah

My old desk doesn’t arabesque, in the morning when I first arrive.
It’s a pleasure to see it’s waiting there for me to keep my hopes alive.
Such a comfort to know it’s got no place to go, it’s always there.
It’s the one thing I’ve got, a huge success,
my Good Old Desk.

We are moving and changing offices at work. I’m still not sure why. I’ve been told it’s to foster collaboration. I’ve about decided it’s to get people to clean up their spaces.

Not enough room

When I say office, I say it as a loose term for the place I spend most of my life. The structure is much like a long hallway with six rooms off of it. The rooms have three walls but there is no wall off the hallway. The hallway is called a pod. The places we stay are called cubes. We call them offices, just out of habit.

Getting ready to move

There is not enough room for the things we have to store in our cubes. You’ll look around and see how people have improvised by buying crates or stacking shelves or hoarding the much coveted blue cart. There are stacks on desks, on tables and even on the floor.

Crates, crates and more crates!

Each office has a built in cabinet, bolted to the wall so it can’t be moved. There is one tall bookshelf and one short bookshelf, unless you get lucky and can get someone to agree to you having two tall bookshelves. The desks are leftovers; a hodgepodge of furniture in veritable stages of disrepair. There are two chairs, one for the desk and one in case a visitor stops by. Most people have also secured a table and some sort of hutch like device to increase storage space and make a kind of work surface.

Wall cabinet looking down the pod.

There’s no privacy. With the missing ‘wall’ and no door, any conversation may be overheard. People whisper quietly, stand in corners or even meet elsewhere when there’s something private to discuss. If there is a phone call, depending on how your voice carries, the whole pod may know your business. Some people are extremely loud. It’s almost like they want you to know that the insurance is due next week, it’s time for the annual checkup, the dentist appointment is Tuesday, the oil needs changing in the car and anything else going on in their life. That’s just the personal side. If you want to know business details, just listen.

A hutch on a table for storage.

I’ve been in my ‘office’ for eleven years. I’m in the same space I started in. I’ve never had to move. When you first come to work you inherit whatever is left in the desk from the person before you. They kindly leave you all sorts of treasure in the tall cabinet. Often times the bookshelves are left filled and any file cabinet you inherit is generally packed.

Workspace...filled up!

When you first come you have no idea what can be tossed in the garbage or donated to another unsuspecting consultant. If you ask the wrong person you’ll get the answer that it’s still important information. Yes, it’s from the 1980’s, but it’s good stuff. And you might need it or use it someday. After you’ve been there a few years you become brave and toss without asking.

The big move came as sort of a surprise. There had been rumors for several weeks, but the most vocal rumor mongers vacillated as to whether we would really be moved and how we would be grouped to we wouldn’t be moved at all. When the official email announcement finally arrived almost every person had to move out of their cube and into another one. Some moves were drastic, across the building moves. Some were close. I moved one cube down. This time we had to leave the old furniture and move just our belongings to the new space. The only furniture that you could take with you was the file cabinets.

There were some old ‘new’ desks in a store room. They were offered to the staff. They are sort of big, for our cube space anyway, but have lots of cubby holes. I asked if I could have one of the desks. There were more requests than desks so names were drawn and lo and behold, I became the owner of a new desk. I was also in the right place at the right time and was able to trade the short shelf for another tall shelf. I decided then I would build a wall.

Two tall shelves...soon to be filled!

The move created a domino effect. When the extra office was cleaned out Frank could move. Then John could move to his spot and I could move to John’s spot so that Elizabeth could move to my spot and Angie could move to her spot and so on. When it was your turn to move there wasn’t much warning. Okay, it’s ready, you’re moving. Of course it happened during everyone’s busiest week. And there was pressure. So instead of the weeding out, cleaning up and paring down, things were tossed into boxes and moved to the new space. When it was my turn to move I had two workshops to prepare for and present.

The new desk moved in.

The furniture was set up when I arrived. I had my great new desk and the two shelves with the backs to the outside, creating a makeshift wall. With some help I moved most of the books from the old shelves to the new shelves. I only had the desk and the wall cabinet to empty. The pressure was on to move another desk into my old space because the current desk wasn’t all that great. So while I was gone all of the drawers were dumped into labeled boxes for me. When I came back I hurriedly emptied the cabinet into boxes. As I was taking things out new things were being placed in the cabinet. I just wanted to hurry to get out of the way.

The fake 'doorway'.

I’m in the new office. I like my new desk. I’m still deciding where to put things because there are lots of new cubby holes. But there’s a lot of change from my old desk too. The drawers aren’t in the same places. They aren’t the same size. I’m adjusting well. I’m in the office, just not completely put away. I think I’ve found a new friend in my desk. It’s comforting to be behind my shelves at my desk.

Oowah Oowah ah ah ah-ah Oowah Oowah ah

My old desk never needs a rest, and I’ve never once heard it cry.
I’ve never seen it tease, it’s always there to please me from nine to five.
Such a comfort to know, its dependable and slow, but it’s always there.
It’s the friend I’ve got, a giant of all times,
my Good Old Desk.

After all of the turmoil, pressure and stress, I think the move is a good one for me. I’m not excited about the other people in my pod, but I can deal with it. And I’ll go in behind my shelves, my makeshift wall, and sit at my old desk. I’ll work. I’ll play. I’ll reminisce at my new old desk.

My Old Desk!

I’m keeping up with knitayear, surprisingly enough! There are days when I can’t add to it right away because I don’t have the yarn or I’m out of pocket. But I keep track of how I feel and choose the yarn accordingly and add when I can. Currently I’m caught up! Day 74 is Sunday, a day of rest. I shouldn’t have, because there’s always a lot to be done here, but I did rest. I chose an aqua boucle that seemed peaceful and nice to me. Day 75 I got to work with the doctors at TTUHSC. I always feel useful and welcome when I go there. They are so smart but I have something to offer them in a different capacity. I always feel I have helped. If a doctor takes his time to attend another workshop it must have been of some benefit to him. I chose yellow, with a touch of green and white. It’s a bamboo yarn it’s soft and welcoming, like I feel when I go there. Day 76 was a busy day. Getting ready for workshops, tomorrow and next week. I chose a turquoise fun fur, loosely knit but strong enough to hold things together. I felt exhausted today with all I’ve got going. The turquoise is probably my favorite color. The yarn is strong and decorative but thin and surprising. It reminds me I can do what it takes and hold things together. June 16 was day 77. I worked in the town I live, at the school I left. I did substitute teacher training. I was skeptical but it went extremely well. It’s sometimes hard to work where you live. But this time it was great. I chose a bright ribbon yarn. I felt fulfilled that I had been successful. The bright colors reminded me of being happy and the strength of the ribbon reminded me I am strong. June 17, day 78, is a steel blue homespun yarn. I’m just tired, but the week went well. I did okay. The blue is strong, steady. I have to be reminded, and I’m sad to say it’s frequently, that I am okay and I can do good. I think I’ll print a sign and put it on my new old desk.


Oowah Oowah ah ah ah-ah Oowah Oowah ah

My old desk isn’t picturesque, but it’s happy as a desk can be.
We never say a word, but it’s perfectly alright with me.
For when my hearts on the blow, I just open the drawer of my favorite desk.
And what do I see? But a picture of me working at my Good Old Desk.

“Ka-Ching”

We live in a greedy little world—
that teaches every little boy and girl
To earn as much as they can possibly—
then turn around and
Spend it foolishly

Have you ever bought something you didn’t need? Maybe it was on sale or maybe you just wanted it? Maybe you already had one so now you have two because it was too good of a deal to pass up? Of course you have! We all have something we don’t need. We all have stuff. A lot of us have too much stuff.


Stuff is the subject of comedians. George Carlin has a whole routine on having stuff. He said a house is just a pile of stuff with a cover on it. That's all your house is: a place to keep your stuff. If you didn't have so much stuff, you wouldn't need a house. You could just walk around all the time.

There are several television shows now based on people who have too much stuff. We watch these kinds of shows and think, wow, they have a problem. As we watch, we are thinking how could anyone live like that? It’s disgusting. Then we quickly glance around and think quietly, is that me?

There is even an organization called Clutterers Anonymous, whose primary purpose is to stop cluttering one day at a time and to carry this message of recovery to clutterers who still suffer. They say they are “a fellowship of men and women who share their experience, strength, and hope with each other that they may solve their common problem with clutter and help each other to recover”. I wonder if they have stuff with their logo on it?


So how do you determine how much stuff is too much stuff? Is there a stuff scale and if you get over a certain point you have too much? Is it possible to have too much stuff? Wouldn’t not having any stuff be a bigger problem? I’m sure there are many people who wish they had enough stuff. They would even be ecstatic to have too much stuff. But it seems like almost everyone has too much stuff in one way or another.

I know people who have too much stuff on their minds. They are busy beyond belief. They can’t and don’t take time for the little things, the things that brought them pleasure. I know people who throw out food. There is so much stuff in their refrigerators they can’t even find the ‘good’ stuff and end up wasting food that other people would be glad to have. I know people who can’t find their jewelry in the morning because they have so much stuff it’s all meshed together and one piece can’t be singled out.

So why do we have too much stuff? Perhaps it’s because we can. After all, new is better, right? And new doesn’t have to be new. Just new to you. And we all need new stuff. Of course there’s always the special occasion when you need a treat and you deserve it so you get more stuff. Then there’s the old ‘keeping up with the Jones’ thought. If they have stuff I need stuff too. And finally, sometimes you just don’t have anything else to do, you’re bored, so you get more stuff. The Internet and television make it so easy.

When I was growing up we got one pair of shoes at the beginning of school. Sometimes, only if we had to because of school, we got a pair of tennis shoes too. Those ugly old white ones, nothing like the cool ones kids have today. We didn’t have good shoes and play shoes and Sunday shoes. We had one pair of shoes. We wore them from the beginning of school to the end of school unless you were lucky enough to have foot growth spurt or have a really large hole in the sole.


My aunt had a lot of shoes. She had red shoes and blue shoes and shoes with little bows on them. I’d never seen so many shoes. I vowed then that when I grew up I would be like her and have as many pair of shoes as I wanted. I would never have to wear just one pair of shoes until they were so ugly and ragged that it was less embarrassing to just stay home. And now I have as many pairs as I want. Do I have too many? Probably. Just ask my family what they think.

I read an interview with Dolly Parton once and she was telling the interviewer why she liked wearing the wigs and makeup that have become her trademark. She said when she was little she would see this woman who was blond and piled her hair up, wore high heels and tight skirts. She thought she was the prettiest thing she'd ever seen. She didn't know what she was, and it turned out she patterned her look after her. She said her mother used to tell her the lady was just trash. Dolly thought if that was the case she wanted to be just like that when she grew up…trash. Dolly has several wigs and people who are hired just to keep them styled. She equates high hair and tight clothes to beauty, just like I equate having more than one pair of shoes necessary to keep from embarrassment or humiliation.


Maybe you can have too much stuff. When it’s not fun to find new stuff, it could be a sign you’ve got enough. When you don’t have any more room, you might have enough. If it’s a chore to acquire something new or that you like, maybe you have enough stuff. If it might have occurred to you that the stuff you have is becoming a burden you could have enough stuff.

So what can you do? You can always throw some of your stuff out. You can look through your closets and fill up garbage bags with those clothes you are going to diet down to and wear again, or with the shoes you might have had since you were in your twenties. You can get rid of stuff you've had for years for no apparent reason. You can donate to Goodwill but not the Salvation Army because they took some of my friend’s stuff without asking. You can leave stuff by the dumpster or out by the road or in the alley and let some lucky someone find it and make your stuff their very own. And then, to celebrate, you can go out and buy or get more stuff!


Day 48 was one of those days where there was a lot to do. It seemed like I stayed at it, diligently, all day but there was just as much to do when I finished as when I started. I chose a yellow with a little orange twist woven in. The yellow was a happy color saying it could all be done. Day 49 brought blue yarn. It was an open sort of day, open and receptive to new things and new ideas. The blue reminded me of sky and how there are no limits in the sky. You can keep your ideas and still be receptive to something new. Fuzzy pink yarn was the color of the day for Day 50. It was a day filled with apprehension. Stupid things going on at work type of day. Things that aren’t important at all but make you wonder or worry. The fuzzy pink reminded me that there is a solid core but all the extra makes a fuzz around that core. The core is just as strong as it ever was, just ignore the fuzz or pretend it’s supposed to be there to make things more interesting. Knitayear on day 51 was a ribbon yarn, blue, purple and aqua, with threads hanging from it every so often. It was a thoughtful day, not so much in that I did anything nice for people, just that I was thinking about many different things, things I should have or shouldn’t have done. The solid ribbon showed a steady day of thinking while the threads were the tangents my weary mind goes off on. It’s all connected and the fiber is still strong even with the threads waving. Day 52 was a lazy day. I chose an orange handspun. It’s more of the antique yarn I found that I made in highschool. I look at some of that and compare it to what my friend Brenda can spin and find there is no comparison. This yarn is a wide bulky yarn. Again, I don’t remember if it is spindle or wheel yarn. It would be considered art yarn today probably, like I intentionally made it that way! It was calming to work with though and fell right into place. I’m thinking tonight that while you can have too much stuff you can never have too much yarn stuff!


All we ever want is more
A lot more than we had before
So take me to the nearest store...

Anticipation...

Is makin' me late,
Is keepin' me waitin'...

Well, that and the dryer! I’m waiting for some clothes to dry so I can finish packing for the WHIBSIB weekend. WHIBSIB stands for what happens in Buda stays in Buda. Buda is a little town or maybe a suburb I guess, of Austin. Every year a bunch of us meet. It’s always called WHIBSIB whether it’s actually in Buda or not!

It’s a ladies weekend. No kids, no husbands and no dogs! We all have a common interest and that’s yarn. We all know how to knit. Some know how to crochet as well. Some spin, some weave and some dye yarn. We have a lot of fun. Besides yarn things we visit, play and shop. We also have wine but friends don’t let friends knit drunk!


The strangest thing about the weekend is how we all met. Of course some people were friends and knew each other but most of us met through the Internet. We have a knitting listserv and know each other online. I felt a little odd the first time I went. I was going to meet a bunch of strangers who said they were knitters. How did I know? I didn’t. I went on good faith and spent the weekend with a bunch of strangers who have become my friends.

Now when I go I’m excited to see my old friends and anxious to meet new ones. I look forward to seeing new yarn, petting people’s projects and maybe even learning something! I want to see the yarn my roommate has been spinning. I want to see the weaving projects another friend created. I want to see the new sweaters and shawls and scarves. I want to relax and enjoy a fun weekend without anything work related tied to it. I’ll miss the people who can’t come but I’ll be happy to see the Internet strangers who have become my friends. And I’ll remember another WHIBSIB!

My knit a year has almost become one month old! I was so tired Wednesday I chose a gray with a little sparkle. It’s Moonlight Mohair so I thought it was fitting. For Thursday I found some orphan yarn called Ci Ci that looked bright and happy. I couldn’t imagine why I had it in the first place but then remembered it was pretty with a wool yarn in a felted piece. It’s happy colors! I just heard the dryer so I’d best get packing.


We can never know about the days to come, but we think about them anyway, yay.
And tomorrow we might not be together. I'm no prophet and I don't know nature's ways. So I'll try and see into your eyes right now and stay right here 'cause these are the good old days…

Dust In The Wind, All We Are Is Dust In The Wind

It’s so windy outside. It’s awful. You go outside and you’re just beat. Your clothes go one way, your hair the other. And if you happen to have anything in your hand you’d better be hanging on! I only went out on the porch one time today because it was so nasty.

There’s a poem my grandmother used to read to us.

“WHO HAS SEEN THE WIND ?
BY: CHRISTINA ROSSETTI
Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you:
But when the leaves hang trembling
The wind is passing thro'
Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I:
But when the trees bow down their heads
The wind is passing by.

If someone asked me if I’ve seen the wind I could probably answer with an honest ‘yes’. There aren’t too many trees but the dust and the tumbleweeds fly by! I get so tired of it. I heard once that there was a correlation between wind and suicide. I don’t know if that’s correct or not but I could see how it could drive you to something drastic. Me, I just stay in the house unless I have to go out.

I don’t know if windblown is a mood but that’s what I felt today. I chose a fun fur, dark brown, because of my hair blowing in the wind.



It’s interesting how life might be compared to the wind. Like the wind, life blows right by. There are times when things are going smoothly, like a gentle breeze. There are others when life is almost too much, like a hurricane, blowing and destroying everything around you. And sometimes you might find out nothing worked as you planned and you aren’t in Kansas anymore. The thing to remember? There is always tomorrow. Always a time to start again. As the wind blows.

Don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky
It slips away, and all your money won't another minute buy.
Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind, everything is dust in the wind.

Everybody Plays The Fool…Sometime

So it’s April 1, 2010, April Fool’s day. On this day people typically pull jokes, hopefully harmless, on their friends and relatives. How this custom came about is still a mystery. There are several theories, according to Snopes. Whatever the origin, I’m glad I didn’t have to leave the house today…just in case!

I don’t feel too good today. Actually I haven’t for the last three days, at least. Bad heartburn. Wake you up in the night heartburn. Sit up and sleep heartburn. And nothing is kicking it. I already take a little purple pill but I’ve been eating antacids too. Then someone told me it’s a warning sign for a heart attack in women. That was reassuring! So who knows?

So what kind of yarn goes with a stomach ache? My first thought is green. Or maybe it should be a red. The green spoke louder. This yarn is a combination of wool, alpaca and Donegal tweed and the color is Toad. It’s from a scarf for a dear childhood friend who lives in Alaska. I’m still working on the scarf but since it is Alaska, and probably cold a lot of the time, maybe he’ll get some use out of it! I may make a matching hat. Maybe.


So happy April Fool’s. If you got pranked don’t worry cause…
Everybody plays the fool, sometime…No exception to the rule…

I Can't Stop This Feeling, Deep Inside Of Me…

The other day I read a ‘tweet’ talking about a project called ‘Knit-a-Year’. I was intrigued. The recipe is basic; cast on some stitches, knit at least two rows every day using a color that fits your mood or feelings that day. If you want, you can journal or blog as a kind of documentation of your feelings, ultimately creating a personal record of the year.

I told a couple of people about the idea. I guess it’s to artsy-fartsy for the average person, especially if the person doesn’t knit or worse, isn’t creative. Then I thought about it. This idea could apply to anything that was of interest. If you read, choose a book and reflect after the amount you’ve chosen to read each day. Explore poetry and document your interpretation. If you like music listen to a new artist each day or a favorite song or a theme, like a song with Monday in the lyrics. Then reflect if you want. You could choose to try something new every day, a food, a project, an idea. You could take this idea wherever you wanted.

So I’ve decided to start this on April 1. I don’t know that I’ll write every day but I do hope to knit every day. I’ve asked a couple of people who don’t look at me like I’m one knitting needle short of a pair if they want to join me. At least they understand! So for now…

I'll just stay addicted and hope I can endure…
I'm hooked on a feeling…