As a rule, I don’t have many rules.  Even my children will tell you there weren’t many rules when they were little.  My cats probably have more rules than my kids did. But, then, they probably need them.  In fact, many of the cats’ rules are carry-overs from the kids:

• Don’t climb on the bookcases
• Don’t pee on the carpet
• Get off the counter
• Stop playing with your food
• Quit swinging on the curtains
• If you’re gonna fight, go somewhere else

Nowadays I’m on my own, so I don’t really need any rules.  It’s bad enough just following instructions.  Every dang thing you buy seems to come with instructions.  Saftey instructions; how to assemble it; how to use it; how to wash it; how to dispose of it; how to cook it… Frankly, I find instructions boring.  I’m a make-it-up-as-you-go kinda girl, so I’m not too keen to have someone tell me how to do a thing.  Besides, I can almost always–well, occasionally–come up with a better (read: different) way of doing things.

It’s the same with patterns, which are a sort of instruction, but with a creative twist.  I almost never follow patterns; that would be acknowledging that someone else has a better idea than I do.  The truth is, I’m just not very good at it.  I’m too impatient and undisciplined. I’m inclined to skip steps.  In the end, the choice seems to be between a dubious idea (mine) well-executed or a great idea (a pattern) poorly executed. Of course, there are also the occasions when I get a dubious idea poorly executed…

But in the matter of rules, I do have one hard and fast rule:  Anyone who sees me without eyebrows, I have to kill.  I have had to make a few exceptions for medical personnel over the years–generally in operating rooms, but that’s it. A rule is a rule, after all.       MM