Murdo Girl…Over Beaster Hill we will go

The tiny tipsters will be moving Beastertown to it’s new location on the other side of Beaster Hill sometime within the next couple of weeks. Things are moving quickly now, but this last phase can’t move fast enough as far as I’m concerned.

The concrete pad for the RV and carport was poured today and boy does it look big. Kip commented that it looks a lot different in real life than it does on paper. I think he is doing an excellent job as a subcontractor, of sorts. I went to the site mid-morning just in time to watch the cement dry for a bit. It wasn’t much more exciting than watching paint dry, but tomorrow, MG will be there with bells on to watch the tiny home arrive. We don’t have an ETA yet, but it should get there early as under optical conditions, it’s only a thirty minute drive from the factory.

The hard part is going to be waiting for the sewer, water, and electricity to be hooked up. You know how hard it is to get utility companies to hurry. After the house gets set tomorrow, the concrete guys will come back, (early next week), to pour the driveway. The skirting/siding can’t be completed until the utilities are hooked up. The coordination at the end of the project might very well be a pleasant surprise or it could be frustrating. Believe me, we are very grateful that everything so far has happened like it was meant to be…

Here are some pictures I took of the Tiny Tipster house, yesterday. The refrigerator and stove-top are in, and the tile is completed. I keep rearranging furniture in my head and trying to decide what will fit. One thing is certain. There is a lot more storage than you would ever think possible. I have some ideas that I can’t wait to try and implement. It will be small, but it will be fun.


The bar/counter will seat three and the island, shown further down, will also seat three. Go casual, or go home. Don’t forget the recliners and Cindie’s recliner couch….and the deck.
What looks like wood on the wall, is a reflection in the bathroom medicine cabinet mirror.
My kitchen island is laying on the floor waiting for a second coat of stain. They build all of the cabinets right there onsite.


Mayor Beasterhop went to bed with a cold wet cloth resting on his head.

Tomorrow is just a day away. Just like in that Broadway play.

And I haven’t seen hide nor hare of a Beastertown bunny anywhere.

Will they try to call my bluff? Haven’t I suffered quite enough?

I will follow Murdo Girl wherever she may go. There isn’t an ocean too deep or a mountain so high it will keep me away….even Beaster Hill…unless there’s another way.

“Hmm…can we talk?” His dear Bunny requested. “Don’t tackle this until you’ve rested.

Or you won’t be worth one nickel. Remember, you are the rabbit that rides a bicycle.


Beastertown, is wherever you may go, and there is something else you should know. 


To leave Murdo Girl would be absurd. For you couldn’t utter another word.”

“You have a point,” said the Beasterhop. “She even gave me a Beasterhop hop.”


To be continued. Pictures of the tiny abode at the destination location, tomorrow….

We will have more of Faith-Hope and Essie-Ellie next week…



Murdo Girl…Essie-Ellie meets Faith-Hope

I’m on my way to Pearl’s rooms above the store. Something is up. I know this because Pearl said she would still be at home when I arrived and it was very important that I be on time…As if I was ever late. If I’m going to be late for something, I don’t go. That’s just the way I am. I’m usually so early, I’m tired of where I am before all the rest of the people even get there. If you can read me, I’m mad! I’m pretty sure I’m going to get blamed for what happened, yesterday. It might have been a little bit my fault, but I still shouldn’t get blamed because I’m not quite emotionally old enough to fully understand what I did. I’m a little bit emotionally stunted…yes, that’s it…I’m emotionally stunted. It happens to some kids and it can take time to bring emotionally stunted kids emotions up to speed. I’m more than willing to do the work, but I just need everybody to back off a little.

Well, I’m not there yet, but I almost am.


“Hi Pearl, Hi Pearl the dog, I’m here are you?”

“I said, hi Pearl, hi Pearl the dog, I’m here, are you?” They must be over at Grace’s. I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to go over there this morning.

“Hi, Grace, hi Pearl the dog, I’m here, are you.”

“Come on down the hall. Grace and I are in her room.”

I did not know that voice, but I went down the hall and was about to open the door to Grace’s room when someone opened it from the other side. It was a girl. She was really pretty and she looked pretty old…maybe twenty-three.

“Hi,” she said. “You must be Essie-Ellie. I’m Faith-Hope and I’m glad to finally meet you. Aunt Grace finally fell asleep. Let’s go wait for Grams in her kitchen. I could really use a good cup of coffee.”


“You are Pearl the human’s granddaughter! You came here to straighten everything out didn’t you, Faith-Hope? Wow that was fast!” I started to explain my side of the situation, but she interrupted me.

“Heavens no, Essie-Ellie. I’m not crazy enough to try to make sense of anything Grams and Aunt Grace do. Why do you think I live so far away? I’m crazy about both of them, but I’m not crazy like them. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

I couldn’t believe this cool older girl was offering me coffee. She seemed so…polished… like a gem. And I was pretty sure her emotions weren’t stunted.

“Yes, please,” I said. “I like mine so thick you can stand a spoon up in it. Here’s the sugar and I’ll get the milk from Pearl’s ice box. Would you like me to get some saucers of leftovers out, too?”

“Only if there’s cherry pie in there. I’m sorry Grams made you come over here so early. She ran to the Busy Nest for a minute, but she’ll be right back. Pearl the dog shot out of here like a bullet and jumped right in the pink Cadillac. When did she start riding in the car? She used to hate it.”


“When Grace broke her tailbone, I guess. Did Pearl and Grace tell you what happened yesterday?” I had to get it out. The memory of it was stunting my emotions so much, I was afraid I was going to become downright emotionless.

“Do you mean the little incident with the Methodist Church basement cooks?”

This Faith-Hope was growing on me, but I didn’t want to appear gulpable, so I kept my answer short.


“Sit down and drink your milk and sugar with a little coffee in it. Grams is not going to lose the business of this whole town because you told the church basement cooks her Sunrise Service Tea was made with Tang. Although, it would have been easier for them to swallow if you hadn’t told them the Tang Tea had been specially blessed by John Glenn on his Mercury flight last year. Church ladies aren’t quite ready to think about men in space. It doesn’t sound heavenly to them. I, myself, think with the sun, and the stars and the oceans and the heavens…It all makes perfect sense.

Don’t worry about it, Essie-Ellie. Just like everything else in this town, it will all blow over and Grams will be onto something new anyway. Have you seen her Pearl’s Girls?”

“Thanks, Faith-Hope. I just can’t lose my job at Pearl’s Busy Nest. It’s all I have in this world to keep me interested in the lives of others. You dress cute. Pearl says you attended college long enough to be a brain surgeon. Are you a doctor?”

“No, I live in California now. I own Pilgrim’s Bakery. (Just kidding.)

wp-1521674024314.jpg I’m a fashion designer. I guess you could say I get my fashion style from Grams…But please don’t.


Murdo Girl…Ellie, Grace, and Pearl the dog

Correction: Ellie/Essie

Well, I’m on my way over to Pearl the human’s to take Pearl the dog for a walk. But guess what? I don’t have to spend the day worrying about Grace and her donut pillow. Remember, she fell off her new shoes and broke her tailbone. Pearl doesn’t make a whole lot of mistakes, but when she talked Grace into giving up her little black flats held on with  rubber bands, she caused us trouble like you’ve never seen, before.

On the face of her, Grace is a pretty tolerable elderly lady, but if she’s in pain, her sweet demeaness goes right out the window. The lady downstairs at Sanderson’s Store was convinced Pearl and I were torturing Grace. What did she think we would do? Burn her with one of Pearl’s air cigarettes?

Pearl and I were in discomfort, too. Grace was simpering and in need day and night for days and nights. I sure hope she’s doing better, today. 

Pearl told me I was to make sure Grace was propped up on her side and had everything she would need to get her through the day, and then I could go on over to Pearl’s Busy Nest and help her fill the little blue bottles with Elixerfixer. The busy season is upon us, and we need to be ready.


Grace is able to get up and use the bathroom, but it’s just really hard on us to watch her make that trip down the hall.

Well, I’m not there yet, but I almost am.


“Hi Grace, Hi Pearl the dog…I’m here. Are you?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! We are here!” I heard Grace loud and clear, but I didn’t hear a whimper out of Pearl the dog. She had to be dying to get outside. I was sure I would have to yank her collar and beg to get her to come back in to spend the day with Grace. I felt bad, but not bad enough to stick around any longer than I had to. I mean, do I look stupid?


“Hi, Grace. Where is Pearl the dog? Is she hiding under your bed?”

“Oh, Ellie. You can see her from here. She’s at the kitchen door. She’s just sitting there staring at that door. She’s been like that all morning. She won’t even look at me.”


“Well, I’ll get her to go outside. It’s probably been a while since she went out with Pearl.”

“It hasn’t been that long, Ellie. Pearl had to drop pieces of the leftover meatloaf I was going to have for noon dinner to get her to move. She even had the leash on her, but she wouldn’t budge. The boy who rides the ladder back and forth along the wall to stock the shelves at the store, pushed Pearl the dog’s back-end while Pearl dropped meatloaf. Do you know what I heard him say when they finally got the poor dog inside?

He said, “I’m sorry girl, You’re in for another harrowing day with Miss Graceless. Howl down the vent if she gets too intolerable.”


Doesn’t he have any sympathy for a poor old woman with a slow-healing buttocks?


“Grace, do you remember when Pearl was giving me all those life lessons…like how to convince people to be manipulated without them knowing they were going to do what they never would have done…in the past?”

“I do remember, Ellie. What would Pearl say to do in a case like this?”


“I don’t know for sure, Grace. She got tired of teaching me before we got to understanding the inner-workings of the mind of a boy who rides the ladder up and down the wall stocking shelves at a grocery store. I’ll be back with Pearl the dog in a minute. Is there any meatloaf left?”

I have to admit, I felt slightly bad when I escaped that morning. I was not cut out to be a caretaker. Pearl said Grace really drew the short straw when she got us to nurse her back to health. We even tried Pearl’s Elixerfixer, but that just made for more painful trips down the hall. Pearl said if she’d had a little more adjusting time, it could have been a powerful cure, but Pearl’s just go too many irons in the fire.

She’s concocting a special tea for the Methodist Church basement cooks to serve before the Sunrise Easter Service. It’s guaranteed to make the congregation stick around for the sermon. I’m pretty sure the secret ingredient is Tang. Pearl says vitamin C is a much overlooked pick-me-up.

The Basement Cooks

Right after Easter, Pearl is going to reveal her latest contribution to high society fashion. She will be debutaunting her younger as well as her more mature self in the form of Pearl’s Girls. Every child from here to Sioux Falls and back to Rapid City is sure to beg for one of Pearl’s Girls.


Pearl got really whistful one day when she was talking about being one of Murdo’s first interpinaters.

She said, “Essie, did you know we didn’t have Tang or plastic when I was growing up? Now, those two ingredients are going to keep Pearl’s Busy Nest flying high.”

“Yup,” I said. “Just like those two astronauts who invented them!”

Murdo Girl…Over Beasterhop Hill

With Beastertown all in a fluster, the shining crown was losing it’s luster.

Easter Sunday would soon be here. When would the Easter eggs appear?

The streets of Beastertown were bare. There was no bustling here nor there.

(For goodness sakes…Didn’t they read the book?)

Mayor Beasterhop strolled outside. He knew he must forgo his pride.

There was no use getting all emotional. The tiny house transfer was non-negotiable.

Mrs. Beasterhop said, “You might find this surprising, but I’m cool with downsizing!”


“I’m tired of hoeing carrots and lettuce. We need not let this move upset us.”

Mayor Beasterhop looked at his dear, Bunny. Was she serious or being funny?

wp-1521513233827.jpgHe said, “What about Beastertown? The city with the shining crown?

I’ve tried to talk to every rabbit. But move?…They just won’t have it!”

Mrs. Beasterhop smiled.

“Do you fear you’ll take a spill, if you ride your bike up Beasterhop Hill?”

To be continued…

Kip watching the progress on the RV Port.

I’m still just visiting at the factory. They will be moving me onto the lot, Thursday or Friday


Backslash up in the kitchen…ceiling light and fan in living room

Paper towel holder on sale for $3…I didn’t get it!

Murdo Girl…A belated top of the morning to you

PG: Ring, ring…hey KK, how much does it cost to put an ad in the paper?

KK: Five bucks an inch. Why? What are you selling?

PG: A ten foot ladder…(click)

KK: Hey PG…did you hear about the call old Mr. O’Leary got from the Doc? He had good news and bad news.

PG: What was the good news, KK?

KK: The doc told old Mr O’Leary he only had 24 hours to live.

PG: Begosh and begoshan, KK! What was the bad news?

KK: Behuh? That’s just what old Mr. O’ Leary asked him.

PG: Boil me a potato and tell me what the doc said, already!!

KK: He said, “The bad news is, I’ve been trying to contact you since yesterday.

PG: Hey, KK…What do you call an Irish man on a couch?

KK: Oh, I don’t know…Paddy O’Furniture?

Sad, huh? Wanna play Irish frisbee? I learned it from me da…

Murdo Girl…Teeny and tiny troubles

Tiny troubles continue…….

“In Beastertown we’re all a whirl. Why must we go with Murdo Girl? We know she took the time to name us, and wrote a book that made us famous. Sheesh!”

Mayor Beasterhop tried to calm the crowd. “We will not go,” they all vowed.

“Why should we be all excited…plus! Who, indeed, invited us?”

Mayor Beasterhop grew tired of shouting. Why did these rabbits insist on doubting?

Had he not always told the truth, protected all old hares and youth?

“Life will be good,” he said. “We’ll be in a tiny house, not dead!”

“Come to think of it, there is a shed. Maybe we’ll reside there, instead.”


“Where is this place we’ve never been? Do they have Easter? If so… then when?”

Mayor Beasterhop stood still, and then he looked toward Beaster Hill.


A hush came over Beastertown. The city with the shining crown.

The rabbits followed their mayor’s gaze. They couldn’t see much through the haze.

“What is he looking for?” They whispered. Their kind Mayor said not a word.

Instead he walked toward his own house. He wished to see, Bunny, his spouse.

Did she lack faith in his vision, and disagree with his decision?

They had so many mouths to feed. Would a tiny house be all they need?

As he continued up the pathway, he picked his love a pretty bouquet.

His garden…so full of glorious splendor. At the sight of it, his heart grew tender.

The country bunnies stayed the night. Tomorrow they would fight the fight. The city rabbits didn’t care. They had no wish to split a hare.



When the sun comes up they’ll see the light. The tiny home will be all right. 

I will post more pictures with descriptions, tomorrow.

We had an eventful evening at the teeny RV. Kip was working on the door, and the cat got out. We finally coaxed her out from under the motor home. Sheesh!

This is Dollie prior to the escape.














Murdo Girl…Don’t bet your Easter hat

There’s a tiny new  development in Beastertown


Bunnies came from miles around to hear the Mayor of Beastertown.

Rumors spread as wild as fire, and the bunny tales grew increasingly dire.

“Easter is just weeks away.” We heard the fearful rabbits say.


“We have eggs to color and hide… baskets to make and bows to be tied.”

 Yet, on they hopped without a stop. They couldn’t disappoint Mayor Beasterhop.

“Curiosity might have killed the cat, but you can bet your Easter hat… 

Camilla with a headache

Mayor Beasterhop won’t let us down. He’ll protect our Beastertown.” 


The country bunnies arrived at the square, and the town rabbits offered them a chair.

There were more hares than you could count, and curiosity continued to mount.

Something stirred within the crowd and the mumbling became quite loud.

“What could all this bad news be? Is Beastertown in jeopardy?

Have they cancelled Easter morning? Who could do that without warning?

Let us continue our preparations. We bring joy to God’s creations.”


The Beasterhop entered the square. He saw all of Beastertown quietly stare, as he walked up to the podium.

 He began to fear pandemonium would run a muck. 

Didn’t rabbit feet bring good luck? 

He thought a minute, before he said, “We have a great adventure ahead!”

The rabbits all looked quite perplexed. They waited for what would come next.

“Remember little Murdo girl? The one with curl upon curl?

She’s the one who thought us up. She told our story when she grew up.

She’s taking us from this dreadful storage to a tiny house…now that takes courage.

Please go on home and bust your keister. Get ready to move right after Easter.”


This is our house. We saw it today. More pictures tomorrow. 



Murdo Girl…No Cigar

I wrote this song for Billy and his cigar smoking friends in Arizona.

This song can be sung to the tunes of, I walk the Line, He’s an Old Hippy, and Grandma got run over by a Reindeer. I was going to try to put it all together, but I don’t have a year.

Smoke one for Dad, Billy – here is the chorus.

No Cigar

If you didn’t see him enter
but you knew that he was here
If you see a ring of smoke around his beer
If he catches your eye and heads your way to say hi
and you hope the smoke will make him disappear


He’s doing fine so far, but no cigar
He can belly up to the bar but no cigar.

Cigar smoking buddies are elite
and they don’t drink a drink unless it’s neat


He can stick around and listen
to their stories and repeats
if he never mentions one of his own feats
Cigar smokers are precocious…often braggadocios
but they don’t identify with athletes

He’s doing fine so far, but no cigar
He can belly up to the bar but no cigar

Cigar smoking buddies are elite
and they don’t drink a drink that isn’t neat


If he was born in the forties,
smoked cigars since he was two
and says he much prefers to smoke a Louixs
He opens his cigar box, and they know they have been outfoxed
when he says here’s a Liouxs for each of you

He’s doing fine so far, but no cigar
He can belly up to the bar but no cigar

Cigar smoking buddies are elite
and they don’t drink a drink that isn’t neat

The cigar smoking buddies
hesitate and then debate ….maybe they should re-evaluate

They say, sit down over here… let us buy you a beer
We almost made a terrible mistake

They’ll all belly up to the bar and smoke cigars

They’ll talk about when they were football stars

They’ll chase elite, neat drinks down with a beer

and invite the new guy back each time he’s here

They’ll recall the lazy days of way back when

Their buddies were cool cats, and nerds were finks

They’ll sing all the old songs once again

and pour themselves elite, but sloppy drinks

And they’ll smoke cigars til everybody stinks


Murdo Girl…Lav gives her all

Murdo Girl

Hey MG readers! I’m almost finished with my project and I will most likely post it this evening. In the meantime, here is another rerun. I hope I’m not the only one who gets a chuckle out of the Brick House campaign for Next Pres, stories.

I’ve been all over the place haven’t I? I’ve written a couple of Murdo/History/camera stories, Beastertown, Pearl, and of course tiny home updates. We’re only a few weeks away from occupying our new tiny mansion, so updates will be forthcoming. You will love it! Maybe I will be able to stay more focused once we are all settled in. Thank you for your enduring patience!

The following has been edited. Who says you can’t rewrite the past?


It’s Saturday night at the Coyote County Convention. The keynote speaker is Lav Yekcel. Head for the platform Lav and make your anytime minutes count.

1-Your Highness ValerieLav…

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Murdo Girl…Close, but no cigar

I realize this is a little out of the ordinary for an MG blog, but I’m going to share it with you, anyway. It’s a rough draft of a song I’m writing for a special group of guys. I haven’t found the right music yet, but I’m open to suggestions for the song and soundtrack. 

I’m messing with these guys a little.

Maybe the soundtrack could be along the lines of this:



If you didn’t see him coming, but you knew that he was here

If you saw a ring of smoke around his beer

If he saunters on over and he smells familiar

If he has a crooked smile and one lopped ear

He’s doing fine so far, but no cigar

He can belly up to the bar but no cigar.

He can stay a while and listen to their stories

but cigar smoking buddies are elite

You can’t just smoke any old stoggie

And you can’t pour a drink that isn’t neat

He’s doing fine so far, but no cigar

He can belly up to the bar, but no cigar.

Cigar smokers might be braggadocious

But they don’t identify as athletes

You might say they’re precocious

If you miss their story there will be repeats.

He ‘s doing fine so far, but no cigar

He can belly up to the bar, but no cigar

If he tells you he was born in the forties

And he’s been smoking cigars since he was eight

If he opens up a box and offers you a Cuban

maybe you should re-evaluate


They’ll all belly up to the bar and smoke cigars

They’ll tell him they were all football stars

They’ll chase elite, neat drinks down with a beer

and invite the new guy back each time he’s here