This is your man on the street reporter with another report. You remember me…I’m Yram Sicnarf. I have been given another assignment to interview a Murdo High School faculty member. His name is Harold Thune with a bunch of other stuff.

 

Yram: Good morning Harold. May I call you Mr. Thune?

Mr. Thune: Mr. Thune is my father’s name, and also my brother’s name. In addition, I have four sons who are Mr. Thunes. I am the only Thune however, with the distinction of having an auditorium named after him. I also have a son with a sign. That’s how most people tell us apart. Now what was your question?

Yram: Okey dokey. I’m here on an assignment to interview you. I am an award-winning reporter, from Gun Barrel City, Texas. Our slogan is, “We Shoot Straight.”

Mr. Thune: I’m not quite sure how to answer that question.

Yram: What question?

Mr. Thune: So now you want me to ask the questions?

Yram: You’re trying to confuse me aren’t you Mr. Thune. I know all about your wily ways. Does the name Murdo Girl mean anything to you?

Mr. Thune: Catchy name, but I don’t believe I know her.

Yram: Can we please take a look back to an Algebra class say in,  66-67? The Murdo Girl I’m speaking of is stunningly talented. She apparently regards you very highly Mr. Thune. She said you were an excellent Algebra teacher. Fortunately, she took Physical Education from you as well.

Mr. Thune: Fortunately?

Yram: Let me explain. Murdo Girl has had no use for Algebra, but thanks to your expertise in Physical Education training, she is still able to walk and lift heavy objects. Have all your students been so successful?

Mr. Thune: Let’s dial this back a little. Are you telling me this Murdo Girl has never had to solve for X?  I think I know who you’re talking about. Her mother flunked Algebra right? Of course that was way before my time. I’m fairly certain Murdo Girl took two years of Algebra. She should be able to solve for X  AND Y.

Yram: Well, to be perfectly honest Mr. Thune with an auditorium named after him and a son with a sign, Murdo Girl hasn’t solved a problem in years, and FYI, her Mother did not fail Algebra. Algebra failed her.

Mr. Thune: I will say, having  Murdo Girl in PE class was certainly unforgettable.

Yram: (smiling), Really?

Mr. Thune: I don’t believe she ever did wash her gym suit. Four years is a long time.

Yram: I’m writing

Mr. Thune: Well Miss Sicnarf, I would really like to say this has been fun…but I can’t.

Yram: You can’t what? Oh, never mind. Can you tell me where I can find Coach Applebee?

Mr. Thune: No..because I’m going to help him hide.

 

His name is Philip Olson, he is 9 years old and I intensely dislike him.

We have some friends who live in Rapid City. The Dad has a plumbing business. I guess since my Dad does too, that’s how we met them. The Olson’s have four kids, Philip is way younger than the others. Mom said they got him by accident.

Last summer I got to spend a week at their house in Rapid. I loved it. Their only girl, Linda was gone, and I got to stay in her beautiful bedroom. Its really big and all decorated in pale pink. One wall has a huge curved window. The house is in a hilly place where a lot of rich people live. They have some friends up the hill from them who have a humongous swimming pool. Philip and I rode bikes up there every day to go swimming. We did other stuff too. Philip’s Mom took us to the Reptile Gardens where they have turtles so big you can ride them. All the way home, I kept visualizing it. I couldn’t wait to brag about it to my cousins. I was pretty sure they would hang on my every word.

This year I got to do the same thing, and it was fun all over again. I bet you’re starting to wonder why I intensely dislike Philip. Here is how it all went down.

This year, Mom and Dad decided that since Philip’s parents had invited me twice, it didn’t seem right not to invite Philip to our house for a week. When Mom came and got me to go home to Murdo, Philip came too.

The minute we pulled up in our driveway Philip changed. It was an awful thing to witness. We could only eat what Philip wanted to eat. We could only watch TV if Philip wanted to, and then we could only watch the shows he liked. We only have one channel, so if Philip didn’t like what was on, we all had to do something else. Dad even gave up Gunsmoke! He was making fools out of my Mother and Father. They laughed at stuff he said that wasn’t one bit funny. Mom was acting like I had never seen before. She would say things like, “Oh Philip, your face is flushed, would you like a cold glass of kool-aid?”

I know they are hiding from us because they don’t like Philip

I could have lived with all of that, but he got to be the boss of my horse too. We have Governor picketed in a field behind Lindquist’s house. Governor put up with Philip even though he hates males. Its my job to go move the picket when Governor needs more grass to eat, and I have to tell Mom or Dad when he needs water. I had to do all that plus saddle and unsaddle Governor when Philip got a whim to ride, which was about four times a day. My cousins played with us for part of one day. I guess they’d had enough of him too, because the next day we couldn’t find them. They hid from us. I know they did. If it weren’t for Philip I would have been the Murdo kid celebrity like last year when I got home.

When Philip leaves, I’m going to have a talk with Mom and Dad. This can never happen again!

Tomorrow is finally the last day of this horrendous arrangement. This morning when I wasn’t looking, Philip left with Governor. I went to find someone to see where he had gone. Dad was in the kitchen on the phone with Philip’s Dad. I heard my Dad say,” He’s riding the pony up to 3rd Street and back.” Philip’s Dad must have said “Murdo’s streets don’t have numbers do they?”  Dad said, “No.” Then he laughed like it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. Dad must be hard up for stories, that’s all I can say.

Well, Philip’s parents came and got him today. Mom went on and on about what an angel he had been and maybe next year he could stay for two weeks. If that happens, Governor and I will find somewhere else to live or I might slap Philip silly. I already have to ask for forgiveness, because I asked God to drop a piano on Philip’s head.

Philip and his parents backed out of the driveway and I was very happy to see him getting smaller and smaller, and finally disappear. I could breathe again. I turned around thinking this would be a good time to have “the talk” with Mom and Dad. I looked but they weren’t there, so I figured they must have gone back inside.

Mom was laying on the couch with a cold cloth on her head. She didn’t even open her eyes. She said, “Have you ever ??”

Dad was sitting in his chair puffing and puffing on his cigar. “Unbelievable,” he said.

When I shut the door, they both jumped to their feet. Mom said, “Good Lord, I thought he’d come back!” Dad started laughing his head off, for real this time.

I probably won’t be going back to Rapid City next summer, but I would rather have Governor and Murdo all to myself than a beautiful pale pink bedroom and just big turtles to ride.

.

 

 

 

Mom thinks that I complain too much. That really isn’t true.

I’m happy with a lot of things, if you want my point of view.

She said if I was seated upon a pot of gold

It would take me just a minute to find the pot too cold.

I’ll give you one example, though I have quite a few,

I’ve always told my Mother I hate her homemade stew.

Tonight I had a bowl full, and I ate every drop.

I didn’t even tell Mom her recipe’s a flop.

She said it was Bonna’s stew, as I tried to get it down.

I said,” Well that explains it. It’s been all over town.”

Bonna, Kitty, Elna, and Mom make casseroles galore

They’re the food swap ladies like you’ve never seen before.

We all sit at our tables and stare at empty plates.

My brother runs the food around while everybody waits.

Will we have Mom’s beans tonight with Kitty’s southern cornbread?

Or  Elna’s tuna noodle dish that her kids have all been fed?

The food swap ladies method works , with just one small exception

One they didn’t think about upon the plan’s conception.

When Billy walks through the door with his heavy sack,

We’ve said a prayer Mom doesn’t get her own leftovers back!

 

 

 

 

I apologize that my stories have come at odd times the last couple of days. It’s my plan to post Murdo Girl between 7 and 9 each evening, beginning Saturday. I have really enjoyed writing about my Murdo memories. I hope you’re getting a smile or two as well.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I dream about the cabin. When I’m awake it’s now past tense.

I seek to make it come alive in a way that still makes sense.

I’ll remember how my heart felt, when Grandpa’s car topped that last hill.

The days that loomed before me would be safe, and sane, and still.

I will think about togetherness and all the fun we had.

When we lost the stringer with the fish, Grandpa never did get mad.

My stomach started growling, I wished I hadn’t seen ’em

I think Grandpa’s got a secret. He didn’t want to clean them.

I looked to see what Grandma thought, what food would we prepare?

I looked into her smiling eyes, and could see she didn’t care.

We packed up in a hurry. Together we’re a team.

We headed for the cabin, boy I really like this dream.

Right then I heard,” Wake up Mary,” I wanted to say hush.

Cause we were cozy in the cabin, cooking cornmeal  mush.

I snoozed for 5 more minutes, I had dreamed most of my wishes.

I woke up just as it was time to do the dirty dishes.

They say that most dreams don’t come true, they’re only for pretending.

They don’t know I lived that dream, with its syrupy happy ending.

 

The following is an excerpt from an exclusive interview with retiring Jones County High School teacher, Margie Peters.

This exclusive interview did in fact take place. Even if it didn’t, it’s all true.

Yram Sicnarf: Good morning Margie. May I call you Mrs. Peters?

Mrs. Peters: Whatever floats your boat.

Yram Sicnarf: Let me introduce myself. My name is Yram Sicnarf and I’m an award-winning reporter out of Gun Barrel City, Texas. Please call me Yram.

Mrs. Peters: Gun Barrel City?

Yram: Yes, it’s a little town, South of Riffle Butt, and East of Slingshot, but that’s all you need to know… Mrs. Peters, out of the thousands of students who have excelled under your tutelage, is there any one particular student, who because of your influence, has risen to greater heights than those less fortunate?

Mrs. Peters: Oh, my goodness Miss Sicnarf from Gun Barrel, that’s really a loaded question. (No pun intended.) I hate to single out any one student, but I will say the whole town is extremely proud of Senator John Thune. I’m sure you must have heard of him.

Yram: Yes, yes, I’ve seen the sign. Maybe it would help if we narrowed it down a little. Let’s say the class of 1970. To tunnel down even further, think female!

Mrs. Peters: Well yes, that certainly narrows it down doesn’t it? Hmm, let me think…

The sound of crickets

Yram: I recently interviewed a stunningly talented young lady who was very complimentary of your influence. She goes by …Murdo Girl.

More crickets

Yram: Yes, Murdo Girl idolized you. She told me she credits you with the success of every one of her careers.

Mrs. Peters: Careers? You mean she’s had more than one?

Yram: Mrs. Peters, we’re here to talk about you. As an aside, Murdo Girl told me that she has never forgotten you…well there was that one time she used your name as a password prompt. The question was, “Who was your favorite teacher?” She had a momentary brain freeze and forgot. It all came back to her when she remembered how you had tricked her in speech class.

Mrs. Peters: Excuse me?

Yram: Yes the topic for the impromptu speech was, “What is an educated woman?”

Mrs. Peters: Ah yes, it’s all coming back to me. I was trying to prompt my students to be more creative. You know, think on their feet. I recall a young woman struggling. She talked about school and college, blah, blah, blah.

Yram: So you admit to setting her up?

Mrs Peters: On the contrary Miss Sicnarf. I hope it was a valuable learning experience for her. An educated woman is a great deal more than…

Yram: I hate to interrupt Mrs. Peters, but I have an interview in a few minutes with the Senator’s father, Mr. Thune. Let’s wrap it up with this question. Do you really feel it’s important to know how to diagram sentences? I mean, how many times is an employer going to ask you to diagram a sentence?

Mrs. Peters: I can’t believe you just asked me that. I’m sure this Miss Murdo Girl you speak of, has to know the importance of using proper grammar. Knowing how to write and speak properly is part of being an educated woman. Knowing how a sentence is structured teaches the correct usage of nouns, verbs, adjectives, and adverbs. Some are unable to snag a good job because they don’t know a conjugated verb when they see one. I notice you always use first person.

Yram: I see…Does it help to use a lot of pictures? Never mind. I’m off to see Mr. Thune. Miss Murdo Girl has never had to use Algebra either.

Mrs. Peters: It’s very nice to have met you Miss Sicnarf. Don’t you want to take a picture before you go? I would suggest you take several.

I don’t see the sign. Do you see the sign?

“Oh here’s for Murdo Coyotes, they’re bound to win .(fight fight fight).(blank) like a stone wall, guards and forwards, all around to win for Murdo..let us cheer them forward, never give in.( fight, fight, fight).(blank, blank) for victory for we shall win.

I don’t want to write too many stories about cheerleading, but I have a couple of comments and a question about our school song. First of all, I wish we had a song with some pep to it. Secondly, it’s a weird song to sing at a football game, because it’s all about guards and forwards. Maybe I don’t like it because I don’t know all the words. Would someone please fill in the blanks for me.

I know I should be embarrassed and I am.

Before and After…You Go Queen, but next time ditch your crown for a helmet!!

The following Murdo Coyote discussion with Bob Brewer took place in 1964

Next, I want to talk about the Murdo Coyote. Remember last summer when I went out to California? Well, one of Billy’s roommates Bob, who’s not from Murdo, started talking about The Murdo Coyote. He said, “Look, they call people Finks right in the newspaper.” I said, “They’re not calling them a name. That is their name.” You know the Lindquist girls? Their Mom is a Fink. Ronni Poppe is a Fink too. They have another sister Norma, who’s a Fink, and I believe there is one Fink brother. (Norma is a real hoot.) Anyway, I told Bob that there is a bunch of Finks and they’re all really nice people. I don’t think I ever did get him to understand. He’s a ratfink.

Next he said, “The Coyote is always saying someone motored somewhere. Why don’t they say, they drove?”

“What’s wrong with motored? Instead of saying the same old drove word that everybody else uses, they say motored .”

The last thing I listened to him talk about was regarding the paper not always giving the last names. He showed me an example. “Mable and May motored to Pierre, and got their hair done, after which, they stopped and had coffee. A good time was had by all.” He wanted to know what they put in the paper if “all” didn’t have a good time?

I told him he was just being difficult. Everyone knows who Mable and May are, and I’m pretty sure they always have a good time when they go to Pierre.”  I didn’t say this to Bob, but I hope Mable meant to put the part in the paper about getting her hair done in Pierre. If the beauty shop operators in Murdo read that, it could start a real fuss.

Further more, It would be as bad as when Mom and Kitty went to Rapid City to take Kitty to the doctor, and Doctor Murphy’s wife Florence decided to go with them. They didn’t want Doc and Florence to feel bad, so they went through all kinds of stuff so she wouldn’t find out Kitty was cheating with another doctor . It would have been a disaster if that would have hit the Murdo Coyote.

A good time would not have been had by all.

I know something else that’s newsworthy, but certain people might not want it in The Murdo Coyote. Last Halloween night, (blank), who is a boy in the grade ahead of me, went to the Ford Garage in Murdo and let the air out of all the tires. He walked home and went to bed. He started feeling guilty, so he got out of bed and went back to the Ford Garage and started airing the tires all up again. That’s when he got caught.

The lady said I have to write 1000 words, but if you read the whole article from The Murdo Coyote about Judy Dykstra’s Mom giving a report on Africa to the ladies at the Progressive Study Club, I’ll have way more than 1000 words; besides, it’s very interesting.

Don’t miss the second write up below the Africa report.

Congratulations to Larry Weigandt, and Warren Broecher, for being named to the Southern State College marching band. I hope Judy Dykstra reads this. She won’t feel so bad that Larry kept beating her out of first chair.

**Billy told me Bob Brewer never misses an edition of The Murdo Coyote, and he reads it front to back!

I’m just going to warn you, that from now on, the Murdo Girl stories will be nonlinear. It depends on what she remembers. It will however, have taken place in her lifetime. The photos will be random too. it’s possible they won’t have anything to do with the story. Are you ready?

___________________________________________________________________

Mom and I were filling the pop machine at the Motel this morning and two of Gertie Smith’s kids came over. (They live in a house that’s real close to #10.) They usually show up when we’re filling the machine because sometimes Mom gives them a free pop. Mom calls Sandy, probly I’ll have grape, because that’s what she always says. I spelled probably the way Sandy says it. Anyway, probly I’ll have grape, brought her older brother Danny with her today. He had some very bad news. He said, “Did you hear they shot Leonard King?” Mom and I both stood there with our mouths hanging open. Danny didn’t know who shot him, but apparently the shot was fatal. For those of you who don’t know Leonard King, he used to be our sheriff.

Well, Mom got right on the phone trying to get the scoop. I’ll bet half the town thought Leonard King had been shot and killed before someone who had been watching the news told Mom that Leonard King was fine. It was Martin Luther King who had been shot. Not that it isn’t still a terrible thing, because it is.

Dad has switched television shows again. Now he likes Hee Haw. He particularly loves one song they sing. “I searched the world over and I thought I found true love, but you met another and thptpth you were gone.” (thptpth is how you spell the razzberry sound.) He laughs his head off at that show. It is kind of funny when they pop up in the cornfield and say funny stuff. I guess since I don’t dance in front of the TV anymore, Dad feels it’s safe to watch shows with music in them again.

Marlene found a lady that will sew our dresses for us. All we have to do is buy the material and pattern and she makes the dress for only $10.00. She’s pretty fast and good too. It took me a couple of tries to realize that what I picture in my head, isn’t always the way it’s going to look finished. I found a pattern I just loved. It was kind of a flowing shift style and it had a white collar. When I went to buy the pretty blue and white fabric, I was shocked at how much it took, but I had to have it.

When the dress was all done, the flowing part was so huge, I pratically had to take three steps before the dress even moved. The sewing lady tried to fix it, but it never did turn out right. On the next try, I decided to play it safer, and I chose a pattern for a jumper that I saw a Noname girl in my Chemistry class wearing. Her Mom had made hers, so I looked and looked until I finally found the same pattern. I had it made out of red material. Miss Noname showed up at a school function with her jumper on, and I had mine on too. I got so scared she’d be mad at me for copying her dress, I kept my coat on the whole time. On the 3rd try I had a dress made like one of Marlene’s, because she didn’t care. I didn’t end up saving any money since I could only wear one out of three dresses.

Mom says patience is not my middle name, and it continues to cost me a lot of money. Remember those loafers I bought in Kennebec? They were identical to Josephine’s, but a size too big. I tried everything to keep them on my feet. I wore thick socks and stuffed the toes and everything. I still couldn’t keep them on. I should have asked Josephine if they run big. I want to go back to Kennebec and see if they got my size in, but right now I’m out of money. (I saw a little elderly lady about Grandma’s size the other day. She had pumps on and they must have been too big, because she was keeping them on with rubber bands.)

I hope some day I learn what my style is. It’s too hard to keep copying everyone else. Besides that, by the time I copy their clothes and hairstyles, they switch to another style that I like better too.

*************************************************************************

Since I was out of money. I decided to apply for a job as a waitress at the Skelly Truck Stop.  Well, I got hired. I had no idea how hard waitress work is. I was waiting on everybody sitting at one of the U-shaped counters, and I thought everything was going fine, until one guy said, “Hey! This isn’t what I ordered.” Another guy sitting on the other side, said, “Shut up and eat it, and be glad you got anything.” I had switched their orders, and they were eating each other’s food.

Anyway, I didn’t last long. They didn’t exactly fire me, but let me put it this way…nobody begged me to stay. As Mom always says, “Come back when you can’t stay so long.”

 

 

 

Well, it’s now the countdown to the reunion. I always make sure two things happen before I head out for a family, work, school or any other type of get together with people I haven’t seen for a while. Number one, I make sure I gain at least 10 lbs. and two, I get a bad haircut. I got the bad haircut yesterday. Just ask my friend Pat, who always tells me the truth. It looks almost as bad as the basketball players who took a pocket knife and cut their hair so Coach Applebee would let them practice..

Anyway, I haven’t bought any new clothes yet. I’m waiting until I’ve gained all the weight. 

I was going to end the blog this week-end with the promised Grand Finale, about the Sanderson Christmas, but I decided you all wouldn’t mind if I grew up a little more first. Once a Murdo Girl, always a Murdo Girl.

_________________________________________________________________

What is the worst job you ever had? The longest and best job in my employment history lasted 16 years. The worst and shortest lasted 2 hours. It should have only been 15 minutes. I was a hangar clerk.

Do you know what a hangar clerk is or does? Me neither. I’ll get back to that.

Many times, when someone asked Mom how I was doing, she would say, “She’s just as happy as if she had good sense.” More often than not, she was right on the money.

I worked at the Motel until one day the President/owner of the Draper State Bank asked Mom if she thought I’d be interested in a job at the bank. He told her he needed to hire an “outsider,” because everyone in Draper was related to each other in one way or another, and they didn’t want any “insider,” to know their business. So I got my first big break, because I wasn’t related to any of those rich farmers and ranchers who had all the money. I’ve always been lucky that way.

I’ve never been much of a gossip, so it worked out well for the town and me. Mr. Hayes was right. Back then, we hand sorted all the checks every day. As we put them all in alphabetical order, we knew who had been on a shopping spree in Pierre, and how much they spent. We knew  who had been frequenting the bars, and who couldn’t pay the bills because we were going to have to bounce their check. If someone had a car or house payment, we knew how much that was too. A savings account for Christmas? A tax refund or did they have to pay in?

There was no such thing as a credit report. With all the above information, Keith and Leroy knew who had the means and/or the character to repay a loan. The  handshake agreements meant something then.

After I had worked at the bank a few months, Mom asked Mr. Hayes how I was working out. He told her he wished he had two of me. Her response was, “Is she that slow?” This from someone who thought I didn’t deserve the agreed upon amount per room, because it didn’t take me long enough to clean it. I learned from the best Mom.

A couple of years later, I left the bank and moved to Wyoming. I called my friend Karen, who was working at the Okaton State Bank, and told her about the job. She was another “outsider.” Karen worked at the Draper bank for about 50 or 75 years.

After moving to Wyoming, I decided to try something besides banking, and applied for and got the hangar clerk position at a power plant. I showed up that first day and was escorted to a small trailer with two desks in it. The girl who I was replacing handed me a hard hat, and introduced me to the guy who occupied the other desk. It took me about 2 minutes to form the opinion that he was a sleaze, and another 2 minutes for him to prove me right.

I should have left then, but I still wanted to know what a hangar clerk was. My trainer, walked me the short distance to the office of this humongous operation. She told me there were only 4  other females working at the plant, and they could all hunt bear with a stick.

Well, to make a long two hours short, I took the first opportunity I had to escape. I walked out to my car, put my hard hat on the hood of the car next to mine, and after I picked up my son at the babysitter’s, I drove home. When I walked in the door, the phone was ringing. It was the very nice man who had hired me. (Not the sleaze.) “Where did you go?” He asked. It should have been obvious that I had gone home? What I said was, “That job isn’t for me.”

About a week later, when I got home from my new bank job, there was a check in the mail from the power plant for $14.00. I was extremely offended when I noticed, “Not eligible for rehire,” was typed on the pay stub.

A few years later, I had worked my way up to manager of the real estate lending department at a small bank. One day, the man who had hired me and sent me the “Not eligible for rehire” check  walked into my office. He had changed jobs too and now worked for a real estate developer. We ended up doing quite a bit of business together. I could tell he was going to be a gentleman and not say anything about my leaving the power plant without giving more than 2 minutes notice.

One day, I just couldn’t stand it any longer. I said, “I’ve been wanting to ask you about something. What exactly is a hangar clerk?” He said it had something to do with plans and specs. Then he added, “Don’t worry about it, that job wasn’t for you.”

 

A couple of days ago, I had dinner with a friend of 15 plus years. She has been reading the stories written by our miss Murdo Girl. She made the comment that she really didn’t recall that much about her growing up years. She said, “Mom gave us some paper dolls and said go play.” I’m curious about this. How many memories of growing up do most people have?

_________________________________________________________________

When I have to take a test, I love multiple choice, or true or false questions. Even if you don’t know a thing, you can still get lucky.

We actually have a guidance counselor now. He is trying to help us figure out our strengths and weaknesses in terms of choosing a career. When I met with him, we went over all my grades and he had few ideas for me. He suggested I would excel at being an airline stewardess. I really like the idea of travelling and all that, but I’m not sure I’m cut out to fly the friendly skies for a living.

I also have no desire to work on a cruise ship. The vastness of all that water to drown in, doesn’t appeal to me at all. I can’t think of one single way to flourish in a career that involves travel. I guess I could be a bus driver; assuming I’ll get better at turning. (That’s a reference to yesterday’s paper.)

Next time I visit with the guidance counselor, I’ll ask him if he knows anyone who has been hypnotized to overcome their fears of flying and cruising. If that’s not a possibility, we’re going to have to pursue another train of thought. Oh..now that’s an idea! I could travel by train!

Anyway, we’re all going to Pierre next week to take the ACT test. The results are supposed to give a pretty good indication of what professions we have an aptitude for. Also, the higher the score the better chance you have of getting into a good college.

In the meantime, we’re taking the “Betty Crocker Homemaker of Tomorrow” test. The one that scores the highest gets a pin on awards night.

The beauty of these tests, is there is no way to really study for them. We went to a one day seminar, that suggested ways to bone up for the ACT and SAT tests, but that won’t help us increase our scores that much. I’m sure sometime in the future there will be more and better ways to prepare, but right now that’s really all there is.

THE RESULTS

Mom came home from her Saturday morning coffee at Mack’s Cafe with interesting news. I’m Miss Betty Crocker Homemaker of Tomorrow! What a shock! I don’t know how to cook or anything. Well, that isn’t true. I learned how to make a mean bed cleaning all those motel rooms. I doubt that I’ll ever be a good cook. It seems really difficult to me. You have to know how to get everything done at the same time. Let’s say you’re making pork chops, potatoes and gravy, and corn on the cob. It can’t be that easy to get everything cooked and ready to eat at the same time.

They might teach that sort of thing in home economics. MHS doesn’t offer that class.We went to a basketball game in Martin, and at half time, their cheerleaders took us to see the home economics room. It was like a whole house. It had a huge kitchen and everything.

Anyway, the Betty Crocker test had a lot of questions about sewing and first aid. You all remember my attempts to learn how to sew. It’s a good thing there wasn’t any questions about how to make a dress without sewing the sleeves in backwards. As far as first aid goes, I left my poor little Grandma alone with a wound that was bleeding profusely. Instead of watching over her, I jumped in the car with Grandpa to go find Doctor Murphy.

The only reason I am Miss Betty Crocker Homemaker of tomorrow, is that I’m proficient at eeny, meeny, miney, moe.

When Dad heard about me being Miss Betty Crocker Homemaker of Tomorrow, he said, “Well, I’m not surprised, because she’s always going to do everything, including clean her room,  tomorrow.”

Today is Monday, and I guess my luck is still holding out. The Guidance Counselor called me in to go over the results of my ACT test. He has changed his mind about my  career in travel. He asked me if I had ever considered being  pharmacist.

I know you must think I’m lying, but I swear on a stack of Bibles, this is all true, and I’m not taking  bit of credit for it. When you only have a certain amount of time, true or false is much faster than multiple choice. Another stroke of luck!

Well, my guidance Councilor and I never did come up with the career choice of my future. I’m sure he’s still out there somewhere scratching his head over that one.

You know, now that I think about it, the summer before my Junior year, Mom called me to the phone. Apparently, our Superintendent, Mr. Haugland was going over all the classes everyone had signed up to take the next school year.

He said, “Mary, you signed up for bookkeeping. I am just letting you know that I’m changing that to chemistry.”

I got through Chemistry with B’s and some C’s. I hated every minute of it, but Mr. Haugland was probably right. I’m sure I’ve learned everything I need to know about bookkeeping from my Mom. All those years spent renting rooms at the Chalet Motel have surely given me all I need to know about keeping one or two sets of books.

This I learned from Mom, a woman who failed Algebra in High School.

So..If in the future, if you need a cake baked, or a prescription filled… I’m your girl.