When I retired from what Mom called my “big job,” I found I had very few talents, and believe me I dug deep. I joined women’s groups whose projects I could only admire. They got nothing from me, but I was the beneficiary of some wonderful new friends. They liked me or maybe felt sorry for me. It doesn’t matter, because even though I wasn’t at all “crafty,” they never once asked me to leave. I was beginning to think Mrs. Theissen was right. I was the offspring of a Sanderson woman who never learned how to do anything useful. She of course meant sewing, knitting, crocheting, and these days that would include wood burning, card making, quilting, and all sorts of other crafts.
I was feeling kind of down about it all. Then one Sunday after Church, we went out to breakfast with our usual group of friends. While Kip was paying, my eyes fell on a flyer that was taped to the front of the counter. It said, “Need a compassionate but firm, part-time caregiver for an elderly lady.” For some reason I wrote down the number. In the next few days, I only toyed with the idea of calling. After I thought about it for a while, I decided to call and see what it was all about.
I filled out the application, and passed the drug test and background check. I drove an hour to the agency’s office and watched videos all day about the HIPPA laws and all kinds of things. I was supposed to start the next day. When I left, the Human Resource lady said, “If you are not going to show up, please call us.” I asked her if people actually did that. She said after watching the videos which include how to help a person with some very personal tasks, some decide it isn’t for them and they just don’t show up.
Well, I did show up, and thus was the beginning of a 4 year relationship with a woman who taught me more about life than anyone I have ever known.
I don’t want to write a lot about Mrs. E. just now, but I want to tell you about why I called this story, “What Now.” One cool morning I was rushing around Mrs. E’s house. She operated from her wheelchair, and like I remember my Mom doing, she sometimes turned on the oven and left the oven door down to warm up the kitchen. Well, I usually move first and look where I’m going later. I was standing by the oven, then turned and tripped over the oven door. I didn’t even have time to put my hands out to catch myself. I fell flat on my face. Mrs. E watched the whole thing come down. After she realized we weren’t going to need an ambulance, she just shook her head at me. (Kip asked me if I had damaged her oven door.) I did hurt for a few days, and my nose was skinned up, but I never said a word about it to either of them.
After that incident, whenever she would hear a noise coming from another part of the house that I happened to be in, she would yell, “NOW WHAT!”
So now I’m sitting here with my second cup of coffee, and I’m trying to decide what I should write about today. It’s really more difficult than you might think. Some Murdo Girlers like to read about my childhood days in Murdo. Some like the current stories with Lav, Yram, and Barney. I don’t get a lot of feedback on my poetry, although I myself get a big kick out if it.
I read that if what you write doesn’t make you laugh, cry, or at least smile, others won’t react that way either.
All of the stories I have written about growing up in Murdo have been easy to write, because they were all true, or at least exactly like I remembered them. No one has ever challenged my recollections to the point of accusing me of telling a bold-faced lie. I’ve never really worried that would happen.
It’s pretty easy to write about Lav, Sherri, Carol the singer, Jerry, Barney, Treason, Thelma Lou and Louise, TC, DM, Pico, A I, and Murdo Girl. I also love writing about Yram’s piti-full-of-herself interviews with the teachers and other Murdo residents.
I can’t get a good feel about the current Murdo Matters storyline. I’ve tried to mix it up a little with true stories about my current life, ie. Keyless or Clueless. I get feedback from the blog site that tells me how many readers I have each day. Only about 5% make comments on the Website, Facebook, or Google. It is the ones I hear from that I listen too, and I appreciate your comments very much.
When you come right down to it, I do this because I love it, and I want to have a positive effect on your day. Writing always has a positive effect on me. So I guess it’s worth every bean I earn. If time were money, I would have a hole dug from here to China, but like any kid, I only have to do a few chores to earn my allowance. I get to work at TC’s a couple of days a week too. She hardly ever makes me cry.
The bottom line is, please comment. If you don’t feel comfortable telling me what you don’t like, just emphasize what you want to see more of. If you comment at the bottom of the blog, or hit like if you like, you can do it anonymously.
One more thing before I move on. If I write much more about my childhood, I’ll have to make it up, and I promised you I wouldn’t do that. (I have saved one or two.)
Here is some feedback I have received from some of my friends.
“I would like to see more Lav stories. I paid $62 for my crown..(Although I really haven’t had buyer’s remorse.) I would like to sing songs in my stories, and be besties with Pico. I would like to ride horses more in my childhood stories, but MOST of all..I want that red convertible. And…A cute driver.”
Murdo Girl: Okay Lav..You are a good example of nepotism gone wrong. Get away from the bottles and eat some frosted flakes like a good Next VP cousin. BTW..does that rag you’re reading have anything in it about me?
“Come back when you grow up girl. You’re still living in a paper doll world.”
The people wearing sunglasses
I’m loving you girl, but your wide-eyed innocence is really messing up my mind
I’d rather you get your very first heartbreak somewhere else along the line.
This experiment isn’t working out the way I had hoped it would. Oh well, live and learn.. I try to remember to look people in their eyes. I might be the only one who really sees them today.