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

Murdo Girl…Tiny tipster in training

It’s been three weeks and one day since we moved from the small house to the RV, which is our home until the tiny house is completed. We’ve lived in the RV for as long as two months at a time, but it is a little different when you’re traveling around seeing new places, or family and friends you haven’t seen in a while. It’s different when it rains for two and one half weeks and you can’t just up and say, “Gotta go! We follow the sun.”

We absolutely do know how lucky we are that we sold the small house quickly and considering we live with three dogs and a cat, we’re grateful we have our RV to live in while we wait.

What, with our investigative activities, our social obligations, and our chores, including taking time out to walk the dogs several times a day, we have very little spare time.

We are in training for tiny home living. Here are some things I tested just yesterday.

1) I framed these beautiful photographs. They’re tiny enough for the smallest wall.

These three are my new favorite photographs taken by my friend, Dianna Kenobbie Diehm. Woops…The 3rd one isn’t  framed.


I named this photo “Cloud Lasagna.”

I decided to add a depiction of South Dakota weather.

I spent a portion of the day cleaning all of my silver jewelry with tarnish remover. It took about 1.5 hours, including the 1.25 hours I drove around town looking for tarnish remover. I didn’t remember I don’t have much silver jewelry. I ruined two pieces that were very thinly plated, but I have two necklaces that are blindingy shiny.

Next, I decided to whiten my teeth with some charcoal stuff I saw on TV and found at Dollar General. I ruined two toothbrushes, one T shirt, and used half a bottle of 409 to get the charcoal mess in my tiny sink cleaned up. I didn’t think it through. I should have known a tiny container of charcoal shouldn’t cost twenty dollars even if it did come from a tropical region.

I like to try time saving things seen only on TV, and some of them are worth the one for $9.98 and another free plus shipping and handling. Those handlers make bug bucks. I bought two gel filled cushions. The free one ended up costing four dollars more than the first one.

The hangers that make more room in your closet do, however, work like a charm. I showed Kip and he said, “But I thought I was supposed to have room for more than three shirts, now. You just doubled what you have in the closet.”

Here’s your pretend sign, Kip. I’d give you a real one, but we don’t have any place to put it.

Those little hard boiled egg cookers seen on TV work great! I’ve been on a roll making hardboiled eggs and every kind of tiny omelet you can imagine. It makes a tiny home smell like eggs, though, so you might want to work in some other protein sources once in a while or wait a couple of days if you’re planning to have (a) company over.

Meanwhile, all of my beautiful Beasterhops are in storage. I hope I can spring them before Easter.

More tiny home tips from the tiny home tipsters will be forthcoming as soon as I save up some money.


Murdo Girl…Ellie learns to think it through

I’m on my way over to Pearl the human’s to take Pearl the dog out back to do her business. We’re not going over to The Busy Nest, today. It’s just going to be Pearl the human there… all by her lonesome. Grace had an extremely unfortunate accident yesterday and will be bedridden for a while.

If it hadn’t been so tragic, it would have been kinda funny.

You see, Pearl convinced Grace that she looked trashy in her black flats, because of the rubber bands she had to stretch around her feet to hold them on. Grace just loves flats, but her feet just weren’t made for them. Pearl says Grace’s arch is too high, which makes her foot bow up. When her foot bows up, it’s too short for the shoe which makes the shoe fall off. I know what you’re thinking, because I thought it too. Why doesn’t she buy a smaller shoe? Well, because when she steps down, her weight makes her foot straighten some and that makes the shoe fit a little better. It’s on the uplift that Grace needs the rubber bands.

Anyway, Grace and Pearl were gonna go to Pierre and shop for a serviceable, yet fashionable shoe for Grace, but they couldn’t get away when the stores in Pierre were open, so they had to resort to ordering from the catalog. They weren’t for sure what size Grace wears since her flats never fit her so they had to guess.

They didn’t think it through.

Grace didn’t have those shoes on for more than half an hour when they came untied and one of the fashionable but not so serviceable ribbons got twisted around the leg of the folding chair Grace was sitting on at The Nest. When Grace got up and tried to take a step, the shoe and the chair came with her. Grace made all kinds if moves to try to stay upright and I think the big surprise to all of us was that when she finally stopped reaching and twisting, she actually did land back in the chair. Too bad she wasn’t able to stay in it. She slid right out and onto the floor like a wet noodle. Somewhere along the line she broke her tailbone…and guess what? Both of her shoes fell off. Right now, she’s resting uncomfortably in her bedroom, and Pearl the dog and I have to take care of her. Guess who will be answering all the Dear Grace letters until dear Grace has a less painful day.

It’s the least I can do.

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


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

“Ruff, ruff!”

“Elllllllie?! Hurry, Ellie. I need my donut pillow. Oh my, my, my, my… I’m suffering so, so, so much!”

“Ruff, ruff!”

I tried my best to get Grace situated on her donut before I took Pearl ouside. The poor dog must have been, so, so, so uncomfortable, too. We both hated to go back upstairs to those rooms above Sanderson’s store. It was gonna be a long, long, long, day.

Then I got a great idea. I figured as long as I had to stay with Grace all day, I might as well get the most out of it.

The first thing I did was call Mack’s cafe and order us some big ol’ cinnamon rolls for breakfast.

Mack’s Cafe

“Hello,” I said in a tired sounding voice. “This is Ellie and I’m calling for poor Grace who is laid up over here. I’m sure you heard she took a nasty fall and she is in exCRUNCHiating pain. She is moaning so loud I can hardly understand her, but I believe she is asking for two or… maybe three of your mouth watering cinnamon rolls. The problem is, I don’t have any money and I can’t leave Grace long enough to try to find someone to give me the cash OR come to Mack’s to buy those deLUSHis rolls. Hello! Are you still there?”

Well, they brought us over four huge rolls. On the house. Poor Grace could only eat about a half of one.

Fern’s Cafe

That idea worked so well, I decided to get Grace a juicy cheeseburger and fries from Fern’s Cafe. I told them Grace would surely love some of Fern’s deLUSHis chocolate cake with that fudge frosting. They brought over enough burgers and fries, and chocolate cake to feed four people. Too bad Grace wasn’t hungry because it sure was good.I ate hers and mine. Pearl the dog didn’t want any.

I didn’t think it through.

By the time Pearl the human got home, I was sound asleep right there in bed beside Grace. I only woke up because I kept hearing, “Ruff, Ruff,” and, “Hurry, Pearl! Oh, my, my, my, my…I am suffering so, so, so, much!”

“Settle down now, Grace,” Pearl said. “I brought us all BBQ sandwiches, french fries and chocolate malts from the Frosty Freeze. Where are you going, Essie? Let’s eat while it’s hot!! You must be starving!”

“Ruff, ruff…feed me, please.”

Murdo Girl…A birthday bouquet for Sue

Have I told you that we painted, today? Sue wanted to cause it’s her birthday.

“What next?” You might say. (Read really fast, it sounds better that way.)

Not the wall in the hall or the nails on our fingers, it seems long ago, now…but the memory lingers.

I began with a canvas and puddles of paint, not one ounce of talent and void of restraint.

I forged ahead and dalooped my tulips, piled colors on colors and sipped on mint juleps. Not really, but it rhymes. I try to do that when writing poetry, sometimes.

When I finished my flowers I dried them real dry with the heat of a hair dryer turned way up on high.

I wasn’t alone there, no I was invited, along with eight others who were really excited, a cute little dog and a lady to teach us how to paint like Van Gogh and create masterpieces.

I’ve never seen anything like it before. When Sue said, “Let’s do this.” I asked, “What for?” 

“It’s my birthday,” she said. “We will do as I please. My friends will bring crackers and dips with cream cheese. Did you bring me a card or forget it, again? Never mind, let’s have fun! And then…

“We’ll sing happy birthday, and Fran made a cake. We’ll each paint a flowery and leafy keepsake.”

“We will add words of wisdom… hold our canvas up proudly. We’ll stand shoulder to shoulder. Please try not to crowd me…take a bunch of cool pictures before saying goodbye. It’s my best birthday ever!” Sue said with a sigh. 

Sue went from friend to friend and admired their artwork. When she got to me, she gave me a smirk…

She looked at my flowers then smiled, casually, and thanked me for bringing the tasty spiced tea.

My flowers looked wilted and the leaves looked disgraced, but they’ll hang on my wall in a prominant place.

Happy birthday sweet Sue…let’s do this again. 

I can hear all our friends say a hearty, AMEN!

Write AMEN, Lady J!

Murdo Girl…Tiny tippers

Remember not too long ago when Kip and I were making plans to pilot a new show for HGTV. Sherri Miller suggested we call it “Tiny Tippers”, which was a good idea. Since we aren’t going to buy a new tiny home every week, the premise will be for us to give helpful tips on the ins and outs of getting a tiny home from conception to completion. The new word for tips, is actually hacks, but “Tiny Hackers,” reminds me too much of the cold I just recovered from.

Anyway, we will eventually complete our pilot, but we’re at a standstill right now, so we came up with something to keep us busy and still be able to use the ingenious name, “Tiny Tippers.” Here’s how we came up with the alternate usage.

We currently live in an RV Park right on Main Street in Gun Barrel City. We have to walk our dogs several times a day which gives us…shall we say, “opportunities” to notice what people are doing. Unless we know them, we really don’t care what they’re doing so we only spy on…not really spy…what is a good word that means something like spy, but not offensive? Anyway, we only detect and make note of what people we know are doing.

Today, for instance, we happened to be walking over by East Texas Medical Center. We saw a lady who looked like Helen P. hop out of her car and jump into a man’s car. Kip yelled, “Hey! What are you doing?”

Helen turned around and said, “We’re going to get a hot dog, and then we’re going to come back here and walk.”

While Kip had Helen distracted, I took the dogs and walked over to the other side of the car so I could identify the man Helen was apparently rendezvousing with in the parking lot… in broad daylight, no less.

Well, it was Gary P, Helen P’s husband, which is beside the point entirely. It could have been someone we didn’t know, in which case, we wouldn’t have paid any attention to him unless, of course, Helen wanted to introduce us.

Tip: No matter what you suspect, always drill down until you get to the truth.

Later, we saw Don R running into ETMC. He was carrying a suspicious looking bag. We were quite a distance away and the dogs were getting too tired to move fast. Hence, we weren’t able to get Don R’s attention, so we went on to complete our walk. When we came back through the ETMC parking lot, Kip said, “Hey look! There is Don R’s car and it’s parked all crooked. What do you suppose that means?”

I had an idea!!

“Don’t you remember how fast he was running to get into the building with his little bag? The way he was hanging on to it, I’m sure it was probably full of money. Maybe Gary and Helen P are blackmailing him and he was rushing into the gym where they were going to walk after they had their hot dog.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Kip said. “There is Mary Ann R ‘s car parked next to her husband, Don R’s car. Man, they are taking up three parking spaces, and they’re good ones too!”

At that point, we had to go back to the RV because the dogs wanted water.

We are left with one unanswered question. Why the heck do all these husbands and wives take separate cars to the ETMC gym? Look at all the time they have caused the “Tiny Tippers” to waste!

Later, we left to meet our Tuesday night dinner group in Athens. We both rode over in Kip’s truck. On the way there, we agreed to keep the events of the day to ourselves. We don’t think it’s necessary to “tip” people off. We will only talk about any given incident if there is dirt involved, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, if we don’t get some dirt soon, we’re going have to go out there and meet some people who aren’t so stoic. There is no money in spying on stoic people.

We went to a Chinese food restaurant tonight. You will not believe what I found when I opened up my fortune cookie.


It really inspired me.

Below, is the little girl who once swam at the swimming dam east of Murdo, SD. Pink Sandy taught me how to swim. His grandson, Wayne Esmay, shared this picture with me today.


I’ve grownup so much. I was the only kid in this picture who was still wearing a life belt. I no longer wear one, and I don’t hold my nose when I go under anymore, either.


We can’t afford any cards yet, but if you require “Tiny Tippers’ ” services you can contact us at the ##### RV Park, space ### in Gun Barrel City. We’re in the RV with the busted up door. It’s been that way since the other night when we accidentally got locked out and the police had to come and show us how to break the door in. (Our dogs bite and the door is well barricaded.)



Tiny Tippers…If we don’t find dirt, no one gets hurt…We’re not bored, we’re just broke.

**Kip sat by Barbara S tonight and I sat next to Sara H. We got nothing. I probably could have gotten something on Bear J who sat across from us, but I passed on it because he’s going to help me back-up the dirt on my computer on Monday.**

Tomorrow is another day. I’m going to a painting place with some friends where we will eat and paint. I can’t paint, so I’ll try to overeavesdrop some dirt or at least a light dusting.