I really, really need a help yourself, self-help course. I have thought about it long enough and it is now time to help myself to things… other than candy and cookies and giving voice to strange thoughts. I have been the ring leader, in fact, the inspiration of the idea that the Whiteboard House can reinvent itself. Clever of me, wasn’t it? What else could be done to re-purpose an old grade school building full of small desks and smaller cartons of milk? I am no pioneer. I am a starter rather than a finisher, but this time, I am going to hang in there until I have seen this awesome juice plan fizzle out completely.

My mantra:

Ask not what you can do to help yourself. Ask what you can do to self-help everybody else in your life.  It’s called focusing on something you can’t change…other people. Remember…if you are pointing your finger at someone else, there are three more fingers pointing at the people behind you. That’s a lot of people to set straight.  Let us take action, now!!!

The first of several meetings planned to help us see the good in trashing other people. MG is sharing and chairing.

MG: Thank you so much for attending this groundbreaking meeting of the partial minds. We don’t want to give this our all, my friends. That would be a grievous mistake. We have nothing to gain, so please give it all the seriousness it deserves. I’m a blank slate, so I will open the meeting up for discussion. Lav, you look like you might be having a congruent thought. How does that feel?

Lav: It’s such a challenge, MG. How do I decide who to talk crap about first? BTW…it’s not much fun unloading my opinions when the objects of my denigrating remarks spoken in a soft, syrupy, lilting voice, are sitting there looking at me.

MG: Zackly! Who would you like to ask to leave, Lav?

Lav: Huh?

MG: No one word answers, please.

Lav: Do I look stupid, MG? If I asked you to leave, then I would be the only one here. Where is everybody? I am helpless and helping myself is not an option. Why do you think I come to Murdo and hang out with you? If I wanted change in my life, I would stay home.

There is a ringing sound occurring in MG’s ears. That is a hard call to answer, but thankfully, that won’t be necessary. The gang is here.

Carol: If you don’t mind, MG, we would like to start off this groundbreaking meeting of the partial minds with a medley of one appropriate tune. I will start.

My Way

Carol the singer

And now, the end is near
And so you face the final curtain
Next Pres MG, I’ll say it clear
I’ll state your case, of which I’m certain

you’ve been a Queen south of sixteen
You’ve traveled one big deadened highway
But more, much more than this…

Grab the mic, Presho Girl…

Regrets, you’ve had a few

But your mistakes were pretty many.

You did what you wanted to
And we saw it through without a penny.

We had some parties…fit for Queens and we never once wore Mom jeans. (Plus, we funded them all with beans,)

sing it sister, TC

 

You planned our chartered course
And each mis-step along the byway
And more, much more than this
You did it your way…

Yes, there were times, I’m sure you knew
When I bit off more cheese than I could chew
But through it all, when there was doubt
I ate it up and spit it out…yuck

(MG blurts out)

You faced it all and I stood tall
And did it my way!!

Oh, sorry…who is next? Aggressive Informant?

I can’t sing. I’m wearing sunglasses.

Jerry and Treason try a duet…

 

You’ve loved, you’ve laughed and cried
You’ve had your fill your share of losing

And now, as tears subside
We find it all so amusing

Hahahaha

Pico and Dm come dancing in. They have to dance the two step because they are both recovering from knee replacement surgery, therefore, out of four feet, only two can dance.

 

And now,…

To think you did all that
And may we say – not in a shy way
Oh no, not you
You stepped on some toes and did it your way…

Lav and MG bring it to a painful end.

For what is a Queen ? What has she got
If not herself, then she has naught.
To say the things she truly feels
And not the words of thoughtless heels
The record shows we took the bows
And did it our way…

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

Yes, it was myyy..yua waaaay..

I want you to know that I take my job as the self-appointed tiny home queen of Mabank, TX very seriously. It’s mucho work, but the pilot we are taping will surely win us that coveted slot on HGTV soon to be vacated by Chip and Jo.

Ch’kip and Mo’Q are destined to be the next HGTV sensations. We will make it happen or I don’t have a big crown on my head. What time is their show on, anyway? I hope it’s over by nine.  

I’ve started to emulate Jo on “Fixer Upper.” Our tiny home is not a fixer upper, but Ch’kip is. We will have to study and shop and be very creative. I will have people make things for me like Jo does.

We won’t do one thing I’ve noticed the Gaines do. They tell people it’s going to cost them $150,235.24, which is always right at the top of the budget. Then a few days later, they say, “Uh oh, we ran into wood rot so you’ll have to cough up another three grand.” The people can’t complain, because they’re on TV. We’ll just dry it out with a fan and burn a candle to get rid of the musty smell.

We’re in the process of readying our tiny Camelot for the viewing, unveiling, or whatever you call it. I worked all day on my sketches, so I hope you’ll appreciate them…a lot.

Back of house

Facing street

Here, I fooled around with some different ideas…We were going to use re-purposed pantyhose to make the rug, but the hose wouldn’t take the dye, so we just bought the rug at Target. I might take it back and try weaving a rug from colorful tights. Now that winter is almost over, I can probably get some on sale. I can re-purpose the rug next fall by taking it apart and wearing the tights.

To give it that 70’s look, I brought out an ashtray.

This is a bathroom. It doesn’t really look much like ours, but I was trying to decide on a stack-able washer and dryer. This set is on sale through tomorrow. This isn’t where it goes.

Full disclosure, here. None of these pictures are of our tiny house. This is a model home we spotted that looks a little bit like our house will when it’s built. The outside is pretty similar except the steps to the deck are on the short side which will be the front of the house. That 2 x 4 has to go. Ch’kip might be able to whittle something out of it…possibly a set of venetian blinds. 

We don’t have anything on the walls yet, but we have thirty minutes before the showing, right Ch’kip? 

Thornton-Pickard was established in 1888 in Manchester. After the death of one of the owners, and the resignation of another, the company ceased to exist in 1939.

(Found..the lens and the maker)

Thornton Pickard MCC No.6 Projector with brass lens ‘The Hatton’, fitted for an electric lamp..

I saw her at the depot and photographed her without her knowledge. As I looked at her lovely countenance, I tried to imagine why she traveled here. She was impeccably dressed and seemed so full of self assurance. I would guess she was highly intelligent and her life must be, or must have been, a big life. This kind of woman had family and friends who adored her. Did she arrive alone?

I was orphaned at the age of eleven. My mother and my father, a physician, died from a terrible illness. It was an epidemic that overcame so many. In some cases, entire families died. I was destined to live and I intended to lead a life I could be proud of.

I didn’t come here alone. I arrived with my husband. He was a handsome young man who was in the business of owning and operating hardware stores.

My granddaughter wrote this poem about my life here. Little did I know that some of my best years would be lived above the Murdo Depot. I raised my family there.

Constance Francis Bowers

She lived before me, her years were few, this woman who I never knew.

I didn’t know her, but knew of her, Constance was my father’s mother.

I’ve seen her pictures from way back then, and letters that she sometimes penned.

Her husband died and went to heaven. My Father William was only seven.

Son Charles was two, John only ten. These boys were hers alone to tend.

She owned a hardware store in Murdo, and tried her best to make it go.

No time to grieve, she worked long hours. Then Constance Francis wed William Bowers.

Bill Bowers was 55 and Connie was 38 when they married.

William had lost his children’s mother, and until Connie, had loved no other.

By all accounts they got along. Their’s was a union described as strong.

Dad Bowers and Connie, six kids in tow, lived fifteen years above the Depot.

The Murdo Depot

Life was good, but there were fears, for these were the depression years.

The small rooms above the railroad station, had no plumbing for the duration.

The heat was from two old coal stoves. They carried water to wash their clothes.

The years went by, the children grew, and then they were faced with World War II.

Most of the six stayed way out west, after the war, they thought it best.

Charles the youngest, Connie’s pride, got a furlough when Dad Bowers died.

It was 1943, it seemed California was the place to be.

In 46, after the war, Connie sold Francis hardware store.

To California she made her way, where son Charles attended UCLA

She made a home for Charles and his friends, but far too soon her story ends

She made plans for a trip to Murdo, but became too ill and couldn’t go.

1948 was the year she died. Her son Charles was by her side.

She died at the age of fifty-nine. I am one of her family, and she was one of mine.

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

Bill Francis, an Army Engineer, later chose a plumbing career.

He married Loretta  and settled down, they raised two children in their hometown.

John stayed out west on a whim and Margaret left teaching in Murdo to marry him. 

John chose teaching as his career path; moved to Pasadena, and taught High School Math.

Bob, Bev, and Margarete, were the nicest people you could ever meet.

In California they made good lives. Happy to be where winter never arrives. 

Charles married Barbara and moved to New York. The depression was over. He would eat no more salt pork. Yes, Chuck, the youngest of all, had an amazing career and raised Abby and Paul.

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

All of us are God’s creations. Our families span the generations.

 Some come to us by birth, others arrive magically. Some carry our blood or bring us life after tragedy. Yes, remember them well right from the start and let them live forever, deep in your heart.

I don’t really like soup, but these past few days, soup has been the only thing that likes me. Actually, it only started liking me a little bit, yesterday. I don’t remember ever being so sick.

Mom, and many others, used to say, “Your health is your wealth.” She also said, “Truer words were never spoken.” Both phrases are quite accurate. I would rather feel good than have a million dollars. I have a new compassion for people who suffer from chronic health issues. This is a stand alone statement.

Don’t abuse your body.

Enough things can go wrong with the human anatomy without our help. I have always been sort of an all or nothing kind of person. I either fiercely adhere to healthy eating and exercise or go full bore into slothfulness and gluttony. In the last few years, I have spent more time in the later category.

Dollie has promised to help me with this blog. She convinced me I must let Murdo Girl’s friends know why she hasn’t written anything lately.

I must try to fuel myself with soup. I asked Kip to stop by the store and bring me some cans of soup. He brought me, Cream of Mushroom, Cream of Celery, and Broccoli and Cheese. I have only eaten the first two in a casserole or baked with chicken, but I’ll give them a try.

I want to feel good again!!! I want to continue looking through my discoveries and writing their stories. I want to live to see clear, sunny skies. I want to experience scents other than musty. I want to wear shoes instead of rubber boots.

I want to feel like doing things. I can take better care of myself without being a fanatic. I want to find a way to download Pearl’s emotes.

Never try to compete with Pearl, Dollie girl!!

Okay…maybe I’m delirious…I think I’ll try to eat some cream of something.

mmmm

You will be informed of our tiny home adventure in it’s entirety. We have come a long way, and we’ve learned so much. The house has been ordered and will be built in the tiny home factory near Athens. We thought long and hard about all of our choices from colors to where our new abode will sit on our lot. We have sorted, stacked, rearranged, sold, given things away, and in the midst of it all, become a little confused about what we have and what we will need. It doesn’t matter at the moment, anyway, because we are sidelined by a tsunami.

For over a week, I have worn nothing on my feet but the Bit and Bridle water boots I bought at the Goodwill Store in Rapid City last summer. Kip decided they make a lot of sense and since the forecast is for at least five more days of solid rain, he found a pair for himself at Tractor Supply. The same place he purchased his raincoat last year.

As the title of this blog suggests, I have uncovered an interim adventure. I wasn’t quite ready to let you in on it as I wasn’t sure exactly how I was going to proceed with unveiling my finds. If I seem a little secretive at first, please bear with me. There is a good reason why I can’t give you a lot of details up front. Trust me…I think the full story will be worth your wait, and should be fun for all of us. The most important thing you should know today is…This has nothing to do with thrift store shopping or tiny homes, or Murdo. (Except, all those things are my points of reference.) I might need your help.

If I have already mentioned anything to you about this adventure, please keep it to yourself for now, as I have changed my mind about telling anyone.

This recently came into my possession. It’s some type of camera. I can’t find anything that looks exactly like it. I can only find information about cameras with one or two of the same features. It could be an antique, or it could be something someone made, either recently, or a long time ago.

Below is an ebony vintage, large format 4 x 5 camera with a Schneider lens. The base and the accordion part look similar. I don’t see a lens on the one I photographed. Maybe it’s missing, or I just haven’t found it. Maybe it isn’t supposed to have one.

Antique half plate camera…no lens.

I don’t have knowledge of old cameras and therefore haven’t identified the parts you see in the photograph. I will just have to reach back in time and find the answers.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

A Young Man’s Dream

No one knows me here. If others have noticed me at all, they wouldn’t mistake me for a wealthy cattleman, or a cowboy, but they would assume I am in the cattle business. I’m alone and in no hurry to leave. Why else would a man of modest means stay at an old hotel near the train depot in a cow town, if not to make a cattle related living.

In truth, I have been watching and waiting. I have at long last mastered my craft and through patience and perseverance, I have accumulated the magnificent tools I need to fulfill my dream. Everything is coming together. I intend to record a very big piece of history. There is no longer anything to distract me from my work.

The railroad that passes through this magic city brings trainload after trainload of Texas Steers to graze on the Dakota grass. But it’s not the cattle that fascinate me, it’s the people.

Why do they come? I wonder this as I watch them get off the train, one by one. What kind of life are they looking for, here?

It’s late…11:45 p.m. to be exact. I want to write a blog, but I don’t know if I should stay up any later. What do you think? I would have started earlier, but we went to a birthday dinner for our daughter, Heidi. It was an important birthday, too. A real big one. I don’t recall her age, but she looks great. She belongs to our two grown grandchildren, Mike and Nikki who belong to our three great grandchildren…Skyler, Ryan and Griffin, who was not present nor did he bring his parents tonight.

Our grandsons, Seamus and Hudson, brought their parents…our daughter, Heather, and her husband, Scott.

What could be better than dinner at a great Mexican restaurant, followed by Neapolitan cake, and fun with the grandkids?

Heidi is my hero.

“Yay,” Ryan says. “Here comes the cake. Mommy and Daddy, Nikki and Justin, look so cute!”

Happy Birthday, Heidi!! We love you!! 

“Every party’s got a pooper that’s what we invited you for….party pooper!”

“Goodnight, Brad”…”Skyler, you better take Papa home.”

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

It’s been so rainy and dreary and it doesn’t look like that is going to turn around in the near future. We needed rain. We now have enough. Not much can happen to further the tiny house project as long as it continues to rain, even though I have dubbed it the “Tiny Ark.”

I shouldn’t complain. I have plenty of things to keep me busy. I have never had a problem entertaining myself. I can always look at funny pictures.

I could think about my favorite childhood memories. I still have some old pictures to sort through…

If your crown has become askew

Maybe you should think about what you do!

Until you learn to play fair…

You’ll spend some time in the TIME OUT CHAIR!

I remember the day well. I became angry when my cousin, Andrea came over to help Mom clean the basement. I wanted her to play with me, instead. I mistakenly hit her across the shins with my baton. It didn’t end well for little MG.

Well, enough reminiscing. It’s time for me to hightail it to bed. I have to get up early tomorrow and walk the dogs in the rain. They’re going to hate it.

The following is a never before told story….followed by a first run rap🤔

Lav and I were commenting back and forth on yesterday’s blog about crowns and hats. As far as I’m concerned, Her Highness, Queen Elizabeth made it possible for all persons of royalty to, on occassion, replace the pomp and circumstance of a bejeweled crown with the class and dignity of the perfectly styled hat. Queen E is no less the Queen in the exquisite hat designed for whatever “duty calls” appearance, she graces with her magistracy… then she is in the full regalia she dons for the occassions requiring more elegance and perhaps regal distinction from her beloved commoners.

Anyway, I have crowns and what I call crown-hats. I have never before told you the back story to my royal connections. You know my mother was the Queen of Highway 16 when she was eighteen. She didn’t wear a crown. She wore a crown-hat. Her Palace was the Corn Palace in Mitchell, South Dakota. She looked the part of royalty through and through.

My story is more of a Cinderella story. It all began when I was seven. Kitty Reynolds, who was the most sought after seamstress in Murdo, called my mother with some exciting news. Her granddaughter, Judy, was getting married in Vernal, Utah and I was chosen to be the flower girl. Kitty was going to immediately fit me with a beautiful yellow gown and we were going to buy me some white patent leather shoes. Best of all, Kitty was going to make me a beautiful hat. One fitting for a beautiful southern belle. It was to be my first crown-hat.

It really pains me to tell you about the ugly twist this story took. Something came up and Mom and I weren’t going to be able to make it. I was appropriately devastated. I don’t think I have ever fully recovered. Well, not quite, but you will have to agree it’s not from lack of trying. The only thing that stopped the tears, was Mom told me I could wear my white patent leather shoes anytime I wanted to. I put them on and ran across Tuffy Gilbert’s yard and across Main Street to Sandra Meyer’s house. (I was so besott, I doubt I had the presence of mind to look both ways.) I proceeded to show my shoes off to Sandra’s whole family. I wasn’t able to come forth with the knowledge that I was not going to be the princess at the wedding. I just couldn’t stop Sandra’s family, which happened to include my 2nd grade teacher, who was also Sandra’s mother, from saying how they couldn’t wait to see the wedding pictures of me dropping flowers from my basket as the light flashed brilliantly off the shiny leather of my shoes.

Guess what happened next? The event that was so bittersweet it was just about too much for the (dying for a crown-hat) kid that was me, to take! Mom decided we could go after all. Do you want to hear the kicker? My best friend Lois Lillibridge had already been told she was to be the royal flower girl and Kitty had turned my gown into Lois Lillibridge’s gown. I went to Vernal, Utah with Kitty and Mom and Lois and her mom and her sister, Cheryl. I wore my white shoes with everything. I never took them off. I didn’t act out either. I showed what I was made of. I didn’t shed a tear as I watched Lois in my gown walk regally down the isle at the coronation…I mean wedding.

I think that is why Kitty did what she did. When we got back to Murdo, Kitty made me…yes me…the most beautiful red gown I had ever seen.

And the rest is history.

Queen Elizabeth symbolically looking at me. My cousin, Mark, to right of me, was the parade manager. He designed and made my first tinfoil crown.

Let it be known that I have a picture of all of us in Vernal for the wedding.

**I’m in my RV without full access to all of my pictures. I think I have it in one of my stories, but I won’t take the time to hunt for it now. 

As most of you know, my mom and Lav’s mom were sisters and extremely close friends, which is why Lav and I are cousins and extremely close friends. Lav fills in for Queen Elizabeth when she can’t get across the pond to some of my more pressing functions. I consider Lav, my sometimes co-queen. You are welcome, Lav, aka, Valerie.

Lav has written and performed another of her famous rockin raps.

You knocked it out of the ballpark again, Lav.

Patti helped me with my second tinfoil crown for the 2016 reunion parade