Murdo Girl…I’m so challenged

This is a blog I wrote when we were in the middle of turning a shed in our back yard into what I finally named, “The Cottage.” My sister-in-law even gave us a really cool sign. I know Kip will soon get around to putting it up.

Even though Dollie has become Covid Cat pudgy, she still sleeps in the same basket. Here is a picture I just took this morning. (Her love of baskets is referred to later in the bog.)

I’m busing having one or two guests at a time over for tea parties in the cottage and Kip is preparing the motor home for a trip to Rockport in late February.

We’re missing our little Sammie bunches, but we take comfort in the fact that she had a good life with us.

I’m trying to follow the Nutrisystem diet. At the rate I’m going, I’ll reach my goal…um…I wouldn’t take any bets on it.

Have a wonderful Sunday. I have to go look in my closet for something that fits. As always. I’m looking forward to going to church this morning.


I haven’t been ignoring my blog. Well, yes I have. The truth is, I’ve been working on a project and it takes me multiple times of trying to get things right before I come reasonably close or give up. I get really frustrated sometimes. I try to read instructions, but beyond the 3rd step, I’m usually lost, which frustrates me even more.

This knowledge of myself only reinforces how important it is for me to live the simple life. I have made a little headway there. I’ve designed a mudroom for my almost tiny home.

Kip loves it! He has four pairs of shoes plus dress shoes and he’s always wearing one pair, so they all fit in the basket.

I’m a real basket person. Everytime I walk through the door with a new basket, Kip groans. “Where are you going to put that?” He asks.” If you put one more under the bed, it will raise it off the floor!”

“The cat outgrew hers.”

“Besides, I’ll need several for my she shed. (My she shed is currently on hold while Kip finishes making a rock walk in the backyard and fixes some things in the motor home. Plus, I upset him a little and Mary’s Manor went from #2 to #8 on his priority list.

Meanwhile, my plans are getting more elaborate and my treasures remain in his way in the garage. In a couple of weeks, I’ll start pounding nails in the shed and that’s sure to move me up a little on the list.

I’m not really manipulative. I prefer the word, motivator. And I don’t nag. I make suggestions. I never whine, either. I’ll manipulate or nag before I’ll whine.

Murdo Girl… The recipe (book)

I have added onto this story I wrote about Mom a couple of years ago. What a character. I’m a little bit like her…

You have to see what I found today. I won’t enter it in the water tower contest, but coincidinks are things meant to be appreciated. Just look..

All of you know how many thousands of pictures I have accumulated since I started writing Murdo Girl. Tonight, I picked up a small photo album that Gus brought when he came for Christmas. This photo was among several more recent snapshots, most of which I had already seen.

The beautiful young woman wearing the fur coat is my Mother. She is holding Billy. This picture is over 70 years old. Maybe one of you Murdo readers will be able to tell me where it was taken. The Murdo water tower is in the reflection of the window, and in Mom’s handwriting on the back it says…Doc Murphy said this is a good picture of the water tower.

This is amazing for several reasons.

1) To state the obvious, I’m collecting photos of water towers. It delighted me to find this one.

2) We lost many of our older family photos when the storage unit Mom and Gus had the pictures stored in flooded.

3) Mom was not a preserver of anything. I can tell this photo barely made the cut. It looks like she spilled her coffee while she was writing the description. I also have a nice 5 x 7 picture of Mom’s very dear friend Sugar and her husband George taken on one of their special anniversaries. Mom wrote her grocery list on the back of it.

I have all of Mom’s old recipe books. Two Methodist Church, and one Jones County Cookbook. Mom’s favorite recipes are dog-eared, but it’s not the recipes I treasure, it’s the entertainment. Mom had all kinds of notes, newspaper clippings and letters tucked between the pages. I found a two page handwritten recipe for soft oatmeal cookies. I purchased all the ingredients, mixed the batter, and was down to the last bit of instructions on how to bake them, when I noticed on the bottom of the second page, she had written, “Emily’s on page ? of the Jones County Cookbook are much better.”

In all fairness, I’m not any better. Inside my Jones County Cookbook, I found a newspaper clipping that Mom had cut out and sent to my son. It was an Ann Lander’s column describing the best way to get rid of blackheads. At the top Mom wrote, “I noticed last time I saw you, you had some breakouts…Try this.”

In the same cookbook, I found another newspaper clipping telling me If I was going to move to Texas, I would need to know how to kill cockroaches. The advice was to place oranges all over the house. Fortunately, I never had the need to try that particular remedy.

Inside my cookbooks I found 2 report cards (Mason), immunization records (Heather), a note from our daughter (Heidi) telling us what she wanted on her hamburger, and birthday cards to various people. I’m sure I didn’t send them because I didn’t remember I put them in the cookbook. Many of the pages of my books are torn out of the binding, but I can never quite manage to put them back in the right sequence. Every time I make lemon bars, (Mom’s recipe), I have to turn the book upside down and shake the page out that has the recipe on it.

This sample packet of Morton’s Season All has been inside the Methodist Women’s Cookbook for at least 20 years. I’ve never thrown it away because…well, it must still be good. It’s still in the wrapper. I also recently found the warranty for a Rival crock-pot I haven’t had for probably 15 years.


This is the recipe file my Aunt Elna Miller gave me 50 years ago. It’s been a while since I’ve looked inside. I found a story in there that was written by my son in 1989. Maybe I saved it because he got an A+. I guess it’s not a story, but it’s a pretty good read.

Next, I found a picture of Aunt Elna, Mom and Grandma Sanderson. I haven’t seen it since around 1989. (I would guess.)


Note to cousin Valerie: I found a recipe for Ella’s rolls. Do you have it?

I also found a recipe for eggless, milkless, butterless cake. It was one of Mom’s recipes in the Methodist Women’s Cookbook. I asked my brother if he had ever tasted one of Mom’s eggless, milkless, butterless cakes. He said he had never heard of it…me neither. I’m not going to try it. At the end of the recipe she said that you could add two eggs if you wanted to. I wonder why you would do that…Oh, yes…to make the name shorter…makes sense to me.

I might try Ella’s Rolls
From Left: Mom’s sister, Helen, with daughters Sue and Trice, and sister, Ella, with daughter, Valerie
Loretta and daughter, Mary


Murdo Girl…A model of friendship

Comfort, joy, friendship, fleas, loyalty, love, vet bills, grooming, chewing, digging, barking, adoration, faithfulness, and protection are some of the blessings of loving a pet.

This little English Cocker Spaniel, and her sister, stole our hearts thirteen years ago when Kip stopped to save them from getting run over on a busy street. He brought them home and we spent the next several hours giving them baths and cutting the knots out of their hair.

We did the right thing by putting up posters, and checking with the local vets and the humane society. What were we going to do if no one claimed them? We already had one dog and a cat.

We had them groomed and later spayed. By this time, we were wondering what we were going to do if someone did claim them? Neither of us would answer the phone. We were totally attached.

All these years later, we are grateful we had little Sammie Sue in our lives. We have to accept that she is gone, but we’ll see her again at rainbow bridge, where dogs run to meet their humans in heaven.

It hurts to lose her, and it will hurt for a while, but the joy she brought us diminishes the pain. Having a pet is an awesome responsibility, but if you make a mistake, you are quickly forgiven. They ask for nothing and give everything.

Murdo Girl…State of mind

The meaning of emotion is easy to define. It’s a word we use to describe our current state of mind.

Some of these emotions are important to adjust. Two of these are anger and disgust.

Anger can be replaced with joy and gratitude. Disgust becomes acceptance with a change of attitude.

Fear is an emotion that steals your happiness. Find the One to trust and with courage you’ll be blessed.

If you sit around all day and analyze your mind. You’ll soon begin to realize you’re really far behind.

When we get too far behind, pride goes out the window. Sadness rushes in and round and round we go.

I have a major warning that I really must convey. Envy is a waste of mind. Never let it stay.

Don’t languish in emotions that upset your state of mind. I decided just today it’s a decision that is mine.

 “I can’t help how I feel,” are words I’ll never say again. Those feelings that will steal my peace, I’ll pray about and then,

I’ll take the action that I need to grow that mustard seed. I’ll replace all hate with love and from despair I will be freed.

I’ll let the light shine on the darkness. See the beauty it reveals. Watch a shadow disappear and feel how good it feels.


I’ll ask the One who knows the answers. Hear the answer that He sends. Try to do the next right thing. Can I hear a few AMENS?

FUMC Love’s Outreach workers

Murdo Girl…So do I

“l hate it when you play around that old barn, Lizzy. It isn’t safe. I’ve told your pa there will be hell to pay if one of you kids gets trapped inside that old refrigerator.”

Momma must have said those words a million times and Daddy ignored her a million times. Twenty years later, the old barn and the much maligned refrigerator still sit in the same old spot!

We play in the hayloft and chew on a straw. Ma calls us twice. Uh oh here comes Pa.

The sun’s going down. It’s time we ate. Pa says wash up now or you’ll be late.

Another busy day comes to an end. We’ll wake up in the morning and do it all again.

Buddy feeds the chickens and I milk the cow. Buddy can’t milk til Pa shows him how.

The cat hangs around. I squirt him in the eye. Buddy thinks that’s mean and so do I.

I hide a few eggs and throw rocks in the well. Buddy says to quit it or he’s gonna tell.

I say one day I’m leavin’ this farm. No one’s gonna have to twist my arm.

Buddy looks like he does before he cries. I smile real big and roll my eyes.

Buddy says teasing is a mean thing to do, and I guess in a way, I think so too.

Ten years later Buddy goes off to war. I don’t want to live at the farm anymore.

It’s cold that winter and the ice doesn’t thaw. Momma slips and falls and so does Pa.

I write to Buddy and say I sure miss you. He writes me back…says he misses me too.

I think Ma and Pa are soon gonna leave us. That year they both go home to Jesus.

Buddy comes home but he’s not the same. He’s real quiet and one leg’s lame.

I tell him I’ll stay and teach him how, to run the farm and milk the cow.

Along comes the cat. Buddy squirts him in the eye. I say that’s mean and he says so do I.

Murdo Girl…Pearl branches out

Try getting through this rerun without chuckling….

Well, I’m on my way over to walk Pearl the dog. Pearl and Grace have already gone on to The Busy Nest, which is what Pearl calls her store since she tired of calling it “The Business” and figured the place should have a name. But guess what? Pearl got a new winner of an idea. She was still selling Elixerfixer right along, but she said she needed a new frontier to conquer, so she has expanded her umbrella of services to include weddings. It seemed like the perfect fit and a way to bump up the finances and grow the goodwill in the community at the same time…. and… since Grace was already writing an advice column for the newspaper, Pearl said she could incorporate her advising thoughts and provide before and after marriage counseling. She figured, and rightfully so, that Grace couldn’t cause more marriages not to take hold than the unsolicited advice of people who stick their nose into other people’s marital goings on, and have no practical experience telling people what to do like Grace does.

Some figured the local preachers would be up in arms because they were losing out on some of their congregation’s nuptuals, but they decided to let if ride for July and August. It had been tense at times in June with the church basement cooks and they could use some much needed time off. It was getting overwhelming taking care of funeral food, and wedding receptions, not to mention, Lions ‘s Club and other social functions held there. The Yoga/pottery wheel class, inspired by that Ghost movie that finally made it to town, had to move over to the bank’s basement just to keep their time slot.

Anyway, I’ve been multitasking while catching you up on things and I’ve already taken Pearl for her walk. Now, I’m headed for the Busy Nest. I’m not there yet, but I almost am.


“Hi Grace, Hi Pearl, I’m here, are you?” (I smell orange blossoms. There’s either a wedding today, or Pearl’s added a new flavor of the day to her Elixerfixer promotion.)

“Essie! Grace needs you! She’s got a new bride in her office who’s wailing her head off. I just don’t have the patience to suffer other people’s misery. I don’t even want to see them again after they say their vows.”

“Hi Mrs. Smith. Remember me? I’m Ellie/Essie depending on who you’re talking to. What has you in such a dither?”

“Frank and I were only married for two days when he caught a cold. I tell you, he turned into a different person. He has run me ragged! Do you here me? Ragged! It’s my fault the heating pad is too hot on high and not hot enough on medium. He said I put the ice in the ice pack wrong. He thinks there’s something not right about someone who can’t count out seventeen ice cubes. He moans like he’s about to take his last painful breath and just now, he sent me to the store to pick up a bell he can ring when he needs me. I came here instead! What should I do?”

“CALL HIS MOTHER!!” Pearl yelled from the other room. “And then go to the yoga/pottery wheel class. It starts in an hour!”

Murdo Girl…When honking your horn means “Hi”

When you hear people talking about growing up in a small town, you hear all the cliches, like, “People know what you’ve done, even before you do it.” It’s true. I remember being out later than I should have been on a school night, and when I got to school the next morning, a teacher confronted me. It was a long day. I felt everyone’s eyes on me. They were just waiting for me to doze off in class.

When I was a freshman in high school, I went to the prom with a guy who was a sophomore and had just started driving. He was allowed to drive the family car for the occasion, but a problem developed. We were both inexperienced daters and he didn’t have the courage to tell me he was supposed to be home with the car at a certain time. I wasn’t smart enough to know when I should ask him to take me home.

When I finally walked into my  house at 3:00 a.m., my dad, who never worried much about my activities, was fit to be tied. I was highly offended that he might think I had gone someplace I shouldn’t have. After all, in a small town, there are very few places you shouldn’t be.

Dad finally went to bed when I told him my date said we put fifty miles on his dad’s car. To make matters worse, his dad was my typing teacher. I still can’t type very well. He never helped me learn how to find the numbers without looking and I was afraid to ask.

You’re probably thinking I wasn’t brave. Well, I wasn’t, but I was adventuresome. I made it all the way to Texas didn’t I?

Living in a small town, is like being part of a big family. Everyone knows you, and you know them. The people who move into town are usually preachers or teachers, so they don’t really add any mystery to the fabric of the town.

Everyone knew everybody else’s dog, too. None of the dogs had to eat real dog food, and in Murdo, they didn’t have to stay in their own yards. When my dog, Penny, had puppies, my cousin told me the father was another cousin’s dog who had been visiting from Pennsylvania. I’m pretty sure I have this right. I know my cousin, Valerie, will correct me if I have the details wrong. Her dog’s name was Midnight. He was smart and Uncle Al taught him all kinds of tricks. Midnight deflowered Penny, left town and never looked back.

My cousins, the Millers, had Scamp. He was afraid of fireworks. One time he somehow got inside one of our motel rooms without anyone seeing him. In the middle of the night, after the firecrackers stopped and he felt safe, he came out from under the bed and scared the devil out of the poor tourists.

How did I get off onto dog stories? Mom told us about her friends, Dan and Harriet, telling her about their little puppy. Harriet adored him, but sadly, one of them backed over him in the driveway. Harriet said, “At least it didn’t hurt him.” (Meaning he died instantly, therefore, he felt no pain.) Dan said, “What do you mean it didn’t hurt him? It killed him!”

I’m a huge dog lover. Maybe it’s only funny if you hear Mom tell it, and it’s years later.

There is so much to tell about growing up in a small town. Even years later, you feel a sense of belonging somewhere, whether you’ve moved on or not. When I first left Murdo, I actually wondered what certain people were doing every day. It seemed strange that their lives went on just like before even though I wasn’t there to be a part of it all.

I have made some good friends, through this blog, who are from small towns and they get it. We all have fun looking back.

 Yes, looking back to a time when there were no tiny homes. At least not on purpose.

Murdo Girl…Pearl gets it!

I love Pearl. As Mom would say, “She has lots of skin on her nose.” She is never without a good idea for someone else to “carry out.”

I am on my way to Pearl’s, but I really don’t want to go over there. If it wasn’t for Pearl the dog needing me to take care of her, I would make myself scarce for a few days. But since that’s not going to happen, I better prepare myself. You see, I was the one who sorta spilled the beans on Pearl. All the ladies thought she hung the moon…that is until after her yoga class. None of them could get out of bed the next day. They all complained and said since Pearl was such an expert on yoga, she should have known they needed to stretch before doing some of those moves.Pearl made me call them all and cancel the next day’s class. They informed me they were suffering and would not be back!

When I left yesterday, Pearl was choosing between pretending to leaving town, pretending to have a terminal illness, and pretending she had amnesia which is why she didn’t remember stuff like stretching before stretching, and that there was no “limbo to the oldies” in yoga.

I’m not there yet, but I almost am.


“Hi Pearl…I’m here, are you?”

I heard a very weak voice coming from her bedroom. “Yes,” she said. “Is anyone with you?”

“No Pearl…,its just me.”

“Come into my bedroom, Essie. I need your help. You better bring a notepad.”

I told her I would come in there with a notepad as soon as I took Pearl the dog for a walk. Just because Pearl the human was only thinking about her own problems, that didn’t mean Pearl the dog should be neglected. I know if she didn’t love Pearl the human so much, Pearl the dog wouldn’t have wanted to go back to those rooms above Sanderson’s Store. She’s the only one I felt sorry for. Well, maybe Grace just a little bit.

“Are you back, Essie? Do you have a notepad?”

I was hoping she wasn’t going to have me make any other phone calls.

“Hi, Pearl…what exactly are you going to have me do?”

“Well,” she said. “I have decided to tell the truth. Yes, that’s the only way I’m going to get out of this mess. This probably means I’m going to lose my job at the library. I sure hope I can make it without that job.”

“You volunteered, Pearl…you didn’t get paid.”

“You are correct. It was all out of the kindness of my heart.”

“Should I write down, “You get what you pay for?” I asked her.

“No!!” Pearl raised all the way up in her bed. “I am going to take this time, while I am bedridden with…We’ll think of something exotic and contagious so no one will want to drop in to see me. Anyway, I’m going to come up with something else I can teach those women. We’ll make bracelets. I’ll take all of mine apart so they can remake them.”

Pearl was feeling so much better until Grace came in with a letter addressed to Pearl. It was from the library.

Dear Pearl,

The library board held a meeting to discuss your activities at the library. We have decided they interfere with the normal flow of checking out books, not to mention checking them back in.

This is your notice to turn in your library card, (if you even have one). One more thing. You are not eligible for rehire.


The librarian

I thought Pearl would cry, but she didn’t. All of a sudden she seemed to be happy.

“I am going to start my own business, Essie. I have a little nest egg and I am going to use it to get my business off the ground. That old library can go back to the two or three people who came in every day before I started volunteering there.”

“That’s pretty neat, Pearl. Can I work there too?”

“Of course, Essie. So can Grace. We’ll take Pearl the dog with us. They’ll love it.”

“What are you going to name your business, Pearl?” I asked.

“I’m going to have a sign made. It will be flashy like I am. I will call it ‘Pearl’s Business.’ I think it has a ring to it, don’t you?”


I don’t think I’ll give up my towel washing job quite yet.

We’ve been to Pearl’s Business

 Well, Pearl’s business has been open for two weeks and business has been good which is surprising since she hasn’t decided what Pearl’s Business is yet. From what I can tell, people just come to sit around and gossip.

Murdo Girl…Between sand and solid rock

Whenever I have a thought that keeps coming back to me, I eventually have to write about it. I want to make clear that I am only talking about my own experiences, here. This is what I remember about my church going days while growing up in Murdo.

Above is the Methodist Church I went to until they built the new one. I think I was in first or second grade.


Grandma and Grandpa Sanderson with their six offspring and spouses

Grandpa and Grandma, and usually Aunt Tet, went to the Methodist Church every Sunday, and when they were moved to go to church, everybody in the family, except Aunt Irma and Uncle Jeff, who were Lutherans, went to the Methodist Church. Uncle Wayne and Aunt Emily might have been Lutherans too, but I don’t think they went on Christmas Eve, because they were never late to the family celebration. (Their son, Terry, was quite a few years older than me, so maybe they no longer went to the children’s program on those Christmas Eves I remember.) The Lutheran’s were always late because their Christmas program always went on forever.

My Parents rarely went to church. The only time I remember Dad going was the Sunday I was confirmed. He was embarrassed because I wore an old skirt and blouse. He thought I should have worn a new dress like most of the other girls. I was in the seventh grade. I probably had nice dresses in my closet, but Dad did not like my choice of attire for such an important occasion. He went shopping and brought home a red jumper that had two pleats in the front of the skirt, and a pretty white ruffled blouse. I loved it and wore it often.

The other clothing issue I experienced was when I was around eight and Grandpa announced we were going to Church in Rapid City. I had gone on a trip to the cabin with them and hadn’t packed a dress. I wore a pair of bermuda shorts and held my thighs together, so it would look like I was wearing a skirt. That must have looked really ridiculous, especially when I was walking, but it somehow made me feel less embarrassed.


Grandpa at the cabin

Though I was far from being a regular, I remember going to Sunday School several times a year. I will have to say, except for Grandpa and Grandma Sanderson, Mrs. Thomas was probably the best example of what a true and kind believer looked like to me. She had a beautiful voice. I still remember all the words to “Jesus Loves the Little Children,” and “All Things Bright and Beautiful.” Both are sweet and reassuring songs for little kids. All these years later, I still remember Mrs. Thomas’ explanations of some of the Bible verses she taught us. It is more difficult for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God, than it is for a camel to go through the eye of a needle. I imagined a sewing needle, but Mrs. Thomas explained it was a figure of speech that exaggerated for emphasis and that Jesus was saying that it’s impossible for anyone to be saved on their own merits. You just can’t buy your way into heaven.


The new church was built on the same lot as the old one. The parsonage is next door.

Another Sunday School memory I have is looking around and wondering if the church was ever going to have enough money to finish the basement and the classrooms.

The Basement Cooks

The church basement cooks

When I was in the second grade, I developed an irrational fear of dying in my sleep. Every night, I faithfully said the prayer, “Now I lay me down to sleep.” I still remember in what order I said the names of the people I wanted God to bless. Billy always made the cut even if he had been mean to me that day. I ended by saying, “In Jesus’ name I pray,” because I heard someone say that if you asked in Jesus’ name your prayers were answered.


I finally got over my fear of dying in the night. Then, in the fourth grade, I begged Mom to take me to the funeral of a dear old lady who had died in her sleep. That set me back for another year or so.

On two occassions I recall Mom telling me to go and kneel by my bed and ask forgiveness. Once, was when I threatened to tell the lady who was visiting us, the rather unflattering thing I had heard Mom say about her. I learned two important lessons. It’s not necessary to tell someone things that will hurt them, even if it is true; and mothers do not appreciate their kids trying to teach them a lesson.


Sunday was never my favorite day back then. Mom and Dad sat around all day and read the paper. I didn’t have anyone to play with because Sunday was “family time” and none of the kids in town could play. Sometimes we would have Grandma and Grandpa over for Sunday dinner, which helped, except when I had to do all the dishes. As far as I was concerned, that ruined my favorite fried chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, and corn, dinner.

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When I was a teenager, I went to MYF, (Methodist Youth Fellowship). It was great because most of the kids who went were friends and it was the only way they could go anywhere on a weeknight. It was always on Monday night. I don’t remember much about it except standing in a circle at the end of the meeting, holding hands and saying, “May God lift up his countenance upon you, and give you peace.”

Mom always said that being a pallbearer was Grandpa Sanderson’s favorite indoor sport. He lived a long life and I’m sure when the roll is called up yonder, he’s always recognized as a man who lived a good life and helped carry many a casket.

I remember Lois Jaide playing the organ or piano… beautifully. Aunt Elna Miller sometimes sang in the choir.

We had three different ministers during those years . I remember little Kim Lindquist telling a new Methodist minister, who moved in next door, that her family didn’t say, GD-it, anymore.

I remember dying hard-boiled eggs for Easter and wondering why the colored eggs didn’t taste any better than the white ones. Mom went to church on Easter and we always got new hats, gloves, dresses, and shoes. About every other year, we got a new coat.

2-Easter Pic

Stephanie Miller, Karen Lindquist and me on Easter morning

I remember learning that Jesus died for our sins and I can still see the image I had of Him ascending into heaven on the third day. (My son once drew a picture of Jesus on a donkey. At the bottom, he wrote, “The Lord has ridden.”)

As far as my childhood indoctrination into religion, this is a pretty complete accounting of how I thought of things back then.

I’ll have to go back and read this. I’m sure it will give me something more to think about.

Murdo Girl…Trying to envision

I don’t think I ever did make a vision board, but I still think it might be a fun project.

Meanwhile, I still need more old abandoned building pictures. The contest is over 2/15. The ones I have received so far are great! Thank you!

Have you ever heard of a vision board? I’m watching a movie and there’s an interesting story going on. There is a woman in the movie who is at a place in her life where she has reached the pinnacle of happiness.

Meanwhile, her friend is having trouble figuring out what her happiness would look like, and therefore, can’t make it happen.

The woman lets her in on a little secret.

“The “vision board.”

If you drew or painted your personal vision of happiness, what would it look like? If you’re like me and can’t draw or paint, you could cut out pictures and paste them on a poster board.

I don’t think you are ever too old to have a vision board. Things that create your vision of happiness probably change over time. In fact, the older you are, the more important a vision board might be. Just going through the exercise will probably help you see where you’re spending your time and energy.

Would the result surprise you? Would your vision of happiness have too many or too few dreams represented.

I already know I’m going to have to pare down some. I’ll need to prioritize about fifty things I really want to do. I’ve been told by professionals that I go off on too many tangents. I can never quite wrap up all the things I start.

Wow!..I’m already having visions of what I want on my board.

Yes!…I’m going to create my own vision board. I’ll ponder it until tomorrow afternoon and then I’ll make one. Are my dreams worthy? Are they realistic and achievable? (I’ll leave singing off.)

I’m not lying Pinocchio!

What do I need to do to make my dreams come true?

I have a lot to think about. I’ll show you my masterpiece when its completed. We might all be surprised. That is if I finish it!

Too bad I got sidetracked and didn’t watch the rest of the movie. Does anyone know how it ended?