By Lav Yeckel

I can’t sleep.

I can’t eat (much).

I can’t concentrate. I’m too excited about attending another reunion in a few weeks. My cousins and uncle and I are meeting again to party with some more South Dakota folks in Arizona. This gathering has morphed from an older Jones County Picnic. It’s a reunion of snowbirds and visitors who hail from a couple counties in our home state. We like to get together and talk over old times, compare memories, gossip, take pictures, tell jokes, remember folks we have lost, and eat. We don’t always know everyone there, but it’s fun to meet new people. We ask ourselves why we’re going. You might ask us why we’re going. My California friends ask me why I’m going. The answer is that we hold a bond, a special connection with these people who grew up in or near our small town of Murdo. These folks might be a bit younger or older than my cousins, Uncle, and me, but they knew our family. They might remember our Grandparent’s store or when Uncle Jeff ran the store. They might remember Uncle Bill’s Plumbing business or Uncle Jerry’s construction company or the motels my family owned. They might’ve known my dear Mom or Dad. Who knows?

My cousins and Uncle usually remember a lot more folks at the reunion than I do since I didn’t live in Murdo very long. That’s why I like going, because they make me feel better and make me feel like I’m part of something bigger.They fill in the blank parts of my life growing up partly in Murdo. They include me and can connect me to some awfully kind, friendly South Dakotans. They’re part of my history.

We four just met in Rapid City this past July for a school reunion in Murdo where we met MG’s fans and drank rhubarb shakes and had a bbq and dance, and attended Bill’s special 60 year alumni dinner, but we’re ready for another reunion no matter what kind it is. You might call us Reunion Groupies or Sanderson Groupies. Maybe we like to go to these things because we’re getting older and when you’re our age, it’s heartwarming to look back at all the good times, to know others remember you and your relatives. You fit in with their lives. They might even recall dumb things you did when you were young, and they still can laugh about it, even if you can’t. The stories abound, true or not.

So we will let you know about the Arizona Reunion and what it’s like, and share pictures and selfies. It will be a lot of fun. By the way, if you know of any other reunions coming up this spring or summer, can you let me know? Maybe you can get us an invitation or just pass the word along that we’re fun people…Reunion people. Thanks.

2022 at the Rhubarb Drive In, MG, me, Sherri Miller, and Dianna Diehm

By Valerie Halla and Ninny

Through the miraculous, magical advances in technology and ESP I am able to tell you about my recent trip with my parents to the Pacific Northwest. It was challenging for me as a dog, but I somehow managed a week of driving, visiting relatives, lots of time in the car, (I was in the backseat of the car), and staying in strange hotels. We visited my other Mom, her husband and their human kid, and my stepsister dog. The relatives have a nice house. I hung out on blankets on their couch most of the time.

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They pretty much ignored me because this mini-human kid got most all the attention. He’s short, walks with a weird jerky step, talks gibberish, whines, cries and eats the dog’s food sometimes. I avoided the little human and also stayed away from my giant stepsister dog Tulu. She got the idea to leave me alone when I snarled and showed her my remaining 12 teeth. I have to admit that I can be pretty fierce even at 77 years of age.

We traded the bomb cyclones, atmospheric rivers, rainstorms and flooding during an entire month in California, for the Pacific Northwest with its almost daily rain which they call “drizzle,” winds, clouds, fog and cold. What a change. We were there about a week but it’s all a blur to me. I got lots of walks and slept pretty well as you can see.

The humans went to a museum, out for dinner and ordered food delivered or cooked a bit. I got fed the same good food they always give me later at night after we were alone in our room. The mini-human got fed regularly, almost constantly and they even cut up his food into tiny pieces for him. Turns out he doesn’t have many teeth either. They kept saying, “He’s teething.” I didn’t see him teething on much, just soft food although he crunched on poor Tulu’s kibble which seemed to upset his parents. My parents Ohhhed and Awwwed a lot over the little kid, even though I couldn’t see him doing many tricks. He couldn’t even walk very smoothly or retrieve any sticks or balls. He fell a lot. Not graceful like Tulu and me. He didn’t ask politely to go outside to do his “business” and wore something called a diaper. It was disgusting to think about. The kid was treated like some kind of royal Corgi.

After what seemed like days driving, we finally got home to California last night. Roads were flooded so we came into our neighborhood using some backroads and we’re relieved to be back to California which is once again sunny and warm. I have been out in my own backyard many times since we got home smelling my favorite trees and bushes and marking my territory with the way dogs do. Sorry. I’m too well trained and polite to explain that to you.

HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS

Whether You Want it or not, You Got it: Weather

by Valerie Halla

You probably listen to or read your local weather predictions regularly. Especially important in the winter, is how is it looking for snow or extreme cold or rain? And what should I wear today? The weather has been extreme lately with severe blizzards, freezing temperatures and flooding in many areas of the country. We’re all interested in the weather.

My sons were joking around about how meteorologists are coming up with some interesting new terms in weather forecasts. The meteorologists want our attention. There are actually scary parts of what used to be just a simple clear cut weather prediction. It’s been jazzed up and seems more like a horror movie. Now you hear that your area should prepare for a possible “Bomb Cyclone”. Do I need to get out my gas mask and helmet? Should I stay in the cellar with provisions for a few weeks? Aren’t Bomb Cyclones kinda like, well, BOMBS!?!

In California where I live, we’re getting lots of wind and rain. Not just normal, regular old wet rain but “Atmospheric Rivers” that actually live up in the atmosphere like streams or rivers ready to dump record breaking amounts of that wet stuff on our communities. Rivers up in the sky! Who thinks of these way out terms? People who want to spook us? Can’t they just call them dark clouds or rain clouds? And there’s not just one river. Nope. It’s a bunch of rivers up there waiting to shock you with lots of WATER! Are you scared yet?

Also, the weather man or woman or monster wants you to know what the “Hydrologic Outlook” might be. Really? That sounds even scarier than Bomb Cyclone because I have no idea what it means. So I Google it, of course. Basically it means it’s going to rain and the weather people (some of them being vampires) will guess how much.

My two sons are fighting back. When they saw a neighbor’s garbage cans set out in the street and blown over in a storm, the garbage blowing all around became “Flaming Garbage Tornadoes.” They also couldn’t drive one morning because of low thick fog. It became a “Nuclear Fog Blast”.

So stay vigilant and ready. You might not want weather interfering in your life but you got it. Be prepared. These weather fronts could hit your home. A low pressure system could hit bringing with it many clouds of dirty laundry. Or you could be slammed with a gradual clearing of clutter leading to a high pressure front of messy counters and greasy dishes. It’s all too frightening.

Hang in there. Bye for now. Gotta go watch the news and hear the weather forecast.

Advice from Lav by Lav

I have excellent advice for you. Maybe you are skeptical. Maybe you have gotten advice all your life, both good and bad. It might’ve been bad advice, and not worked out for you, but this is coming from me- Lav. I also have a strong cohort who has backed up this bit of information. We came up with it and it’s too good to ignore. I cannot divulge this person’s name. I am sworn to semi-secrecy. Give it a try.

It has to do with arguments or argumentative people. Know any of those? Maybe you have never been in an argument. You have never argued with your spouse or significant other. Yeah, right, when pigs oink, I mean fly.

I have at least one disagreement per hour, uh… per day with my husband. Neither of us wins. So HERE IT IS: when I say, “By George, you might be right!” he stops and looks shocked. Maybe it’s because his name isn’t George or maybe something just happened. He could be right and there’s nothing to disagree with! Why continue to argue? My husband can’t believe it. He always thinks he’s right. (When all along, I am most likely right.) It stops and I can go on with my exciting life. I get on with my web smurfing and binge watching hobby.

If you’re disagreeing with your friend about that boyfriend in high school who liked me not you, just stop, pause, lower your voice and say, “Hey, I think you’re right. He didn’t really ever take me to the Frosty for a burger or rhubarb shake.” Your friend will feel better and might try to carry on your fighting and feel the need to continue, so just repeat it. “Maybe you’re right.” Well, it has been a long time since you were in high school. Probably about a century. Memories might be a bit shaky. Then smile and do not get sucked back into the game. A hug might even help. Just do not ever tell your friend you not only had a cheeseburger and rhubarb shake with her boyfriend but you had fries. That’s big. Shhh.

I sure wish I had tried this trick sooner. Being right most of the time has been an affliction. I’m a smart, intelligent, brainy, highbrow, witty person. However, there comes a point when others don’t want to acknowledge what a genuine gall darn genius I am. Therefore, I have learned after decades maybe years, to use this trick making people think they’re right. Or thinking they might be right.

So many important questions could’ve been fixed. Would this have worked when the ancient scientific question came up: is the Earth flat or round? Does Kim Carcrashing touch up her TikTok photos? Is there a weird message at the end of the Beatles album when played back? Does Polly Darton wear gloves? Who voiced Mickey Mouse in cartoons and should Donald Duck wear pants? These are all huge things. Whatever your opinion, if you feel strongly enough, and find yourself in an argument; just stop and try that ingenious approach, tricky though it might seem, maybe you’re right but tell your argumentative opponent- “Okay, you might be right”

You’re welcome.

BTW: please don’t contact Lav regarding any results from her advice. She might be a smarty pants but she holds no counseling credentials, medical license nor training in anything…really.

This just in… Donald Duck, “I have never worn pants, and I’m not going to start now.”
You’re absolutely right, DD.

Mickey Mouse, “ No one dubs my voice ever. It’s all me including my voice.” Okay, you might be right.

by Valerie Halla

HAIR

Down to here -Down to there -Down to there?
Down to where?
It stops by itself -Don’t never have to cut it ‘Cause it stops by itself.

I was talking today with my cousin and we mentioned relatives and their hair. Her mother had her course thick hair dyed and permed for many years, but one time she told her hair stylist to color some strands differently. She said that the hair on your scalp isn’t all the same tone. Some hairs are lighter and vary in shades, so she told the gal to change the color up. Don’t color it all black. Whatever the outcome to that hair color session, I am glad I wasn’t there. My mother’s hair got gray while she was still young but one strip of hair in front stayed dark brown for a long time and she looked kind of like a skunk with stripes. Later she had it a lovely silver gray and done in a stylish bouffant that complemented her slim pretty face and hazel eyes.

After my father passed away and we attended my father’s memorial service at Cypress Lawn, we had friends, neighbors and family members over to my parent’s house. My mother and I had bought lots of food and put it out buffet style. Mom hadn’t had time to go to her beauty parlor to get her hair done. As my mom greeted people and kept the food coming, her sister, Loretta, came quietly up next to her with a small thin brush and gently brushed my mom’s hair, patting it in certain places, and tenderly trying to smooth it. She didn’t say a word, but the love was apparent.My mom kept right on talking. I’m sure that gesture helped settle my mom’s nerves since she was still in shock and sadness after losing her husband of 57 years.

Getting your hair done, is quite relaxing and I often get sleepy just sitting in the salon chair, having someone fix my hair. I go away feeling 100% better. I can’t ever replicate the way the stylist fixes my hair, but I love the feeling of someone else pampering me. I think women are obsessed with having nice hair. In the 1960’s, I wore my hair long and straight, even ironing it. My friends and I tried to copy Cher or surfer girl styles. Big hair was popular and hair was big. My friend got me to attend the Aquarius Theater LA performance of the musical “Hair” with my boyfriend, later husband, in the late 1960’s. My friend had seen about 20 performances and knew every line and lyric of the loose plot. The show reflected the times: the draft, the Vietnam War, protests, free love, free speech, hippies, rebellion, flower power, and of course lots of hair. Then there was the nude scene at the end, which in the ‘60’s was quite risqué. I wasn’t sure that I had even seen anyone nude at the end with the lighting turned down low, and a jumble of cast members all posed like statues. Still we felt like this was groundbreaking theater and the songs were good: Aquarius, Good Morning Starshine, I Believe in Love.

My cousin once said she used to color her hair gray, but now she has it a pretty dark brown, cut short. I went with longer hair and blonde streaks. I didn’t want to see how I’d look with the gray. Getting older, we also deal with thinning hair.A thick head of hair is associated with the young. Some politicians and celebrities get expensive scalp surgery to add to their thinning hair, making them maybe feel younger, however, the rest of their body knows. It all goes to show how important we hold our hair. My friends won’t even meet up for coffee or lunch on their “sacred” hair salon appointment days. I wonder when my next appointment is. Can’t wait.

Gimme a head with hair, Long beautiful hair, Shining, gleaming, Streaming, flaxen, waxen,

Hair ( hair hair hair hair hair)- Grow it, Show it, Long as I can grow it, My hair.

We hear it all the time currently, “Happy New Year!” Really?

What if I am not ready? Can I just ignore January 1st? Can I let it go by? Would it hurt to still write 2022 on forms, checks, letters, in journals or diaries? Would it feel any different to not recognize the new year? People might correct me or say I am wacko, crazy and out of touch. That’d be all right. If I ignore this new year, dare I say it: 2023… will it still come, sneak up on me? I do not want it. No thank you. Will it still happen?

The answer is YES. But you knew that. Poets and writers and scholars and scientists and historians have known it. Everyone knows. “Time waits for no man.” Heck, I am still eating Christmas leftovers. There are stains on the table cloth from prime rib. The poinsettia is still vibrant. Tree is up! Some people leave their CHRISTMAS TREES up for months after it’s over. Maybe they think that will ward off the New Year. HA! Nope, no, uh uh.

Then there’s New Year’s Eve. Gosh almighty and darn it. I’m not going to any parties nor celebrations. I’m not drinking any alcohol. Nor am I eating special appetizers. Just leave me alone in my easy chair and I will get through it. I’m going to bed around 10:00 pm like usual, even though the loud fireworks and neighbors will probably wake me around midnight. It’s just another night. Go away.

What’s so new about New Years? They always show some baby in drawings symbolizing a new year next to an old man as the old year. I can identify because I feel pretty old as well. But did that guy get that old in just one year? Is it all a joke?

So have a good time and enjoy the page turning in our book to a New Fresh Baby Year. I’m going to be here in my easy chair…complaining. It’ll just be another day, another year, another baby popping up, happy or not.

CHRISTMAS PREP AND PLANS

Here at our house we have been working on special traditions in cooking and planning, not to mention cleaning and decorating.

My husband preps his fillings for Pierogi for days, cooking potatoes, sautéed onions and grating cheese. He makes a mashed potato filling and stores it in containers. He also fries bacon and chops the crisp bacon finely to add later. Another day he makes a sauerkraut with chopped sautéed mushrooms and onions filling. Then on another day he makes a sticky dough, kneads it and rolls it out. He cuts out circular pieces and puts a small amount of filling on each piece and folds it over, sealing the edges with a fork pressed around the edges. They will be boiled and served hot on Christmas Eve night with sour cream at our big dinner along with prime rib, potato cream cheese casserole, veggies, salad and homemade apple pie for dessert.

I love sending and receiving cards over the holidays. I mailed 60 photo cards this year of our family pose taken on Thanksgiving. Many people sent cards back. We received an interesting one yesterday from Cousin JEFF H. The letter was a holiday quiz with descriptions about each person in his and his wife’s family with a letter given next to each. Then blanks were typed where you could match descriptions with names. A tiny paper was enclosed separately with the answers! Clever and unique idea. Most people sent cards with short messages about how they were doing. I save the cards for sharing with my kids or just rereading later to make me feel the happiness again.

We did not decorate much at all. Getting lazy in old age. Just put out a few poinsettias and little tree. Our two sons arrive today so I make beef stew and cornbread which has been a tradition since they were kids. A few gifts will be passed out this weekend. One fun tradition is seeing the two dogs rip open their gifts! They each get a toy and a special treat. Funny seeing them go at it. So we will enjoy chatting, a movie maybe and some walks downtown, but the joy of the holidays will surround us and being with family is the best part. Happy holidays from our house to yours.

Baba’s riveting Christmas cooking video makes news!!! She discloses that she has a fatal flaw. You heard it here first, folks!!! She is Con-de-sending, which in layman’s terms means she cons de people into sending her recipes. YeaH!

Following her cooking segment, Baba invites us to take a short walk with her while she tries to snag a short interview. I’m happy to say the interviews are short…er the interviewees are short. Or maybe they are short with her. IDK

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As we have thought back over our lives, growing up with these aunts and uncles as our role models, our guide, our family, we wanted to share some memories of them. These write-ups have been a tribute to the six SANDERSONS all born during the early 1900’s – 1926. They lived through WWI, the Great Depression and the Dirty Thirties plus WWII. Talking it over, Cousin Mary said to me when she had the idea, “Their lives stuck in our minds. They dropped little jewels and stories. We learned from what they lived.” She wanted me to just write about them from my point of view. It would be a series, a story of growing up and learning from them. Maybe you have known some of them or had family members like them. They were pillars in their community. They were our family foundations. They came from strong, solid stock.

Uncle Wayne had a black dog named Smokey who chased cars and later a black dog named McGee. He worked hard all his life and enjoyed his farm on White River later in life, calling it Green Acres. He liked dancing also and attended several dances in his later years. I didn’t know until many years later, after he had passed away, that he and one of the family’s neighbors,Gene Thomas, were great friends. Uncle Wayne talked baseball with Gene who didn’t quite understand it all.

My mother, Ella, was the second born arriving on December 12, 1914, although Grandpa SANDERSON got the date wrong and she always had trouble with her birth certificate for some reason. The day she was born, the doctor came out to their rented farm with a team and sleigh riding up over fences on deep snowdrifts. There seem to be many more baby photos of the two first born than the other four which most new parents usually do. She was named after her parent’s mothers- Ella Elizabeth. She is a part of me now and always.

Melvin Eugene came next in 1916. He had his father’s same initials, but a nickname stuck and he was Jeff for life. He and his wife, our Aunt Irma, volunteered to help their community of Murdo unselfishly on countless projects and in many ways. Too many to list. They gave back in volumes.

Aunt Helen was born next and always loved life to its fullest seeing the glass half full. She loved children, having four of her own, the most of the six SANDERSONS. (When we got together for reunions, we other cousins thought Bobby and Blake were cute and world wise. They were cool.) I still have some of her recipes as she was a good cook. She always looked slim, trim and neatly dressed and coiffed. She was a selfless giving person.

Aunt Loretta came next and thinking that she would be their last born, Grandpa called her Babe. She could be fiery hot with a temper, or quietly contemplative at times. She intrigued me yet scared me. I had never known anyone like her. She was probably one of the first successful and unique business women in Murdo. Stories about her abound within our family. She kept cash in her refrigerator lettuce drawer, she kept family and cousins working at her motel, she called people with one line of gossip then hung up…”So and so is pregnant.” Boom.

Aunt Elna was born in 1926, last and certainly not least. The family came back from a trip to Iowa when Elna was small. Her parents gave her a gift when they got home. She opened the box and inside was a puppy. She got scared and cried. That gift didn’t work out. As she grew up in Murdo. Elna enjoyed driving uptown checking out the motels or going out for coffee. She would go into places just whistling a tune or humming a sweet song. Even into her later years, she worked, helping at the Range Country. She was a joy to know.

They aren’t gone. The SANDERSON cousins, 12 of us, and dear Stephanie in heaven, have them living with us, the good memories and some bad ones maybe, living inside our minds, our hearts, however, some memories slowly fading as we grow old, still a part of us. We come from good stock.

Below is a slideshow of some old family photos…

The last child born on October 17, 1926 to ME and Mary SANDERSON was Elna Jeanette in Murdo, SD. She spent her early years on Horse Creek. She was talented from the start where she was drawn to studying music in school in Murdo.

She also clerked in the family general store selling dry goods and even shoes. Everyone in the family had to work. All six children were expected to help out. In old photos of the family, Elna is obviously much younger than the other kids seen wearing her plaid school girl outfit flashing her lovely smile. Her older sisters carried her around as a baby and toddler. My Mom remembers little Elna seeing her mother baking a cake and declaring, “Not nut cake but coconut cake.” The older kids cheered her on for speaking clearly as a toddler.

On September 29, 1945 – the same year my Mother, Ella, got married – Elna married Gerald R. Miller of Draper, SD. They lived in Bell Gardens, California for a year before moving back to Jones County in 1947. Two daughters, Andrea and Stephanie and one son, Greg, were blessed with a devoted mother. Andrea was born the same year I was. My Mom gave me a short version of Elna’s middle name Jeanette- my middle name being Jean. Elna was a natural Mom and housekeeper. I remember the orange nasturtiums she grew out front of the darling house in Murdo. She loved her family and neighbors. She helped with many church events and family gatherings.

My memories of Aunt Elna are deeply intertwined with my Mom, her sister, because they were close and kept in touch often writing letters every day to their siblings. Aunt Elna’s letters were written in small cursive strokes and often she would write along the edges and tops so as to get in one more thought on paper or cards. My cousin, Bill, would be handed a letter from Elna as he sat visiting my folks in California sometimes. He had a tough time reading Aunt Elna’s small handwriting and as he struggled he would turn the letter around to read the edges. Frustrated, Bill would say, “I can read Aunt Elna’s letters except when she goes along the sides and writes up over the top, I’m through!”

I would stop by Aunt Elna and Uncle Jerry’s house during the two years we lived in Murdo and she was always at work washing floors on her hands and knees, or cleaning something or ironing . She was also a great cook and baker. Her house was always tidy. She would chat about local issues or people and ask what’s new from uptown. Sometimes I would get lucky and she would play the old upright piano with a modern popular song or oldies from WWII or a Broadway musical. She had a real ear for music and was a beautiful singer, too. She had even played with a band at Westover Hall as a young woman.

Aunt Elna loved being with family and especially liked going out for pie and coffee with her sister, Loretta, and taking Grandma SANDERSON along. They would talk and laugh and as a friend, Elsa Peck, told me, “Those SANDERSON girls would get together and talk and tell stories, then slap their knees erupting with loud laughter. They had the most fun.” Aunt Elna’s laugh was the best. If you heard her giggle then break into a full laugh, you’d want to join in. It was infectious.

Later on in life Elna liked helping at the family’s Range Country Lodging. She would help sweep sidewalks and polish windows. The staff there had to stop her one day trying to sweep outside as winds gusted to around 50 mph.

Elna was always dressed smartly and had her hair done in a manner that complimented her face and blue eyes. There’s a photo of her in a sleeveless white top worn with a pencil thin skirt. I remember thinking how cool she looked and young. She seemed to like wearing bright colors as I recall. I mentioned how she worked hard and kept her household running smoothly but she also knew how to relax and I can see her now, sitting calmly lounged in a chair with one arm resting up around the chair back or stretched on the couch telling we kids to please keep the noise down since she needed to rest.

We were all lucky to have Aunt Elna in our lives growing up. As a role model, you couldn’t ask for a stronger, more feminine, kinder example to follow. All the SANDERSON girls were beautiful but more than that, they made you feel important and even as a kid you were included. Elna spoke to me like I was one of the adults and I talked to her like a friend, not just my aunt. She joked around with us and we laughed a lot. How much we miss her, the last born of the SANDERSONS, but one of the best. Thanks for the music and laughter, Aunt Elna, but mostly thanks for being you.