Murdo Girl…Queenology

The need for Queenology can’t be overstated

I don’t know if you know this, but Queens aren’t regulated

You don’t have to pass a test or prove qualifications

 

No license is required, to be the Queen of Queen ruled nations

You can soak up all the glamour and not do a lick of work.

Folks bow to your feet, hoping for a Queenie perk.

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But being a Queen ain’t as easy as you’d think

Queenology tells us, it can truly stink

You must wear a crown, or a hat most every minute

And that formal dress? They want to see you in it.

 

No jeans or tennis shoes and you won’t be eating steak.

You really can’t afford it. No money will you make.

If you eat all that good bad stuff, you soon will realize,

You won’t fit where you used to. Sunroofs are just one size

 

Yes Queens are pretty special. I’m sure you’ve seen a few,

BUT SERIOUSLY!!!…HAVE YOU SEEN THESE TWO?

 

Long live the Queen…and she is… believe you me.

But you’ll get tired of waving, and sick of drinking tea.

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When you’re little you’re a princess, looking for a prince.

When you get a little older, he just might make you wince

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Go ahead and be a Queen, now that you know it can be done

But if it really was that easy… wouldn’t all old broads be one?

 

 

Murdo Girl…Small town smarts and a message to the MHS class of 68

I think Mom and my aunt were two of the cleverest people who ever lived. They were never without a plan. They were never caught flat-footed. I never, ever, saw them unable to meet a situation that called for a plan, without one.

 

 

Let’s use the telephone as an example. Back when I was growing up, if the phone rang, you answered it. There was no way of knowing who was going to be on the other end. It could be an important call that you wouldn’t want to miss. If it was juicy news, and you didn’t answer, the caller would just go on to the next person on the grapevine. There was no such thing as voicemail, either. If you missed an important call, you could only hope the party would call back. But then there were those “other” calls. The ones you would rather have missed. The ones from the PTA asking you to bake cookies, or the ones from the ladies who could talk for hours and not tell you one iota of interesting news. These are the calls that gave birth to the plans.

My aunt always answered the phone with a pitiful voice… (cough)…hello…(cough). If the caller was someone she wasn’t in the mood to spend time conversing with, she could say she wasn’t feeling well, and would weakly ask if they could call back another time. If it was someone she wanted to hear from, my aunt recovered quickly.

I’ve told you about Mom’s trick. She would hang up when she was in the middle of a sentence. She said no one would ever believe she hung up on herself. They’ll think they got disconnected. If the party called right back, the line would be…busy. It’s hard to believe anybody would ever call them, isn’t it?

I remember Mom’s excitement one day when she read Erma Bombeck’s plan for dealing with unexpected visitors. Don’t worry about getting caught with a dirty house, she advised. You should invite them right in. All you have to do is put some get well cards all over and people will think you’ve been too sick to clean. It’s funny…I don’t remember my mother ever being “for real” sick. I would be afraid all of that pretending would tempt fate. I would fake being sick and then really get sick.

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Mom came up with some good plans, but she was always willing to learn from others like Erma Bombeck or Ann Landers.

You’ve gotta love small towns. I’ll always love my hometown.

Speaking of Murdo, I got a message from Marilyn Kinsley Strait. The class of 1968 is gathering contact information for a potential get together. You can send information and updates to cmstrait@goldenwest.net (Marilyn).

It’s been fifty years since you spent your last day as classmates and I really hope you have a well attended reunion.

 

 

I was looking at the only MHS annual I have. It belonged to Connie Jackson and was given to me by her brother, Eddie. He discovered I spent most of my high school years trying to be “Connie like” and knew how much I would treasure having a little piece of her history. It’s the 1967 annual which was the year all of you were Juniors. (My small town smarts in action.) Some of the comments you classmates wrote inside are priceless.

 

 

I hope you give yourself the gift of going back and sharing memories of those high school years. Please pass the information on to anyone who might not read Murdo Girl. There can’t be that many.

A few youngsters from the class of 70

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Songs from 1968 to get you feeling nostalgic…

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Happy 50th!

 

Murdo Girl…Water We Doing?

When they said they were going to put in our water and sewer this week, they didn’t mean today. Just thought I would let you know. They did come by sometime this afternoon and put in two more little flags in preparation. We must have seven or eight flags now, marking the spot where they will sooner or later be digging. Shoot, I’d go dig it out with a spoon if it would speed things up.

It’s okay…we have more to do than we can say grace over, and we’re so much slower than we used to be… and we tire easily. We are moving things in and making plans to be rid of those things that will no longer have a place in our lives, though still in our hearts. Oh come on! It’s just stuff!

We took our broken pictures to Michael’s in Mesquite yesterday to be framed. We also took two of Kip’s Grandpa, on his ranch in Big Piney, Wyoming, to be re-framed. Big Piney is always the coldest spot in the nation. We all love these pictures of Grandpa McNinch wearing his holy felt hat and frayed denim shirt. You can see the photos being transported in the shopping cart, but I will take better pictures of the pictures when we pick them all up in two weeks.

We also shopped, yesterday, for short stools to fit around our little kitchen island and tall stools for the high counter. We won’t have a table, but six people can sit comfortably in those two places. Of course, there will still be room for the plate balancers who can sit in the recliners in the living room. (I hate recliners, but if I want to stay married to Kip, I have to tolerate them.) We didn’t buy any high/low stools yesterday, but we did today. They’ll be here Thursday.

So as of right now, we’re still only visitors in our tiny home, but we love the neighborhood and we’re going to love our tiny house, big brown barn, and teeny shed.

Lovely lighting under the cabinets.  I can’t wait to sit by the fire pit and drink my coffee in the mornings. I can even see the lake from my perch on the porch.

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Thankfully, we didn’t ruin the “Stick with Me” canvas I got as a housewarming present for Kip when we moved into our previous abode, the small house.

We’ll let you know how the water watch works out tomorrow. Remember the only people with perfect lives are the ones we don’t know very well. ( I just heard that phrase and I like it.)

Murdo Girl…Forward thinker

Tiny home update

We have been on a rollercoaster and we’re frazzled. We got the electricity to the box, today, and were told we had to request a work order for the meter, which would take seven to ten working days. After talking to three people, they came back and put the meter in and the company that provides the electricity turned the lights on.

Next step…water and sewer

We had to wait until the electricity was on to arrange for the sewer and water hook-ups. When I called today, they said the wait time is usually three to six weeks. I couldn’t find the words to respond, and it’s probably a good thing. Others told us different things and the end result is they are going to bless us with water and sewer connections next week. We should be able to live in the place by the end of next week. We will be doing more than whistling while we wait. We have plenty to do.

In the meantime, someone from the county came by and said our driveway was a couple of feet too long. That will be taken care of by the contractor. He’s a good guy.

And another thing…

Last night, I had a table at a two-hour literacy event at the Mabank High School. It was their first time to host a function with the focus on inspiring kids to read more books. They decided to have it this time of year so students will be encouraged to continue to expand their world by reading during summer vacation.

Soo’-tah, from Dakotah’s Story, and Pearl the dog, from Connie’s story, were hits as were the rabbit ears you must wear when you sing the “Beasterhop” song.

I had a great time talking to kids of all ages about my books and I read We Shall See what We Shall See to the little children. Other readers included firemen, policemen, and Martha Washington. There was one other local author there. She and I enjoyed exchanging ideas and talking about the difficulties of putting a book together.There were several community organizations represented and countless books were handed out to all the students. They offered popcorn, pizza, snow cones and giveaways. They had games and drawings for prizes. A good time was had by all! every school should do this and involve the whole community.

Earlier in the day…

“Where is the mini monarchy Cam? Those ladies are laughing at us. I told you not to wear the toilet seat. You look much better in a lampshade.” 

All the above took place after I attended a special birthday party for the four, April birthday girls. It was at Fran’s house. She is so delighted that it appears Kip and I will finally be their new neighbors. I know the wait must feel like an eternity to them. Well, Fran and Scott… we’re almost ready to occupy the tiny home with Kip’s gynormous brown barn behind it, that dwarfs my teeny shed. Don’t become alarmed if you see a few things flying through the air as Kip and I sort out who has to store what in “their” space. You wouldn’t happen to have a little extra room in your garage would you? I guess I can always ask Linda and Leroy if they have some extra attic room.” I just love nice neighbors.

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I’m getting a little ahead of myself. Have you ever noticed that most forward thinkers come from small towns and graduated with a small class? I have only talked to a couple of people from small towns whose graduating class was smaller than mine (twenty-seven). One of the people I talked to was my brother. I think he graduated with eleven and he’s a real forward thinker…and a minimalist like me.

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 love this poster… It’s so true!

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…Putting Murdo back together

I found out they tore down the old Jones County State Bank, today. Do you know what that means? Murdo has temporarily lost another iconic building. Before we know it, the fifties and sixties will be nothing but history. I have personally been waging a war against changing Murdo.

The Brick House gang has already reprised the old Murdo High School and the elementary school buildings. Fern’s Cafe and Mack’s Cafe have both reopened. Joy Payne’s dress shop, the Murdo Show house, and Gambles are purring along. Beckwith’s Jewelry Store is next to Joy Payne’s. Mr. Beckwith is good at fixing watches and his kids are good at music.

The Post Office is back where it should be, and Thune Hardware is next to the drug store. The dry cleaners, on the other side of Mowell’s Drug Store, is still a much needed business in Murdo. There’s a locker for people to take their meat if they don’t have a freezer at home, and the Buffalo Bar is across the street from the locker. The Gem Hotel, the Murdo Hotel and the Laundromat are all uptown, too.

Super Value still has the Frosty Freeze attached to it, and we have five or six full service gas stations. In addition to Mack’s and Fern’s, you can eat at Highway 16 Cafe and the Teepee. It’s pretty new.

Most importantly, Sanderson’s Store is just as it always was…Aunt Tet lives upstairs and the Leckeys are living in the apartment across the hall. Doc Bork is our dentist and Doc Murphy makes house calls. Uncle Jerry builds all the new houses and Dad has a plumbing and heating business.

Graham Motor Lodge is under construction and they’re going to have a swimming pool. Mom runs our little motel called the Chalet which is across the highway from Grahams. The Gonzales, Boysens, Wheelers, Iversons (The Red Top), and Laura Hayden all have motels, too. (I might have spelled some of those names wrong.)

There are a couple of beauty shops in Murdo and Kitty Reynolds sews for more than a few families. People buy their cars from the Ford Garage and the Pioneer Auto Museum is almost as well known as Wall Drug.

The ladies in town play a lot of bridge, and drink a lot of coffee. They probably gossip more than they should. Nobody likes to miss coffee because they can only talk about the ones who aren’t there. After coffee, Mom and Aunt Elna go home and call each other to gossip about the gossip. It’s a lot to keep up with.

The boys have football, basketball and track and the girls have basketball. There are no home economics classes offered, but the moms who can cook, teach their girls. Makes sense to me. I already know how to make chocolate chip cookies. What else do I need to know?

I love the new Swanson’s fried chicken TV dinners and Mom makes baked potatoes with chicken pot pies. We mush them all together on our plate. It’s very filling and good! She makes roasts and all kinds of other good stuff.

When kids go steady, the girls sit in the middle of the front seat of the boys car, even if the car has bucket seats. They drive around town for hours. I don’t know how they can do that. Gas is 35 cents a gallon. The girls also wear the boy’s class rings and make them fit by sticking wadded up tape under the wide part.

There are lots of little stock dams where guys like Grandpa Sanderson like to fish. You can boat but you can’t swim at the North dam. We swim at the East dam, and fish at the South dam. One time when Billy was going to be late for school, Mom didn’t make him go. We all hate to be late for anything. Anyway, he went fishing at the South dam and someone caught him and called him a truant.

Yup…I’m taking it upon myself to keep Murdo just like it was, so whoever wants to help me is more than welcome. Those guys who tore down the bank can just put it back together again.

Guess I’ll put an ad in the Murdo Coyote.

Murdo Girl…90 years ago

When the M.E. Sanderson family lived on Horse Creek, which is about ten miles south of Murdo, SD, the kids all went to a country school. Mom, who was one of six children often talked about the Osborn kids. They were a family of thirteen offspring, and the kids all attended the same country school.

Mom was only eleven when her family moved closer to town which meant the kids would all go to town school. Mom, of course, made it sound like she was really moving up in the world. She always told the story that one of the Osborn girls said they would miss Helen and Ella, (Mom’s older sisters), but they wouldn’t miss her.wp-1524104921128.jpg

My friend, Dianna, found this picture of the Osborn family in later years. Her Aunt was an Osborn…one of the thirteen kids. It really is a small world.

I haven’t heard a lot of Horse Creek stories, but Aunt Elna, Mom’s younger sister, once told me of a Christmas memory she had. The family had returned from visiting relatives in Iowa just in time for Christmas. Little Elna was given a box and when she opened it, a puppy jumped out and scared her to death. She wanted nothing to do with her new pet, which wasn’t the expected reaction. She was only five when they moved, but she had that one vivid memory of life on Horse Creek.

Mom was never interested in housework or cooking. She left helping Grandma up to the other girls. She preferred the outdoor chores and helping with the livestock. One day she was off by herself riding one of the horses. The horse was startled by something and shied which caused Mom to fall off. Wanting some sympathy for her frightening fall, she tried her best to cry until she got home. It turned out, she wasn’t injured that severely and couldn’t keep the tears flowing, therefore, no one felt sorry for her when she told them of her harrowing experience.

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This photo is of the Sanderson and the Thomas families. Mom is the one with the short dark hair. Her sister, Ella is the taller girl standing next to her and Helen is next to Ella. Jeff is in front with his hand over his heart. Grandpa is second from the left in the back row. Grandma is next to him, (big hat), and Wayne is behind Ella and Helen.

Wayne was the oldest of the Sanderson kids. When he was bitten by a rattlesnake and Grandpa cut a slit with his knife and sucked the venom out, I’m sure Mom was impressed. I know I would have been. Now they say that type of emergency treatment isn’t the right thing to do. I bet Wayne would argue that point, as he had no serious after effects.

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I think this is Grandma’s parents with Grandpa and Grandma, (holding the baby). I think the baby is Ella and the little boy is Jeff. I don’t know who the woman is standing next to Grandpa.

I’ve been to Horse Creek a few times over the years. I remember the picnic we had there with the Haverberg cousins, from Michigan,and Mark and Jeff H. Sanderson. I was probably about the age Mom was when the family moved. Part of the old log cabin was still standing.

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The land is now owned by Dan Height. When my cousin, Greg, told told him Mom had requested she be cremated and her ashes spread around Horse Creek, he graciously allowed us to drive a caravan of 4-wheel drives, off-road, to the site of the old log house. The day was beautiful as was the landscape. I looked at all the relatives spreading Mom’s ashes around, and I could almost hear Mom saying, “So there, Osborn kids!”

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Murdo Girl…Listen up

If you have in your mind that you would like to unencumber yourself from stuff, you will learn everything you need to know right here on the Murdo Girl blog. I won’t let you down. This is not an easy transition, but together we can make it happen.

Several years ago, I was involved in a training the trainer, training and I learned to teach people how to reach their goals. We are going to use the SMART goal method to get where we need to be. Even if this is not the time for you to downsize, or at least get rid of the clutter, you can use the method I am going to teach you, to successfully reach your goals, whatever they are.

1. Take a piece of paper and write your goal on it. Then turn the paper over. We’ll be looking at it later. It won’t be until tomorrow or the next day.

Here is my goal.

I am going to reduce the number of material things I own so I can live comfortably without clutter. I will surround myself with those things that only have meaning or purpose in my life. I told kip he can stay. I will wear only comfortable, good quality, and easy to care for clothing. I will not have more than enough, clothes, product, costume jewelry or serving dishes.

I will, however, keep my Beasterhop and nutcracker collections.

I will reach my initial goal by one month from the day we move into our tiny home.

Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Realistic, Timed…SMART

I’m starting with my wardrobe.

I had to try on some stuff, but I was steadfast and brutal. Sheesh! Look at all those jackets? Can’t have all those hanging around in a tiny home.

It is important to identify obstacles you will face. It took me all day to go through my RV closet. I had already practiced by filling a plastic bag with clothes and putting them in my Jeep. I went out there twice to retrieve something. I traded those things for something else in my closet that weren’t “me.”

The obstacle??? I love, love, love, resale shops and they love me. I confess that I have some pretty great finds, but much of what I purchased doesn’t meet the criteria listed in my goal.

Here is what I did with the items I culled today.

I ordered a bag online from Thred up. You fill it with quality clothing, purses and jewelry and take it to the post office. They pay the postage. In a few weeks, you receive a check for a small percentage of the value of the items you thought were treasures. The point is…it is gone and you cannot increase your left-behind lot in numbers. You can only add to it if you are willing to give up something. I plan to do this a lot as the seasons change.

I made a list of all the things I sent. I will record other goals in my minima list book. Go get yourself one. It will be a treasure you will want to keep.

Murdo Girl…The event

I’ll fill you in on the tiny home as soon as it stops raining…

Well, I’m on my way over to Pearl the human’s. I know you want to hear all about the pep rally fundraiser we had yesterday, but I just don’t feel like I can put it into words. If you really want to know about it, go to Sanderson’s Store and buy yourself a Murdo Coyote Newspaper. I hear that new reporter they hired didn’t miss a thing. She even dug up the whole story behind the big feud between Pearl and Queenie. It’s in the fine print.

Anyway, read all about it…………

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Associated Press…….The Feud behind the Fundraiser…by PG, MCN reporter

It was one of those, “You had to be there,” kinda gatherings. All attendees, including this reporter, couldn’t believe what they saw with their very own peepers.

It was wild from the get go. Queenie and Pearl each made a grandiose entrance. Queenie had Mr. Bradley Crandall on one side of her, and the illustrious owner of the Auto Museum on the other, which put Pearl, (who was accompanied by Pearl the Coyote-dog mascot and her longtime friend, Grace who was obviously still in pain from a broken tailbone), at an awkward disadvantage. You see Pearl is raffling off a red convertible from the auto museum, unbeknownst to the owner, who lo and behold was, as reported earlier, riding in Queenie’s car.

The whole event was planned  by Pearl and unbeknownst to her, it was a brilliant plan. Get this! There was an invitational basketball tournament in progress at the auditorium, so there was a huge crowd who soon got wind of the raffle and were more interested in who got the car than the jump ball.

Pearl marched in there with her, made specially for pep rally, purses and set up for business in the lobby.

Queenie set up a pep rally hat stand right beside her.

Then things got crazy. The hats, purses, and band uniform contest got all discombobulated.

wp-1522112982663.jpgWho could decide between Pearl’s purse and Queenie’s pom-pom hat?

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The band uniform competition was close. In the end, it was decided the old uniforms weren’t so bad.

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Not having to buy new uniforms was a good thing since the merchants were only able to sell $178.00 in tickets, which not only disturbed Pearl, but the owner of the car who didn’t know it was being raffled off.

Mr. G said, “What were you thinking, Pearl?”

Pearl said, “I was just trying to help Queenie, the PTA president, raise money for the not so much needed band uniforms.”

Queenie said, “Since when did you want to help me. I remember when you thought PTA meant, Pass the Appetizers. You brought cheese fondue to our meeting instead of cookies!”

Mr. G, “YOU’RE the one who brought that delicious fondue? Well, Pearl…your heart was in the right place, and a deal is a deal. Go ahead with the drawing.

And the winner is! Who? Someone from Ft. Pierre?

The girls scratched the pep rally. In fact, they both went into the ladie’s room and didn’t come out for the duration. I know one of them is going to be devastated by the loss and the girl from Pierre might have a new best friend.

Signing off for now, your traveling within 8.5 square miles reporter, PG for MCN.

“Can I go for another ride in the red convertible?”

Murdo Girl…Pearl’s pep rally

I’m on my way to Pearl the human’s. I probably won’t have to walk Pearl the dog ’cause Faith-Hope has been walking her ever since she got here last week. I’m sort of contorted about how I feel about her. She’s a real California girl. She has long, straight-ish hair, and she’s really pretty. Pearl and Grace fawn all over her and brag about her to everyone who will listen to them. I don’t mind so much except I miss Pearl the dog. We haven’t spent much time together since Grace broke her tailbone and Pearl the dog has been kinda my best friend for a long time now.

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Thank the Lord, Grace is doing better. She still walks funny, but she went back to her flats with the rubber bands holding them on. She’s worn them for so many years, I guess her feet are trained to walk straight in them. Pearl said that a orthodontist could fit her in better shoes, which seems kinda weird to me, but Grace doesn’t want to listen to Pearl.

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

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“I’m not sure who to tell this too, but I’m here! Is anybody home?”

I heard Pearl yell from her front room. When I got in there, I noticed she was by herself, and she was doing something I hadn’t seen her do for a while. She was smoking air cigarettes.

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“Are you still upset over the Methodist Church basement cooks and their sunrise service tea, Pearl?”

“Heavens no, Essie. I handled that days ago. They settled right down when they found out the tea didn’t have anything sinful in it. When I told them it was made from brewed tea and Tang with a couple of cinnamon sticks thrown in, they decided to serve it at all of their functions. I’ll still make a profit because they don’t know how long to brew the tea and the exact amount of Tang it takes to make it taste as delightful as I’ve convinced them only I can make it. Plus, I have given them the power of exclusivity. Sounds rather heavenly, doesn’t it?  I already talked to the Lutherans, anyway, but they weren’t interested in playing second fiddle to the Methodists.”

“Then why are you taking all the long draws on the air cigarette, Pearl?”

“Well, I’m nervous about Faith. She went south of sixteen to see her grandfather, Mr. Crandall. He bought the house Faith’s mother, Constance grew up in. I don’t think you know this, but Mr. Crandall has been seeing a woman I don’t get along with and I’m sure he’s going to convince Faith that I’ve been, well, meddling in his affairs, and I know she won’t approve.”

“Shh…here she comes. Faith…is that you, dear? Essie and I are in the front room!”

Hope came through the door, threw her purse on the floor and plopped down in a chair.

“Well, that was interesting, Grams,” she said. “Hi Ellie…get ready, you’re about to witness a showdown. “Grams over there has stirred it up again. You are too much, Grams. You are just too much!”

“Well, now, Faith…I’m ever so sorry, but I must run to Pearl’s Busy Nest. I have a busy meeting there in just a few minutes. In the meantime, I have a surprise for you! I know how much you enjoyed being a Murdo High School cheerleader. Well, being the community supporter that I am, I have planned a phenomenal event to help the PTA raise funds for new band uniforms. Anyway, change to the outfit in your room and come to the Nest as soon as you can so we can continue with this phenomenal plan of mine. Essie…there will be an outfit for you at the Nest…chop, chop, girls…I’m off!”

Hope went into her room and changed. She was laughing when she came back out.

“I can see right through those fake glasses of Gram’s and tell what she’s up to. Grandpa Crandall’s new girlfriend is the head of the PTA. They refer to her as Queenie. Grams is in a pickle, Ellie, and she is burning rubber trying to smooth it over. I just love watching her in action. I’m so glad I got back here in time for this!”

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“How do I look as a twenty-three year old cheerleader, Ellie?”

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To be continued…..Pearl gives new meaning to the cheer, “Orange and Black, Fight, Fight!!”

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