Those 70ish Girls

It’s Monday morning at the Brick House. It’s early, really early, and Murdo girl is not in the Oblong Office. She probably should be because the phone has been ringing off the hook. The town council has been trying to get local businesses and Presidencies to sign up for the Christmas pageant. It’s to be held in the Harold Thune Auditorium on Christmas Eve. 

It seems a problem has arisen. Everyone  is trying to outdo everybody else. They are all building elaborate sets. They have spent hours building and painting and decorating, not to mention the props they’re spending all their money on. The consternation is being caused because the council had to put their foot down and limit each skit to 15 minutes with only 5 minutes between presentations…not a lot of time to tear down one overblown set and put up another one.  All the participants are so worked up, the whole thing is in danger of being canceled. The proceeds from the event were earmarked for road resurfacing. I know, it doesn’t sound very glamorous, but the infrastructure is in need of repair.

The Oblong Office one hour later. Murdo Girl is on the phone.

Murdo Girl: I’m really glad you called Lav. Where have you been? The whole Coyote Cabinet has been looking for you. (MG recently beat Barney Fife in a close election for Jones County President. She ran on the Coyote ticket.)

Lav: Everyone was giving me such a hard time about the penny tattoo on my forehead, I decided to do something about it.

Murdo Girl: Really Lav? You mean you had it removed? Where did you get the money?

Lav: It only cost me $5.00. I took a correspondence course on how to remove tattoos. I was really lucky it was a penny tattoo.  All it took was some copper cleaner and a stiff brush. Hey MG! I just heard about the Christmas Pageant. Can I be the star?

Murdo Girl: That’s pretty bold of you Lav. What makes you think you should be the star of our skit?

Lav: Not that kind of star MG. I want to be the star in the sky.

Murdo Girl: Perfect Lav! Up in the sky you’ll go. Better get to work on your costume. Bye twinkle toes.

 

There is a knock on the door. It’s the Queen.

Murdo Girl: It’s good to see you Queen. You rarely leave the English room.

Queen E: There’s no need to MG. Since my quarters are just down a few steps from the Oblong Office, I can hear everything that goes on. I’m here about the skit. When will the auditions take place?

Murdo Girl: All I know is that Treason is writing the script and Pico is directing. I think TC is going to narrate. It makes sense the Town Crier would be the narrator. What part are you angling  for Queen?

Queen E: The Queen Mother of course. She just sits there and looks at the baby doesn’t she? I must have a sitting part. I have arthritis in both knees.

Murdo Girl: Ouch! I haven’t told the team yet, but there won’t be a skit if we can’t come up with the $50 entry fee. Maybe you could call Charles..

Queen E. No can do MG. Chuckles and Cam are mad because I won’t abdicate the throne. Sorry, but all my assets are tied up across the pond. Wait..let me see what I’ve got in my purse.

Murdo Girl: Never mind Queen. You never have money in your purse; and Queen..that costume isn’t exactly the look we’re going for ..wrong Madonna.

Queen E : Well, I’m off to court.

Murdo Girl: I keep telling you Queen. You don’t have a Court to rule over in Murdo. I’m the President.

Queen E.: Tell that to the Judge. I got picked up for jaywalking.

A FINE? I MUST PAY COURT COSTS? I BROUGHT CHARACTER WITNESSES. HOW ABOUT I MAKE YOU A KNIGHT AND WE CALL IT EVEN?

It’s the end of a long day for Murdo Girl. She is reflecting on the state of her administration. It’s almost Christmas. Her favorite time of the year. She would talk to Jerry the Bean Counter tomorrow. There had  to be a way to generate the $50 so her Cabinet could participate in the pageant. With all these thoughts going through her mind, she makes her way to the employee lounge. A hot cup of tea sounded good.

As she neared the door to the lounge, she heard something. It sounded like voices raised in song. She opened the door and there they all were. Her team.. DM, Pico, A I, Sherri the Photographic Drawer, Treason, Jerry the Bean Counter, TC, Yram, Lav, Carol the singer, and the Queen. They were practicing their skit for the Pageant…or were they?

 Jerry: Hi Murdo Girl. We’re glad you’re here. We’ve got something to tell you.

DM: Yeah Pres. We all put our heads together and came up with the best idea we’ve ever had! Or you could say, it’s the best idea we’ve never had.

Sherri the Photographic Drawer: The best part is we don’t have to come up with the 50 bucks for an entry fee, and it’s Live! I don’t even have to draw a photograph!

Lav: No, the best part is I get to be the Star.

Treason: This is a plan we can all get behind!

TC: I still get to cry. I mean weep. That’s what they called crying back then. I’ll be TW.

A I: Yeah, those Pageant hogs can just fall all over themselves trying to outdo each other!

Murdo Girl: Would someone please tell me what this wonderful plan is?

Yram: I will! I want to! We are going to skip the Pageant. We are going to be a “Live Nativity Scene” on the Courthouse lawn. We even have two real sheep, and a donkey. We don’t have a real baby, but Carol is going to see if she can get her granddaughter’s doll that eats, wets, and cries. It even burps when you pat it on the back. No one will even guess it’s not a real baby.

And are you ready for this President Murdo Girl? I’m going to be the head Wise Man with a little twist. I’m going to be a crack- up reporter Wise Man, and interview every Live Nativity Scene person. Don’t you love it Murdo Girl?

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Stay tuned for the Brick House Live Nativity Scene Presentation.

You don’t want to miss it!

Oh, there will be a coffee can placed in a strategic location for road repair donations.

 

I was going through my week with a reasonable amount of serenity. I wasn’t going to put up Christmas decorations this year because we didn’t get home from our trip until after Thanksgiving and the very next day, I was already behind. Our daughter is having Christmas Eve at her house, so mine really doesn’t have to be decorated.

Then I went to my friend Pat’s house. She already had her 13 plus Christmas trees up and her whole house decorated. I helped her with the yard for about 15 minutes. I didn’t ask her, but I’m sure she has all of her shopping done too. This morning at church, she told me she was still decorating. “For heaven sake what?” I asked. “Are you decorating your decorations?”

“No,” she said. “There are still a few things in the house that don’t have a bow or something on them.” She has a wonderful house to accommodate all of the decorations, and her creativity is amazing. She made a beautiful winter scene out of the styrofoam that was in the box their new television set came in. I’m not kidding. I never would have guessed. Her decorating is never overdone. It’s always beautiful. It’s a place people like to go just to look at everything and be instantly transformed from whining about having so much to do, to thinking, “How in God’s creation does she do all this? I should be able to put up one little tree!”

My  son and granddaughters at Pat and Jerry’s house last year

Pat’s husband Jerry helps haul the crates to the house and back again when everything gets packed away in mid January. I’m always surprised when I go to their house and Jerry doesn’t at least have a bow on his head and a candy cane in his mouth, but so far he’s escaped.. Quite frankly, he’s starting to look a little out-of-place.

Where was I going with all of this? It’s not what I had intended to write about. Oh yes… I decided after seeing Pat and Jerry’s house, I would at least put the tree up, so I did that last night. I looked around the house this morning, and it looked really pitiful with just the tree, so I decided to put my nutcracker collection out. I always put them on top of the kitchen cabinets, which means I have to take everything already up there down, and dust the shelves. (I really only do this because Kip is usually watching football in the living room and he can see me. I want to show him that I do dust.) I really hate dusting.

I was in the middle of all that when I checked my email, which told me I had a message from a Murdo Girl reader. The message included a picture. She said she found my perfect Christmas hat at Walmart. You guessed it. It was a Santa hat with a crown.

So here’s what I did. I dropped everything and drove to my Walmart. I looked all over that store. I searched through everything and I found lots of hats, so of course I had to look at every one of the 100 or so choices looking for…The one with the crown…I left hat and crown-less. When I left home, I told Kip I just had to have that hat. I told him it would probably only cost what? $6.00 tops? Don’t tell him this, but I would have paid at least $30.00 if I could have found it. Did I go home? No..I went to Family Dollar, Dollar Gentril, (as my friend Laura calls it), and Goodwill. No one had a Santa hat with a crown on it.

Thanks Pat and Kerri. I almost had a stress free Christmas. You two set the bar way too high. I’m only halfway through dusting and putting up nutcrackers, and I could have probably found several gifts in the time it took me to search for the crown hat.

But, all is not lost. I got really creative like my friend Pat. I’m exactly where I always am this time of year…Loonier than a Looney Tune.

Give me a little break. I left my real crown locked up in the RV and I forgot to buy a TV at Walmart to get some styrofoam.

BTW..Kip decided he’s going to put up just one of his outside decorations…Buahaha!

I love this sequence of pictures of our granddaughter, Charlie. I know how she feels and what she is thinking.

1) “I know you want me to smile, but I need a minute.”

2) “I’m going to pretend you’re not there. I need a minute.”

3) “You just don’t get it do you? I need a minute.”

4) “Please, just get out of my face for one MINUTE!”

Some people call it “alone time.” Some say, “I need my space.” Some pout, some have a meltdown, some whimper, and some shout. We all handle it differently, but we all have those moments when things just get to be too much and we’re no longer rational. We’re off when others want us to be on. We’re not feeling the gratitude or appreciation.

Here is my theory.. It all started with the starving children overseas. You know, the ones your parents told you about to guilt you into cleaning your plate.

I never heard the word “stress” when I was growing up. If you have an old Webster’s Dictionary, the definition is something about pressed wood. Now stress is the reason for everything we do that’s bad, like drinking, smoking, eating too much, taking too many sick days, and a multitude of other bad things.

I sometimes think of something my Mother said in the middle of one of her meltdowns. Someone told her that she had no business acting the way she did because she should be grateful that one of the “what ifs,” wasn’t happening to her. What if you didn’t know where your next meal was coming from? What if you or someone you love was fighting some terrible disease?

Mom’s mood didn’t improve one bit, because she was a worrier. She hadn’t thought about some of those things. Now she was worried AND felt ashamed. Her answer? “If people don’t have big things to worry about, they worry about little things.” She had a point. You’ve heard the expression, “Cheer up. Things could be worse.” Sometimes followed by, “So I cheered up and sure enough, things got worse.”

Do we really not have the right to feel like Charlie did unless the very worst has happened? Sometimes, all we need is a minute. If we don’t get it, we might need professional help.

The other side of this is that you must recognize when others need a minute. Like our granddaughter Skyler in the picture above. You have just said “No” to a four year old. They might not be able to articulate it, but in most cases they need a minute to come up with plan B…or maybe you need a minute to think about what their plan B will be.

This time of year, is inherently stressful. We’re all looking for that special gift for the person who already has everything. We want our kids and grandkids to understand the meaning of Christmas, but they still make a list as long as your arm. Be easy on yourself. Ask them what they got for Christmas last year. You might get a look like this.

I’m in favor of having a “Give me a minute day.” A day when all you have to say is, “I need a minute,” and everyone will know if you don’t have that minute to gather yourself, or re-center your life, they will suffer the consequences no matter how many children overseas are starving.

I realize not everyone is going to agree with me. In that case, I’ll give you a minute.

 

 

I’ll never forget the day I met her. I had no idea what I was getting into and neither did she. We didn’t talk much that first day or the next. I think she was surprised each time I showed up. I was a little surprised myself. I was not what she was used to, and she was not what I had expected. With all this going for us, we forged ahead. We thought it would never last, but it did. She was one of the most interesting and entertaining people I have ever met.

We grew to understand each other, and with understanding came respect. She was 84 and had lived her life, but it wasn’t over yet. I was 59, which is an awkward age. All the major decisions had been made and I had enjoyed the rewards of some decisions and endured the consequences of others. Life is long and life is short.

We spent our mornings together going through our routine. I fixed her breakfast, which was usually spicy sausage patties, eggs and toast with marmalade. Sometimes I could get her to take a bath before she ate, sometimes after, and sometimes not at all. She loved to give me a hard time and had some pretty compelling arguments like, “Is it cheaper to take a bath or just wash up? I have to watch my water bill you know.” We made deals like, “If you don’t take a bath today, you have to let me wash your hair tomorrow…deal?” She would have to think about that one, because she never broke a promise. If she made a deal, she followed through.

She spent much of her time fussing over her old dog Rascal and a stray cat she grew attached to. On nice mornings, she would wheel herself out onto the front porch and I would get the folding chair and sit beside her. We watched the hummingbirds drink the nectar from the feeder that hung from the big tree out front. Sometimes she fell asleep in her wheelchair, but other times she told me about her life.

She married young and had 4 children each 2 years apart. Her husband died of cancer when the youngest child was only a few weeks old. She told me she was surprised when she had the first child because her Mother told her the doctor brought the babies. I can only imagine how tough the next years were for her. She outlived 3 husbands and survived hard times, but there were good times too.

She loved to listen to country music on the radio. Her folks had barn dances when she was growing up and her Daddy played the guitar. The music took her back to those days. I love the same kind of music. We would close our eyes and listen as we thought about the memories the songs evoked.

We spent time cleaning and doing laundry. She needed help with things I took for granted. Some things fail us as our bodies age, and it’s hard to accept the help we need. I understood, or at least tried to. I could only say, “That’s what I’m here for.”

She loved my chocolate chip cookies. Her favorite cake was strawberry. Her favorite lunch was a Spam sandwich with cheese and mayo. She loved the hot Spam with jalapenos. She taught me how to mix up cornbread without a recipe. You can tell when you have enough milk, eggs, and cornmeal by the batter. You must never stir it too much. We made fried cornmeal mush like my Grandpa Sanderson made, and ate it with butter and syrup.

She had false teeth and glasses, but never wore either. She could hear a pin drop…if she wanted to. She could be feisty and cantankerous, but she was always contrite afterwards. She had a soft heart, but she could get angry. Then.. as she would say, “Look out!”

Her youngest daughter and her family lived across the street. Her daughter was her momma’s angel. She took the responsibility of meeting all her momma’s needs. She made doctor’s appointments, and took her to them; patiently helping her transfer from the wheelchair to the car. She prepared her suppers, which the family usually ate together. She bought her clothes and groceries, and most importantly… paid attention to her. As moms and daughters do, they fussed at each other sometimes. “Don’t drag your left foot Momma,” I’d hear her daughter say. “You’re going through too much cat food and it’s going to waste.” She was right. Cans of tuna fish were disappearing along with all the cat food. Rascal must have had an iron stomach with all the spicy spam he ate.

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When Kip and I got back from our vacation two days ago, we had 31 messages on our answering machine. One was from Mrs. E’s daughter. “Momma passed away,” she said. “Call me.”

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I went to see her a few times at the nursing home. It didn’t feel right. Maybe because those four years we spent mornings together ended more abruptly than they began. I don’t remember what we did that last day before she got so sick. She went to the hospital first, then to the nursing home. I went to see her right after she got there. She hadn’t been awake yet. She had been there for rehab several years before, after suffering from the stroke that left her partially paralyzed on her left side.

I was standing by her bed when two young aids came into the room. They asked me if I knew anything about her. They were told by nurses who had been there when she was in rehab, that she might swear at them and try to kick them. That made me smile. “She might,” I said. “I hope she does.”

Ron and Barbara on Jamaica Beach…Kip and I with Sammie, Pattie, and Cyndie. ( I couldn’t see very well..my hat was in my eyes.)

Today was day 51 of our road trip and it’s been quite a ride. We’re thankful for all of our family members and friends who welcomed us on our stops; and all those who kept up with my sporadic blogging. We had the most fun any two people traveling with three dogs and a cat can have. We’re home safe and sound. We are tired, but happy.

We spent the last few days in Galveston, TX. It was the perfect ending to our perfect RV vacation, and we got to spend it with Ron and Barbara Spahlinger. I hope they enjoyed spending time with us as much as we loved our time with them. We stayed at the Jamaica Beach RV Park right across from Jamaica Beach. Ron and Barbara have been there several times, but Kip and I had no idea what a treat we were in for. The place is beautiful and the weather was perfect. We spent time in the hot tub, and ate our way through Thanksgiving dinner at the clubhouse, followed by leftovers that evening, and a sumptuous turkey/craw fish gumbo on Friday. They have a huge outdoor movie screen, a putt putt golf course, and a swimming pool. The rates were very reasonable considering all they have to offer.

Ron is an incredibly gifted musician. He and four other talented people who go to our church, formed a group called “Jubilation 5.” Their singing is inspirational beyond belief. I’m struggling to find the words to describe just how good they are.

Here is a photo of them. (I lifted it from Yolie’s FB page.)

The Jubilation 5

Ron is going to sing and facilitate karaoke at the Jamaica Beach RV Park on New Years Eve. Kip and I are going, and Ron said I can sing. Well, he said I may sing. He doesn’t know if I can sing.

Most of you don’t know this about me, but I love to sing. I express myself best through my music. I have been known to inspire multitudes of people with my unique voice and my ability to perform a wide range of musical genres. Most performers just can’t pull it off, but I guess I must be one of a kind or something. As a matter of fact, the only star I can think of in the way of comparing my talent to someone you will no doubt be familiar with.. is Ethel Mertz. She’s Lucy’s friend. Sadly, Lucy hogged the stage, so Ethel rarely got to perform at Ricky’s club.

 

Ron and his shadow led the way to the beach

Barbara snapped this cute picture of the dogs hanging out. They watched Ron make grilled cheese sandwiches after our four mile beach walk. Kip finally got to see a sea turtle at the park.

See the beautiful sand castle Barbara and I made? It even has a moat..okay..we didn’t exactly make it. Two little kids did, but it really does have a moat.

We went to a fun place the night before we left called “The Spot.” I just had a small salad and cheesecake. It was turtle cheesecake. Kip had key lime pie, and Barbara had an eclair. We took it “to go” and Ron made us coffee at their place.

Queen Elizabeth listening to “Jubilation 5.” (She doesn’t really like Ethel Mertz.)

Maybe she’ll like The “Ruination 4.”