From the new Book…Rhymes for all Times by Mary Francis McNinch…Out next week in paperback, large print and hardcover.
Murdo Girl…Jerry Davis presents, Grandma June and Grandpa Jim.
Murdo Girl…Young Old Men
Mrs. E was 25 years my senior. Mom was 31 when I was born. These two women were raised during times that saw great change. Mom was in her 20’s when WWII broke out. Mrs E was 15 when Pearl Harbor was attacked. Like Mom, many of the men and boys in her life went to war.
When I first met Mrs. E, it had been about 4 years since a stroke had left her partially paralyzed on her left side. This event changed her life in a very big way. Her house was full of reminders of her many talents. She had beautiful crocheted bedspreads and afghans in her closets, and bookshelves full of jigsaw puzzles. She had gardened and in other ways, had been very active. She had to give up all those fun and rewarding pastimes after the stroke.
Knowing that many people of her generation loved to play bingo, I asked her if she had ever played the game. She said, “Oh yeah, that’s how I got my 4th old man.” This started a conversation about the men in her life. She made it clear to me that she was not a “rounder,” nor were any of the “old men” who had been important to her .
Over that four year period, I learned about these men. The happy times, and the tragedies that she experienced. As I tell you about our conversations, keep in mind that sometimes her memory played a few tricks on her, and she did sometimes embellish for effect. Something of course, I never do.
When she was a young teenager, little miss E, developed a crush on the boy who lived down the road. They spent evenings in his living room where they would lie on the floor propped up on their elbows, and listen to the radio with his folks. This is where they were when they heard that Pearl Harbor had been attacked and the U.S. was entering WWII.
Mrs. E told me the young boy she was with went the very next day and enlisted. I waited for her to tell me more, but she just went back to eating her Spam sandwich. Finally, I asked, “What happened to the boy? Did he go overseas?” She shrugged her shoulders and said, “Oh yeah, he went over there, got killed and came back the same day.”
What was supposed to be her first date, with the man she eventually married, didn’t happen. She had agreed to go with him to some kind of a church or school social, but at the last minute, she chickened out. She climbed a tree in her front yard and waited. From her perch, she watched him come to the house and knock on the door. Her Mother answered and told him her daughter was around there someplace. They looked everywhere, but didn’t find her, so he finally left. She came down from the tree and went inside. She said her Mother never mentioned it.
Like many depression era families, she grew up very poor. She had to work in the cotton fields and couldn’t attend school. She told me how hard it was for her to go to school for the first time and try to join an 8th grade class. One day, as she waited for her school bus, she got sprayed by a skunk. She was so determined to go to school, she boarded the bus anyway. She made it all the way to school, but wasn’t allowed to stay and had to walk all the way back home. She never learned how to read or write anything but her name, however she was indeed street smart. She signed everything, even a birthday card to her daughter, “Best wishes, and always her full name.
She told me about her half brother who was about 4 years older. She called him Bubba. The two of them had some pretty wild escapades. They became irritated with a group of kids who walked passed their house each evening and sang loud songs. One day the pair spotted a dead animal, which gave Bubba an idea. The two of them found a board about the same size as the newly departed beast, who was looking pretty gruesome by this time. They nailed him to the board, and attached a long narrow rope to opposite sides of the board. Each took a rope and positioned the mounted animal beside the road. They hid themselves behind trees, one on each side. They were now ready for the singing children to come walking by.
It wasn’t long until they heard the familiar, yet irritating singing. They waited until the children were close enough to see the dead animal, but still couldn’t see the ropes. Bubba tightened his rope and slowly pulled the upright dead animal across the road in front of the kids, who by this time had stopped singing. Little E, slowly let her rope out as Bubba continued to pull the grotesque animal onto the kid’s path. Mrs. E told me those kids turned and ran as fast as they could. She and Bubba could hear the screaming above their own laughter. Apparently, the choir learned their lesson, because they never heard them come down the road singing again.
I thought of course this was the end of the story, but Mrs. E. went on to tell me that she and Bubba just left the mounted dead animal laying on the side of the road. That night, when they were called to supper, they had quite a surprise. Bubba and little E. sat on a bench pulled up to the table. When they were seated and ready to eat, their Father, left for a minute and came back with the dead animal still attached to the board and set it between them on the bench. I’m assuming this was his way of telling the pair he knew what they had done, and he did not approve. Mrs. E. said they both wished they could run away screaming, but they knew better. They sat there and ate their supper in silence.
Apparently Mrs. E’s father was a man of few words when it came to disciplining his kids. She told me of a time they got into some “Good Ole Mountain Dew,” and drank enough that it was noticed. Rather than say anything, he gave them an extremely bumpy wagon ride, until they felt the effects of drinking and riding. Both of them got pretty sick.
Mrs. E. could tell the stories with the best of them. She loved talking about the barn dances they had every Friday night. Her Dad played the fiddle and everyone had fun. We found a radio station that played those old familiar hoedown songs. I could tell by the look on her face that the music took her back to those special times. She knew all the words. I even knew a few of them.
It seems as we get older, the good times rise to the top like sweet cream, while the bad times no longer have the sting they once had. What a blessing that is…
Murdo Girl…Getting out of cold water
Let’s see. Where were we? Oh yes. It’s a cold and windy day in the old town. Its almost too much for Detective W. Spade to handle. All that gum on his shoes was starting to wear on him, not to mention his good shoes. Et Al, also known as MG and Lav, were being held hostage near the North Dam (Probably in some dark and scary abandon shack.) As near as we can figure they are both captivated by one of the Cross brothers. We think that because his brother, Chris Cross told us he saw them there and they had dried concrete on their feet. It appeared that the cross Cross brother was heading for the dam with them.
Back to the dam: Berferd is in the shadows. He’s going to wait until the last minute and jump on the cross Cross brother right before he pushes the girls into the water. They would have to figure out how to get the concrete off their shoes by themselves. He wished they would hurry. The show uptown started in a couple of hours and he always goes to the show.
Back at the gingerbread house W Spade was trying to get the gum off his shoes, He had used the last of the Goo be Gone that morning. The gum had caused him to stick to the floor so when he tried to walk, only the top part went. he fell into the office chair which began to spin and the phone cord wound around his neck. (This would be an embarrassing scene if someone walked in.) It was Thursday and Friday had the afternoon so W. Spade was at the beck and call of his victims… The phone rang.
*******************
The voice on the end of the line said the girls were both in trouble.
W. better get his detective self to the North Dam on the double.
The cross Cross brother was out of sorts and Et Al were in his way.
If W Spade wanted to keep Et Al then he would have to pay.
W: I’m tired of paying smackaroos when I haven’t earned a dime.
A detective’s life is not his own. He’s always solving a crime.
Et Al need to learn the trade and save themselves instead.
Detective work is hard… some lesser slicks wind up dead.
I think I’ll fill up the El Camino and head westward later on.
but first I have to find the guy that Chris Cross Stumbled upon.
***
I know you’re all mighty anxious to hear what happens next
I found the dead guy who wasn’t dead but he sure was perplexed.
Vivian guy: I came all the way from Vivian to ask a girl to the dance.
I tripped and fell and hit my head before I got the chance.
Say, do you know two guys from Presho that go by the name of Cross?’,
W: I saw them leave town with two girls… I guess their gain was your loss.
Who were you sweet on Vivian guy? Was her name Et or Al?
W noticed the Vivian guy had a real South Vivian drawl.
Don’t answer that said W Spade be glad you had that fall.
Et Al have concrete on their feet so they can’t dance at all
The End
Et: I don’t know Al. I feel like I’ve gained 10 lbs.
Al: Must be the rhubarb milkshakes or maybe it’s the concrete boots.
Next…a true Halloween story
Murdo Girl…Concrete boots
W paced the floor of the gingerbread house that had recently become the hangout for W Spade ET AL. (The new detective agency in town.) Occasionally his right foot dragged across the floor a little. He didn’t seem to notice.
Friday: Hey W what’s with your right foot? It drags like Chester’s did on Gunsmoke.”
W: It’s these gummed-up shoes. Detectives do a lot of walking which makes it pretty likely that said detective would pick up some gum.
W continues:
To use detective terms,, I’m really puzzled about MG and Lav. It’s not like them to disappear without asking for smackaroos. They hate folding the motel towels, but they sure do love folding money. I hope they’re not getting mixed up in the Yikes case. Hey Friday, it’s Tuesday. Isn’t the Tracer starting today? I need him to do some tracing.
Friday: He said he’d be right over after he picks up his last paycheck at the warehouse. Uh there’s something you should know about Tracer before he gets here. (Friday looks like she swallowed a canary, whatever that means.)
Friday continues.:
He’s highly and I mean highly allergic to stale cigars. You won’t be able to chew on them when he’s around.
W didn’t have time to react to the life changing news because the phone started ringing. He tried to take a step forward, but only the top part of his body moved. His gumshoes were firmly attached to the floor. Friday quickly handed W the phone just as he fell into the desk chair which unfortunately began to spin. The phone cord wrapped around his neck and caused his voice to sound like he’d been sucking out of a balloon filled with helium.
HELLO…HE SAID IN A SQUEEKY VOICE. W ET AL AT YOUR SERVICE.
The person on the other end was obviously in a hurry. “I’m the guy who tripped over the dead guy recently. I’ve been a little surprised that a big detective guy like you hasn’t been kinda curious to know who the perp is. Hey…you sound like you’re from Draper.
W: Are you from Presho? You sure do sound like it. I was about to start snooping around but my ET AL is missing.
Guy from Presho: Say your ET AL wouldn’t happen to be two goofy girls walking around in cement boots would they? If so, I saw them blindfolded and being pushed around by my brother. They were at the North Dam.
W: Mind if I ask you a question? W takes a notepad out of his pocket and a pen from behind his ear. Was the dead guy also from Presho?
Guy from Presho and possible perp…I don’t know. I never heard him talk.
W: Well it never hurts to ask, he says as he puts his pen and pad away.
W Spade ET AL was on a real tough case. There were Presho guys all over the place. Who was good and who was bad? I heard the dead guy was a real fine lad?
MG and Lav were held captive by the brother. It didn’t appear the brothers liked each other. What’s their deal ET AL wanted to know. He was headed for the water with them in tow.
Berf hid in the shadows and calmly waited. He could see that ET AL were ill-fated. If they were thrown in the water with their concrete boots. Berf would pull them out by their graying roots.
Back at the house W nursed his neck and hoped his client would give him a check.
All of of a sudden out of the blue. He heard a cough and a loud “ACHEW! Then the guy stumbled and said, “YiiiiKES!
W: You must be Tracer
**************
Will someone find the dead guy soon if you know what I mean?
Will Tracer be able to trace phone calls since W sort of messed up the phone cord?”
Why are the Cross Brothers so mad at W ET AL?
You will find the answers to these and other questions in the next episode.
Murdo Girl…W. Spade Et Al
Having taken to the idea of being a private eye, William now referred to himself as W. Spade. He has also recruited his daughter, MG and his niece, Lav, to be his Sherlocks. They do all the legwork…and the paperwork. The three of them still squeeze into the El Camino, but Berferd has to ride in the back. The life of a gumshoe, is not an easy one.
After solving the now famous Click case, W. Spade Et Al has become a household name. Everyone in town wants their mysteries and crimes solved by W, his daughter, MG, and his niece, Lav. Luckily, once she completed the fundraising for the new swimming pool, Friday Click decided to stay on as the call screener.
Since the basement office had been buried, it was necessary for the business to find a new place of business. Luckily, there was another dirty business place for rent. It looked like a gingerbread house.
Let’s get right to it…
It’s Monday and Friday is sitting at her desk when the phone rings. It only takes two or three rings now for her to recognize the sound. She usually manages to answer it by the fourth ring, or if her nails aren’t dry, she lets it go to voicemail.
VM: You have reached the offices of W. Spade Et Al. Your call is very important to us (you can hear the distinct sound of someone blowing on their nails.) If someone is holding a gun to your head, hang up and call me back. I’ll answer it this time. If you’re holding a gun to someone else’s head, you have the wrong number. Please hang up and call the cops. Get it? Got it? Good!
Ring, RIng, Ring, Ring
Friday: Hello…you have reached the offices of W Spade Et Al. What can I do ya for?
Caller: I think I just stumbled over a dead body.
Friday: Wow…really? Male or Female? Did you know the body was dead before or after you stumbled? A good way to check to see if they’re really dead is to hold a mirror up to their nose. If it fogs over, they’re still alive. Hold on…W wants to talk to you.
W: This is only Friday’s second Monday. She’s still got a lot to learn about detective phone etiquette. So who’s the poor stiff?
Caller: YiiiiKES! Click
W: I think said caller just hung up on said me. Did you put a tracer on the call, Friday?
Friday: Say what? Oh yeah…remember? Tracer won’t be here until tomorrow. He had to give two weeks notice at the warehouse. It sounds like W. Et Al has a real murder case this time. Sounds like the dead guy is as dead as your cigar.
W: The vic can’t have been dead that long. I think I’ll go drag Main and see if there’s someone running around town yelling, “YiiiKES!” You get ahold of MG and LAV. Tell them to meet me at Mack’s Cafe and I’ll buy them a cinnamon roll.
What W doesn’t know is that MG and Lav are being held captive by a guy from Presho, a town about thirty miles east. They aren’t in Presho, but that’s where the captivator is from. His name is Chris Cross.
Lav: MG do you have any idea where we are? It’s really dark in here.
MG: No, but I think it might be close to the North Dam. There’s a golf course nearby and I heard someone yell. “Fore.”
Lav: Who do you think captivated us and why?
MG: I don’t know, but he sounds like he has a Presho accent. I’ve come up with two clues and you haven’t come up with anything concrete, Lav.
Lav: Why are you always so Cross, MG. Besides, I have too come up with something concrete. Did you know we’re standing in wet concrete right now?
Both: “YiiiiKes!”
W Spade Et Al got themselves in a jam. This case takes place at the Murdo North Dam. MG and Lav are in a fix. Instead of gum on their shoes, they’re stuck in concrete mix.
W. drove the El Camino uptown, to see if MG and Lav were anywhere around. The guy who called said he tripped on someone dead. Before he hung up, “Yiiiikes” was all he said. His Presho accent was real distinct. It was enough to put Berferd hot on his scent.
Was the “Yikes” guy guilty or was he the victim? Were the girl’s new shoes meant for them to swim in? Would W Et Al and Berferd crack the case? Or would they stumble over the dead guy and fall flat on their face?
To solve the mystery you need to know there is more than one guy here from Presho. If one’s name is Chris and he has a brother, what do you think is the name of the other?
Who is the stumbler?
Who is the captivator?
Who is the dead guy?
And what is the why?
To Be Continued…
Murdo Girl…What blog?
I haven’t forgotten that I have a blog to write. I’ve been easily distracted by everything in sight.
When I try to focus, my mind goes everywhere. Then I feel disjointed which causes me despair.
When I feel despair, I can’t sleep at night…and then all the next day, it’s sleep I have to fight.
Fighting steels my energy which causes sugar cravings. The cost of all the junk I eat puts a big dent in my savings.
So now I have no money and my teeth will soon be rotten. If I don’t cheer up soon, my blog will be forgotten.
I offer you this poem as I strive to stop the cycle. Today I’ve sworn off sugar. I won’t even have a bite full.
I’ll need a touch of magic to keep my mind in focus. I’ll do my best to concentrate and you say “hocus pocus.”
I’ve missed you…
My friend, Pat found a pair of Pearl’s glasses. I wonder where Pearl is?
Murdo Girl…What do you think this is..your birthday?
One of the many Grandpa Sanderson stories I loved to hear Mom tell was about the times the kids would ask if they could buy something special or do something out of the ordinary.
Grandpa would always ask,”What do you think this is, your birthday?”
Mom said she and her siblings couldn’t wait until it really was their birthday and they could say, “YES! It is my birthday!” I’m sure Grandpa enjoyed getting caught in his little game.
Today is my very special cousin, Valerie’s birthday. Her Murdo Girl moniker is, Lav. She is the best sport I know and a beautiful new Grammy.
“Hey Lavish! What do you think this is your birthday?”
Love from MG
Murdo Girl…Don’t forget
I talked to Gus today. He wanted to know where his flyswatter is. Now that I think about it, I remember it looked like it had already killed a few too many flies. Not that I have sympathy for flies. They are about the most annoying bugs around.
I didn’t admit that I probably threw it away or even try to blame it on Billy. I mean how much does a flyswatter cost? You can get them at the Dollar Store. And then I felt bad because, right now, he has to depend on friends to take him to the store. It will be a huge effort for him to replace that flyswatter. Meanwhile, he said he has a huge fly buzzing around the house. Billy is going to see him on Friday. I’ll call and tell him to add a flyswatter to the things he needs to pick up. Gus can’t find his fingernail files either. I must have thrown them out. How could I be so cruel? One trip to the dollar store should do it…a flyswatter and Emory boards.
I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. After all, I did remember where I put the prunes and nuts. Gus, if you’re reading this, the nuts and prunes are in the drawer inside the cabinet marked crisp bread. I forgot to change the label. Do you see those little glass vases on the counter by the spice rack? They belong to the nice lady who has been bringing fresh flowers and goodies. You should probably return them to her so she can reuse them…and remember to get your mail every day.
I’m sure happy that Billy will be there on Friday. I hope you two remember to call me. I’ll put that on my list. 1) Billy and Gus will call. If it’s not on my list, I might forget.
You know what they say. “Out of sight. Out of mind.”
Murdo Girl…Wow!
I wish there was a simple way to describe the last three plus weeks. I’m sure many of you will scratch your head and wonder if this is a true story. It can be validated by my brother, Billy and our Step-Father, Gus. Just remember as you read this, Gus is 90, Billy is 77, and I’m 69. The good news is we all found that we’re made of pretty good stuff.
Between the three of us, we can usually remember the important things…like where our list is hidden. Except for Gus, who has recently had open-heart surgery, we can lift heavy objects and still walk the next day. We have learned how to pile garbage sacks on a wheel chair and, with the aid of a flashlight, find the dumpster in the middle of the night. We’ve learned how to discard items belonging to someone who never throws anything away…and for the most part get away with it.
I’m from Texas, my brother is from Los Angeles, and Gus lives in Ontario, California.
It all started several weeks ago when I decided that Billy and I should try to gather all of the paperwork needed to help Gus file for a VA pension. At the same time, Gus was scheduled to have his chest opened up to replace a valve. Sounds easy enough. Billy put about 4,000 miles on his car transporting Gus to his regular doctor’s appointments and taking forms to said doctors to complete and sign. Be advised…you make an average of 5 trips and 10 phone calls to get one form.
By the time I got to Ontario for Gus' surgery, which didn't happen then, there was frustration in the air. You can smell frustration, you know. BTW Gus didn't have surgery until about two weeks later because his COVID test, which was part of his preop came back positive. That was a real shock to us as he had COVID last February and later had the vaccination. It was even more of a shock to the group of Gus' friends who were sitting with us in the bakery when he got the phone call. I came back to Texas and stayed the 10 days that Gus was in quarantine. I flew back to Ontario the day before he was scheduled to try it again. He sailed through the surgery and they released him 5 days later. His ribs are literally wired together. (My brother missed two vacations, and was picked to serve on a jury the week Gus came home. Kip and I got two new rescue dogs. We found one on the day I came home the first time and the other the day I came home the 2nd time.
The problem with the coming home part was that Billy and I hadn’t finished making our midnight trips to the dumpster so we couldn’t get the house ready for the recovering patient. Gus is an admitted, um… collector and we had to uncollect him.
One important lesson that I would like to pass on. Before you try to move a newly purchased recliner, be aware that with most of them, the back slips off, making it much easier to carry. We moved that sucker to the motel before we discovered that feature. If we hadn’t figured it out, we would have had to take an ax to it in order to get it through the door at Gus’ house.
Since we weren’t ready, Billy put Gus up in a very nice motel for several days and I stayed at Gus’ house.
Back to the VA project.
We finally got everything together and a Veteran’s Service Officer pronounced it ready to send off to the big guys who make the ultimate determination. Three days ago, we got a letter stating they needed another piece of information. We got it, took it, and handed it to a local VA Service Officer. We read they try to expedite the process if the veteran is over 90. Now we’ll wait and see.
The night before I left, I got to take a break and took the train to Los Angeles. My brother’s wife, Liz, picked me up at Union Station and I spent a lovely evening with Liz and Billy, my niece, Erin, and her boyfriend, Carlos. Liz fixed a wonderful dinner, and we sat at tables on one of the two beautiful decks that were recently completed. As they used to say in the Murdo Coyote, “A good time was had by all.”
Have a wonderful evening. I can’t sit and type too long. I stiffen up.
Murdo Girl…Evil men’s prey
Time heals all wounds I’ve heard many say. Given some time all the hurt goes away.
Has time not reinforced what we came to believe when our nation wracked with pain had no time to grieve?
Have the images so chilling and all too vivid, remained clear only to those the murderous acts benefited.
I want us to remember what happened and why. A vicious attack on our homeland that we can’t deny.
It seems the further we get from the man-made catastrophe, the more we succumb to borderline apathy.
I’ll hope that each one of us takes a moment of silence today and vows to never again be evil men’s prey.
We cared for burn victims and buried those we lost. Babies born fatherless have suffered the cost.
Fill the day with kindness, love, and remembrance.
Those 70ish Girls 