In Company with Family 2021

  How did it get to be late so soon?

It's night before its afternoon.

December is here before it's June.

My goodness how the time has flown.

How did it get so late so soon?

Dr. Suess  

Thanks to all the women and men in the health community who worked tirelessly to save lives, so families and friends could once again be together for the holidays in 2021. 

Our spring began as fall ended with yard clean up, rains, and damaging hail storms. Jack fell down and rather than break his crown he busted his ribs, and we discovered the rush of adrenaline when 911 is called for a loved one. 

By June and two vaccines we felt our feet on the ground and moving along with life, slower than the years before but moving ahead. Murphy entered our lives on May 1 and we felt younger and laughed harder than we have in years. 

The beauty of this puppy is that he MUST walk daily or we end up playing ball for hours on end toward evening, when all we really want to do is sit and read, or sit and watch television. So, Jack walks him every morning that the weather allows. No rain since October and warm temperatures have kept Jack walking and getting in better shape than before.  So much to be thankful for, and so much more fun than a nagging wife. I walk the afternoon shift when Murphy is slightly worn down, but I'm not as faithful as Jack.  

Letty, Katy, Shaun, and Two Bit; Isaac, Ann, Mike and Jack 

 In August our sons arranged for a family gathering at a vacation rental home on Lake Eufaula, Oklahoma. It was the first time all three of our children and their families gathered together with us in several years, and they were happy. They laughed together and at each other, they fished, told stories, stayed up late and had fun. Our hearts were filled with thanks to God that we had built a strong blended family. Mike, Ann, and son Isaac live in Dodgeville, Wisconsin. Katy and Shaun Bledsoe live in Oklahoma City with our two grand dogs, Two Bit, and Hope. We love Hope. Matthew divides his time between New York City and South Florida.  They are each healthy, happy, and have terrific careers. 

Letty, Katy, Matthew, Isaac, Ann, Mike, and Jack

In January Mike celebrated his 50th birthday, and in September Katy celebrated her 50th birthday. She and Shaun traveled to Savannah, Georgia to make it memorable. She succeeded in twisting her ankle in the sand....and making it memorable.  

Matt will celebrate that number in 2023. 

On our way to Mineral Point and Dodgeville, Wisconsin we stopped to spend the night in Omaha with our niece Jennifer Gatlin and her family.  The house was filled with love, children, teens, four adult nieces, husbands, two dogs, and one uncle and aunt. When the Watt family gathers there is always food and fun, and her charcuterie board was a delicious treat. Grilled burgers and hot dogs reminded us of years long ago when we gathered at grandma's place.   

How do you explain how meeting your adult nieces when you remember them as tiny babies? They are wives and mothers now; artists, career women, and wonderful women who make the word a better place to live. 

We drove east and north the next day and watched the warm sun turn to gray, cloudy skies that spewed snow on us for the next four days. A Wisconsin winter blast. 

The next day we arrived in Mineral Point, Wisconsin and stayed at a boutique hotel, The Mineral Point Hotel, in 1857 as the William Lanyon Building and on the National Register of Historic Places.  The black and white flocked wall paper brought back memories of the old Country Club's elegance.

Mike, Ann, and Isaac joined us the first night for a cold snowy stroll around the quaint town and then enjoyed a delicious meal at their favorite restaurant, Popolo, and everybody else's favorite because the next night we wanted to eat there but the waiting list was too long.

Jack and I awoke each morning and walked to either the Cafe 43 or the Red Rooster for a yummy breakfast.  The kids, who live up the road in Dodgeville, joined us for most meals and shopping in the arts district. One night we ate at the Midway Grill at the Bowling Alley, located mid-way between Mineral Point and Dodgeville. We had so much fun making memories, thank you Mike and Isaac for throwing the ball backwards and creating an uproar of activity for the bowling alley.  

Home Again, Home Again, jiggery jig...

Thanksgiving was quiet and thoughtful. Jack and I cooked a full meal that we shared with my sister, Jonya, and her husband Bill. But Jack's birthday the 28 of November was anything but quiet.  

We invited neighbors and family for a come and go birthday celebration and of course, no pictures. We spent hours sharing stories, eating, and opening gifts. It's always fun to put names with faces when meeting friends and families.

Murphy didn't get his own Christmas tree, but he managed to keep us to small pencil tree with decorations starting up over the swishing tail line to protect the red bulbs. 

  

I turned 70 again for the fourth time. Each birthday gets sweeter.

Joan invited me to play golf on my fourth 70th birthday to celebrate the day and date. How to dress for 70 degrees in December in Oklahoma was a conundrum. 

Thanks friends for all of your love and support this year.  

We will end the old and begin the new with our large family "Dirty Santa" on January 1.  

How did it get late, so soon?

PS. If you have already received this story please excuse my mistake, but I think the April Fool Monkey jumped on my posting. 

I am closing the door on 2021...

Opening our eyes to 2022..

Murphy Doodle Walks

Good Murphy Doodle 

Good Murphy....

it sure is hard to be a good dog, i like to walk and sniff and p and pull and tug but letty likes slow g e n t l e walks, and i like letty

she does not know how hard it is for me to walk slowly,  but if i do not walk slowly and gently then my neck gets sore from tugging all of the time, i am strong and want to walk like a man dog, when i do sometimes letty just stops and talks to me, i hang my head, i don't want to hurt her, when i walk slowly she surprises me with a treat, i wag my tail and walk gentle after that 

actually jack walks are better and lots more fun, he lets me run ahead of him on a long lease and i get to sniff and p on every  mailbox and tree, but jack doesn't give me treats like letty does on her walks

i smelled a cat here but could not find it, when i see it i will chase it away 

on a day called christmas when there were children everywhere on bicycles, i walked a long way with jack and barked at that big reindeer with a red nose, i do not like to see him when he jumps around in the wind, i bark and bark and he will not go away, i bet he would like to fly away someday, if we were friends i would teach him to fly like i do

then letty took me for a gentle walk in the afternoon, i have noticed that the yards have objects all over them now and i get to p on little white trees, toys, and green trees, 

how can we have little trees and gigantic reindeer, it does not make sense,

i did see a new little white house that i wanted to smell but letty said no, no no,  i stopped and look and it was quiet all around, i did not even bark at it

what happened to the cold weather, my body felt so good when the cold wind blew but now it is back to summer and i am hot, even in the house, i want winter back

after letty rearranged the furniture so i could not fly around the room, she moved a table and put up a tree, she shook her finger at me and said no p, no p, off, off, off

i sniffed the tree and then pulled the blanket away from it, so i could sleep on the under the tree, she forgot that my bed has always been in that corner, so now i sleep beside the house tree

once again i heard Bad Murphy, when i ate a hole in rudolph's bag of gifts, whatever that means, i ate a hole because it tasted like candy goodies

i woke up on a special day and found a new blanket under the house tree just for me and there was a chew toy with it

i hope you found chew toys and blankets on your special day and a big bowl of food

Why the Trees?

Why have I spent my life enamored with trees ?

Survivor of Katrina, the Southern Live Oak stands alone. 

Is it their shapes, like the Southern Live oak I once danced around in Biloxi, Mississippi before Katrina tore them to shreds, or the limb I sat upon in the yard of the mansion where I dreamed I was a princess?

No, I was a child then.

Birnam Oak, Scotland

Perhaps it was the size and shape of the Birnam Oak in Scotland where ten people could gather 'round, and where several adults could hide inside the tent like opening in the trunk  that captured my attention. I could imagine the centuries of peoples who had loved this tree, who had touched this tree before.

The height of the giant Redwoods in Northern California fascinated our family when we spent the day gazing to tops of these historic native mansions. Our children stood there gazing upward, measuring themselves against the history of time. I wonder what my parents imagined as they drove through the heart of a giant Sequoia in Yosemite on their honeymoon in 1946. 

Hutchinson, Ks.

My imagination tells me that it is the curvature of their spines, the shapes I imagine living between those lines, especially when the winter winds clear the sky of leaves, and limbs, there I see a crooked heart leaning northward in the old ragged tree, worn from decades of bending and breaking from the southwest winds.   

 

On a hilly walk through a cold Wisconsin park, I encountered an old man withered from years of rains, ice, snow, heat; broken from storms and raging floods. His face felt smooth to my touch. He shared no words, but I felt his life deep in my soul. 

I watch the trees and wonder, when will spring arrive, oh, tell me please.

On a windy day my eyes see a glimpse of pink on the skinny flowering crabapple tree. Then one day the Oklahoma landscapes burst into color with while dogwoods, faithful redbuds, tulip trees, and Magnolias smelling sweeter than before. 

Trees have shown me that all greens are not equal, or was that Beatrix Potter, who told Peter to feast his eyes on green and helped me to see her world. While Beatrix watched from an open window and wrote, I walked among the trees wherever they might grow along my life's journey. 

My eyes absorb he green from the most yellow of greens to the bluest of green. As the sunshine hits or the winds blow,, greens glow in the different light and breezes. I smell spring and my heart begins to feel lightness in the air. 

In the steamy summer months it is the cool shade of the trees that offers relief from the burning sun on the golf course. In our backyard the shade from the silver leaf maple furnishes calm shade and serenity. 

Out my writing window I watch tiny birds gather round the bird feeder. I talk to the river birch and ask if the broken bark hurts; its roughness does not lend to rubbing. Last year our river birch lost its twin, attached at the base, but ripped apart by the ice storm. How painful I thought to lose something that close, yet the single river birch managed to survive and thrive. 

When autumn arrives the greens fade to dry yellows and browns, and some lucky leaves draw crowds to photograph their striking golds and reds with speckled designs.

Aspen grove in Colorado

Trees can heal us in so many ways. Rubbing my arm against an Aspen tree in Colorado may not have cured my aches that day, but I walked away with a vivid memory. 

Still I ask myself, why the trees. Why do I find them in my dreams, why do I search for trees when I travel, why do I sometimes feel rooted, strong and flush like an Evergreen, and other days feels old, writhed, wrinkled, and withered like the olive trees that Van Gogh painted?

Yes, still I stand tall.

 

Augusta, Georgia

That is it !

I realize now that I stand like a tree withered slightly from the storms of life. I have found the ability to bounce back from adversity. I bend in the wind and don't break, and still I dance among the trees and dream of far away places. 

 

*For other fascinations with trees check out these sites:

My friend, Martha Slavin, writes from Northern California on her blog

Post Cards in the Air

Beverly Herndon is trained in the ancient art of Chinese painting. 

Check out her work in the Norman Transcript article:

Baroness of Brushes

Murphy Doodle Snacks

Bad Murphy.................. Good Murphy

wet Murphy

that is me, Murphy Doodle, dog, writer, fly boy, comedian, goof ball, digger, mud foot, and k-oss, all 

disk-guysed like a shaggydog  

i must confess that i am good most of the time but 

Bad Murphy....

did you eat my toast she asked looking at me with her smiling eyes and growling voice.

of course i ate the toast that you left for me on the counter corner and walked away,

 

 

one day i showed jack how much i loved the peanut butter that he left out, i grabbed the lid and licked it then chewed it up on one side, now they put the peanut butter jar back up away from me 

maybe when i grow up i can reach the peanut butter jar

Come Murphy,...drop...drop...Murphy  drop ...Good Murphy

i hear her words ring in my ear, and i like it because sometimes she rubs my ears but best of all i get treats when i return the toy to her hands, i really like the treats that smell tasty, one is called Sammon, one is bacon, my favorite lick snack is peanut butter, and another doesn't smell like anything good but i eat it anyway

mostly i eat anything in her hand or his hand, jack likes to throw the treats and lets me find them, she scolded him, i heard her say " Bad Jack " but jack didn't drop his head like i do when she says my name like that

on a big day when lots of people came to our house to eat and laugh, people told me that i was a very good puppy, i wagged my tail and jumped to lick them and heard scolding words off, 

i sat down to be good Murphy and someone said my tail acted like a sweeper, everybody laughed so now i want to keep sweeping my tail on the floor a lot

our house smelled like food all day, but i didn't steal anyone's
food, i thought i was good murphy

i played chase with big children, around and around the yard they ran and let me jump all around them, we were all tired and they let me come inside to drink my water, and feel a belly rub

i learned that girl people sit on the floor with me to rub my belly and boy people bend over and rub my ears once and walk away,  

while people were in the house i wanted to show them how i fly over the furniture but i could not find enough room to run and jump,

letty said to the house of people, let's go outside and play

some people went crazy kicking my soccer balls back and forth, they looked funny running slow, finally i grabbed my ball to hide from them

 

two tiny girls in pink dresses came out to play with me but they ran away when i ran toward them, i jumped to show them how i like to play,when i tried to jump over one little girl i heard those words Bad Murphy 

sometimes i just don't understand 

they left me outside alone for a l o n g time while i watched them through the window,

a long time ago letty put a table by a window just for me, now i can sleep on it or sit or stand and look right into the window and see people, when i start to bark bad magic happens, the window goes brown and i cannot see through it, if i don't bark the window stays clear and i can watch

if they just let me in the house with them i won't feel so lonely

 

 

 

when people left i ate the best meal of my life, they called it real turkey, real people's food, i can't wait till i eat turkey again

A Part of Herstory Comes to LIfe

A part of herstory, my story, is history and a colorful journey through the time in which my parents grew to adult hood. 

The Golf Gypsy, Literally Letty

In July 1984, my home, the Tudor style clubhouse in Miami, Oklahoma burned to the ground. To this day, a part of me can walk through the clubhouse from the basement to the top attic home, where custodians of her history lived.  I walked and crawled through the empty attic and listened the sounds below. The children's room balcony, the bar, the locker rooms, the golf shop, and **snake pit my father dug out of the clay basement where golf carts were stored, all are part of my deepest memories.  My childhood and that of my sister's, Jonya Lea Stapp,  began there  in 1954 when our father and mother moved from Independence, Kansas to Miami to take the job as Head Professional Golfer and Instructor, along with greens superintendent, and manager of the clubhouse. 

In those days, the golf professional made his money from a salary, giving golf lessons to members, golf shop income, and in the middle fifties, dad bought the first set of gasoline golf carts. The income from the golf carts became the money that sent my sister and I to college. Mother became the book keeper for the golf shop, but the larger income from the social gathering aspect remained on different books, kept by a secretary accountant. The country club was privately owned and operated by its members, so my father reported to the President of the club from year to year. 

Because my parents shared so many roles in the running of the golf shop, my sister and I were practically raised there, even though we lived in town. As a result my childhood memories are filled with those colorful people and days.

The country club began in 1914, thanks to the foresight of a committee of men, and one major investor, George Coleman.  1914-1929 Rockdale Country Club

Our very first golf professional in 1921, was Ed Dudley, who went on to become the first Golf Professional at Augusta National Golf Club. He was hired by the most notable amateur to play the game of golf, Bobby Jones.  Ed Dudley's Golfing Career. Dudley designed the original four golf holes with sand greens. 

Pieces of Professional Golf History in Oklahoma began to fall into place as I read the newspapers from Miami, Ok, and Joplin, Missouri. One quick fact that caught my attention was this line from 1924 April 11:

1924 April 11    G. L. Coleman elected President of Rockdale CC by the seven directors: Ed Millner, Ross R Bayless, J.A. Robinson, A.C. Wallace, L.A. Thompson and R.W. Skinner.

Rockdale CC will become a member of the state golf association, which will give all members of the local club the right to play on the course of any other club in the state, which is a member of the association without having to pay a green fee.

Can we even imagine times like these? Women were playing golf and our local newspapers carried regular information on calendar events for both women and men.  

When the depression hit the country, citizens of Ottawa county and the Tri-State area, were not hit as hard as other areas of the country, because of the discovery of lead and zinc in the late 1800's. By World War I the Tri-State area of Oklahoma, Missouri, and Kansas became one the most prolific producers of lead and zinc that were needed for the war effort. As a result lead and zinc mining kept the area employed. Sadly, there were no government regulations placed on mining in those days, as a result our current history of my home area is darkened by the EPA reports of the poisoned Tar Creek area of Ottawa County. 

Between 1927-30 George Coleman a major investor in the mining area built one of the world's most  renowned theatres:  The Coleman Theatre which opened April of 1929. 

That same year in December the Rockdale Country Club opened its doors to the new Clubhouse.

This building c. 1929 became our home from 1954--1976 when my father retired. 

From 1928--1946 the Miami Golf and Country Club became a regular host for the Oklahoma PGA. However, reports vary on this particular golf tournament and records that might have explained when it was medal play and when it was match play burned in a fire a few decades ago. I found it quite exciting to read how involved the community of Miami became in the game of golf thanks to the newspapers coverage of the tournaments and the well-known names who came to town. A gallery was a regular at these events. Miami at that time had caddy's and a caddy shack located off the north side of hole #1. Oklahoma PGA Championships

Through the 1930's golfers in the tri-state area, including women, traveled often to play other golf courses. Often our Miami New-Record ran AP and other sports stories. This is one I found especially interesting:

1932 April 7 MNR The headlines read: Headaches May Help Lower Golf Score according to Dr. C. R. Griffith, psychological research director of athletics at U.of Illinois. "The golf player with a headache has the advantage over his companion who feels 'fit as a fiddle.' The headache keeps him from pressing and from experimenting. He is out merely to play the game and this means he is out to do that which he has been most in the habit of doing." "If a man goes into a golf game feeling fine, either of two things may happen. He may start to make each hole in one and thus be guilty of pressing. Or he may experiment. Pressing breaks up timing and rhythm. Experimenting may lead to disaster. The man who has a headache or is not at his best, will not be guilty of pressing. He will play his natural game."

There may be some hidden truth to this statement.

In 1934 funds were raised by a team of Miamians to purchase the debt of the Rockdale Country club and change it's name to the Miami Country club. 

Though most of the sports writers used very descriptive language and vocabulary there were a few writers who gallantly took time to rib the local golfers and their status in the community, many of the events that would presently make Facebook news:

 George Coleman, Jr, club president, has suggested that the Miami membership stage a big stag party on the eve of the pro-am, draw names of the amateurs with the pros and form a Calcutta pool. A percentage obtained from the pool will be used for cash prizes for the pros and merchandise for the "simon pures." (Men of  financial means were sarcastically called 'Simon Pures' by the press or media. They were considered men who could play golf six days a week pick up a little cash, and call themselves amateurs.)

The women golfers were also active social ladies and bridge club members. They took on the roles of organizing seasonal decorations and dances, selecting area bands to play for entertainment, helping with various local groups. Well into my childhood through the 1960's I remember the earnest attention they gave to decorations and modeling of the newest décor. 

St. Patrick's decorations, spring violets and an abundance of good food, together with the hospitality extended by the three hostesses, Mesdames H.B. Coban, Carl Britt and Lloyd Newton, made the ladies' day at Miami Country club one of the outstanding of this season. Potted Shamrocks, green tapers and crepe paper were used on the luncheon tables. High score at the bridge was won by Mrs. A.C. Wallace. The sewing prize was awarded to Mrs. Roy Green. The next luncheon will be served by the club cateress and the hostesses on the occasion will be Mrs. L.A. Wetzel and Mrs. Matt Connell.  Members playing in foursomes are urged to have lunch with the group and play at reserved tables afterwards. There will be no additional charge for such reservations.

Note that the women were referred to as Mesdames through the 1940's. First names of the women were rarely if ever used in reference to golf tournaments and scoring. They went by their husbands names. This piece of history can be seen on the trophies of the era through the 1970's. 

This small red tee, only one inch and a half long, is a personal souvenir from a thirteen year old golfer and Bing Crosby fan, Sarah Hilliard Mirjanick. Sarah received this autographed tee from Bing Crosby on the day he played golf in Miami. (September 25, 1942) The picture of the tee is shared by Sarah's daughter, Rebecca Mirjanick Davis. 

**Stay tuned for the TIMELINE and personal stories that I can add through the 1950’s and 1960’s. Use this URL to access any of the Miami Golf and Country club blog:  <https://mgcchistory.blogspot.com/>

** The snake pit might have seen snakes wonder through it, but it was built or dug out for the purpose of practicing golf during the winter. My father set up a mat and a large indoor/outdoor net that held the golf balls hit from a player on the mat. There was room for only one player (or one couple hiding behind the net and kissing). It also stored hidden beers and liquors that were illegal in Oklahoma in the 1950's-early 1960's. 

*** To read more stories from the early days of golf in Oklahoma and the Miami Golf and Country Club TIMELINE please click on the following links.

1914-1929 Rockdale Country club  Later Rockdale became the Miami Country Club

1930-1934 Miami Country club 

1935-1937 Miami Country Club

1938 The Club Enters a New Era

1938 Miami Country Club

1939 Miami Country club

Ed Dudley's Career

Tee Shots: Golf Lessons

Oklahoma PGA Champions

Golf's Man of the Decade 1930-1939

1940 Miami Country Club's Course Layout

The Golf Gypsy Gets Derailed

It is no fun to write about golf when the game plays havoc with the body, or perhaps it is the body that plays havoc with the game and the mind.

“The first thing golf teaches us is humility.”

spoken by every man and woman

Last spring my right shoulder gave out, teaching me to comb my hair, eat my food, and stir the cookie batter left-handed.  I tore my rotator cuff two decades ago, and yet thanks to therapy and perseverance I survived without surgery, and continued to play competitive and social golf.

This time the pain sent me to a doctor first (good idea!). When she explained that I needed rotator cuff surgery, and continued to explain in detail what it would involve and that the outcome might be limiting to my golf swing, I shed tears.  "NO," was all I could say. "I do not know how many more years I can play and I want to play well." 

"Then go to the gym and see if you can strengthen it. Know, that no matter how much you strengthen your shoulders, you will have lost distance because of the tear, and the years of overuse."

A vague memory crept forth through the brain fog, and I saw a young woman carrying a leather bag on her right shoulder through high school and college, and even well into her thirties. No wonder the doctor used the term “overuse.”

Within the week I was in the gym and found a trainer who worked specifically with me on my shoulders and core. Amazingly enough it worked. By May I felt sore but happy to be playing golf. The doctor was right. I have lost 20 yards and sometimes more with each club in my bag. (And I don’t like it one bit.)

Worse yet, the inconsistency I experience with my swing builds frustration in my soul. Water holes at The Trails Golf Club became my nemesis. Strength training gave me the ability to swing. Core training kept me turning. But confidence let me down and suddenly, water holes, trees, and Pampas grass derailed my thinking. 

I felt myself top the ball into the water; hit the ball high and watch it drop short of the bank; shank the ball into the Pampas grass; and scuzz the ball over my left toe and hit a tree that wasn’t in my line of sight. Still I persevered because I love the challenge of the game and the friends I meet. 

This course will take a bit out of you. 

When a lady at a golf tournament this fall asked me why I wasn't writing about my golf, it was easy to reply," because I'm not playing good golf." 

She laughed and replied, "Then that's a story in itself. I certainly don't play good golf every time I want to either." 

Point made.

"Have more humility. Remember you don't know the limits of your own abilities. Successful or not, if you keep pushing beyond yourself, you will enrich your own life--and maybe even please a few strangers."  A.L. Kennedy 

 

This last two months I have finally been able to generate some speed through the ball thanks to working with a trainer in the gym from March until August.  But I wasn't satisfied. I felt like something was still missing.

I turned to my good friend Dr. Beth Brown from SupHER Power Golf and have been shouting with joy and playing steadier golf since I heard her metaphor and followed her swing advice. 

"Keep the engine going through the swing. If the 

hips stop turning the arms collapse." 

Dr. Beth Brown 

Dr. Beth’s suggestions grounded me and reminded me of what I already knew but had lost.

One: Swing with the intention of swinging out to the target.

Two: Place a tee in the ground a few inches in front of the ball when practicing and swing the club through the ball and touch the tee. (On the golf course visualize this happening.)

Three: Create a smaller swing. (This worked better for me than to think about shortening my swing.)

Four: Keep the engine going. (Not as easy as it sounds when the body over takes us, but it is the goal with every shot.)

My husband and I enjoy watching college football. An article in the Boydstreet Magazine (October 2021, Issue 10, Vol.20) on Gabe Brkic, OU football kicker and current hero, caught my attention. The interview shares how Brkic enjoys playing golf in his free time. Brkic explains,

“I can translate some things from golf into kicking field goals and punting. In golf, I’ll pick a target line and make sure my club swing goes through my target line, same as with field goals. I’ll pick a target in the stands and as long as my leg swings straight through that I’ll hit a good ball.”

Gabe Brkic, kicker, pg. 46
Boydstreet Oct. 21

 How simple the game can be when it takes on a visual meaning that is attainable and visceral. Practice is necessary and it is one part of the sport I enjoy.

Now the Golf Gypsy is back on the tracks and moving through the ball.

 

** Dr. Beth Brown is now writing children's books with her favorite characters, Divot and Swish. If you have children or grandchildren please consider going to her website to learn more about the Confidence Divot and Swish learn through sports. Look for her second book to come out in December.  

The Adventures of Divot and Swish

 

 

Follow in my Footsteps by Murphy Doodle

BAD MURPHY. . . BAD MURPHY 

that is me, Murphy Doodle, dog, writer, fly boy, comedian, goof ball, puppy, k-oss, all disk-guysed like a sheepdog

* * *

a few days ago i was pretending to fly in the house, i love to run and jump then leap off the blue furniture and fly through the air, i never knock over any thing big so i don't know why flying is bad

now i can't fly anymore around the soft blue furniture because a few days ago letty moved the soft cushion couches away from open space, blocking me from jumping over it and scaring people when they come to visit, 

instead she moved her chair to the open space and i thought it was just for me, it wasn't

when i ran and jumped on her chair it moved sideways and i fell instead of flying and bumped my chin, i almost whimpered, next thing i knew she was beside me rubbing my head, i like that part of falling 

after i pulled myself up walked around the house looking for a new approach, i decided to run and jump from the other room, that didn't work either because her chair moved again and this time she chased me and scolded me about being bad, how can having fun be bad? i do not understand her and i do not like to hear that yellow can RATTLE next to me, it scares me

the morning after it rained and kept me inside, i spent the hole afternoon with jack the yard builder, he said i was like a cheerleader that i made lots of noise, jumped up and down all afternoon while he put stones down on the ground, i don't know why he covered up ground because i like to run thru the dirt and the flowers so i can listen to them crunch under my feet and sleep on a new green bed 

 

letty said that Jack's stone work looked mag nicent, big words confuse me

i wanted to help Jack all afternoon but he would not let me dig,  he said NO NO NO so many times that i finally went to the porch to lay down and howl

letty finally let me in the house with her so i would not get in trouble any more outside with jack

last night they went out of the house somewhere, i know because letty smelled different than normal and i was out after dark

i had the most funnest night of my life, it rained and i was left alone in the big back yard, i chased squirrels alone the fence until they were gone and i mean gone, no more ugly squirrel talk, sometimes they are mean and throw things at me from up above where i can not jump high enough to bite a tail

after i drank a lot of water and chewed on the plastic bowl,  i ate a hole in the soft cushion that i like to lay on, but i knew i was in trouble when the wind began to blow and all of the soft white fluffy stuff blew in whirling circles around the yard, now there is a hole in my bed and i am sorta sorry that i did that

when it stopped raining i had to go check the fence line and make sure the yard was safe for my family, that is when i found the new hole where a bush once lived, jack must have left it for me to play in

it was a circle of beautiful glossy slicky sticky mud where there used to be a bush, i am glad the bush is gone because now i can chase the squirrels all the way down the fence without running around the bush

i thought i was so lucky to feel the fresh sticky licky mud, i dug and dug and buried my nose in it, i don't know why i bury my nose in the mud because it sticks to me and i do not like a sticky nose, the mud even stuck to my ears and on my tail, i felt icky all over, but i could not clean it off, i rolled in the grass over and over trying to clean myself, it did not work

i was happy when they came home but not for long

jack opened the back door like a the gentle doggie dad that
he is and let me in, suddenly he grabbed me and yelled, HELP

i thought that was strange, i did not need any help

letty came running and screamed my name out loud

i think she even laughed, but i am not sure

 

the picture of shame

 

jack carried me to the shower and closed the door, after grumbling and putting on her bathing suit, letty stepped in the shower and gave me a bath, at first she mumbled words like THIS IS A WASTE OF TWO GOOD MOSCOW MULES, hear why she confuses me, we do not have mules here and i am not a mule, whatever is a moscow mule? 

anyway, i did exactly what she said and let her scrub me all over, mainly it felt good to be wet and clean, and she was nice to me, she held me and said GOOD MURPHY, GOODY MURPHY

she even laughed and said AT LEAST YOU DON'T SMELL LIKE SKUNK

hum, skunk, i do not know what that is, guess i will just have to learn that word

just before bedtime she cornered me with the blow dryer, but i was tired of being in trouble and she had treats, so i let her blow hot air on me until i was sorta dry 

this morning i found out that i am GROUNDED,

i thought that was good because i love to feel the ground, the dirt, the mud, and the wet green grass but i do not think this is the same ground because i have been in the house all day long

jack said that i can not go outside without adult super vision, neither of them have super vision if you ask me

i do not understand them sometimes

The End   

i think i will go eat some dinner

The crime scene filled in by Jack, the yard builder, the next day

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