Don't help me!!!

One day while living on Qualibrook, I walked home from school to find that Tara had "helped" me clean my room. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! When Tara helps you clean anything, that generally means that half your stuff goes missing and you'll never see it again. Now, I admit that I wasn't always the cleanest or most detailed organizer in my earlier years. But, I was organized none the less. I knew that my homework was over in the corner, by my dresser, under that pile of clothes, stuffed animals and a few prized rocks. But when I came home that fateful day, the top of my dresser was bare, there was empty space under my bed, and my pathway on the floor was gone - EVERYTHING on that cement floor was gone (we didn't have it carpeted at the time). I was devastated! Where was all my stuff?!? When I asked her, she insisted that I wouldn't miss anything she threw away. What?!? You threw them away?!? My precious posessions?!? I was especially sore about my favorite stuffed animal, the scotti-dog, which I promtly pulled out of the garbage bin. As I pulled it out, I also saw the other things that I knew I would miss for sure! But when Tara saw me hauling in all the stuff she'd just purged, she demanded that I throw it back out. I threw most of it back out, except for the scotti dog. I kept that. But somehow it disappeared again.

I'm Bianca...

As most of you know, there was a time when I changed my name. You see, the Rescuers Down Under movie had just come out, and Bianca was just soooo beautiful, and ladylike, and classy, and she had an accent, and all that la-dee-dah stuff that I wanted to have and be. So I changed my name. Now I could be beautiful and lady like and classy.... Anyway, I guess Tiffany didn't get the message. We were living on Gentry and I was playing with my toys in the living room by the scratchy blue couch. She walked in and called me by my old name, "Jannie," and waited patiently for my reply. When I didn't respond she repeated, "Jannie?" I continued to ignore her as I played with my toys. Less patiently, she tried again and raised her voice, "Jannie!" ...no answer... "JANNIE, I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME! I'M STANDING RIGHT HERE IN THE SAME ROOM AS YOU! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!!!" Very calmly and collectedly, with a slight accent, and without looking up I replied, "I'm Bianca." I guess that didn't make her very happy. Through clenched teeth she growled, "Weeelll BIANCA..." and she delivered whatever message she had to say.

I did change my name back to Jannie eventually. I think that happened when I repeated the scenario with Mom and she decided out of frustration that I wasn't allowed to change my name to Bianca... or anything else for that matter.

Aaron did it!

Poor guy, Jayson made him the scapegoat for everything. Even if Aaron didn't do it, Jayson said he did. We all knew better, or we think we did. It's hard to decide which one (Jayson or Aaron) to believe. But either way, Aaron did it!

Frogging

I swear she did it. Everyday. For two years! In the same spot!!! On my right arm just below the shoulder. I would be innocently walking into the kitchen on Gentry, minding my own hungry business, when all of a sudden, out of no where, she'd plant a hard knuckle right into my arm. She had it in for me. And it hurt sooooo bad! Because she just kept frogging me in the same place, so the bruise would never heal. What did I do to deserve that, anyway? I could never retaliate. I was too good natured and kind. So, I would tell Mom, but nothing would happen. Tara would just giggle wickedly and run away. I'm still trying to forgive her for it.

Better photo of Me!

Since it is my month... I thought I would post a picture of me that I liked!

Jannie - great shot!

Memories of Aaron - by Jannie

Aaron, Aaron, Aaron.... Where do I begin? Most of my memories of Aaron are in my later years. I do remember, however, when he came home from his mission he brought me a little porcelain bear and a leather pouch, both hand-crafted from Argentina. I took them to school for show and tell. Ooooooo, ahhhhhh! I was so enthralled with all of his mission stories that I did my 6th grade country report on Argentina.

Aaron's a creative kind of guy. I remember he took a 6 inch peice of a broken machetti, sharpened it, and mounted it in a wooden handle that he bound in rope. Then he made a leather-wrapped wood sheath for it, with feathers and beads (which make me friendly), and gave it to me. I loved it! I remember taking it with me to girls' camp and everyone being impressed that my brother made me a knife - and a cool knife at that! I think he made a second one too and gave it to Sundee or Charity.

I've learned a lot from Aaron. Besides the hot-water-freezes-faster-than-cold-water kind of "facts" (and he had more of those by the way), I've learned a lot of real stuff, like how to make sawdust candles and wilderness survival tips. I love that kind of stuff, and he always had something new he could teach me. I remember going to his house and finding him in his backyard teaching his kids about growing food and building fires. His oldest, Adom, came up to me and told me all the different ways Aaron had taught him to start fires. I wasn't sure how great it was that his 11 year old son was already a pyro, but apparently he got it from his dad. At least Aaron didn't light the house on fire like Jayson did - although Jayson probably used the classic "Aaron did it!" Usually when Jayson said that, Jayson was the one who actually "did it," but he was still all too happy to give Aaron the credit.

I'm grateful for the time I got to spend with Aaron after college. After I graduated, I lived close by and would get to see him fairly often. We had a lot of meaningful conversations, and still do - some that make me think, some that make me laugh, some that make me cry. It means a lot that I can count on him. The other day when I was stranded in the road, Aaron dropped what he was doing to come rescue me. He brought Adom too, teaching him to rescue the damsels in distress - or at least his distressed Aunt! I appreciate my older brother. Thanks Aaron.

The I - Game

Do you all remember the I-Game? Mom would sit on one side of the room and and be the I-Person (I think that was what we called it) and we would all line up on the other side of the room. Someone would say "I" and then Mom would call their name and start counting while the person ran to her and touched her knee. Whatever number she got to by the time they touched her knee was how many things they had to pick up in the room. I remember that sometimes Jayson or Aaron would get to be the I-Person and when they called your name they would count as fast as they could, "one-da-three-fo-fi-sis-sevn-ay-ni-ten-levn..." And then of course the touching the knee part of the game morphed into slap-the-knee-as-hard-as-you-can, a change for which I think Jayson and Aaron would be only too happy to take the credit.
I loved the I-Game. I've actually started playing it with my boys recently because Boston is now old enough to get the concept. They think it's great. And I think its great that the room gets picked up. And so everybody is happy.

Buenos Aaron

I remember when Aaron was on his mission that he was having a hard time with the language, but then he really internalized it and even starting thinking in Spanish and then it came like a tidal wave (or something like that). Mom said people even started asking if he was from Buenos Aires because his accent was so good. So building on that, after we picked him up from the airport when he returned from his mission, we were all driving for a while--deep into the night, I think. Anyhow, we were all falling asleep, but then there was a bump in the road that jostled all the passengers. Tara had fallen asleep on Aaron's shoulder and when the car bumped, she sat up and Aaron turned to her and started saying something in Spanish and patting his shoulder. Tara just looked at him and said, "Padah, padah, padah. I don't understand Spanish." (or something like that) Aaron and the rest of us just started laughing and then he repeated that it was okay for her to rest her head on his shoulder in English. So I guess he not only started thinking in Spanish, he was dreaming in Spanish too. Having recently completed a couple of semesters of Spanish, I am truly awed at people who can speak a second language fluently. I think it is a gift.

Soft hearted Daddy- by Sundee

We were all watching a movie. At one point the story got very sad. All the girls were crying. Then we heard Dad sniffing. When we all looked at his teary eyes, he defended himself, "It's a sad movie!"

I love that my Daddy is soft hearted.

Lemon Juice- by Sundee

Jayson was in the kitchen and was going to pour lemon juice on something... A 3 or 4 year old Sundee came in with big eyes looking longingly at the "juice". Jayson, the kind, big brother that he is, asked if she wanted some. Sundee smiled and nodded vigorously. So Jayson filled a 1/4 cup measuring cup to the brim, handed it to Sundee and said, very sweetly, "Drink it all!" ...meanie...

Windbags and Bagpipes - by Jannie

I remember living on Minton and each of the sisters would individually take some time to practice singing. We sang with feeling, so sometimes we got a little loud – especially since the vaulted ceilings and wide walls reverberated the sound so well. Jayson liked things quiet. So he'd come out of his bedroom (which was also conveniently close to where the piano was) and tell whomever it was to STOP SINGING, or at least sing softer because he couldn't think with us singing so loudly. But then he would turn around and practice the bagpipes in his bedroom. Being a very new beginner, the bagpipe drones were out of tune and the bag wasn't always filled with air - so usually it sounded like a dying cow...a really LOUD dying cow. So then when he complained about our noise, we would argue that he had no room to speak. At least our "noise" sounded like music and we weren't nearly as loud as he was anyway.

One day, Charity was practicing her singing. Maybe Summer was practicing. Actually, I think it happended to me too, but anyway Somebody was practicing singing - and naturally it was loud. She was so caught up in the feeling of the song that she didn't hear Jayson sneaking out of his bedroom. And in the middle of a climactic note, Jayson crept up right behind her blew his bagpipes with all his strength! She half screamed half yelled as she whirled around, wide-eyed and shocked. But in a split second, her shock turned to fuming anger as Jayson doubled over in laughter. She started coming after him yelling – and he half ran away, half staggered away because he was laughing so hard.

Ah, the joys of a musical Scottish family.

BabyTara

I was just testing to see if I could actually post a picture. It is my lucky day. Just so ya all know. This is Tara in the spring of 1974. (between 4 and 6 months old). OOO h so cute.

Summer's high school fling - by Jayson on Tara's account :)

Ok Igot one for you.................I was staying up late one night to make sure Summer was going to make it home on time from her date. heheheh...! Being the dutiful Big Brother I was watching in place of Dad so he wouldn't worry. Well, 10 minutes to midnight Summer and her date stroll up to the door(mind you it's winter in taylorsville and there's snow on the porch....how Romantic! :) ) So I peek through the curtain {HA, they don't see me!} and notice them talking for a minute and then they embreaced in a big hug and planted a big wet one ON THE LIPS! It was too good!!!! I whipped the door open and sang out KISS alittle longerrrrr......... I still chuckle about that one:)

Nincompoop AKA Ninja-com-poop

Well the cleverness of Aaron is intense. He is very quick witted. This is my version of the story. Jayson and Aaron were in their early teens (fourteen-ish) and "play" sword fighting with sticks. I believe the weapons were old broom handles or the like. Well the boys were being Jedi- fending off the evil foe valiantly (a brother can definitely be a foe). I think Aaron got a really good swipe in at Jayson. Jayson was keenly irritated that Aaron got such a good contact and yelled, "Aaron! your are such a Nincompoop!" Aaron quipped with out a moment's hesitation, "That's RIGHT! Part NINJA part COM-POOP!" Jayson crumpled into laughter onto the ground. By the time Aaron realized his faux pas the damage was done. Aaron would be forever living down being a Ninja with a bit of gardening fertilizer always following in the next syllable.

Another Aaron & Ice- by Sundee

Wouldn't you know it? Aaron pulled that line on me too! Thinking that hot water froze faster than cold, I filled up Benji's water dish one cold winter evening with piping hot water, just to see... The dog sniffed the steaming bowl and looked up at me incredulously. From then on it always seemed that Benji was just a little wary when I filled his water dish.

Jayson's Joke - by Sundee

Jayson heard a great joke. It goes something like this: Where was the cat when the lights went out? In the dark. Ha ha ha! Jayson thought it was a fabulous joke, so he thought that he would pass it on. However when Jayson went to deliver it, he got so excited he said,"Where was the cat when the lights went out in the dark?" So much for waiting for the punch line.

Destiny - by Summer

Someone has probably already included this, but it is just classic. Dad said one time that he couldn't wait for destiny to hit the boys over the head. Well, soccer boppers were all the rage with the brothers (this was on Gentry), and as destiny would have it, a soccer bopper with the word "Destiny" written on it fortuitously showed up in Jayson's hand. This was not so fortuitous for Aaron, because Jayson used destiny to knock Aaron over the head, until, of course, Aaron took hold of destiny and returned the favor.

Muppets - by Summer

I hope I get this story right, it was a long time ago. We loved the muppet caper as kids, and one night while we were watching it, the part where the band is playing on the bus and animal goes to town on the drums really struck the heart of Jayson. A minute later, he came in the room with a rainbow tinsel wig on and banged I don't remember what, just like animal. Oh, we roared!

Jayson Scoop - by Summer

Whenever we had ice cream, mom would say we could only have one scoop. So, Jayson got around that requirement quite nicely. He would scoop out half of the ice cream in the carton at once, all on one scoop, and put it in his bowl. That is how the Jayson Scoop began.

The Skateboard - by Summer

When we lived on Gentry, Jayson decided to take Benji (stupid dog) for a walk. But he decided a ride would be better, on a skateboard. I remember looking out the window and watching Jayson on his skateboard, being pulled by Benji, who was pulling like a sled dog. Jayson was cruising! I don't know if Jayson stayed on the board, I didn't see how he landed!

Running Man - by Summer

At Basic Training, Jayson was one of the fastest runners, so he wasput in group A (the fast group). One day he was running the track and one of his friends was jogging, too. He came up on his friend, passed him, and said "Hey, (Friend's name-can't remember), passed ya!" His friend said some choice words and Jayson kept running. Jayson came upon him again and said, "Hey, (Friend's name), you still here?" then passed him again. Pretty cool. Ever think of doing marathons, Jaybones?

Aaron and Ice - by Charity

One hot summer afternoon, I was getting myself a nice cup of icewater. Naturally, I emptied the tray. As I was going to fillthe tray back up with extra cold water, Aaron told me, "Did youknow that hot water freezes faster than cold?" I had neverheard of such a thing. It contradicted my common sense, but asI was into trusting older siblings at the time, I turned thewater as hot as it would go--filling the ice tray with steaminghot water. After a while, I went to the freezer to see theseintensly fast freezing ice cubes, and found that they didn'tlook any different than when I had put them in. Hmmm... Iwonder if he took advantage of my innocent and eagerobedience...Maybe?...

Dad and the Charging Bull - by Aaron

This is one as related to me by mom.Dad & mom had gone to Uncle Jim Tryon's home to take care of Grandpa Tryon or something. When they got there they discovered that the neighbor's bull had gotten into Uncle Jim's side yard. Dad, having had some farm animal experience, grabbed a rope from the shed and went over the fence into the side yard, approaching the bull. the ornery animal was on the far side of the pasture apparently and when it saw dad, it perked its ears up and looked at him. when dad didn't stop, the bull started in dad's direction, gradually picking up speed (cue Jaws theme music).

Dad was about 1/2 way across the field when the bellicose bull charged (cue Chariots of Fire theme). Dad dropped the rope and did a crisp about-face; after which he abandoned all decorum and propriety and beat feet for the fence. The bull was fast but dad was faster (potentially mortal motivation helps i assume). The fence was about 5 ft tall and was one of those tubular steel affairs, but no matter. Dad hurdled the fence in such a way that Jesse Owens would take notice.That's my story & I'm stickin' to it!

Jayson, You Gunky! - by Aaron

Oh Goodie!! (rubs hands together while laughing maniacally) Have I got dirt for you! Where do I start!?!?!?!

Well! I remember when we lived on Decatur. Jayson and I had just finished reading the dictionary for summer reading and we'd discovered the Peanuts and the Garfield treasury comic books. Jayson read one of the Peanuts books where Lucy would go around and each time she would see Linus, she'd push down on his head, to the exasperated frustration of Linus. Her logic in this was to "inhibit his growth so I'll always be taller than him". Jayson thought this to be a message to him from on high, delivered by angelic choirs with pillars of light descending, because he proceeded to ATTACK me with religious zealotry and would push my head down with vigor! (Jayson, you Gunky!)

Another thing I recall is that during his junior and senior year in high school (Gentry house), he was on the wrestling team. He'd come home and decide to try his wrestling moves on me...mostly without my prior knowledge, or permission! He delighted especially in the guillotine move. I was in the choir for heaven's sake! I could sing a mean Tenor line, but wrestling?!?!? (What more could he do to me!) Jayson, you Gunky!

Mom and the Neighbor's Dog - by Aaron

One story I remember about mom is when we'd just moved into the Decatur home. At the time, it was just a new built home and there was no fence between us and the Kunde's house. Jayson and I were throwing something, most likely dad's nicer screwdrivers trying to get them to land point down in the dirt (kids, get your parents permission before you throw your dad's tools...or Uncle Aaron's tools). I don't recall who threw it, but the screwdriver landed in the Kunde yard and Jayson ran after it. They had a dalmatian dog, I think it was named Allah that was tied with a rope to the back porch. I guess Jayson intruded on her territory, so she broke the rope and attacked him. The next thing I saw is mom charging out of the house with her new broom toward the dog brandishing it like a lightsaber (Luke Skywalker would have been proud!). So I have this vision of courage about mom taking on the world with her broom.

Memories of Jayson - by Jannie

I remember late nights during my high school years, talking with Jayson about muscle cars. He knew EVERYTHING about muscle cars! He taught me all about V-8 and hemi engines, fuel injection and blowers. One night he found me the perfect Jannie-car: a 1972, blue Dodge Charger with a blower and silver skunk stripes (they were never referred to as racing stripes, but rather skunk stripes). He printed me off a picture which I kept in my bedroom for a long time. I ended up buying a 1990 Pontiac Bonneville that smelled like an old man. It was far from a muscle car, but big brother Jayson was always the first to help me fix it. The car was rusted, and the fuel pump desperately needed to be changed. So, sweet brother J-Bones bought some Rust-Away stuff that helped remove the rust so I could get the bolts and screws to come apart. Then he gave me stuff to put in my gas tank to clean out my engine, stuff to make the car run faster, or more efficient, or whatever! He was always helping me with that beast. And when it was time to fix his car, he’d ask me to help. We were grease-monkey buddies! I’d hold the hood and spray a can of stinky who-knows-what while he revved the engine of his little rice-burner, his Geo Metro. Those were good times for me, times when I really got the chance to build a friendship with my oldest brother.

I also remember times when Charity and I were gone to BYU. I never made much time to call anyone from home, but Jayson always made time for me and Charity. The first thing out of his mouth was a loud, fast and almost raspy, “Hallo, my Leeetle Seeester!” And our response was, “Hallo, my Beeeger Brother!” His greeting always sounded better than ours. And I loved getting the calls! He always had something sweet to say that would make me feel so important. I loved that. Thanks, my Beeeger Brother!

Jayson has the best stories! His stories are told at high speed, with dynamics and extreme animation (Jayson is a living cartoon). He tells the story with his eyes, his hands, his arms and legs. Now you must understand one thing about the Murdock family. When we laugh hard, you hear a loud burst at first, but then the whole room goes quiet because we usually can’t breathe. While we struggle to make our breath move between our vocal chords, we end up making soft “clicks” instead of hee-hees or ha-has. So Jayson starts telling his stories – usually about Benji, or chasing Aaron around the house – and soon enough, the family roars with laughter, then turns to silent clicking. But every time the room goes quiet, Jayson adds something funny to the story, which makes us laugh harder, which makes us go quiet, so Jayson adds something funny to the story…and on it goes. It ends when Jayson gets laughing with us and we’re all laughing helplessly in a quiet, breathless guffaw. Then we have a moment to wipe our tears, stretch our tired abs, and BREATHE! I’m telling ya, nobody tells a story like Jayson does!

The Scary Spider - by Jannie

It was a dark night on Quailbrook Drive. My room was in the haunting unfinished basement where the ceiling creaked, and the stairs croaked, and we all shared thin walls of 2 x 4s and blankets. I was lying in my bed, when I suddenly noticed the floor turning black. I looked closely and was horrified at my discovery – Daddy Long-Legs! Thousands of them were covering the cement floor! Then they began to crawl up and cover the blankets on my bed. I squirmed as far away from them as the head of my cannon-post bed would allow.

A large wolf spider the size of a tarantula climbed up one of my bed posts until the daddy long-legs passed him. They were heading for the corner of the room where there was a small hole and a tiny neon sign that read, “HOTEL.”

A spider hotel?

I watched as the wolf spider made his way into the hotel and my room was emptied of arachnids. Panicking, I grabbed the Raid (the ultimate bug killer in a can) and sprayed that hotel with all my might. Suddenly the wolf spider emerged, eyes red and raging. He began jumping! He jumped as high as my face and back to the floor again yelling, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING? THIS IS MY HOTEL? YOU’RE GOING TO RUIN EVERYTHING! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WOULD…” and he let out a roaring SNOOOOOOORT! I sat straight up in bed, short of breath, heart pounding, eyes searching the room for spiders, when I heard again a loud SNOOOOOOORE. I paused for a moment, then sighed in relief. “Oh, it’s just Jayson.” I took a deep breath and curled back up, grateful that my oldest brother had just saved me from a creepy, hairy, fiery-eyed beast.

Then I suddenly came to grips with what really just happened. I giggled to myself as I drifted back to sleep. “Jayson snores, heh, heh, heh….”

Jayson's Birth - Mom's version

When I was expecting Jayson, Eddie was working in Scottsdale at night. He was driving Uncle Larry’s motorcycle to and from work. I don’t remember where Uncle Larry was probably on his mission. Anyway, it was a blessing to us to get to use it. I went into labor one night when Eddie was at work. I was talking to him on the phone timing the contractions. I actually knew nothing about how close they were supposed to be. But they were very strong and were continuous. By that I mean that as soon as one stopped another one started. There was no break in between. We decided I needed to call someone to drive me to the hospital. So I called OlaMae. As soon as I started talking, she said something like “Why are you still there?” She immediately came to my rescue and took me to the hospital. I think she ran a red light. When we got to the hospital, they of course admitted me. It took about three hours to deliver Jayson. The problem was, he was frank breech. That means he was bottom first and his feet were crossed over his chest. (And he wasn’t tiny!) But if he wasn’t breech, he probably would have been born at home, then we would all have been in trouble.

In the meantime, Eddie was trying desperately to get to the hospital. He either ran out of gas or had a flat tire and was having trouble getting there. Eventually he was able to flag down a car, asked for a ride to the hospital and made it in plenty of time. (Remember the three hours.) He was in the waiting room because he wasn’t allowed in delivery back then. There was an intercom in the room so there could be communication between the waiting room and the delivery room. Eventually, they let us talk to each other over an intercom. When I told him we had a little boy, I remember Eddie asking for me to repeat it. I felt irritated because I was so exhausted and it was all I could do to tell him the first time. It turned out Dr. Leavitt had told him earlier it was a girl. But Jayson was a big beautiful healthy boy and that was all that mattered. When I left the hospital I weighed 91 lbs. which was less than I weighed when I got pregnant. I guess the birth caused a little trauma to my body.

Sundee's Birth - Sundee's Version

Sunday, September 21, 1980: Ouch! I'm never doing that again!

My Hair's This Color - by Mom

Qne day, when we lived on Decatur , we had a workman outside working on something in the yard. It had something to do with the streetlight, I think. Anyway, Jannie was the baby at the time. The two little girls Sundee and Jannie were outside with me and were watching him. He mentioned to Jannie “Where did you get your beautiful red hair?” The next day the same thing happened with a different man working on the washer. This time little Sundee touched her hair and said, “My hair is this color” From that point on I told Sundee she was our beautiful blonde. And she still is!!!

Tara the Brave and the Gooood Doggie-Woggie - by Tara

I was in about fourth grade when we lived in the house on Decatur , Mesa Arizona . I had been sent out to feed the dog, Benji. But it was probably more like I was insistent that I was going to feed the dog. We kept the dog food in the storage room. I had to go out the kitchen, through the laundry room and out the back door. The storage room was only about a five by eight foot room, made of cinder block and painted Navajo white. The room was filled with all sorts of forgotten wonders. Except to dad of course, it was full of his treasures and he knew what the thing-a-ma-jig did in the corner and where to find the hammer – the most important of all tools. The door was like any other door, wooden and tan instead of Navajo white, because of innumerable hand prints and scuff marks all over it. I opened the brass door knob and stepped up the one step into the white cinderblock room. The room was dim because the sun was not all the way up yet. It was dusky dawn, but light enough to see. I picked up the measuring cup we used to scoop out Benji’s food. The bag of food was placed just inside the door, leaning up against a metal filing cabinet of some sort. As I leaned over the 20 pound bag, I put my right arm inside. The food was about 3/4th s gone. So being only about 9 or 10, I had to lean way over. Then! A scratching noise came violently from inside the bag, scurrying, hurrying. I screamed and lurched backwards throwing the measuring cup to wherever it landed. The scratching continued up the side of the bag and a sliding sound, followed by a tiny thud. I was pressing up against the door frame of the white cinderblock storage room, heaving heavy breaths with panic in my eyes. Whatever it was in that bag could not get out! AAAAAHHH! I ran inside the house wailing “There is something in Benji’s food!!!” To my surprise, Mom sent ME back out! I was instructed to “just dump over the bag and let it out“ Mother had said calmly to me. WHAT! MMEEE! There was nothing calm about this situation! I was hasty as I went back out to the beast, but this time panicked and Mad. I went back over to the bag of dog food. This time, it was slightly askew in the door jam. I slid around the bag, back arched and bum out. I was at least an arm’s length away, careful to keep as much of my body out in the yard as possible. In no way did I want to get stuck in that little room with a Monster that was lurking inside a seemingly innocent bag of dog feed. Whatever It was inside, It must have been at least 10 pounds… at any rate that is what my mind kept imagining. I took 3 very fast, gear up kind of breaths and reached my right pointer finger over to the bag. I caught the very edge of the bag, but it was enough! I pulled! And the bag of dog food slammed on its side, spilling little nuggets of tender beefy by-products, made especially for our canine friend. As the avalanche of doggie chow spilled onto the cement out side of the door and onto the grass, a fiend bolted from the bag! A mouse! It was about an inch and a half long, but to me it was ten inches and was a forty five thousand, big fat monster! It began to run across the stickery half dead grass when; Benji realized a new toy had just been given to him! He seized the mouse and tossed it up into the air. HA! a new game. He did this about 2 more times before I got sick and ran inside. EEEowww! I am sure the end of the mouse was good for some fun for the canine of my youth – Dumb dog! But Good dog! Take care of that nasty rodent. I am traumatized by this memory to this day! However, this I believe is when the family realized that Benji was good for something. He was a mouser. Gooood Doggie-woggie.

Pink - by Jannie

Do you know what I think of when I think of Mom?...pink. That’s what I think of. Pink. I think of pink dresses and frills. I think of pink walls with pink furniture. I think of pink Victorian decorations, plates, and glass wares. I think of pink beads and pink flowers. If pink had a scent, Mom would smell pink.

Dinner with Mom - by Jannie

Back in the day, when we could fit 10 people around the dinner table, we sometimes got a little rowdy and laughy at the table. Mom would go into her lecture of “MY dad used to send us away from the table for laughing like this.” Then suddenly defensive, she added, “ …but HE wouldn’t leave the table if HE were acting like this. HE would stay at the table laughing himself to tears, but if any of US did that (murmur… mumble… murmur)….” The short lecture always morphed into the story about our dear sweet Mother as thin, young teenager who put her elbows on the table. Grandpa, the 6-foot 4-inch masonry man, would take his large hands and lightly slap her under the arm. This lifted Mom’s tiny arm off the table for a moment just to come down from it’s own weight with a light wham! Mom, a little taken aback at what Grandpa just did, determinedly shifted her upper-body weight to her elbow, certain that this would keep it from lifting off the table. To her dismay, it not only didn’t keep it from coming up, but it added weight to the landing, WHAMMING it down even harder – a move she was so sorry to have made. Grandpa would laugh himself to tears while she would rub her elbow and put more weight on it. Poor Mother. None of us ever did get sent away from the table for laughing loudly. Mom was usually the one laughing - pulling Grandpa’s trick on somebody else, or lightly pinching Dad’s arm, or…well…you name it! She’d laugh, laugh, laugh, then suddenly pull a somber face and say with a solemn gasp “Be reverent!” Then she’d pretend no one could see her as she started snickering again.

Mom's Famous Phrases - by Jannie

“When I am ON THE PHONE!!!”

"He who has the most birthdays lives the longest.”

“It's my birthday. Where's my present?!?"

"Brown Food" - it's chocolate. Hand it over and no one gets hurt.

Poor Pussy - Sundee's Verson

Often times for our family home evening activity, we played games. A favorite of course was Poor Pussy. I believe it was to drive home the principle of resisting temptation. Everyone sat on the floor in a circle and one person was the "pussy cat" in the middle. The "pussy cat" would then choose someone in the circle to be his or her prey and attempt to get him or her to smile. If the person could resist smiling and say the whole phrase, "Poor pussy, poor pussy, poor pussy. Go to the next corner," (all without cracking a smirk!) then they were safe and the "pussy cat" had to move on to another victim. This was great fun! Aaron was always stoic. It was nearly impossible to get him to smile EVER! The only person who could crack his stone wall was.... Mother! Mom, on all fours, would slink across the floor, meandering as she went, and then end up at Aaron's lap. Purring and meowing flirtatiously she would smoosh his cheeks and frazzle his hair. Aaron would have had a decided frown that was an obvious attempt to be everything opposite from a smile. He would try to open his mouth to send her on her way, and then… his shoulders would begin to slightly bounce. Mom, seeing this as a sign of encouragement, laid it on thick. Her catlike movements dissolving Aaron’s resolve with every second. The rest of us were rolling in fits of laughter. Again, Aaron would attempt to open his mouth and his shoulders would bounce even higher. At this point he would be scowling a very dark glower with the edges of his mouth creeping up. Mom would then stop everything and just look at him, coyly smile and meow one last purring meow. Aaron, unable to stay steadfast any longer would crumble. Hooray for Mother!

Mom's Story - by Tiffany

This is not an actual story. Is that okay? Well, maybe it’s a whole bunch of stories rolled up in one. When I think of experiences with Mom when I was growing up, one of the things that stands out the most is all of the time Mom spent at the sewing machine making stuff for me. I remember one time I walked in on her making a birthday dress for me. It was when we were staying with Grandma and Grandpa Tryon and I think I was turning 5 or 6 years old. Anyway, I walked in on Mom when she was sitting at the sewing machine making my “strawberry dress” as I called it. She very adeptly diverted my attention from it and sent me out of the room and I was still surprised when I got if for my birthday. That was one of my favorite dresses—the material was white with strawberries on it and it had a red bodice and plenty of ruffles. I also remember how she made me a blue gown and head covering when I was Mary in a school Nativity. I felt so graceful and Mary-like. I thought it was perfect. I also remember a time when she made me a shorts jumpsuit with multi-colored stripes. I remember my friend Bree and I both came to school one week with new outfits that our Moms had made for us. We bragged to each other about how our Moms had sewn them and how good the outfits looked. We both felt pretty cool that our Moms could sew so well. And then in high school I volunteered Mom to help make our choir dresses and she very graciously agreed to do it. I had no idea how much time and effort that little project would take (thanks, Mom J). I remember going to the fabric store with mom for reasons unknown to me and being BORED to death. The fabric store always played easy listening saxophone or piano versions of popular songs from the radio and I thought they were so dull. I did love the fancy fabric section though and the little accessories aisles. Sometimes mom would let us carry around one of those little 15-cent hard fuzzy bears and one time she even bought me one. And then as I got older the fabric store became more inviting. I remember going to the fabric store with her and being excited because we were going to pick out patterns and material for a school dance dress or a costume or a quilt or something fun like that. My closet is still filled with stuff Mom made for me: prom dresses, cute skirts, my baptism dress, bags, bridesmaids outfits, blouses, vests, my wedding quilt, my wedding dress—and there’s probably more to come, right Mom? :)

Mom - Summer's Memories

Some cool things that Mom taught me (that I didn't realize were so useful until I met so many other girls who weren't taught how to do these things!): how to sew, and how to sew cute things with bargain fabric, how to adjust a pattern, how to find a bargain, how to tie a bow, how to wrap a present, how to cut hair, how to coordinate colors, how to visualize, how to maintain an house, how to take care of your skin, how to get a boy's attention, how to match outfits, how to present things, including myself, how to do little girl's hair, how to magnify your calling, how to be resourceful and use what you have, how to get creative to cover mistakes--which sometimes turn out better than the original... the list goes on. But these were things I thought everyone would know how to do, because I and all my sisters knew how. I am still amazed at how much I know that so many other peers don't know. Thanks, Mom. Love, Summer

Teenage Mom - by Summer

One night in Taylorsville, a few of the girls were in the kitchen talking about boys. Mom was, of course, listening. I guess all of the boy talk got to her, because when she realized Dad was coming home, she propped one arm on the kitchen island counter and the other on the fridge (right?--whatever it was across from the kitchen island) and swung back and forth just like a 13-year-old on her arms saying "Dad's coming home!" We were delighted to see such a young mom!!

Vincent - by Summer

We used to love watching the TV show "Beauty and the Beast." And we quoted it all the time. With our four fingers over our nose, we would try to scare each other by saying "VINCENT!" One night Mom was joining our little conversation and she came in with the four fingers on her nose and said "KEVIN!" We stopped and stared at her and then burst out laughing. She said "Well, what is his name?!?" And we all chorused "Vincent!"

The BBQ - by Summer

Mom was lighting the barbeque on Preston. Isn't this funny how we use the street names for the houses we lived in and it puts you right there? Sorry, I digress. Anyway, she couldn't figure out how to light it. She had turned on the gas fully and was trying over and over again to get a flame. Suddenly, the gas hit the flame and shot a huge burst of fire out of the barbeque, with mom's face right there. It only singed her eyebrows and eyelashes and hair on her forehead, but she was mad. (Imagine a wet cat). And when she came in to tell us the story, instead of sympathy, we just laughed. It really was funny to look at her curled eyelashes and eyebrows. She sulked about it even more when no one seemed worried about it. We should've been, but it was just so funny. She truly was too cute to work there.

The Bleach Bottle - by Summer

While living in Taylorsville, someone had put a big bleach bottle on the kitchen counter. Mom was going to take it downstairs to the laundry and she braced herself to pick up the full weight of the bottle. With a heave and grunt, she hefted it, and her arm launched up. The bottle was empty. Rather smug inspite of the laughter from the rest of us, she trotted downstairs and threw the bottle away.

Jo My Mother - by Tara

How did Joanna Tryon Murdock end up with a handle like JoMyMother. Not, Mom. Not Mother, Not Mommy. Well… It was a sunny, hot day in Mesa Arizona. Imaging that, a warm day in the summer time in Arizona. The sun blazed through the windows of a department store. It was a Wal-Mart I believe. I was hustling around the store in search of mom. We had been separated as I had gone off in search of some nameless necessity. I had found something really exciting and was calling out “Mother, where are you.” To which I got no response from my mom! The store was crowded. I got lots of turned heads. You see everyone seems to be a mother, just not my mother. Then it hit me. She does not realize that I am seeking Joanna, My mother. So I began to call out Jo My Mother. I got an almost immediate response. So, the nick name was born. Now when we are together in a crowded place, I do not have to get the response of everyone else’s mom…because mine will tune out the sound of anyone calling out Mom, as any good mother does. I just call “JoMyMother” and viola! Mom Joanna appears. True story.

Daddy's Home! - by Jannie

I remember living on Gentry Street , playing with Charity and Sundee, when suddenly one of us would catch a glimpse of Dad’s car pulling into the driveway and yell, “Daddy’s home!” With that, we all rushed to the front door and danced excitedly in the entryway, hardly able to contain ourselves just knowing Daddy was coming through that door any second. Then, the doorknob turned, and the French door slowly swung open and there he stood – white shirt and tie, big 80s reading glasses, a briefcase in hand and his suit coat draped over his forearm.

“YAAAAAAAAAAAY!” we squealed as we ran to hug him...or rather hang on him. One of us hugged the right leg and sat on his foot while another did the same, plopping down on his left. One of us wouldn’t get a foot to sit on, which too bad because that was the favorite limb to get. But that was ok – we could still cling to his arm, and Daddy would give us a ride as he slowly made his way out of our white tiled entryway with a little girl on every free limb. Left, plop. Right, plop. Heave the right arm. Left, plop. Right, plop. Heave the right arm….

Mom would hustle in and see her three little monkeys hanging all over her worn-out husband and try to teach us manners. “Oh, get off him! Let him walk!” Then Mommy and Daddy had a little kissy kissy, and it was back to “Get OFF of him! He’s worked all day. Just let him rest!”

“Awww,” we would moan as we slowly obeyed. We hung on his one free hand a little, then we were back to play – for we knew that tomorrow promised another chance to ride on Daddy’s foot!

"I know ALL about fairies." - by Sundee

On a hot, summer day, when it was too hot to play outside, a few of my siblings and I were watching Disney's Peter Pan. My six-year-old eyes were watching very intently and I caught something I was sure NO ONE had EVER seen before. Excitedly, I jumped up and looked for a credible audience.

Dad had just gone into the kitchen! Dad is always a willing listener! I ran to Dad to share my discovery.

"Dad! Did you know that when pixies and fairies save someone, they always close their eyes?!"

Dad, very happily answered "Oh, they do? Well that's amazing!" Then he took a huge bite of his peanut butter slab.

Felling very good about myself, I replied "Yep, I know! I know all about fairies." Dad, with his mouth glued shut with peanut butter nodded empatically in agreement. I then trotted off to finish watching the movie, confident that Dad believed in me.

The End.

Dad's Poem - From Sundee

I found a poem Dad wrote to all the kids at the turn of the century (Y2K). I wasn't sure if you wanted to include it in your book, but I'm pretty sure no one else kept their copy. Mine is really old and yucky, so I will be tossing it as soon as I get it in digital format. The poem came attached to a clock for each of the kids. (maybe it was a Christmas present)


Ring out the Old
Bring in the New...
by Ed Murdock

A season to remember
The old is passing on
The future is soon upon us
A hundred years have gone.

So spend your lives so wisely
You can't call back the past
Look forward to this millennium
It evaporates so fast.

You must make an accounting
Your life in review
So ring out the Old with gladness
And bring in a Great New You.

Love Mom & Dad...

Dad's Story - by Tiffany

I remember the first time I learned that tears don’t always mean sadness. I learned it from Dad. I couldn’t have been more than three years old at the time (okay, I could have been more than three, but I don’t think I was—I just know I was pretty small.) Dad had been gone on a long business trip and so he hadn’t seen us in quite a while. Mom took some of us kids (maybe even all of us, I’m not sure) with her to pick Daddy up at the airport. When we saw Dad coming, I bounded up the corridor ahead of the rest of the pack to greet him. Dad set down his suitcase and knelt down to scoop me up. And as he picked me up, I noticed tears coming down his face. “Daddy, why are you crying?” I asked, “Are you sad?” He replied, “Sometimes people cry when they are happy, too.”

Memories of Dad - Tara's Version

All my life, we have grown up singing. My dad had been a huge influence in that process. He was exceptionally talented. Grandma Natal would take Ed with her to sing at the Saturday night dances. He sang at weddings and funerals and every church function possibly conceivable. We have heard stories of Dad being the top tenor in Arizona. He sang Peter’s Lament in the Arizona Easter Pageant on the temple grounds. But there is one event that just could not happen if Dad did not sing… That would be Christmas. Christmas is not Christmas with out Oh holy night sung by Uncle Eddie. I can not tell you how many people have told me that. There have been years when Dad has tried to have everybody else sing it, help sing it or not do it at all. However, he just has to sing it.

One Christmas in particular, I remember being at Grandpa Wilber Murdock’s old house on 9th Drive (I think). One of Dad’s brothers and sisters was not able to be at our Murdock Extended family Christmas celebration. So instead of just singing it, somebody...possibly Aunt Cherie shoved a recording device in front of Dad’s mouth to record his melodious voice. Aunt Moneta was at the piano and there was a single lamp on giving off a yellow light, putting Dad in a shadow, as he was in front of the piano. I remember Dad protesting at first and trying to make someone, anyone else sing it with him. But his sisters persisted in having only Eddie sing it. They were then going to send the tape to the long lost who could not be present.

This song was and still is the epitome of Christmas. Long lay the world in sin and error pining… till he appeared, and the soul felt its worth. This song has such great words and the tender feelings that come from it are made extra special by the beautiful tenor voice that carries the tune to my ears and into my heart. My Dad will always be the one and only man to sing that for Christmas. Everyone else has a great time singing it too, but it will always be Uncle Eddie’s song.

The Engagement story - Mom's version

After high school graduation, I moved to Utah where my parents already were. That didn’t last long and we were back. Once back I immediately started going to M-Men and Gleaners. That’s what they called Young Adults back then. Someone noticed that “Eddie Murdock was back from his mission.” Of course all the girls were interested. I started going to the M-Men and Gleaner Choir because I knew the rule. The rule was …still is … you have to be there! You need to be where the person is in order for that person to notice you. So, I faithfully went to the choir because he was the director. After a while he asked that I be called as the choir president. I was so flattered! I thought he liked me. That wasn’t the case. He only asked because I was always there. Anyway we worked together for a long time. It actually took me a year to get him to ask me out!

Well, one time we went to a snow party in the daytime. And that night I had a date with an old boyfriend that had just gotten home from his mission. On the way home from the snow party Eddie asked if I wanted to do something that night. I was sick, because I really liked him and I already had a date with the other guy that night. My response was very polite but I couldn’t because I already had a date. And I told him that he would have to ask a week ahead of time. (That wasn’t being snooty, but was the truth.) So the next night after a fireside he asked if I needed a ride home. Of course I didn’t need a ride, but I was going to accept one! On the way home, he asked me about doing something the next weekend ….the “whole weekend.” And then it began. Eventually we got engaged and married.

Oh, by the way, there were some girls that were mad at me because I won! Yay for me!!!!

"Sanctuary!" - by Summer

Okay, I've got a funny one. We all know Dad's office is a collector'sheaven. (At least his.) One day, I was cleaning out Dad's office onMinton so Tara could move into it. (They were moving back from St.Louis.) I did a pretty good job, and I was still careful to not justtoss everything I thought was unimportant. I wanted to check with Dadfirst. So, I loaded a box full of all the items I thought weregarbage, but wanted Dad to go through so I didn't throw away somethingspecial to him. (Tara's conditioned Dad to worry about this kind ofthing, you know.) I set the box on the kitchen table. (See, aren't Inice, I waited to ask him!) When Dad got home, I told him about thebox, and the fear of "Tara" came into his eyes. You know thelook--eyebrows jerk up and eyes flash with sudden knowing, lower lippulls up with eyebrows to cover upper lip. Without saying a word, andbefore he did anything else, Dad walked over to the table,protectively hoisted the box under his arm, marched over to the garagedoor, turned and looked at me triumphantly, filled up his chest withair, then proclaimed to all the house: "SANCTUARY!" and leapt intothe garage.

On that same idea, with the garage lovingly now named the "Sanctuary",Bryan and I were laughing about that story about a year ago. We cameto the conclusion that Dad's "Sanctuary" is full of Holy Crap!

Stay tuned...Summer

Everyone a Writer - Stories of our Brothers

Now that you are all official Authors of this website, feel free to post your stories! I'm going to post the stories you've already sent to me through email. I'm excited to read your stories on our new blog!

Also, we need to play a little catch-up from Charity's wedding. I got a few good stories for Jayson and Aaron, but not everyone had a chance to write during those busy months. So, repent ye!...and post your stories!

Spinning Yarn...

Welcome one and all to the family blog! I hope this will be a fun way for all of us to post our stories and memories. Eventually, remember, I want to make this into a book for posterity to enjoy or at least poke fun at for generations to come.

I've never done a blog before, but Summer seems to enjoy it! :)