Author: Joy Hurt

Alright, folks, let’s talk about putting our finances in order. I’m not talking about the “look-at-my-crypto-wallet” kind of way, but in the “please-someone-help-me-organize-this-mess” way. Let’s be real, financial lives can be more chaotic than a toddler on a sugar high. Don’t fret because the NOK Box (Next-of-Kin Box) can change your life from a bag of receipts into a thing of beauty just like it did for me.

What is the NOK Box, you ask? Well, it’s not some fancy gadget that promises overnight fame and riches. It’s a simple tool designed to organize your financial paperwork in a drawer larger than the one where receipts and unopened bills are currently stuffed. (We all have one of those, right?)

Have you ever spent hours looking for one lost password or opened your bank account app to see a bunch of numbers resembling a secret code only aliens understand? Yeah, that’s the “financial clutter” I’m talking about. The NOK Box doesn’t allow you to throw all your receipts, bills, and random paper clips into a bag and forget about them. Oh no, it’s a finely tuned system where each document has a place. In one file drawer, everything from vehicle registration to final wishes is stored to wait for the day they’ll be needed by a NOK (Next Of Kin).

There is a critical companion piece is critical. HHH and I have created an alphabetized collection of personal passwords updated with every new account. Containing Usernames and Passwords, these journals are priceless navigational tools. Dog-eared and scuffed, I use this journal often when forgetting the hundreds of codes we all need to remember. We found our journals on Amazon under the title “#%#& I Can’t Remember”. (Alphabetized version is critical.)

When I ordered my NOK box, I chose the cheapest option. It included tabs for file folders and step-by-step instructions on how to complete the project. Important keys were identified with small tabs while old, unknown keys were discarded. By the time the box was complete, I’d found many areas needing attention. From updating insurance, to ordering a copy of a deed from our county, I now have complete files at my fingertips.

Now, there’s an orderly place to record account passwords, account numbers, and balances. There are spaces to record the names and numbers of financial advisors and attorneys. In the normal life of humans, we spend way too much time hunting for elusive papers. By using this system, there is no more searching. A true thing of beauty.

Everyone knows organization is important, but how much time did this take? The original flurry took one week of intermittent searching and filing. The file is a living system, so it’s advisable to keep it close. Each section is a complete questionnaire so no detail is overlooked. To keep things interesting, the NOK Box lets you color-code everything. Because, let’s face it, nothing says “I’m an organized person” like a beautifully color-coordinated set of files.

Once you’ve mastered the NOK Box and your financial life is finally organized, it’s time to set some financial goals. Whether it’s saving for a vacation or paying down some hefty Christmas bills, when you’re organized it’s easier to see a bigger picture. If you make a wrong turn, the NOK Box helps to keep you on track with gentle reminders like, “Are you sure this was necessary?”

When finished, sit back, relax, and enjoy a newfound sense of control. You’ll start to feel like a financial guru who has it all figured out—when in reality, you’re just a person who decided to organize their files into a usable system. What better time to tackle this than the months before the TAX MAN cometh!

There you have it, folks: a way to organize your financial life without losing your sanity—or your smile. The NOK Box might not magically turn you into a billionaire, but it’ll definitely turn you into someone who knows where to find important documents. And let’s be honest, that’s half the battle, right?

Ah, the joys of winter’s slow retreat. While the world around us starts to warm, many are faced with a daunting challenge — the yard. This year, Winterpast has been left on its own for most of the colder months, slowly transforming into a tangle of branches, dead leaves, and perhaps a few misplaced lawn chairs. Now, it’s time to face the music (and the 35 trees).

Pruning and yard clean-up, often touted as a peaceful, zen-like activity, are more like the horticultural equivalent of a rock ‘n roll concert — chaotic, occasionally painful and involving things that not in the schedule, like cuts and scrapes. But don’t worry, friends. With a little humor and many YouTube videos, we can do this!

Let’s start with pruning. You know, trimming back all those overgrown plants that look like they’re trying to reenact Jumanji in your backyard. Pruning is an art form. It’s not just hacking away at anything that’s in your way (though that’s easy to do). No, no. Good pruning is the intentional reduction of limbs with a vision for the future.

The first step is assessing your plant situation. “Are these branches dead or just aggressively confused?” you ask yourself. They might be both. And let’s not even get started on the thorns. One minute, you’re calmly trimming the rose bush, and the next, you’re playing a game of “How many thorns can get stuck in my thumb before I lose all feeling?”

Bad pruning is similar to a bad haircut. You start out wanting to shorten your bangs, and before long, they are much too short. Yes, after a few seasons, your trees may come back, but think of the time you’ve lost. Much better to start with a solid understanding and a plan.

Each plant requires a different approach to thinning and shaping. With so much information online, it’s easy to do a bit of studying the night before you begin. Pruning an apple tree is quite different than pruning an apricot tree. It’s important to understand which limbs will bear fruit, or you may end up with none.

You can’t prune without the right tools. Every spring, it seems like my shears have mysteriously vanished into the black hole that is the backyard shed. Before beginning, find the tools you need, making sure they are clean, oiled, and sharpened.

As the years roll by, there are always new innovations. Last year, we invested in battery operated nippers and a chainsaw. We’re excited to use them as we shape our fruit trees. Before beginning, always have safety plans in place and remember to always wear gloves.

After finishing with leaf clean up and pruning, there are some phases you might go through if you don’t have a solid plan..

1. The Denial Pile: This is where you dump everything in a massive pile and pretend like you’ll deal with it later. We’ve always wanted to compost, why not now?

2. The Optimism Phase: You start bagging things, telling yourself, “Oh, this won’t take long!” But then you realize you’ve bagged only about a tenth of the pile, and your back feels like you just lifted an elephant.

3.The Desperation Stage: At some point, the sheer magnitude of the mess starts to overwhelm you. You contemplate calling in a professional. But then you remember… you’re a DIY enthusiast, and there’s no way you’re admitting defeat to a pile of leaves.

4. The Zen Moment: In the final stages of yard clean-up, you reach a sort of meditative state, where the rhythmic raking and bagging becomes almost hypnotic. You are one with the yard. Or maybe you’re just delirious. Either way, you’re almost done, and the end is in sight.

Finally, after hours of hard work, sweat, and a few choice words, the yard is clean. It’s pristine. It’s perfect. For about 24 hours. That’s right, my friends. Nature has an uncanny way of reminding you that it is, in fact, in charge. Within a few days, you’ll notice a stray leaf here, a branch there, and you’ll sigh. But that’s okay because you’ve triumphed. You’ve conquered the yard — for today.

We live in a world where every tweet, selfie, and motivational quote is a step toward fame (or at least a few likes on Instagram). It’s tempting, isn’t it? The sweet sound of applause. The virtual high-fives and the “You’re amazing!” floating through the air like confetti. But consider this: how much of it is real approval, and how much is just a sugar-coated distraction? Should we seek man’s applause or God’s approval?

Long ago, in another land, I was an actress at a small theater in the California foothills. How I remember being on stage under the lights while enjoying the laughter and applause of the diverse crowd. Newspaper reviews were favorable while family and friends loved the performances. Being an actress during those days at the Golden Chain Theater, the sweet sound of validation felt like a warm hug from the universe.

But here’s the plot twist: All the applause, no matter how loud, was fleeting. Like fireworks lighting up the night sky, fans evaporated leaving nothing but smoke and a faint echo of “whoa.” We burned bright for a nanosecond and then returned to our normal lives.

It was easy to get caught up in the applause. Everyone wants to feel seen and know our existence matters. The real danger lies in relying on applause as a primary source of validation. In the long run, it’s a bit like eating candy for dinner. Sure, it’s sweet, but you’ll soon be looking for something a little more sustaining.

These days, I contrast that with God’s approval which is a steady, unshakable force. God’s approval isn’t based on how many people clamor for more blogs or how many ‘followers’ read from afar. Nope, it’s not about the outer fluff; it’s about integrity, heart, and purpose behind intentions and actions.

While it feels great to wear the latest outfit or enjoy lots of zeros in a paycheck, God’s approval comes in quieter forms. It’s that sense of peace when doing something you know is right, especially when no one is watching. Or perhaps it’s the little moments of grace where you connect to something greater than yourself. No applause or confetti, but a deep satisfaction while following a personal calling.

Although there might not be a trending hashtag for “God’s Approval” any time soon, deep down, it’s a level of contentment that the loudest applause can never give you.

Here’s the thing: we’re all human. There’s nothing wrong with wanting man’s applause now and then. It’s nice to feel appreciated and to have someone say, “You did good!” But if one builds a life solely around those external cheers, they’re essentially chasing shadows. It’s like trying to fill a bucket with a hole in it—no matter how much is added, it’s never enough.

On the other hand, God’s approval? That’s the foundation. It’s like planting seeds in rich soil that grow over time, providing lasting fruit, even if it doesn’t show up in neon lights or viral tweets. The real victory comes in the form of internal peace, not just applause for good deeds from others. It’s been God’s approval that sustains us through the ups and downs.

Seeking man’s applause is like chasing after glitter in the wind. Shiny glitter is fun for a moment, but God’s approval? That’s solid gold. You might not get instant fame, but the satisfaction that comes from knowing you’re walking in truth and purpose? Now that’s the applause that will echo in your heart for a lifetime.

The next time you’re about to do or say something for “likes” or “claps,” take a moment and ask: Is this for me? Or is it for Him? Either way, make sure the applause comes from the right place.

So, I’ve survived the dreaded flu. Not the “Oh, I’ve got a cold, but I’ll soldier through” type of flu. No, this was the full-fledged, three-week, body-aching, brain-fog, fever-sweat extravaganza that made me question life choices. And let’s face it: when it dragged on that long, I embraced flexibility in every aspect of life. I’m not talking about yoga poses here. I’m talking about a flexibility that involved adjusting my expectations, schedule, and even personality (for the sake of the HHH, Oliver and Wookie).

Week 1: Denial and the “I’ll be Fine” Stage

Looking back, the first few days were a blur of fevers and chills, while I told myself, “Oh, it’s just a little virus. I’m tough. I’ll power through. It’s just a cold, right?” All the while, my body was trying to convince me that it was an unwilling participant in some sort of medieval torture while I soldiered on. I think, “I’ll keep blogging. I’ll eat meals in bed. I’ll watch the entire season of High Seas on Netflix—I can multitask, right?”

But then I realized my body had other plans. With a brain that turned to mush, the only thing I “worked” on was perfecting the art of napping. Every time I tried to do something remotely productive, I was struck with a wave of fatigue so intense, I consider changing my name to “Nap Queen.” Suddenly, blogging, church, and our Grief Share Group became a distant blur while I started focusing all my energy on convincing my body to

Just.

Keep.

Breathing.

By Day 4, HHH took me to the ER, unable to watch the suffering any longer. After enduring five long hours in the waiting room, I was diagnosed with Influenza A. I could expect up to two more weeks of sickness and then a lengthy recovery. It was a very cold and long ride home, facing the reality that this was only the beginning.

Week 2: The Flexibility Crisis

By Week 2, I’d , entered a whole new phase: The “What Is Even Happening Anymore?” phase. The first week I tried to maintain some semblance of normalcy. By the second week, I was humbled. Flexibility was no longer a nice-to-have; it became a survival tactic. Blogging? Ha! The only deadline I became concerned with was whether I’d make it out of the bathroom before my fever spiked again.

So, I got creative. I rearrange my day to accommodate my fluctuating energy levels. Did I have energy to respond to an email? Absolutely not. But I did manage send a texts to our prayer group asking for them to add my name to their growing list. I told myself, “I’ll clean the kitchen once I feel better.” But let’s be real. That kitchen didn’t get cleaned for another two weeks—and quite frankly, I was too tired to feel guilty about it.

Meanwhile, flexibility with food choices became critical. I never felt more liberated than eating nothing but Subway, soup, crackers, and popsicles for days on end. Nutrition? Who needs it when you’re in survival mode? I started to understand why people in the Old Testament just ate manna and called it a day. Simple. Uncomplicated. Flexibility is key here.

On Day 11, HHH again took me to the ER. After another chest x-ray, we were told the same information. Influenza A is a tough one. Stay hydrated. Keep flexible. Soldier on.

Week 3: Total Surrender

By the third week, I’d fully embraced the art of flexibility. My body made it clear it doesn’t answer to willpower. I could no longer pretend that I was just “a little sick.” No, I was deeply sick, like “I’ve been to the edge and back” sick. By then, I’d accepted my fate. Mastering the art of flexibility, I could stretch my willpower as thin as possible without actually doing anything productive.

I started binge-watching Netflix to the point where I could write a dissertation on obscure true crime documentaries. I got up occasionally, only to promptly lie back down in exhaustion because standing for more than five minutes was clearly overrated. Besides, it was unachievable.

By this point, I became an expert in rest. Who knew? I learned to appreciate the small victories of life: surviving the day without needing to take 3 naps, brushing my teeth without feeling like I’d run a marathon, or the joy of making it to the fridge without collapsing. Flexibility wasn’t just about physical flexibility anymore—it became about bending my expectations to accommodate the new, flu-ravaged reality.

The Final Lesson

So what’s the moral of the story, my healthy friends? It’s simple: when the flu shows up uninvited and overstays its welcome, the key to survival is flexibility. Flexibility with time, flexibility with energy levels, flexibility with expectations. It may be inconvenient, frustrating, and downright miserable at times, but flexibility is the only thing that will help you survive the three-week flu apocalypse.

HHH has my undying love and appreciation. He has his own story regarding the other side of this fiasco. Suffering through a lesser version of the same bug, he never wavered, bringing me all the Subway, tacos, and popsicles requested.

And hey, emerging from the depths of sickness, I have newfound respect for the simple pleasures of life, like breathing freely and being able to stand up without my knees buckling. Whatever you do today, stay flexible, folks. You never know what’s around the bend.

I am so happy to be back on this beautiful winter day!!! The weather here on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada has been crisp, clear, and brilliantly bright. With highs in the upper 50’s, it’s been downright spring-like, which shouldn’t be embraced. We have yet to have our share of winter but it’s surely on the way.

Today, we celebrate the beginning of new leadership. HHH and I will be celebrating many things tonight with home-cooked steak and lobster, finally enjoying the New Year’s dinner that didn’t happen. Influenza A took over as the weeks flew by. Happily, that’s in the past and it’s time to celebrate health and a bright new future.

2025 will be a year to remember. For one thing, it’s the year I’ll usher away the 6th decade of my life and welcome the 7th. My 70’s will be the most brilliant time in life because I will make it so, but not before celebrating every single day of 2025 with a marvelous sendoff.

To start the year off right (now that I’m finally well), I’ve been sorting the heirloom seeds HHH gifted me for Christmas. When sorting seeds, there are important things to remember. Some seeds need stratification in the freezer. Some seeds need darkness to germinate, while others thrive under grow lights. All seeds have specific lengths of time for germination, so it’s wise to map out your plan on a calendar. Our growing season will begin in a couple of weeks.

If starting seedlings for your garden, start with fresh, viable seeds, resisting the temptation to pull out old packets from the garage. As I learned last year, your plants are only as good as the seeds. Growing plants from seeds can be disappointing if you start with old seeds.

Along with getting my strength back, the last few days have been a wonderful time to rid the house of dust bunnies and dog hair. Nothing feels better than being healthy enough to vacuum and dust the house. For that, I would like to hire a marching band to celebrate.

Yesterday, I talked with a dear friend who is very troubled about the personality of our new president. After talking a bit, I finally had to make her laugh a little bit with the following truths.

1. You don’t need to ask the man to dinner.
2. Forget his noise. Watch for his signal (actions). That will speak volumes to a man’s ability and character. In other words, step away from the circus that follows him. Watch his cabinet get to work. Judge the results after things happen. Period.
3. Results follow actions. Only then, can we judge the presidency.

For this great country, I’m so thankful. Having lived in a communist country in 1977, I learned first-hand the horrors of communism. My ancestors fled from the nightmare of socialism. How terrifying that we came so close to losing something as precious as our customs and way of life. It’s up to us to keep our magnificent country safe, free, and great again.

Whatever you do today, celebrate dreams. Celebrate health. Celebrate happiness. Heck, just celebrate!!!!!! There is so much in life for which to be thankful. Skip the noise. Watch for the signals.

More tomorrow.

Unfortunately, I need one more week to recover.

I’ll be back next Monday.

I’ll return next Monday (1/13).

What a way to start the year!! HHH came home with a injured back. At the same moment, I developed a chest cold. We are a matched set today.

Needing a few days to regroup, I’ll plan to be back on Monday.

Happy New Year! I think……

As the year draws to a close, there’s something magical about the way life comes full circle, and tonight will be a perfect reflection of that. My husband has been out on an ice fishing trip for a few days, braving the chill and the quiet of the frozen lake while I’ve been holding down the fort at home with Oliver and Wookie. Anticipation of his return reminded me how much I cherish the moments we spend together.

Ollie and Wookie have been moping around Winterpast, deserted by their best friend. As I’ve been preparing for his return, they’re already pacing, ears perked and listening for the garage door opening . With every passing car, their excitement spikes and then they return to their anxious waiting. They knew their favorite person is on his way back.

Every time his truck pulls into the driveway, the dogs erupt in joyous barks and tail wags. Their own mini celebration right there in the laundry room. Somedays, this crazy greeting is totally annoying, but today, I’ll be there with them.

While the dogs shower him with love, I’ll be busy preparing a special dinner to mark the occasion. Our New Year’s Eve dinner will be a cozy, festive experience, filled with warmth and flavors we’ll enjoy as we welcome 2025 together.

As this year closes, I’m so grateful for the little things—the time spent in the kitchen, the dogs still circling around us, and my husband safely back home. There’s something special about making a meal for someone you love, especially when it’s a moment of celebration.

A delicious dinner and dessert will be nice, but the true sweetness of the evening is always in the simple moments we share. Whether laughing over stories from a past trip or planning for the amazing vegetables and flowers for 2025, the conversation flows easily. It’s moments like this that, when strung together, build a beautiful life.

Heading into the new year, I’m filled with gratitude and excitement. We’ve come through so much together, and I’m ready for whatever 2025 brings. The thought of spending another year by HHH’s side, with Oliver and Wookie adding their craziness, fills me with warmth and hope. Together, we’ll navigate the highs and lows of life while with each passing day, our bond grows stronger.

Here’s to new beginnings, to love, and to the comfort of home. I couldn’t think of a better way to ring in the new year than with my husband by my side and our furry friends at our feet.

Happy New Year, everyone! May it be filled with love, laughter, and cherished moments with the ones you hold dear.

Oh, where do I even begin? HHH, his four brothers, and various cousins and friends have an annual tradition. Every year, the days between Christmas and New Year’s are reserved for ice fishing. Now, when HHH says “ice fishing,” he might as well be saying, “I’m going to brave the frozen tundra for fun with my bros.” Because that’s what it is, folks—a weekend getaway from the holiday chaos and retirement, which, includes me and the dogs.

Before Christmas last year, I asked him what he needed for this “fishing excursion.” Simple: a parka that could double as a tent, boots that could withstand a blizzard, a thermal flask, a bucket of snacks, and of course, his trusty fishing rod. I made sure Christmas 2023 was packed with a few extras for the outing including an Ice Fishing Tent and a fish-finder thing-a-ma-jig. With sadness, all these things stayed in their boxes, as there was no ice last year. Hence, no ice fishing.

Through news reports, 2024 ice is a bit better.

Yesterday, he was up before the sun, giddy with delight. (If you didn’t know, ice fishing brings out a very particular kind of joy in men—a mix of smug satisfaction and childlike wonder.) He hurried around the house grabbing last-minute belongings, not forgetting anything.

HHH is an expert at packing. Having experienced this adventure for 40 years, he knew exactly what things to put in the back of the truck. Along with the gear, he fixed himself two delicious ham sandwiches and packed a suitcase full of clothes.

After dropping him off at The Mayor’s house, I returned to Winterpast—ready to enjoy some peace and quiet of my own. I’ll admit, I’m amused by the thought of five brothers and friends on the ice. The thought of “Grumpy Old Men” came to mind.

Fast forward to late in the afternoon. HHH texted me a picture of him holding the biggest bloody trout I’ve ever seen. He later called with an update. The conversation went something like this:

Me: “Wow! That’s one heck of a trophy fish! How are things going.”

HHH: “Well, it’s been tough. The fish weren’t biting today.” He then fessed up that trophy fish belonged to an angler across the way. It WAS a beauty. Heck, I’d like a picture holding that 23″ beauty (although I would have rinsed it off first).

Me: “Really? You’re out there freezing your toes off, and no fish?”

Mark: “Nope, but the ice got pretty thin when we left. We had to wade a little. A friend had water up to his chest. He’s in the shower now, trying to warm up.”

After hearing a few more “updates” throughout the day, I could tell he was bonding with the other guys over a shared love of being in the cold for no reason at all, except to say they did it. (You know, because that’s what real men do—suffer for the thrill of it in chest level ice cold water.)

With a quick turnaround, HHH will be back home to celebrate New Year’s Eve at Winterpast. As he was leaving, I promised to have dinner waiting for him. Not being a fan of fish, I really hope they don’t catch many, or better yet, catch hundreds only to let them go to be caught another day.

I’m sure he’ll have plenty to share about freezing winds and “intense survival challenges”. I hope the wolves stay far from the clam shell and the ice doesn’t melt anymore than it already has. The main goal is that everyone will return in one piece, while what happens at the icy lake stays at the icy lake.

The best part of his trips will always be the bonding time between men-folk. Our fellas need guy time. Far too many men spend hour after hour on the couch without any chance to escape. I hope he returns home tired, disheveled, and ready to put away the clamshell and fish finder for another year.

Next year? I’ll be ready to drop him off at The Mayor’s house again. Because this time, I just might plan a winter adventure of my own. Hmmmmm. A day at the spa sounds much more grand than one on a frozen lake. We’ll just see about that.

More tomorrow.