Author: Joy Hurt

Some days, you’re the windshield, someday you’re the bug. Yesterday, Oliver was definitely the bug. And, he’s lucky I coudn’t find my fly swatter.

Oliver is a most difficult dog. From the moment I brought him homesix years ago, I should’ve known. First of all, he was a discount dog, reduced more than 60%. The breeder even drove him two hours to meet me in the snow-covered parking lot of a huge casino in the biggest little city west of us.

All puppies are adorable. Oliver even more so than the average puppy. Wet from car sickness on the mountain roads, he shivered as he melted into my arms. I mean, really. How much trouble can one little twelve-pound puppy be? Especially a really cute one with green eyes.

Today, I can tell you. Oliver is the worst dog I’ve ever owned in my life. Of course, he’s also the cutest and the best cuddler. In case you’re wondering why I’ve put up with so much, it’s because he’s with us for the long haul. If you were thinking about taking him off my hands, forgetaboutit. We’ll suffer through the carnage until he’s through with this stage of life. At this rate, I predict that will take about ten more years.

HHH went overboard for Christmas. With thoughtful and sweet gifts, he went the extra mile. There were gifts for everything I love. A beautiful cross necklace. A splendid piece of furniture, well hidden in wrapping. Heirloom seeds and sprouting trays. A little of this and a lot of that.

The most unique gift is a 1,000-piece puzzle of the Majestic Princess, our last cruise ship. From shore, he snapped a picture, photographing the complete ship in all her splendor. Who would’ve known you could order a wooden puzzle from a personal photo? He did.

Beginning on Christmas evening, with both of us working, it’s taking some time. There is an expanse of blue sky, lots of ocean, and then, the ship.

When we began, we knew the canine vacuum known as Oliver hovered below the table. He’ll eat anything and everything. It doesn’t need to be food. If it smells like us, all the better. So, we’d both be on the lookout for Destructo-dog.

The first night, we both worked on the puzzle for hours, finally deciding to get some sleep and continue the next morning. In the morning, I got some coffee and went to work. Sometime between sipping coffee and separating puzzle pieces, one was knocked to the ground. Hearing a strange munching sound, it was too late. Our beautiful puzzle is now a 999-piece puzzle while Oliver is banished from the dining room.

There are days I would like to pack a little backpack and send him on his way. It wouldn’t work. He’s micro-chipped and whoever found the little beast would quickly return him.

The missing piece will be part of the story of the puzzle. Planning to decoupage it and hang it on the wall, there will be one piece of water missing. When people ask what happened, we’ll gladly tell them all about it.

Whatever you do today, avoid looking into the eyes of a sweet little discount dog on a cold winter’s day. He’ll melt your heart and you’ll lose your life to the little beast, no matter how destructive.

Oliver………….

Oy Vey.

The loveliness of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day lingers on. All things planned and unplanned went off without a hitch. As holidays go, this Christmas season has won a spot at the top. HHH and I marvel at how fast time has flown. December 15, 2024 marked our third Christmas together, beautiful in every way.

Any Christmas wouldn’t be complete without a drive around town to look at the lights. Grabbing Miss B, (HHH’s Mom), we drove through a magical wonderland of Christmas spirit. Each year, there is one special area of town in which the neighbors go all out. This year was no different except that one house in a different neighborhood was even more beautiful. Ours.

This year, HHH made Winterpast look fantastic with an assortment of lighted designs. From homemade Christmas trees to lifelike versions of Wookie and Oliver, our yard has sparkled for weeks. Of course, the Marine across the street got into the competition, along with his next door neighbors. The result was a little corner of beauty in our part of town.

Christmas Eve began with a visit to our favorite Denny’s for breakfast. With gifts in hand, we met with a distant relative who works there. We also left a gift for the manager, who keeps our restaurant beautiful at all times of the year, not only Christmas. He makes sure our Denny’s offers the best hamburgers in the area, each and every visit.

At 6 pm, we were seated in our favorite spot in church to enjoy the candlelight service. Singing all the hymns featured in the blog this month was special. It carried me back to a simpler time in the little German church in Central California. Ending the service with “Silent Night” sung in a room full of candlelight, we were told to spread our light around our town and the world. Yes. That hymn could stop a war in the night and bring two sides together.

As a shared family tradition, we came home to open one gift. We both laughed that, as children, we observed that same rule. However, back then the gift was always new pajamas. Neither HHH or I gifted PJ’s this year, just so you know.

Going to sleep, we reminisced about waking to open presents in our early days. Thinking of late nights of toy assembly and early mornings of gifting, we laughed at how times had changed. No need to be up so early

And then……..

HHH woke me at 4:15 am to open presents.

Celebrating the day with new friends from church over Honey-Baked Ham, fresh scalloped potatoes, rolls, and veggies, the day held laughter and happiness. Life is wonderful when shared with those you love! Christmas 2024 — A Total success!!!!

Whatever you do today, take a minute to write about your 2024 holiday season. Think about how the season unfolded. You might even add notes about how your life has changed this year. First, write down the top three things for which you are grateful. Focusing on the good sets a good tone. Writing is a beautiful way to sum up the details of one heck of a year.

As the festive season fills the air with joy, I wanted to take a moment to express my deepest gratitude to each one of you. Christmas is a time for reflection, for counting our blessings, and for celebrating the connections we’ve made. I am truly grateful for the incredible community of readers who have followed and supported my blog.

Your engagement, your kind words, and your shared enthusiasm have been the driving force behind everything I do here. It’s not just the views or the numbers that matter, but the conversations, the insights, and the moments of connection that we’ve shared throughout the year. Whether you’ve been with me from the beginning or you’ve just recently joined, your presence means the world to me.

My wish for all of you this holiday season is that you find joy, peace, and love in abundance. May your celebrations be filled with warmth and laughter, and may you take the time to reflect on the blessings in your own life, just as I am doing now. Here’s to more exciting adventures, stories, and shared moments in the coming year!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

With all my gratitude,

Joy

‘Twas the night before Christmas, in Winterpast at home,

Soaking in the hot tub, praying for world-wide Shalom.

Two stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

One for my husband, and one for me were there.

Oliver nestled asleep in his crate,

Wookie snoring on the bed, both dogs doing great.

Later dried, watching movies, our nest feelin’ right

We finally dozed off for restful sleep in the night

When my cell phone did rumble and ding with a clatter

From my Bestie, CC, checking on me with chatter.

Through words we shared events of the day,

Promising tomorrow a call to check in and say “Hey”.

With the stars brightly shining, true beauty shone through

The journey through grief no longer making us blue.

With sleep not appearing while we tried to relax,

The cell phone complained, our quiet now cracked.

A friend from afar, “Merry Christmas” to say

A surprise of the best kind, better than gifts on a sleigh.

“Everything now brighter, we’ll remember the good.

Sleep well, time’s healed all, as we prayed it would.”

Faith, Hope, and Love, we reflect on tonight.

Santa is great, but to these things hold on tight.

Our journey through life holds beauty, it’s true

There’s Hope for tomorrow, Love helps Faith blooms anew.

When HHh shook me to check just once more for good measure,

My husband and best friend, a man quite treasured.

Christmas tomorrow? Could he cook ham for Miss Lazy?

“Can we speak tomorrow?”

Wait….. What???????

Am I crazy?????

After a good night’s sleep, we’ll not feel so frumpy,

No time for the blues or being down in the dumpy.

Tomorrow we’ll smile and get Christmas just right

With Faith, Hope, and Love, our spirits will take flight.

Down with past sadness, self-pity, and blues.

Up with carols, treats, and friendships true.

Love to Auntie, Goddess, and Miss Firecracker, loved so

When troubled about life, to you I go.

Thanks Daughter, Alu Angel, and CC, too,

I truly love my Christmas angels, You!

Hearts smiling, we’ll enjoy a great dinner, bright.

My Mysterious Marine will season everything just right.

So Dash Away, Dash Away, Dash Away all.

Off to the grocery store, down to the mall.

Finish the wrapping with ribbons and bows,

With love for each other, happiness grows.

I send you this, My Christmas wish true,

Merry Christmas, Dear Friends, with love to you.

Thank you for finding interest in Grievinggardener while helping me get through this crazy journey called life. Your steady love, friendship, and prayers help me to grow every day. Life is the most beautiful journey of all.

Merry Christmas to you all.

Mary, did you know that your baby boy
Would one day walk on water?
Mary, did you know that your baby boy
Would save our sons and daughters?
Did you know that your baby boy
Has come to make you new;
This Child that you delivered
Will soon deliver you?

Mary, did you know that your baby boy
Will give sight to a blind man?
Mary, did you know that your baby boy
Would calm a storm with His hand?
Did you know that your baby boy
Has walked where angels trod,
And when you kiss your little baby
You’ve kissed the face of God?

The blind will see, the deaf will hear,
The dead will live again,
The lame will leap, the dumb will speak
The praises of the Lamb!

Mary, did you know that your baby boy
Is Lord all creation?
Mary, did you know that your baby boy
Will one day rule the nations?
Did you know that your baby boy
Was Heaven’s perfect Lamb,
And the sleeping Child you’re holding
Is the great, the Great I AM?

Oh, Mary, Mary, did you know?

Christmas hymns evoke deep emotions while reminding us of the reason we celebrate this special holiday. This particular song has become a holiday classic, echoing through churches, homes, and car radio stations. Its haunting melody and thought-provoking lyrics not only center on the Christmas story. We’re also invited to remember the mystery of the birth of Jesus through the eyes of His mother, Mary.

What new parents can begin to foresee all the blessings and trials their newborn will experience? Mary and Joseph had been told THIS baby’s future by angels. Most of us look forward to our little one’s first step. None of us know what it would be like to have a child that can walk on water.

With its gentle and powerful delivery, “Mary, Did You Know?” doesn’t just tell the story of Christmas—it asks us to reflect on its deeper meaning. As the lyrics unfold, we’re reminded that Jesus grew up to perform miracles, heal the sick, and eventually lay down His life for humanity.

What makes “Mary, Did You Know?” so special is its universal message. Whether you’re singing along in church, reflecting on the song during the holiday season, or simply listening on a quiet evening, the song touches something deep within. It’s a reminder that Christmas isn’t just about gifts and festivities but about recognizing the significance of that holy night in Bethlehem, when God sent His Son into the world in the most humble way imaginable. As the years have passed, each rendition of the song provides a new opportunity to reflect on faith, hope, and the love that Mary felt for her son.

In an often busy and distracted season, “Mary, Did You Know?” brings us back to the heart of Christmas. Whatever you do today, take a minute to reflect on the awe and wonder Mary and Joseph must have felt in that stable while they cradled the child who would change the world. This song not only celebrates the birth of Jesus but invites us to marvel at the divine mystery of it all.

Oy. Vey.

It’s been such a lovely little holiday around our quiet town. That is until Wednesday when the peace and quiet came to a screeching halt. With only three school days left until winter break, our town suffered a terrible blow coming from one insane 19-year-old — a double stabbing of both parents resulting in the death of one.

Wednesday began as any other day. For weeks, HHH and I had planned a day in the biggest little city to the west of us. We’d planned to visit the mall, hunt for meat at a mega grocery store, visit our jeweler friend, and enjoy lunch at Jersey Mike’s. In the evening, we’d take Miss B around town to “OOOhhh” and “Ahhhh” at the beauty of the Christmas lights around town.

Plans are great until they don’t quite work out. The largest retail store in the mall was a huge disappointment. With merchandise rumpled and thrown around, even finding a man’s shirt became impossible. It was surprising how many associates crowded around the fragrance counter, all shoving small papers drenched in cologne in my direction. Not even one smelled $100 nice, most smelling of rubbing alcohol. No wonder there’s not much dating going on with Millenials.

At the other large store the furnace and the escalator taking people to the Men’s department on the 2nd floor were broken. The elevator made strange groaning sounds as we went up. It seemed to be on the verge of breaking, as well.

Once upstairs, the men’s department was in total disarray, just like the other store. One week before Christmas at 10:30 in the morning! It’d be great to visit a clean store selling un-rumpled merchandise. At this point, I’m sticking with Amazon. At least the merchandise received is usually folded.

The rest of the morning went well, until we returned to a massive traffic jam. The school had just announced that after the day’s “lock-down”, parents could retrieve their children. There’d be no busing due to the manhunt for the 19-year-old murderer who remained on the run.

All night, helicopters searched a large open area. Periodically the killer’s phone would ping, prompting more police, drones, and dogs. As the temperature dropped into the low 20’s, there was no sign of the 6’4″ murderer. Barefoot, in red sweatpants and a dark shirt, it seemed he’d disappeared into thin air. All night, the community sat on the edge. On the police scanner, over 5,000 listened intently for updates.

A few rumors I’ve heard…

When 6, he tried to smother a friend with a pillow at a sleepover.

In 3rd grade, his favorite movie was “The Shining”. He named his dog Red Rum (turn the letters around).

Violent for years, his parents weren’t able to find appropriate help for their mentally ill child. Now, after receiving lethal stab wounds (too numerous to count) their son was running to save his own life.

Grief comes from all kinds of loss. Today, I grieve for the innocence lost at 11:00 am on Wednesday, December 17. I pray for the police, dogs, and pilots who worked tirelessly to find the killer and safely arrest him, restoring some peace to our town.

Yesterday, the hunt ended a little after 2 pm. The killer, (warming himself in a woman’s coat), was found hiding in the rafters of a local barn. Cold and spent, he was whisked away to the hospital for observation. Hopefully, he’ll never see another day of freedom in his life, the price that must be paid for his heinous actions.

Please pray for us in our little desert town. We’re small town folks reeling from the actions of a mentally-ill monster. In 2024, no one is safe from the insanity of evil-doers. Not even my dusty little town on a wide spot next to the interstate on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada.

The holiday season is full of traditions, many woven into our childhood memories. One tradition that stands out, year after year, is the beloved classic A Charlie Brown Christmas. I watched this show every year as a kid and then shared it with my own children years later. This timeless special delivers warmth, joy, and a dose of holiday spirit to all who watch it.

When A Charlie Brown Christmas first aired on December 9, 1965, no one knew it would remain relevant for decades. There’s something magical about how it captures the essence of Christmas with such simplicity. The animation is charming while the story is refreshingly simple as Charlie Brown ponders the true meaning of Christmas. His frustrations with the commercialization of the holiday are relatable in a way that only he can express.

The absence of special effects or over-the-top holiday antics are part of its enduring charm. Instead, it leans into the quiet moments of Christmas. The warmth of family, the importance of community, and, the magic of a simple Christmas tree remain the focus here.

The music of Vince Guaraldi’s iconic jazz score is a key part of the experience. The soft melody is the perfect soundtrack to a cozy winter evening. This reminds me of simpler times when the holiday was about reflection AND celebration. The heart warming music allows me to settle into the spirit of Christmas.

The soundtrack holds another memory for me. While writing with my 3rd graders so long ago, the notes of Vince’s soundtrack would play softly in the background. One little girl reported that the music helped pull the words from her brain, through her pencil and fingers, and onto the paper. Oy. Vey. How I miss those days with my room full of brilliant writers.

In a world that often feels too busy and too loud, take a moment to pause and enjoy stillness while reflecting on the simple joys of the season. Charlie Brown, Snoopy, Linus, Lucy, and the rest of the Peanuts gang show us the beauty of finding meaning in even the smallest moments. As “Christmas Time Is Here” plays in the background and the focus turns to that sad little tree adorned with a single ornament, we’re reminded that even the most imperfect things can be transformed with a little love. That’s what Christmas is all about.

So, whether you’re watching it alone with a cup of hot cocoa or with family gathered around the TV, “A Charlie Brown Christmas” is more than just a holiday special. It’s a tradition, a source of nostalgia, and a heartfelt reminder of the values that truly make this season magical.

Grief is like the wind: invisible, yet powerful. It touches every part of us, sweeping through our hearts and minds, while shaping our lives in ways we never expected. Like the wind, grief is something that can be difficult to understand, yet it’s deeply felt. It can feel wild and untamed, or soft and silent, but it moves through us in its own way, often when we least expect it.

Just as the wind doesn’t announce its arrival, grief often comes quietly, without warning. One moment, there’s a sense of normalcy, and the next, we find ourselves caught in a gust of emotion not anticipated. A gentle breeze, barely noticeable at first, it can become a storm leaving us reeling. Or it may arrive as a sudden gust, strong and fierce, knocking us off our feet and leaving us in a tearful heap.

But much like the wind, grief changes, ebbing and flowing. This shifting nature of grief makes it hard to navigate. There’s no clear timeline or guaranteed path to healing. It takes its own course, sweeping us through moments of clarity and confusion, strength and vulnerability. We don’t GET OVER grief, but move THROUGH it.

The wind also carries with it a sense of connection to something bigger than ourselves. When we feel the breeze against our skin, we are reminded that we are part of something vast—an endless sky, an open field, an expansive ocean. Similarly, grief reminds us of our connection to what we’ve lost and what we still hold dear. Just as the wind touches everything in its path, grief touches everything in our lives, sometimes leaving us with a sense of emptiness, other times helping us find strength we never knew we had.

And like the wind, grief doesn’t ask for permission. It doesn’t wait for the right moment, nor does it obey our wishes. Yet, with time, we learn to understand its rhythm. Sometimes we welcome its presence, knowing it’s part of the process. Other times, we may fight it, hoping that if we can control it, we can avoid the discomfort. No matter how we respond, the wind will continue to blow, and so will grief. It will shape us, change us, and in time, teach us to move with it, instead of against it.

There are days when the wind feels too strong, too overwhelming. The gusts of grief seem to be more than we can bear. But like the wind, grief will eventually pass. We may never forget what it has carried away, but with time, we find new ways to live with it. And just as the wind can calm and settle into a peaceful breeze, so too can our hearts find moments of stillness after the storm of grief.

It’s also important to remember that wind can be a source of renewal. After a storm has passed, the air is often clearer, the world quieter, as if everything has been reset. Grief, in its own way, has this power too. In the wake of loss, we may find new perspectives, deeper connections, and a stronger sense of what truly matters. Just as the wind can refresh the earth, grief can renew our spirits, helping us grow in ways we never anticipated.

So, as we stand in the winds of grief, we may find comfort in knowing that, like the wind, it will change. There will be days when it feels calm and still, and others when it picks up again. And through it all, we will continue to grow, adapt, and find peace in the quiet moments between the gusts. Grief, like the wind, is a natural part of life—a force that, though invisible, shapes us in ways that are both challenging and beautiful.

As a child, I attended a small German church nestled in the middle of the bread basket of the world, Central California. Today, the stately structure still stands quietly amid a crumbling country town. Since the early 1900s, it’s been the center of every major family event of the Volga German Christians living in the area. My parents, aunts and uncles, and cousins were all married there. Babies were baptized. Families said “Goodbye” to loved ones.

The bell tower was always a curiosity, yet I never braved the narrow stairs to check it out. The early community knew what each pattern of dongs meant. One set of rings meant a wedding, another signaled that church was about to begin. This wasn’t a preprogrammed AI-generated announcement, but produced by the bell-ringer who was a very real person. Before the memorial service for my 92-year-old father, the bell rang 92 times, once for each year of his life.

Upon entering the church, I remember being greeted by the warmth of the space. The air smelled of old wood and candle wax mingled with the faintest hint of pine. Simple wooden pews lined the room, their surfaces worn smooth by decades of worshippers. Stained glass windows cast colorful patterns on the stone floor, their designs depicting nativity scenes that glowed softly in the fading sunlight. The room was silent, save for the faint rustle of wind outside and the quiet hum of something timeless lingering in the air.

Each Sunday, the service started with the first delicate notes of a familiar hymn. A small choir of voices rose in unison from a corner near the altar, their melody pure and hauntingly beautiful. When the Christmas season arrived, “O Come All Ye Faithful” filled the room, each verse swelling with a reverence that seemed to transcend time. I stood still, captivated by my mother’s beautiful voice. There was something wonderful about the way the hymn echoed in the room, wrapping itself around me like a warm embrace.

Singing old hymns today stirs memories from my childhood—Christmas Eves spent with my family, sitting together in the living room as the fire crackled in the hearth. Singing Christmas carols while my mom played the piano, the words connecting us to something far greater than ourselves. In our little chapel, that sense of unity and wonder was nurtured for years assuring that beautiful traditions would never fade away.

This church was built by Volga German immigrants decades earlier, a labor of love creating a new home in a foreign land. They brought hymns, customs, and faith, weaving them into the fabric of California’s cultural landscape. “O Come, All Ye Faithful,” was a hymn that crossed oceans and centuries, just as those early settlers had. My earliest memories are of the old Germans sitting in the front row while singing the song in their native tongue. Mysterious to a little one that could barely sing the song in English.

The last time I sat with my family, I quietly sang along. My voice was unsteady at first, but soon blended with others, carried by the same unseen force that filled the room. “O come, let us adore Him,” we sang as the words floated up to touch the heavens.

When the hymn ended, the silence returned, but the church was somehow thick with peace and the lingering echoes of something eternal. Sitting in one of the pews, I let the moment settle into my heart while time seemed to stand still.

As I left the church all those Christmas’ ago, I felt a quiet sense of joy, as though I’d been given a gift. The strains of “O Come, All Ye Faithful” stay with me, a reminder that some things—faith, music, tradition—can transcend time and place. Decades later, I still think of that little German chapel nestled in the vineyards of Central California and the hymn that connected me to a world both past and present. Every Christmas, when I hear those familiar notes, I’m transported back to that sacred space, where voices blended in perfect harmony.

December 16th is a date that sits perfectly on the edge of the Christmas season, where the festive spirit is undeniable, yet the full holiday rush hasn’t entirely taken hold. It’s a special day to celebrate a birthday—a day when the warm glow of the season adds an extra layer of magic. Or, in my case, a day where I politely dodge the pressure to party like it’s 1999.

As a December 16th baby, you’re naturally part of a season steeped in nostalgia, lights, and togetherness. The Christmas tree might already be up, twinkling in the corner. There’s likely a faint scent of pine in the air and the promise of hot cocoa or mulled wine later in the day. If snow graces the ground, it’s the cherry on top, turning the birthday backdrop into something straight out of a holiday card. But let’s be real: the birthday cake is already fighting for attention against gingerbread cookies, eggnog, and Aunt Martha’s inexplicably green holiday Jell-O.

Sneaking to the computer at dark-thirty this morning, how surprised I was to find HHH has other ideas about birthdays. Right next to the key-board, (where I spend hours each morning), he had placed the sweetest card and present, just for me. One of HHH’s great qualities is his ability to make every day special, but he went the extra mile to surprise me this morning!

After sharing time with HHH, I found a thoughtful card from a person I’ve known longer than anyone in this world. Miss Song Bird had sent a lovely birthday wish. With six months time between our ages, she already entered her last year as a sexagenarian. It will be strange to begin a new decade next year. I plan to suck the life out of the 60s while I still can.

As much as I appreciate the thoughtfulness of others, I’ve never been one to enjoy celebrating my birthday. Maybe it’s the timing, so close to Christmas that it feels more like a dress rehearsal for the big day than a moment just for me. Or maybe it’s the idea of being the center of attention that gives me flashbacks to every awkward childhood “Happy Birthday” song.

Whatever the reason, today I prefer to let the day pass quietly, finding joy in the little things rather than grand gestures. Later today, HHH and I will join others for our third Griefshare meeting. It’s hard to believe it was three weeks ago that we wondered who would join us on this journey. Last week, we were six. Hopefully, we’ll gain a few more people today. If you have a program in your area, check into it.

There’s a poetic connection between a December 16th birthday and the broader themes of the season. Winter often represents a time of reflection and renewal, a pause before the new year begins. It’s an opportunity to embrace the stillness, to appreciate simplicity, and to find beauty in the little things in life. Or, you know, to binge-watch holiday rom-coms with zero shame while eating an entire cheese platter meant for four.

So, if your December 16th birthday aligns with the holiday season, let it remind you of the joys that this time offers: the warmth of home, the kindness of loved ones, and the quiet moments that often hold the most meaning. Embrace the day—or don’t. Because whether you spend it wrapped in tinsel or wrapped in a blanket, it’s uniquely yours, and that’s worth celebrating (quietly, of course).

More tomorrow