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It’s hard to believe that June is almost gone. HHH’s granddaughter, a June bride, is now a wife vacationing in Italy. Summer enters it’s second week. And, three of the wooklets will go to their fur-ever homes tomorrow. It all happened in a flash.
It seems like just yesterday I took Oliver to puppy camp. Leaving the house, I patted one very pregnant Wookie on the head. When I returned to Winterpast, there were two. And quickly 3, 4, 5, and 6, and finally, 7. They all had specific personalities from the beginning, being the most vocal litter I’ve encountered in my 68 years.
This morning, I hear the wooklets in their room, barking, growling, yelping and causing mayhem. It’s 5:42 am. They’ve already received their breakfast. It’s play time, reminding me of my own boys playing early morning games over four decades ago. Play. Argue. Yelp. Repeat. It’s the same all for puppies and little children. If things turns quiet, you have problem.
This last week has reminded me of a few things.
Don’t breathe puppy breathe. It will slay you every time.
What goes in will surely come out in a smelly mess.
Little puppies will let you know when they need something. RIGHT NOW.
Never volunteer to take care of a litter for five days unless you REALLY, REALLY, REALLY are in need of a dose of puppy breath. Then, remember #1.
Off we go over Donner Pass towards home!
This morning, HHH and I will pack our belongings into the car, call Wookie to come along, and we’ll be off. She is quite done with the littles and missing the green grass of Winterpast. Here vacation in California is over, as well as her time as a great mom.
Whatever you do this weekend, change up your schedule a bit. Go for an early morning walk. Plant something. Talk to a friend. Find your own dose of puppy breath. All things to enjoy while on the road to healing!!
When I think back to April 2020, an episode with a neighbor comes to mind. She never became a close neighbor, but remains someone who lives down the street. We’ll just leave it at that.
Very curious to meet the newest lady on the block, she had raced down when I invited her into Winterpast. This was so long ago, I hadn’t even named to my new home, but was relieved to have most things out of boxes.
As she entered, she had looked around taking note of every single decorating mistake. She finally announced that I had way too much furniture and the house was a bit “crowded”, in her humble estimation.
Shocked at her truthful evaluation, I just told her that soon, I’d move some things to my new She-Shed. Immediately, she replied, “Honey, your whole house is your She-Shed!”
I understood what she met. As a widow, I no longer had to please my husband with the placement of this or that. I did find it funny, and for a time, referred to Winterpast as my very own “She-Shed”.
Since then, I’ve created my own She-Shed in the form of one very amazing greenhouse. Perfect for me in every way. I also have a studio/office right within the walls of our home that is girly in every way possible. I’m covered in the She-Shed Department.
When HHH and I married, we decided that because I had my own space, he’d claim the space of the RV Barn, which would now become his Man Cave. Since October 2023, he has busied himself decorating the walls of his very own man cave. It’s now the home to the biggest catch of his life, his Marlin. There are golf and fishing pictures, a fireplace, and a big screen television to watch live sports. All in all it’s a wonderful retreat.
Except that…..
With all the work on the garden, work stalled in the Man Cave until last week. After enjoying a golfing trip with seventeen of his closest friends in the Sierra Nevada’s, he came home re-energized and ready to finish his space.
It did take both of us and his truck to haul away the discards, but the task is done. It looks amazing and stands ready for any type of brotherly parties he wants to throw. After all, a man that has four loving brothers needs a place to entertain them!
Everyone needs their own space. Girls need to have time for garden parties and men need time to be men and hang out in their very own caves.
Whatever you do today, assess your living space and see where YOUR sacred space lies. Are you one that needs special mementoes and pictures on the wall, or one that prefers a minimalistic approach. Widowhood does provide a time in life for personal expression through decorating. So, think about your own space and get busy!!
One more day with the little wooklets……… Maybe there’ll be time for a swim today.
There is just something fun about going to the dump. From the time I was a child, there was something mysterious about hauling away discards and taking them to a large field where they would be thrown off the truck. There, the ever-present Jawa’s rummaged through mountains of trash, looking for discarded treasures.
Worried that I was a little strange in remember trips to the dump with fondness, I asked HHH what his thoughts were on the subject. As a child, he also liked going. There were always interesting take-aways from the adventure. His dump even had a dead animal pile which does sound like something to see in a country kid kind of way.
These days, going to the Transfer Station is not nearly the adventure it could be. The inspector at the gate will let you know if you’ll be allowed to pass through with your discards. Then, you’ll be given the number of a lane and expected to quickly dump and go. Of course, at the Transfer Station, all items will be sorted and resold as scrap. Such is the way of garbage these days.
We had done our best to pack HHH’s work truck with everything that needed to go. There was a functional tool chest that no longer functioned well in the Man Cave. Along with that, there were other heavy items that were no longer things we would need or want ever again. With every bit of energy HHH could muster, all things were loaded into the truck and we were off.
When we arrived, the old generator was checked for oil and gas, both of which had been drained. It would go on the metal pile after we disposed of the other things in the large barn that kept everything from blowing all over town. We had our orders and proceeded to Lane 4.
It was then two men unloading in Lane 2 came to pay us a visit. Would we mind if they took the generator? Did it work?
Yes to both questions. Off it went.
Would we mind if they took the huge tool chest?
Yes again.
Then the other big items went sideways instead of into the large dump pit. Our entire load went home with the men of Lane Two. Just like that, one man’s trash was another’s treasure. HHH didn’t even need to strain his back another second while the items magically disappeared from our possession.
The Man Cave is a thing of beauty, all of the treasures in place. With barn door curtains installed and a little more sweeping, it’s ready for summer parties. For everything there is a time and place!! Even a 15′ Marlin.
Whatever you do today, purge a little. I use the 1/10 rule. For every 10 thing that sit around the rooms in our home, at least one could go. It gets easier each time.
As for us, it’s the beginning of day three as kennel masters. Land mines are multiplying. The puppies only woke us once last night. We’re making headway on that. Maybe today I’ll float around in the pool a little bit. Sure looks inviting!
Early morning is the very best time to take a cup of coffee and walk around the gardens of Winterpast. Of course, I’m blessed to have free range of the place, having moved here in 2020.
What Winterpast has is quieting soul. Houses have their own personalities if you have time to listen to their creaks and groans. I think she enjoys protecting HHH and me as much as we love living within her walls.
Winterpast is an unassuming place. She is white, covered by a reddish brown roof. At 1906 square feet, she’s not the biggest home, or my most elaborate. She doesn’t have views that extend for hundreds of miles like the Dun Movin’ house in Virginia City, or the Mountain House in Coarsegold, Ca. She isn’t surrounded by 17,000 grape vines as the Ranch House was.
Anyway, enough about the actually house. HHH and I far prefer living in the gardens. The first thing we both see every morning are birds, bees, roses, and loveliness. After a pretty severe dead-heading session, the roses took a bit to recover. At this point, they’re covered with buds that are ready to burst open.
Two days ago, at around 6 am, I was strolling through the vegetable garden in my robe. While walking by the zuchinni, a tiny hummingbird helicopter straight up and looked me square in the face. Not alarmed at me, he then flew sideways to get a little nectar from the Armenian Cucumber plant before buzzing off. There is so much life to be found in the garden.
Before HHH came into my life, the area now full of garden boxes and a green house was a barren patch of land covered in white rock. There had been two cottonwood trees growing there in April of 2020, but both died. Now, it looks amazing due to HHH’s redwood planter boxes made out of repurposed clear redwood decking from his former home. We’ve managed to make the most of every square inch of garden and continue to find places for more.
As summer begins, it’s wonderful to watch the hummingbirds, butterflies, and finches as they zoom around the yard. It’s our own private little three-ring-circus with all of nature performing for us. We are so blessed to live in such a beautiful place.
As for that zuchinni plant, we are now in full production. Never have I ever. Just when you pick one, three more are on the verge of becoming overripe. I will soon need some new recipes. I’m thinking of leaving a few on each neighbor’s front porch in the dark of night. They’ll never suspect, right?
Whatever you do today, think about what you could grow in your back yard. If you are already growing things, investigate how you could make everything healthier. As a beekeeper, please try to avoid spraying your plants with SEVIN. The polinators in your yard will thank you.
Just a note…… As HHH try to enjoy coffee while watch fourteen dogs, I have two bits of advice.
What a week it’s been! Only seven days ago, I was bouncing along on Amtrak headed back towards HHH. Finishing up a much needed girl’s vacation, it was pleasant to look out the window to recognize places from the past. Some had changed to be almost unrecognizable while others tugged at my heart strings. Life goes by so quickly. Kids grow up in the blink of an eye leaving retired mom’s to wish for one more goodnight kiss or wake-up hug.
Looking back on the last seven days, I realize that I’m not quite as old and used up as I might have thought. After spending many, many hours taking care of the needs of friends and family at three big events, I’m still standing. We can always do more than we think is possible.
It’s important to remember that sometimes we’re the windshield and sometimes we’re the bug. It’s called life. Gatherings come in all shapes and sizes. Some are incredibly happy and some are devastatingly sad. A Celebration of Life. A church luncheon celebrating fathers. A garden party. In three days, I enjoyed hours at those gatherings. While visiting with family and friends, I spent days laughing and crying. Life has been a whirlwind and I need to take a breath and stop for a bit.
HHH and I are planning to do just that. In case you forgot, on May 3rd, Wookie delivered her six little wookies right in the middle of our bed. In two hours, she went from one very active dog to a very loving mother of a litter. The pups are now little dogs in need of puppy sitting in California.
As the loving Wooklet-Grandparents we are, we signed up for the job and will be off to Northern California for a week long vacation. Just know we’ll be floating around in the pool, while enjoying plenty of puppy cuddles and kisses. I can’t wait for the intoxicating scent of puppy breath. Nothing else like it.
While away in California, Oliver will be enjoying his time at puppy camp. With his own set of bachelor friends, he’ll lose his mind when we bring our Wookie back next week. Never again will they be separated for such a long time for this is Wookie’s last litter.
If all goes well, I’ll pick up where I left off on Monday with lots to report about our antics in California as we take care of 20 dogs, a few cats, some chickens, and the ducks. It should provide for plenty of interesting material.
Whatever you do today, remember, that if you feel like the bug, know it won’t last forever. Just nod and smile, while considering your options. If you are riding high as the windshield, be grateful. Things can change in the blink of an eye and your buggy time is right up the road. Until then, carry on.
If you believed my Ride-Or-Die Girlfriends would arrive dressed in white gloves and Barbie-Pink pinafores shielding pressed dresses from the garden dust, you’d be wrong. We’re Desert Gals and much too practical for anything of the sort. Everyone dressed casually wearing sensible shoes of the cutest kind.
As the guests arrived, some chose to skip the house all together and head right through the back yard gate. As each woman entered, their eyes widened at the beauty within. Our back yard hides behind a Chameleon front yard of decomposed granite and a few trees. Nothing would indicate there’s a park-like setting behind the fence.
Each woman had their favorite part. Some loved the roses, others gravitated towards the bees. Many were amazed by the impressive size of HHH’s zucchini’s. But then, I’ve experienced his gardening wizardry for almost two years now, so I’m used to it!
Quickly, bags were passed around and everyone was at the cherry tree picking fruit. The apricot tree was next, while there were plenty of comments on the sweetness and huge size of the fruit. There were discussions over the potatoes and peas.
The seedlings many had seen at HHH’s birthday party in late March have grown and are blooming. Everyone was impressed by the huge plants grown from tiny seeds. Maybe no one more than me, while still marveling wonder at the beauty produced by tiny seeds. Four of my plants now form a jungle taller me, with hundreds of beefsteak, early girl, and cherry tomatoes ripening.
There were intense discussions about the amount of tomatoes on the vines. We’ve eaten four now, and it’s just mid-June. Harvest comes early when you start seedlings during the short days of winter.
My beautiful neighbors arrived right on time. Now, they understand why they haven’t seen much of HHH and me all spring. Ignoring the front yard, all effort has been behind the tall white fences of Winterpast. With summer’s arrival today, I can hardly wait for the neighborhood BBQ’s to come!
After an hour in the garden, we made our way into the house to enjoy sandwiches, chips, fruit, cookies, and ice cream sandwiches. New friendships formed as we visited. All the while, Oliver watched for soft hearted souls that slipped him little treats of food. The party was a grand success!!
To everyone that was there, please know this. You are the true flowers in the garden of my life. You’ve been there to support me through some very hard times. You’ve also been the first to cheer at the miracle of a love HHH and I have found at this late stage in life. Thank you for your support, listening ear, good advice, laughter, smiles, and love. For you, I’m grateful and blessed. Thank YOU for making the party everything I hoped it’d be.
Whatever you do today, think about having a get together with YOUR very best Ride-Or-Dies. It can be as simple as an afternoon set aside to sip a new coffee or discuss a book. There’s nothing as special as an invitation into someone else’s home. Remember, a friend is the best thing you can be and someone you can’t live without.
As I look out on the park that is our beloved Winterpast, her beauty brings tears to my eyes. HHH has done everything humanly possible to bring her back to life. From planting roses with a pick ax to carefully observing Miracle Grow Monday’s and Super-Thrive Saturdays, the fruit of our labor is here to enjoy all summer long.
Five springs ago, I became a widow with a new house. It wasn’t supposed to be that way, but cancer broke apart the best laid plans. Moving in 17 days after death knocked on the door, I didn’t know if it would be possible for me to continue. 1/2 acre of intense gardening was staring me in the face. Broken sprinkler pipes and lost emitters forced me to venture into the garden and begin.
And so, I started gardening while I finished moving in. I unpacked boxes. I purged physically and mentally. I tried new things like dating. I began to live my very own life and haven’t slowed down since. The transformation into a new life came through Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior. Of course, there was also a lot of very hard work. If you are on the path of widowhood, you understand. If you haven’t experienced it, I hope you never do.
Throughout the last five springs, I carefully planted seeds of friendships throughout my little town. In about 30 minutes, they will arrive to enjoy the garden at our 1st Annual Spring-Fling Girl-Only Garden party. Just add food and laughter and you have a party. I love each and every one of them as the sisters they’ve become.
The grocery deli didn’t let me down with the most beautiful meat, cheese, and fruit platters I could have imagined. The produce manager personally selected the fruit, even including a Picasso Melon. (If you haven’t tried one, you must.) With chips, fresh cherries, and ice cream sandwiches for desert, no one should go away hungry.
When I think of the lonely widow of 2020, the changes are shocking. I prayed for friends, Jesus took the wheel and I met them at a Bible Study. The neighborhood has provided the best neighbors I could imagine. Miss Carson City has become such a sweet friend having known our home long before I came along for Winterpast previously belonged to her parents.
I’m so thankful for this lovely home that has cocooned me when I didn’t know how I could continue to breathe. She will forever keep all the secrets of one newly single woman and her crazy dog. She will also keep the confidence of a happily married newlywed couple as HHH and I find our way on our own path.
In a few minutes they’ll arrive. Around 20 of my Ride-Or-Dies. Those that couldn’t make it are here in spirit, missing the party because of prior commitments or distance.
It wasn’t just luck that brought me this far. I’m no more deserving of the blessings I’ve received since April 8, 2020 than the next widow. I’m just a 68-year-old bride having the time of her life while writing the next chapter with my groom.
Grief hits like a car crash and cuts like a knife. There is nothing to be done but to put one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward. Journal along the way. As springs pass, one after the next, you’ll soon be amazed at how far you’ve come.
The Zephyr winds of the desert carry many things with them. So long ago, they carried away the ashes of my late husband. As they ripped across the desert, as they do so often, the roar on that lonely mountain top silenced my wails. Widow’s grief. Widow’s fog. Widowhood. The worst. The only kind of grief I know is the one unique to me. I’m the first to say I couldn’t imagine the depth of your own loss, because I’m still trying to figure out the depth of mine.
There’s another type of grief I’ve been witnessing since May 12th. The loss of the adult child of my Harvest Sister. She’s everything you find in a bountiful harvest of life. Smart. Beautiful. Witty. Charming. Wise. Brilliance packed in a mother. A mentor. A helper. And now, a grieving mom.
Life doesn’t make sense sometimes. Why does one parent enjoy 70-year-old grown children and another lose their 24-year-old-son? Without the “Why” answered, my sweet friend has her faith and family to help her regroup and take her next steps. For now, she’s just practicing breathing in and out, taking things one minute at a time.
She wasn’t the kind of mom that meddled or helicoptered. She was the kind of mom that rode the rollercoaster of life WITH her child while allowing him to grow up to be a special man. She was and will be forever more HIS mom and so proud that he was HER son. Two peas in a pod.
In the last month, I’ve gotten to know learn a lot about him. In 24 years, he lived more than most do in a lifetime, all thanks to his parents love and support. She was there to wish him well as he left to travel Europe. She hugged him close as they were surrounded by hula dancers in Hawaii. Every picture of them showed their connection. That love that only a mom and child share. After all, we grew our children right next to our hearts.
In preschool, under her watchful eye, he found his one true love. A woman that would remain his best friend for 20 years. He married this girl at 5, only to divorce her in 2nd Grade, but the friendship remained true. They held each others secrets for 20 years, each other’s Ride-Or-Die until he did.
WE honored his life last Saturday. Before the memorial service, a young woman dressed in a black sundress entered the church. Holding a beautiful vase of flowers, she was having a hard time with her tears. She kept assuring her girlfriend that she was fine although it was obvious she was anything but as she stood at the memorial tribute in the back.
As the appointed greeter, I lost track of her until she was in front of me, talking to the town’s florist.
“He was quite a young man. How did you know him.”
Our eyes met briefly. Before she could answer, all I could say was, “I already know.” Because, for some strange reason, I did. Never having met, I knew she lived in Las Vegas and was the most important woman in HIS life. His mom had already shared their story in bible study. The strangest thing was, I was correct and immediately, we hugged and cried.
Lovely doesn’t even begin to explain this young woman. During the service, she had the courage to speak to over 100 guests about her young marriage and lifelong friendship. While full of grief, she shared just a glimpse into the kind of rare relationship that makes life beautiful. Through her and the other events of the day, I left feeling close to this young man that left our world far too young.
Death. None of us will escape. Although we would hope everyone will follow the “proper and expected” order, some slip in line sooner than we can accept.
Grief. A nasty journey for anyone. Not something we can navigate for the person traveling through it. Sometimes, words get in the way. Just listen. Give Space. Hold a hand. Give a hug. Take phone calls at 2 AM. Repeat as many times as humanly possible.
I met a young man last week. An extraordinary young man. Someone that lived many lifetimes in one. A man who rocked soft eyes and an awesome beard. I met a young man created and loved by my friend and her husband. I’m so glad I had that chance.
Sometimes finding just the right garden addition takes patience and trial and error. With the gardens of Winterpast marching towards full bloom, HHH and I decided we needed a new fountain. After an unsuccessful attempt to convert the old fountain to solar, we were both ready for something new.
Off we went to the hardware store after doing some research to find they did sell fountains. Now, if I were in charge of marketing, I’d make sure the fountains were front and center at the beginning of the year. Not our store.
The fountains were tucked away on the highest shelves, accessible to customers only by forklift. After asking several associates, we finally found them on the back aisle in the garden section. There sat the three tier fountain pictured above, beautiful in every way except one. Solar? No.
Sitting on the same shelf was a fountain of another style. The same height, this fountain was rock-like, with man-made moss “growing” on the front. Having LED lighting, it caught our eye. Something so different might just be great for Winterpast. So, we took it home.
After taking it out of the box and trying it, it was obvious it was wrong for Winterpast. What were we thinking buying something with fake mold????? Really???? A shared Senior Moment.
Boxed up, we returned it to Lowe’s. In the mean time, HHH found a SOLAR fountain online. Although almost twice the cost, it was already solar complete with a battery back-up. Our fountain could run day or night, powered by the sun!! It even came with LED lighting. Completing the Amazon order, we waited three days until the huge box arrived.
Cheap doesn’t even begin to cover it. A huge returnable disappointment sat in the back yard. Thin resin, the minute a Zephyr wind roared through, it would blow over and crack. Nope. It wouldn’t do. We boxed it up and returned it to Amazon.
It was obvious that we had the right idea in the beginning. The beautiful fountain on the top shelf of the hardware store’s garden center was the one. HHH destroyed the box as soon as he could to be sure there were no more heavy returns.
Luckily, this fountain is everything we wanted, except that it’s not solar. We can deal with that. It has soft LED lights that glow in the evening. With three large bowls, our finches are coming in for regular drinks and baths. The sound of falling water is soothing as we sit and enjoy Winterpast every evening after dinner. We finally found the right one. We just had to try a few other options first.
Whatever you do today, Don’t Settle. Make choices that fit you. If it means a few returns, then return you will. When you find just the right choice, you’ll know.
To my readers —
Girls just want to have fun, so I’m off on a spring fling. June is packed full of adventure. I’ll return June 18th to tell you all about it. As always, enjoy the archives until I return.
