Author: Joy Hurt

A sixteen-day cruise, including three formal nights, requires strategic packing. In our case, it began a month before embarkation. The week before traveling, the suitcases were weighed many times. Three would provide plenty of space for necessities and souvenirs. With three days dedicated to laundry during our trip, laundry rotations work out just right. After all, we were taking 150 pounds of clothing and necessities. But even the best cruisers can’t outpack time.

The first laundry day was planned for the sixth day of the cruise, off the coast between Puerto Vallarta and Guatemala. By then, the two garbage bags I’d brought from home were fully separated into whites and colors. All systems were go, as I lugged the bags 1/2 of the length of the ship to the aft.

Cruise ship laundry rooms are very busy places. You just never know, after walking a football field carrying two bags of laundry, if you’ll find an open washer. It’s a crap shoot, so, I started early. Arriving promptly when open at 8 am, I found two empty washers. Score!

On our last cruise, the use of the washer, dryer, and detergent were free, a lovely situation. A bigger ship, there were 8 sets of washers and dryers. This ship was a little different. Five brand new Samsung dryers sat atop their washing partners. It was a great sign that they all worked. The token dispenser was another story. After a bit, I left two washing machines working, as the line continued to form out the door. $8 lighter, I’d be back in 27 minutes.

If you happen to be leaving on a cruise of your own, I have a suggestion. Pack the new sheets of detergent/softener. They may not work the best, but they beat the boxed powder sold by the cruise lines. I felt as if I was in a 1960’s commercial for laundry soap.

My second suggestion is this. Make NO eye contact with anyone in the laundry room. Don’t start any happy little discussions, because there will be someone there to ruin your moment of blissful domesticity. Some seasoned wench will bully the sweet 70-year-old who uses TWO machines at one time, considered a breach of laundry etiquette. (No one told me.) These people, usually women of a certain age, revel in their absolute and unspoken authority. Their word is law.

During our cruise, I’d experience the laundry room two more times. I learned that IF there is a chair when you enter this tiny little laundromat, sit in it. It won’t be there for more than a few minutes, so claim it. Sitting claims your machines, while standing invites chaos and help from strangers. It also allows time for premium people-watching and lesson-learning.

While watching, I discovered that people waste tons of time and energy by leaving their clothes in the dryer far longer than needed. After waiting 20 minutes for a dryer, the timer was down to minutes. The owner of the four items in the dryer returned. It was obvious this load had been dry for the previous 20 minutes, but no. She waited until the timer marched on to zero. DING (dong). Tip — Check your laundry partway through–they may dry earlier than the scheduled time.

Hours later, warm, clean clothes felt like a major win with a sense of accomplishment. Even after breaking the two-machine rule, everyone still smiled and wished me well as I left with my bags of fluffies.

Life on a cruise is magical in so many ways. But, laundry happens, even to the most seasoned passenger. And, just like every Friday morning, mine awaits today. Have a great weekend. I’ll be back on Monday with more stories from the high seas.

During our travels, the biggest adventures of all belonged to me. Tropical bird songs and filtered sunlight replaced candles and a pink birthday cake. That day unfolded as planned months ago when I first decided to spend the day with sloths. Damp earth, rustling leaves, and the quiet of a sloth sanctuary welcomed me into my 7th decade. Never having made a real birthday wish for myself, I did this year, creating a milestone, not just a footnote.

Costa Rica must be the place God goes to relax.

In my experience, this country is one of the most beautiful places on earth. We spent my birthday morning at the Costa Rica Animal Rescue Center, dedicated to the rehabilitation and release of Costa Rica’s endangered wildlife.  The stars of the show were the baby sloths, but there were plenty of supporting actors.

One of the first things I noticed upon our arrival was that this very old place was extremely clean. Without the smells you might find at any normal zoo, the caregivers moved with calm and gentle motions. There would be NO SELFIES with the animals. Every animal there had already suffered enough at the hands of men. In their opinion, selfies only promoted the human urge to possess these creatures. NO SELFIES with the animals. Period. With that, it was clear that snuggling with the babies wouldn’t happen. Watching would be enough.

With that we met some residents. Of course, the two that melted our hearts were the babies. Electrocution is one of the biggest causes of death in sloths. The two orphans are now raised by their human Sloth Mother. Having worked with these tiny creatures for 30 years, she watched over her littles who were wrapped in blankets. Sloths don’t like to be touched. It stresses them out.

There were five adults hanging around. Sloths only defecate once a week, climbing down the tree to bury their scat. Then, it’s the slow journey back up the tree to safety.

Enclosures held monkeys rescued from the evils of man. One belonged to a cartel, where he learned to drink, smoke, and consume cocaine. A very muscular and busy animal, we were told he was the most dangerous in the compound, which escapes now and then. Another monkey spent years in chains. When she arrived, it took her six months to stop carrying a piece of chain with her, although it had been removed. Oh, the bottomless pit of evil in humans.

Watching the care giver made me think about Jesus and his care for the least among us. Those of us that have the strength, resources, and time are called upon to help the overlooked, harmed, or forgotten in ways we can.

After our tour, the hosts offered us snacks from the rainforest. Juice, pineapple, and other fruits were served under a canopy to protect us from random raindrops. Magic in the middle of the wilds of Costa Rica, just as I’d dreamed for months.

The two hours we spent wandering, looking, and listening are imprinted on my heart. I’m so grateful for seventy years of learning, loving, and becoming. Growing up on a farm taught me everything I needed to know before I struck out on my own. Returning to an animal sanctuary, I stepped into a decade guided by wonder, awe, compassion, and faith. This decade won’t be defined by speed or spectacle, but with curiosity and presence. This decade will be intentional.

More tomorrow.

Our adventures in December surpassed anything we dreamed when choosing to visit a very old coffee plantation in Antigua. On a full-day tour, we hoped to see a bit of the REAL Guatemala. What that would include, we couldn’t imagine. By day’s end, we sailed away with memories of a most mysterious place.

The first four days of our cruise were sea days. Now, there are those who long for exotic ports of call. For HHH and me, the sea days are why we cruise. Hours and hours of changing seascapes and skies, while traveling about 20 miles an hour. There are those who find the thought terrifying. It could be nothing further from the truth, from mornings with fun activities to the evening when the lullaby of the crashing waves through an open balcony window soothed us to sleep. We’re “Sea Day” people.

With a stop in Puerto Vallarta for a day of sailing in the Bay of Banderas. we enjoyed one more sea day before disembarking for a land excursion. Carefully protected, we walked through trinket shops at the dock to our awaiting bus and tour guide. All eyes were on the tourists, keeping us safe from harm.

Throughout the day, volcanoes, history, and nature surrounded us. Along the way, one of the distant volcanoes began erupting. Starting with a tiny puff, there was soon an entire plume. As the tour guide continued talking, it seemed we were driving towards certain disaster. Later, we learned the volcano does this several times a day in pretty dramatic fashion.

It’s this volcanic ash that makes Antigua the perfect place to grow coffee. Upon arriving at the historic coffee farm, the cleanliness made a statement. Pristine and elegant, we soon learned about this very old plantation, filled with pride and professionals.

Coffee beans are called cherries when ripe. Our guide handed each one of us a red “cherry” and asked us to squeeze it. A clear juice came out of the tip. He then asked us to taste the juice. To my surprise, it was deliciously sweet. After breaking the bean apart, the pulp is made into jelly, while the bean is roasted for coffee. The parchment is turned into cattle feed. All of this happens in a circle of erupting volcanoes, as it has for decades.

The tour was fascinating. The tiny plantation, filled with ancient machines, is operated by men who’ve worked there for decades. It was obvious that growing coffee takes care and patience, which is true with any farming.

After a Guatemalan lunch served on a veranda that overlooked the plantation, we loaded into smaller buses for a short ride into Antigua. “Cobblestones” make up every street in the town, which are actually hunks of volcanic rock. Do Not Fall on these uneven and jagged streets. On that particular Sunday afternoon, families were enjoying time in the town square under lovely trees shading the area. Conversations and laughter replaced a noticeable lack of cellphones. So beautiful to experience that once again.

We ended the tour with a visit to a Jade factory. To our surprise, we learned that rocks containing jade rings like metal when hit with a hammer.

Before leaving, I’d bought a wallet, bamboo flute, small drum, and cobalt-blue scarf that HHH insisted I must have. Throughout our visit, the locals celebrated the Day of Bread. Vendors selling every size and shape of bread you could imagine filled the streets. Funny. A Day of Bread would be a delightful thing to celebrate here in the States.

Returning to the ship by 5, we sat on our balcony while watching the last of our shipmates race to the gangway before we sailed away.

Although I’ll probably never return to Finca Filadelfia for a stay, the beauty of that plantation will stay with me forever. Just a very old coffee plantation nestled in the rain forest under the watch of beautiful volcanoes that blow once in awhile.

More tomorrow.

After such an amazing start to our adventures, things only got better. With a month of great memories to share, I need to skip to the end. My conversations with God continued across one country after another, until it was time to board another plane for home.

If you haven’t flown in a while, let me warn you. Everything has changed. These days, it’s quite normal to see dogs of all types and sizes wandering the concourse. No longer in tiny little handbags waiting to be snuck on the plane, these are out-in-the-open, barking, squirming, happy dogs traveling with their anxious owners. Along with people who don’t understand what can and can’t fit under their seats, these dogs are everywhere.

To accommodate these dogs, the airlines have installed bathrooms for these pets. Our own airport did a cute design with its own fire hydrant and fake lawn. I wish I were making this up, but it’s true. The dogs have their own restrooms. therefore avoiding accidents. Each day, hundreds of happy canines serve humanity across the friendly skies.

For hours as we waited for our plane, HHH and I were pretty grumpy about the situation. Really? Thinking of our own two fur babies at home, we focused on the obvious. What about the noise, mess, and unpredictability? Safety issues? Personal space? We found hundreds of reasons to say, “Not on my plane.” And, I will admit, that was included in my conversations with Him. “Please, not today, God.”

Six long hours later, our boarding time arrived. After praying for angels to surround our plane, we took our places in two aisle seats in the back of the plane. In this plane, the seats were six across, so I had two unknowns. And, surprisingly, with the door was almost ready to close on a sold out plane, they remained empty.

Until.

Oy.

Vey.

Three beings came to join me. Two smallish humans and their Pit Bull/Aussie cross. Green-eyed, brown-nosed, just like someone else I know. THREE in a space meant for 1.5. Why did it have to be a Pit Bull anything????? Avoiding eye contact, I stood for them to enter.

Immediately, the canine moved the tiny bit to the left. With one word, the beast was at attention and sitting in the correct place between his owner’s legs. It behaved in a way that showed hours of training. And, of course, there was a very large, shock collar around its neck.

HHH gave me a few superior glances, as he had scored the great seat without Pit Bull involvement. And with that, we took off.

After about 15 minutes, everyone in row 29 had relaxed. It was then that I felt the softest sniff at my ankle. Just a little breathy “Hello”. I smiled, hoping it wasn’t the sniff before a bite. And then it happened. This soft, sweet, lovely dog draped his wonderfully comforting head across my foot, fully encroaching into my foot space. That was all it took.

We snuggled for the rest of the flight, he and I. I realized how much I missed Ollie and Tanner while experiencing the comfort of a dog snuggle. This sweet animal became my service dog for a time without ever receiving a pat on the head. He became another angel in our travel stories, and an unexpected source of grounding meant just for me. One I didn’t realize how much I needed after a very long trip.

God does have quite the sense of humor, eh? Delivering an angel in the form of a green-eyed, Pit Bull/Aussie cross, no less. What started out as an inconvenience turned into a connection.

As it turns out, there were at least two dogs on our plane. The other was a very large lab that we never saw or heard from until we left the plane. A veteran’s service dog that made everyone smile at baggage claim.

Bottom line, grace doesn’t always look holy. Angels come in all shapes and sizes. And, sometimes, their comfort comes with furry warmth draped over the feet of a newly-70 year old woman. This is going to be the best decade ever!!!!

More tomorrow.

It seems like a lifetime ago that HHH and I lifted off on our biggest adventure. We spent most of December on an extensive cruise through five exotic countries we’d only read about, all new to us. But, before we could sail under the Golden Gate, we’d need to fly over the snow-covered Sierra Nevada mountains to San Francisco..

At 4 am, Mr. and Mrs. Lovebird delivered us to an early morning airport scene full of whispered conversations and the clickity-clack of heaving suitcases. Checking in for a flight is different these days, involving computerized kiosks. Upon arrival, we found not one, but two airport angels waiting to help us navigate this new way of travel. Automated to the max, after scanning our phones, we received baggage tags and boarding passes. Everything was so efficient, we were seated at our gate just 20 minutes after our arrival.

During the two-hour wait, I had a quiet conversation with God. Now, let me make this very clear. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE to fly. Having taken my first flight when I was just 11, it’s the most exciting thing anyone can do. I love every aspect of each flight from beginning to end. But, on every flight, I ask God to surround the airplane with angels. This flight was no different.

Angels. Such an interesting group. They certainly surround us at all times. Who knows? They might pose as a fellow passenger, flight attendant, or stranger. Those small acts of kindness, passing smiles, help with a bag, or calming words that appear at just the right time. It’s hard to tell which ones are human goodness or real angels. I choose to believe it’s a mix of both.

For the flight, HHH and I chose opposing aisle seats. No middleman, just great access to the bathroom and full control of at least one armrest. On the last row of a very small plane, 29B and 29C were in a four-seat row. Expecting a full flight, we’d wait to see just who’d be sitting in 29A and 29D.

My seat remained empty until moments before the door closed. It was then that a lovely young woman asked if she could slip by me. 29A beautiful, but a bit frazzled. She hadn’t flown in 25 years, and things had changed, including the size of the seats. Fiddling with her purse, I learned she was visiting a daughter in Nashville. After that, we both retreated into our own thoughts, mine involving a continued conversation with God about the issue of angels.

29A was a true window gal. She watched every cloud blow by, taking pictures along the short flight while holding her breath during minor turbulence. While in flight, I experienced a quiet sense of peace. We weren’t traveling alone. I could feel it.

And then, we both saw the same thing at the very same time. Outside our window was a “rainbow orb”. It’s the only way I can describe it. Suspended outside the window, it was completely spherical. Not exceptionally large or small, it appeared to be traveling with us.

Before I could even process what I was seeing, she had her phone out, capturing it on video. I asked if I was seeing things. She assured me I wasn’t. Neither of us had ever seen such a thing. The difference was that SHE captured it on video, which she replayed a few minutes later.

It was then she laughed and said she’d asked God to surround the plane with angels. I gasped and told her I had sent the same prayer in exactly the same words. Our eyes met, and we both broke into spontaneous laughter.

After the laughter calmed, a sisterhood had formed. I asked if she would send me the video.

Hmmmmm. She couldn’t find the link.

Wait. WHAT?????? She showed it to me again, but couldn’t find the link. At this point, we were on the ground, and headed for the gate. She allowed me to photograph her Instagram account. (I didn’t write it down, but photographed it.) As the plane came to a stop, we both said “God is Great” at exactly the same time. As our flight ended, more laughter erupted from the back of the plane.

Just like that, a friendship formed. Wheels touched down, bags were grabbed, and our adventure continued. Something inside felt gently changed. I’d seen something unexplainable, and met someone very, very special.

With bags in hand, our adventure began. And what an adventure I have to share with you….

Oh—-BTW—I did look up the Instagram account of 29A. No such person or account could be found, even though I’d photographed her account page. As for rainbow orbs? It could have been an optical illusion. However, it could also be the angel escort requested by the back of the plane. I know what I’m choosing to believe……Just sayin’.

More tomorrow.

The calendar is winding down again, marking not just the end of another year but the gentle end to my sixth decade on this earth. Sixty-something years of laughter, loss, joy, grit, adventure, and the kind of wonder that sneaks up on you when you least expect it. As I sit here on the high-desert plains of Northwestern Nevada, watching Winterpast settle into the winter hush, I can’t help but smile at how fast 60 years have flown.

This year was stitched together with big adventures that will fill scrapbooks and memory boxes. Road trips across wide-open Western skies. Moments of belly-laugh humor with HHH that reminded me why this chapter of life is so sweet. Days spent in gardens, at church, with family, with dogs who think they’re human, and in places where peace hangs in the air like morning mist.

It was a year of long drives, quiet mornings, bright sunsets, and the surprising delight of finding blessings in unexpected corners, sometimes even under the washing machine. A year of celebrating anniversaries, tending to the land we love, and being part of a community.

But now, as December is about to wrap around us like a wool blanket, something in me feels different. Closing this year, I’m moving into the unexplored territory of a new decade of life.

I’m not sure if it’s bravery or simply the gift of aging gracefully, but there’s a tug inside whispering the next decade will be the grandest adventure yet. Not in a loud, dramatic sense, but in the quiet confidence of knowing who I am, where I belong, and what really matters.

It’s impossible to map out every journey (heaven knows the detours are the best parts anyway), but I’m stepping into this next season with an open heart. With HHH by my side, Oliver and Tanner always ready to create mischief, and the big, blue Nevada sky above me, I’m ready to face whatever comes. So here’s to closing my sixth decade with gratitude.

Here’s to the unexplored.
Here’s to the adventures still out there waiting.
Here’s to trusting that the best chapters aren’t behind us, but the ones still being written.

I’m taking the last month of the year for our own private celebration. I’ll be back January 5th with stories about our amazing adventure. From Winterpast to you, may your next steps be bold, your blessings abundant, and your heart wide open.

Happy Holidays — Joy

In the hush before sunrise, with the house still and deep,
HHH slips into the kitchen from a night’s gentle sleep.
The coffee pot hums, like a drowsy drum—
The morning whispers, “Thanksgiving’s finally come.”

The rhythm starts with footsteps soft, a shuffle on the floor,
A cupboard’s creak, pots and pans, the spatula encore.
The oven warms like sunshine, glowing gold behind glass,
And the chef starts his dance as minutes slowly pass.

The turkey waits, majestic, chilled, and grand,
While the pie smells of spices from a far-off autumn land.
The mixing bowl whirls at a clink-clink-clink beat,
The counters host a festival of flavors rich and sweet.

Outside, the high desert morning lifts its frosty, pearly veil,
A whisper of the season riding on a cooling tail.
Inside, the day is warming as the scents begin to rise—
A rhythm built of gratitude beneath the waking skies.

Soon laughter will be heard over steamy coffee brewed,
But now it’s peace and promise, just a moment made for two.
For in these early quiet hours, with every swirl and stir,
Thanksgiving plays its opening song with God as our conductor.

This morning is the beginning of a lovely day! HHH and I discovered on our very first date that we prepared our holiday turkeys exactly the same. It’s got to be in the oven bag. Along with the same preference for stuffing, not dressing, and all the sides, today, we’ll create a perfect dinner for two.

However you celebrate today, remember to be thankful for all the beauty in the world. Call friends you haven’t heard from in a while. Eat too much and laugh even more! This is the most beautiful time of year. Enjoy!!!!!

I’ll be back tomorrow.

Happy Thanksgiving!!

So many beautiful people have come together to create tapestry of friendships in 2025. Some old friends and some new, came together through service and the gentle rhythms of community life. Our church has blessed us with treasured friends as each one of us share our own special gifts.

Last spring, while bringing the church gardens and lawn back to life, we met a lovely gentleman who lives across the street. Born in an island country across the Pacific, life brought him to our desert town. With the biggest smile, through broken English, we’ve shared a few minutes under the warm spring sunshine. Friendships start with a “Hello” and sometimes continue with broken English and a smile.

We found a home for “Lucky Duck” later in the year. When we found her lost and alone, baking in the summer sun, something had to be done. HHH brought relief with the hose, giving her a place to cool off. A stylist from the cute little Salon across the street came later in the day to retrieve her. “LD” is enjoying her spot with the flock to this day, while I now enjoy great haircuts from the salon.

During breakfast fests on mornings before church, we’ve gotten to know more about each person that comes to share a bite before worship. From Sweet Bernie (90+), who bakes for us every week, to the youngest of us who is just “FOE” (translated — 4), we’re family throughout the week, not just on Sunday.

Thursday Bible Study, with its popcorn and cookies, continues to be one of my favorite gatherings. The seasoned scholars with their well-loved Bibles sitting next to the newcomer Bibles with their crisp, unmarked pages. The questions lead us on many adventures through the land Jesus walked with his apostles. Laughter fills the room like sunshine while friendships deepen with each verse. It’s a weekly reminder that faith grows best in circles.

Grief Share brought healing to those of us who needed space to breathe and speak. The meditation garden, with its roses, chimes, and sacred quiet , is a refuge for more people than we ever expected. The simple act of maintaining it while pulling weeds, rearranging stones, and trimming back stubborn branches feels holy in its own way.

Then, there are the neighbors of Winterpast, always providing a wave and a smile. We have plenty of time to visit and a yard of leaves to chase. All this as we wait for the great reveal of the neighbor’s 2025 Christmas light display, which will be grand.

During our travels on the high seas, we learned that travelers bring their Bibles as well as their formal wear. How lucky to find out that each voyage includes daily Bible studies held in the chapel.

This year has shown us we’re not meant to walk alone. When we give our time, hands, and listening ears, we gain more than we give. For all of these things, we give Thanks!!!

There’s one thing that HHH and I agree on. Long miles across the North American continent have nourished our souls and marriage. In 2025, we’ve enjoyed adventures through life by land, sea, and air.

Travel season begins each year with a traditional visit to the Central Coast of California. Of all the trips, traveling by car through California requires the most stamina due to heavy traffic and the sheer number of miles covered in one day. A 10-hour ordeal each way, twice we travel the same path as the Donner Party took in 1846. Thank goodness for heated seats and a turbo engine.

Once there, it’s been our pleasure to spend time with the best Godmother in the entire world, as well as a true Coastal Goddess. There must be magic in the ocean air that keeps these two women in tip-top shape. With trips to one of the only TRUE castles in the United States, as well as time at the beach, late winter is the best time to enjoy California sunshine.

In March, we chose the high seas, switching to a voyage on the Discovery Princess. Our favorite so far, we were both impressed by what a grand ship she is. If one doesn’t have a good time aboard this ship, one doesn’t know how to have fun. Cabo San Lucas and Puerto Vallarta will never be the same after HHH’s birthday celebration.

After a long summer, including caring for lawns and gardens, we hopped on the Discovery Princess again, this time heading north to Alaska. Drama on the high seas changed the itinerary, but it didn’t matter. Nothing is as special as dreaming at sea while serenaded by the waves. Alaska didn’t disappoint.

Autumn clean-up was followed by the wedding of the Love Birds, and then, we were off by land to celebrate our own anniversary. Dressed in autumn colors, Yellowstone greeted us with her grand skies, sometimes moody, sometimes glorious. The buffalo couldn’t care less about our schedule, while the waterfalls put on their dance just for us. Little towns along the way gifted us with memories we didn’t plan but now cherish.

Travel felt different this year. Softer. More appreciated. Maybe because the world is still shaking off old worries, or maybe because sitting beside HHH on those long highways and cruises feels like being wrapped in safety and hope at the same time.

Before the close of 2025, there’s one more adventure that will consume most of December. For the latest news on that, you’ll need to tune in next year.

We’ve laughed, enjoyed great food, and seen wonders that reminded us how big and beautiful this earth is. Every evening, we agree that adventures are best when taken with the person you love the most. When you’re lucky enough to have that person by your side, you are lucky enough! More tomorrow.

As November settles softly over the high-desert plains, I find myself looking back on a year stitched together with quiet blessings. Not the big fireworks moments, although we had a few of those, but the soft, everyday goodness that fills the spaces of life here at Winterpast.

The start of 2025 was a bit rocky as I battled Influenza A. Hoping not to have a repeat performance of that this year, I was so lucky to have HHH by my side during three weeks of fevers, incessant coughing, and mounds of cold medicine. I’ve always said January was one of the two months that could be scrapped, but, in 2026, I hope to enjoy every minute, taking nothing for granted.

February and March were months for tending to seedlings that would become squirrel salad in April. This winter, our selection of garden plants will be limited to less tasty varieties.

I think of the crab-apple tree and her stunning performance in May, her pink tulle dress catching every breeze like she was flirting with the whole neighborhood. The apricot blossoms promised a fruitful summer as the bees hummed happily until their sad farewell later in the season.

With trips to California, Mexico, Alaska, and Yellowstone, our minds were blown with the beauty of our world. From Hearst Castle on that enchanted hill to 75 mph winds off the coast of Alaska, we shared adventure at every turn as we made more memories of us.

There were days we searched for the missing mustangs, wondering if they’d been captured and sold at auction, and then on to those that we wished they’d find another neighborhood in which to feed. There were notes made about plants that survived their destructive ways and trials with Wild Hog Deterrent made from Mountain Lion Urine. All things we plan to continue investigating after a restful winter.

There were early morning sunrises that prompted us to get moving and those glorious breathtaking, stop-what-you’re-doing sunsets when God decides to repaint the sky just to remind us He can. Most evenings, I stood at the window, coffee cup cooling in my hand, feeling grateful for a place that still makes me pause.

Then, there is the blessing of our wonderful groomers that keep Oliver and Tanner safe. Last week, Tanner’s groom discovered a lump in her breast. Today, we’ll make the long trip to our vet to investigate the cause. All prayers are welcome for a good outcome.

Looking back, this year was as close to perfect as it gets. Full of laughter with HHH, projects were either completed or abandoned. Spring winds tried to rearrange the property while Oliver and Tanner’s daily routines kept us grounded.

As Thanksgiving approaches, I’m reminded once again that blessings don’t always arrive loudly. Sometimes they whisper. And if we’re quiet enough, we’ll hear them.