Author: Joy Hurt

The past month was filled with so many different types of JOY, it’s hard to pick a topic from the choices. From celebrating our new marriage to enjoying small town traditions, this Christmas season held it all and this year, it’s hard to move on. Just a few weeks back, we were unpacking our Christmas boxes. In the blink of an eye, it’s time to repack the holidays for next year.

As our Christmas lights glow for the last few nights, I’m reminded of a new experience I encountered during this very new marriage to HHH.

HHH had been itching to do SOMETHING with the front yard. ANYTHING AT ALL. When I moved into Winterpast in 2020, the plants and bushes were so high, the house was hidden. It’s a beautiful place that shines all on her own, however, the juniper bushes weren’t doing her any favors. Everything but the trees were removed in 2021.

Since then, xeriscaping has produced a fine look for me, with plans for zero scaping in the future. With wild mustangs eating everything in sight, there’s no reason to plant anything until a fence is installed. That’s the big plan for Winterpast this year. A front yard fence! But, for now, the barren landscape has been sprayed for weeds and sits awaiting spring.

Each evening until December 1st, HHH would sit on the front porch pondering just what he would do with lights. And then, it was time to begin. It started with white ice cycle lights around the front of the house. Pristine and emitting a soft glow, the look was just right for Winterpast. That would have been an amazing improvement, but he wasn’t stopping there.

Every day was filled with the search for more lights. More extension cords. The location of the GFI breaker when it was tripped. More decorations. A family of deer. Two trees. nets of colored lights. It went on and on. All the while, the Marine-Across-The-Street was observing and putting up a fine display of his own.

The dueling Marines encouraged each other with every new strand of lighting they installed. Lighted candy canes appeared in one yard. Trees came alive with lighting in another. Slowly, our street became a sea of beautiful lights probably visible from space.

My Ninja Neighbor joined in the fun, making her yard into a wonderland of white lighting. Everyone on our street became involved in this endeavor. The mystery neighbor got with it and decorated his porch with lights. The people-on-the-move took time to light up their front door. Little by little the unexpected joy of Christmas lights took over. More than once, I noticed cars driving slowly down our street enjoying the results of our holiday spirit.

H-H-H Marine is already planning for next year. A forest of trees to the north of the drive. A decorated door on the RV barn. Animated figures. Maybe a manger scene with real animals. The possibilities are endless. With 2,000 new white lights, he’s planning to fancy up the back yard for those summer barbeques we’re planning. And the twinkly fun goes on and on.

I must report on one unexpected event that took us by surprise. It involves The Wookie, our girl-fur-baby. Wookie is an Aussie-Doodle who is very, very smart. She is also agile, learning that my dining room table was a fun place on which to jump for a better view out the window. Never have I ever!!!

Monday night, HHH was going to work his magic with two lovely pork chops. Not thin porkchops. No. These were the thick, delicious, delicious, gourmet type. He’d been working on the recipe all day while the chops thawed on the kitchen counter.

Late in the day, I was watering poinsettias, when I noticed there was only one porkchop on the plate. I thought HHH had probably put the second one in the microwave to thaw it a bit.

At about that time, I noticed our Wookie outside on the lawn. In a strange stance, she looked like she was in the middle of something. Perhaps choking. Perhaps relieving herself. Or perhaps……….

You guessed it.

She had STOLEN one beautiful chop from the counter!!!!

We now have a counter-surfing kitchen thief extraordinaire on our hands. What a character!!!

HHH was not amused. He and the Wookie had a very serious meeting outside in which, after much protest, 1/2 a chop was retrieved. An Unexpected Joy for the Wookie. I guess everyone needs to enjoy a holiday moment now and then.

Whatever you do today, don’t underestimate the lengths wo which your pets will go when a beautiful porkchop is involved. They are much smarter and more resourceful than we think. Gee, it must have been her who emptied the box of See’s candy……Yes. We’ll stick with that story.

More tomorrow.

What a difference a month of rest and relaxation can make!!! Throughout the holiday season, Hubba-Hubba-Husband and I were constantly reminded of the miracles in this great world. Although the broadcast news would make us all believe we’re surrounded by grinchy jackals and thieves, we found our little town on the high dessert plains of Northwest Nevada to be a bit like Who-Ville. Small town sweet and kind.

The holiday season can be full of ghosts that lurk in boxes of Christmas past. There were some decorations that didn’t make it to the 2023 display. After playing for 33 years, my set of electrified brass musical bells decided they had played their last song. The little Christmas village lost all power due to old and shoddy wiring. Other smaller decorations lost their luster over the long hot summer. And so, our Christmas decorations were pared down.

As for the exterior lighting, HHH went overboard to win our neighborhood lighting award. From a family of deer to exact lighted replicas of Oliver and Wookie, our house sparkled under at least 50,000 lights. And, during our first Christmas season, we sparkled just as brightly as Winterpast took on a festive glow.

When I moved to Winterpast in 2020, I was a new widow of just 17 days. A week before Christmas, I managed to trip over Oliver’s bed and sprain my ankle. The first year without a husband is pretty rough. Although VST and I shared not one real holiday tradition for 33 years, the lack of tradition was a tradition in itself. I didn’t know any different. We made Christmas Eve our shopping day, and spent more than one enjoying an empty mall while choosing our own gifts. It was just the way we rolled and there is something to be said for simplicity.

So, when my first widowed Christmas arrived in 2020, lights weren’t even in my thoughts. Of course, Winterpast would remain dark, with Oliver and I cocooned on the couch, nursing my bruises.

I did enjoy 9 presents, each one representing a month alone. During that first year, I had chosen a word a month that represented our relationship over the years. Friendship. Love. Adventure. Faith. Etc. With each new month, the word was my life-line when the hours became overwhelming. When about to lose it, I would simply think of the word of the month and all the reasons that word was so appropriate. Pretty soon, I’d be smiling and the crisis would be washed away in a sea of beautiful memories.

That first Christmas, I’d also included a note to my grieving self. Those words, written over the previous 9 months, spoke to the healing and birth of a new woman. And, those words, as words always do, helped heal my soul as days turned into months, and then years. Without actual lights, the soft glow from inside the house intensified. There was life inside, even if battered and bruise. That life would need time to heal until at some point, lights would be appropriate.

Over four years later, there is no doubt two very happy newlyweds live here now. Any light display wouldn’t be complete without a cross. Christ IS the reason for the season and it WAS represented in a huge white cross a blaze with twinkling lights.

This year, HHH and I shared many traditions, new to me. From hurrying to the door to hide presents, to putting up our beautiful tree, HHH was right there enjoying every minute with me. Just two lovely senior citizens enjoying their second month as a married couple. We finished our lovely holiday season by hosting a dinner for friends that were alone. Twelve new friends visited over ham, scalloped potatoes and homemade carrot cake. A wonderful meal was enjoyed by all.

As promised, through the month of December, we spent lots of time talking about the new blog site. Hubba-Hubba-Husband and I finally decided on a name. With a special nod to our love for gardening, it will focus on the surprises of marrying later in life. We plan to share our adventures with you, and yes, you will hear from HHH, as he has a lot to say. Stay tuned for upcoming information on the new blog. It is within days of blooming.

Throughout the years, Grievinggardener.com has helped me through very dark times as I healed through grief. It helped me to find the woman that was there all along. As you all took time to read, I could feel your prayers and love. And slowly, through words, I healed.

Now, it’s time to share our new life. Just Two Romantic Roses enjoying life to the fullest. I promise you laughter and plenty of good gardening tips. I hope you come along for the ride with HHH and me, making happy memories of us.

More tomorrow.

“HoHoHo” on hold, the time has come for a holiday pause. Settling in to married life, I’m finding my to-do list has grown by leaps and bounds, and the time I have left for blogging is limited.

September 24, 2020 found me a very lonely and sad widow writing private and very real thoughts down for the first time in my life. I think back to those early days when I squealed with delight at each new reader. I would spend hours looking up IP addresses to uncover the countries in which my readers lived. I stopped at 80. Each month since then, my readership has increased until today, I’m nearing 850,000 reads.

But, as the morning comes, I no longer awake at 4 AM with little Oliver ready to go to work with me. It’s called life and it’s happening to HHH and I right now. Somedays, it’s fun to sleep in. Sharing retirement is much more fun than going it alone.

By the time the afternoon comes around, I’m finding that my thoughts are racing 100 miles per hour about all the loose ends that need tying up. There are many things to attend to when changing the pace of life. I haven’t found the best writing schedule for creating my best blogs, all the while settling into married life.

Along with those reasons, I must say that I’m looking forward to enjoying my 2nd Christmas with HHH. Tonight, we are attending a small town Christmas tree lighting and dinner out with friends. Saturday night, were staying in town to watch the lighted parade to cheer the friends we know that are in the parade. Our dance card is filling up, without even mentioning that a certain blogger has a December birthday thrown in for good measure.

Christmas time is a great time to catch up on Bible Study, try new recipes, read, and enjoy the Christmas lights HHH put up just yesterday.

During my time off, I plan to work on a brand new blog focusing on the trials and tribulations of navigating the first year of marriage as senior citizens. I must say, I don’t remember the first days of marriage in my 30’s being this much fun. It’s been delightful and I want to share the details on a new blog. Creating that also takes some time and thought to get it right.

For all these reasons, I will be silent until Tuesday, January 2nd, when I will spill the tea about all the details.

I hope each and every one of you have a wonderful holiday season. Whatever you do, try to find something to enjoy each and every day of December. It’s a beautiful time of year to be alive. Thank you all for being such faithful readers.

With Love,

Merry Christmas and Happy New Years!

Joy

On November 30th, Stay Home Because You’re Well Day gives us an excuse to stay in for the day. We all need a break, and it’s nice to take it when healthy to enjoy it. This idea goes hand in hand with practicing LAZY, so I’m wondering if Auntie TJ had something to do with the creation of this National Day.

Remembering back to my days of employment, I do remember taking such days on the first rainy day of fall. Only planning for a one day absence, I would wait patiently while watching the weather forecast. On that first drippy day, I’d call in sick and enjoy a random day of raindrops and solitude. Lovely in every way.

It always fascinates me that people use fake illnesses for all kinds of excuses. Instead of owning the reason for declining an invitation or duty, some hide behind imaginary Covid. It’s not a healthy idea to create a phantom illness because sometimes excuses manifest into something real. This National “Stay Home Because You’re Well Day” is a marvelous idea.

After I’d been teaching for some time, our school district instituted “No-Tell” Days. We were given three per year to use in any way we chose. When using such a day, you would report your absence without a reason. Such a delightful idea. Employees need these days for their mental health.

I also remember enjoying “Mom-Days” with my kids when they were little. Sometimes a Mom/Son day is exactly what’s needed to rejoice and rejuvenate. I know my kids always enjoyed the time spent time together as much as I did.

Being home on a “Well” day is an opportunity to accomplish tasks. But, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with taking the day to practice “LAZY” either. Healthy life choices come in many forms, with burn-out not being one of them. Self-care in a busy life is critical.

If you decide to observe the National Day of Healthy Rest, try enjoying any of the following things.

*Spend time with your pets.

*Read.

*Walk.

*Binge on your favorite program.

*Plant your winter bulbs.

*Put up Christmas lights.

*Write Christmas cards.

*Go to lunch with friends.

*Try a new recipe for dinner.

*Nap.

*Plan a vacation.

*Scrap-book.

*Finish your fall cleaning and organization.

*Just do nothing at all.

Whatever you decide to do today, make it your and yours alone. Tomorrow will arrive soon enough. Take a deep breath and enjoy “National Stay Home Because You’re Well Day”. Peace be with you.

More tomorrow.

My new Social Security card arrived on Saturday. If you’ve recently had the need to change your name, you understand the importance of that first step. It was necessary to wait one month before applying for the card with my new name. This gave time for our marriage license to register with the county. And so, here we are at the end of November facing weeks of the tedious job of changing my name.

Of course, this is a privilege and something I’m very lucky to do. Every time HHH refers to me as his wife to someone else, it makes my heart swell. I’m still learning to say that I am Mrs. HHH, even after weeks of marriage. After almost 40 years of being Mrs. Hurt, both personally and professionally, changing gears is mind bending.

To get the Social Security with the new name, I had to wait for a certified copy of our marriage license to come via snail mail. Once that arrived, I sent it off with my passport. They assured me all original documents would be returned. I have yet to see that happen.

This creates problems when ordering a new passport. Eventually, everything will be in the same name. Mrs. HHH.

So, in the midst of unpacking HHH, Christmas, and keeping up with twice as much laundry, meals, and cleaning, I started thinking about just what advice my Auntie TJ would give. Of course, the best advice she’s ever given, (and she gives the best), was to always remember to practice LAZY. Just practice it, because for us farm girl types, it takes some work to internalize it.

Growing up, LAZY was something you never wanted to be accused of being. Nope. LAZY was a terrible trait when growing up in the 1900’s. There was always so much work to accomplish on the farm, that anyone caught being LAZY would certainly have hell to pay. Just wasn’t done. If you couldn’t find things to keep yourself busy, Mother would help you out and assign more chores. Period.

So, for Auntie TJ and I, practice is a must. As a new wife, I’m still figuring our whether HHH appreciates LAZY or not. He’s wheels never stop spinning, but that might be situational. There is a lot to do around here.

Practicing LAZY starts with an intentional pause in your normal chores. Nothing will collapse if you stop for 2 hours. If you’re lucky, try for 4. At the very least, start with 1. During that time, choose quiet and mindful thoughts of how nice it feels to sit and breathe. In and out. If you’re bold, try staying in your pajamas from morning until night. Take a nap in the middle of the day. Stretch the hours as you luxuriate in your own space.

I used to be great at practicing LAZY. Almost sloth-like, I could stay in jammies for days doing things I loved doing while watching the snow fall. A peace came over me as I took time to do the things I love. I’m going to do that again soon, after the name is changed on ever single contact I have.

For the time being, HHH and I will be scurrying around to prepare for an upcoming small town tree lighting, lighted parade, birthday celebration and family dinner. In a flash, it’ll be our first Christmas Eve here at Winterpast. I really want to enjoy every moment leading up to that. I’m going to do it by slowing down.

Whatever you do today, take time to stop. Just for a bit. Read a book. Take a walk. Sit in the sunshine. Take a drive. Do something you love. It’ll be great for what ails you.

More tomorrow.

Oh, what a beautiful Thanksgiving! Still honeymooning, HHH and I had the best time scurrying town getting all the fixings for our first holiday dinner at Winterpast. With a twenty pound turkey for a party of five, we’ve plenty of frozen turkey for future winter dinners. From the fresh cranberry sauce to the homemade pies, no one went away hungry.

Thanksgiving Eve, we worked the entire day to empty out the last of HHH’s belongings from his house. After five weeks of moving, neither of us ever want to experience that again. The yard is mowed and weeded and all trash has been hauled away as it awaits new occupants.

Now, the building formally known as the “RV barn” and forever more known as the “Man Cave” is filled to the brim. What a super place for five brothers to root for their favorite teams while my new sister-in-laws and I can enjoy coffee time inside the warm and toasty comforts of Winterpast.

Along with all the things my new husband brought along, the Man Cave will also home to a portable outdoor kitchen we’ll enjoy next summer. At the speed at which time is passing, it’ll seem like minutes before we’re cheering for the winner of the greased pig contest at our hometown Independence Day celebrations.

Of course, it wouldn’t be Thanksgiving weekend without some Black Friday fun. As it turned out, there was a deal on a new television that couldn’t be missed, as well as a deeply discounted Shark vacuum. Having just joined Walmart Plus, we ordered both things on Thanksgiving Day. To our surprise, they were delivered before 10 AM the next day. One of the stranger deliveries we’ve experienced, both things were delivered by people in their own private cars. Life is strange these days with nothing as it used to be. Even deliveries.

After doing more Black Friday shopping at places you wouldn’t think of, like a furniture store and travel outlet, we came home to package the remaining turkey and simmer the left over carcass into a lovely broth for use at a later time. Our kitchen talisman observed the entire procedure and approved. All the while, football played in the background.

HHH comes from a family of five boys, all stellar athletes that still hold high school and college records, all being distinguished members of the High School “Hall of Fame”. How my new Mother-In-Law keeps their teams straight is beyond me, but she does.

Now, I came from a house of five young ladies. We didn’t ever watch football or sports, for that matter. Our television, once we had one, was parked on programs like “My Friend, Flicka” or “Flipper”. Our movie choices involved musicals or romantic comedies with Doris Day or Rock Hudson. Not football.

I’m the first to admit that I don’t know very much about the rules of the game. It doesn’t hold my attention any more than my programs fascinate HHH. I needed to find a way to make it a little more interesting. After hearing about a unique method for choosing a winning football team a few years back, I’ve made it my own. It’s simple. Just root for the team with an animal as their mascot, such as the Miami Dolphins or the Chicago Bears.

If two animals play, choose your favorite. If no animal is in the game, pick the team with the best uniforms. So far, I think I’m doing okay. HHH finds the whole thing cringeworthy, which makes the whole idea even more delicious. I will say that choosing a random team each game does make it a bit more fun. My preferred team is the Baltimore Ravens, represented by my favorite bird.

With many days left to enjoy the holiday, it’s time to get on with projects at hand. Today will involve a trip to the Nevada Department of Motor Vehicles to handle name and address changes and all issues related to cars. Then, it’ll be on to take a photo for a new passport, because, a girl just never knows when it might be necessary to have one at the ready. Changing names and addresses are equally frustrating at times. It’s nice that we can share the pain.

Whatever you do today, get some fresh air and sunshine. Think about the reason for the season and get caught up with friends. Heck, break out the pen and send some Christmas cards. Hohoho, let it snow!!!!

More tomorrow.

Family has been coming and going this week. Some of our desert peeps are in Kentucky, while Arizonan’s have dropped in for a surprise visit. And so it goes around the holidays. Families doing their best to get together for a few days of great memories.

This will be our first Thanksgiving as a married couple here at Winterpast. Ollie and Wookie will be hanging out under the table hoping to score some handouts along the way. HHH is a master chef and has been planning our meal for a week or more. I plan to be his sous-chef, already having set the dining room for a party of five.

There is something admirable about a man that needs to cook a 20 lb. turkey for five to insure lots of left-overs. We’ll be up tomorrow morning at dark:30 to stuff our bird while waiting to watch the Thanksgiving Day Parade. With careful planning, there’ll be plenty of time left to enjoy the day.

On this eve, Thanksgiving 2023, having HHH in my life is the biggest blessing of all. I’m thankful for the love of family and friends that surround us all year long. I’m really thankful to be able to enjoy a Mother’s love once more in my life. The beauty of the desert that surrounds us makes me glad to be alive.

Whatever you plan to do for the holidays, please spend time with those you love. Start a list of all the blessings in your life. Once you get started, the list will practically write itself.

I plan to eat too much turkey, sleep in, and enjoy some Christmas movies. I’ll be back on Monday with more stories from my little town that sits proudly on a dusty wide spot off the interstate on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada.

One very short but interesting stop along the road from Twin Falls to West Yellowstone involved some inscriptions from long ago. Driving along, we’d notice signs mentioning Massacre Rocks State Park and Register Rock.

Located along the Snake River west of American Falls, Massacre Rocks State Park features a famous configuration of boulders along the south bank of the Snake, known alternatively as “Massacre Rocks”, “Gate of Death,” or “Devil’s Gate.”

A famous spot along the Oregon Trail and California Trail during the mid 19th century, emigrants gave this name to the narrow passage of the trail through the rocks, from the fear of possible ambush by Native Americans. According to diaries of emigrants, settlers in five wagons clashed with Shoshone just east of the rocks on August 9th and 10th, 1862. Eleven emigrants and 20 Shoshone died in the fight, which involved four wagon trains.

The remains of an extinct volcano, the rocks were often used as a campsite for wagon trains along the trail. Many emigrants carved their names and dates on the rock face, now protected by a shelter. The actual passage through the rocks is now Interstate 86 along the south edge of the park.

Look closely at the picture above. H. Chestnut signed the rock on August 20, 1862, just days after wagons fought with the Shoshone. How many children sat and read by these rocks, resting their feet after running alongside the wagon trains all day. Of all the things we saw on our honeymoon, this is one that still haunts me.

Troubled by conflicting accounts, I found actual diary accounts to read for myself, after so many have rewritten the facts. History is most interesting when one can find first hand accounts of events that took lives. There are those that believe any talk of massacres were just tales of the wild, wild west. Of course, the Native Americans were the most peaceful of peaceful. The settlers had nothing better to do than kill as they traveled through. Read some actual journals where truth is written on both sides.

Here’s a suggestion. First, go out into the desert on a moonless night, at least 20 miles from the nearest town. Then, only protected by a thin blanket, sit on the ground and listen to everything from breezes to coyote howls. After having listened to stories of attacks all day long and near the point of exhaustion, wait for the attacks to come to your wagon train. Staying alive took courage, stealth, and quick reflexes of people from both sides.

Just this week, there was a televised statement from a Native American man that no indigenous people ever scalped anyone. All-rightly then. Gotta love historical accounts of 1862 rewritten in 2023.

How could there be an actual count of men, women, and children killed in the action from either side? I’m sure both sides embellished stories that never happened, while those accounts too horrendous to tell died with those at the scenes.

In the diary of Henry M Judson 1862, he mentions, Jas Crawford, J Adams, John Walker, A. J. Cassidy and many more were wounded. I’d much prefer to read their journaled accounts to thoughts of historians writing today. As a writer, I’m thankful to Mr. Judson and other settlers for taking the time to write down their personal accounts of their journey.

Windmills???? In such a sacred place???? I hope H. Chestnut and T.J. Wilcox understand. I also hope they understand the need to hide their “Register Rock” behind chain link fencing to prevent defacing. Our world is certainly a mixed up place.

As Thanksgiving draws closer, remember your own ancestors and the bravery it took to survive and thrive in our beautiful country. The sacrifices they made to start new lives in the west were breathtaking. Bloodshed and illnesses be damned, the pioneers of 1862 had set their goals. Taking time to carve their names in rocks, they’re still remembered 161 years later by two honeymooners.

Although still considered the wild west by some, I wouldn’t trade my life on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada for anything. Hope you feel the same about your home town!

More tomorrow.

After the weeks of careful planning, our wedding day came and went without a hiccup. Our guests are still talking about the best wedding that happened on that beautiful October evening. It was truly an event to remember.

Early on, we had a few ideas for a blissful honeymoon. Some had suggested it might be silly to take one but that though never crossed our mind. Of course, we’d enjoy a honeymoon. Deciding on the destination took a bit of time. Many honeymooners choose the largest towns in Nevada. Those certainly weren’t a fit. We’d planned a trip to Maui, but, Maui burned, no longer an option. We’d considered the coast, but those plans didn’t come together like the rest of the wedding.

One evening, I mentioned my favorite place in the world. WYOMING. Our plans quickly came together. Although sharing a bit of Yellowstone with Montana and Idaho, 96% of the park lies in Wyoming. Yellowstone National Park in October would be the backdrop for beautiful memories as a brand new man and wife.

After searching online, we chose a little cabin in West Yellowstone. Not too far from the grocery store and restaurants, this little home would be the perfect place to begin our new lives together. We’d drive there, taking time to stop whenever we’d like, just like HHH had promised me we would as we danced to our song one night while we were making dinner.

We’ll follow the rainbow
Wherever the four winds blow
And there’ll be a new day
Coming our way …_{Keith Urban}

Our little town is 550 miles away from West Yellowstone. We’d need to stay the first night in Twin Falls, Idaho. This was a bonus, as I’d only driven through Twin Falls once, never stopping to see the falls.

After taking Sunday to enjoy breakfast with our kids, worship with our church family, and open presents at Winterpast, we were ready to hit the road on a bright and sunny Monday. The weather was perfect as we drove east on the interstate.

Before we left, I took some water based paint and wrote “Just Married” in big letters on the back of our luxurious ride. It’d be fun to see who would make comments along the way. Little did we know, it would spark some of the highlights of our trip.

After driving for a few hours, we decided to have breakfast at Sid’s in Winnemucca. If you are ever traveling through, do stop. They have the friendliest staff and the best food we’d eaten in a very long time. My white “BRIDE” fanny pack didn’t go unnoticed, as many shot smiles our way. It’s weird to blast along at full throttle for weeks and then STOP to live in the present.

Did you ever take a walk through the forest?
Stop and dream a while among the trees?
Well you can look up through the leaves right straight to heaven
You can almost hear the voice of God
In each any every breeze

You got to stop and smell the roses
You’ve got to count your many blessings everyday
You’re gonna find your way to heaven is a rough and rocky road
If you don’t stop and smell the roses along the way …… _{Mac Davis}

Back in the car, we talked and sang familiar songs all the way to Idaho. On the way, we entered into big-sky plains, still green from the rainy year. The conversations were easy as they always are between us. There were no cross moments, no tensions about the raging war, no mentions of new shootings. Just miles and miles of peaceful driving.

Traveling through the high desert, we saw miles and miles of nothing. Not an antelope or deer, although there were overpasses built just for their migrations. No highway patrol to ruin our moods. Just wide open roads on the way to Yellowstone.

We had lots of time to talk about plans for HHH’s big move to Winterpast, which is occurring as I write this blog. Moving, contacting businesses, and changing one’s name are three things that add to the stress of the moment. Top that with preparing a house for a lease, and you could see there are many stressful things that could have distracted us from our fun. Didn’t happen.

That night, settling into the “Best Western Plus”, we sat in our comfy clothes while watching the World Series.

Watch a little, talk a little, watch a little, watch a little,
Snack, Snack, snack, talk a lot, watch a little more.

That is how HHH and I spend our days together. With sports playing in the background, there’s always something interesting to question, share, or laugh about. Thank goodness for the pause feature on YouTubeTv and a patient husband that uses it often.

Well, that sums up the first day of the honeymoon. Romantically perfect for us in every way.

Whatever you do today, think about planning a road trip. You don’t need to travel far to discover beauty in the surrounding area and also in your travel partner. Be part of the great migration, even if it’s just for a day.

More tomorrow.

Since August 28th, 2022, when I first met this wonderful fisherman who is now known as my Hubba-Hubba-Husband, I’ve been given a precious blessing from God. Having spent many hours in deep conversations about his plans for me, I would often ask God for a strong Christian man to enter my life. He blessed me with HHH.

When we first met, we shared many interesting conversations. One of the more serious ones involved our mirrored desires to honor God before all else. Through widowhood, the single life, and dating, God guided us to that very moment when I walked down the aisle into my new life as a Christian wife.

Our minister had asked what song we’d chosen for the processional. There were so many on the list. Of course, we could’ve gone traditional with “Here Comes the Bride”, but that didn’t see right.

“Bless the Broken Road” by Rascal Flats was a contemporary front runner. Its lyrics spoke of the hard times through widowhood both HHH and I had experienced before finding true love.

“That every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart, they were like Northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you

I think about the years I spent just passing through
I’d like to have the time I lost and give it back to you
But you just smile and take my hand
You’ve been there, you understand
It’s all part of a grander plan that is coming true” _{Rascal Flats}

We’d already decided on that song, until another made us both cry. It’d be the perfect song to play as I walked down the long aisle towards the man with the bluest eyes and the smile of home. The song was The Prayer, The English Version song by Mikalene Ipson and Eric Dodge. Although their were other versions by more famous people, this version fit the time and place.

The Prayer

I pray you’ll be our eyes and watch us where we go. And help us to be wise in times when we don’t know.

Let this be our prayer when we lose our way. Lead us to a place, guide us with your grace to a place where we’ll be safe.

I pray we’ll find your light and hold it in our hearts. When stars go out each night, Remind us where you are.

Let this be our prayer when shadows fill our days. Lead us to a place, guide us with your grace.

Give us faith so we’ll be safe.

A world where pain and sorrow will be ended. And every heart that’s broken will be mended. And we’ll remember we are all God’s children reaching out to touch you while reaching to the sky.

We ask that life be kind. Please watch us from above. We hope each soul will find another soul to love. Just like every child needs to find a place, guide us with your grace. Give us faith so we’ll be safe. _{Mikalene Ipson/Eric Dodge}

With no time left for last minute changes, the time had come. CC burst through the door.

“It’s time.”

It was time to exit my hiding spot and look once more to the late afternoon Nevada sunshine, nearly finished for the day. The overflow room was filled to the brim with smiling friends and family that were excited to finally see me.

Just me. 67 years old. Wrinkled. Hair, some would say is way, too long for a lady of my age. Standing behind the most beautiful bouquet of flowers I’d have picked myself if they’d been blooming at Winterpast. The retired teacher type who loves gardening, hoodies, jeans, hot coffee, and tall UGG’s. The desert gal who spent the last year falling in love with HHH, who just happens to be in the top 1% of great guys!. Now the Spanx-i-fied bride, feeling the prettiest I’d felt in many, many years, both inside and out. Just me.

Our song was playing. HHH, The Mayor and the Pastor were in place. CC was already floating down the aisle in front of me, and then, it was my turn.

I tried to make it all the way to the aisle without doing anything outrageous, but then, there SHE was.

MISS FIRECRACKER!!

MY MISS FIRECRACKER!!! I have talked about her so often that HHH knew her without an introduction for SHE is the SPICY ONE that no one can miss. Her smile fills the room. I knew she would be there, but seeing her was the best surprise ever!! There was nothing else to do but stop and give her a hug on my way down to HHH.

Family and friends were there, waiting, as the song finished and it was time to get married.

HHH and I wrote our own vows. His made me swell with pride and then it was my turn. The crowd found it humorous that with all my intense planning, I managed to forget my glasses at home and had to borrow his. I think it won’t be the last time he’ll help me out when I’m without.

We promised all the traditional things Bride’s and Groom’s do. We did decide to leave out the part where someone might think it appropriate to object. No objections or rude comments would ruin OUR magical day. Besides, no one would be so rude as to attend a wedding that they weren’t celebrating! At least not anyone with manners.

At that moment, there was no one else in that crowded chapel except HHH and me. With one very sweet kiss, it was done. As Man and Wife, we exited the chapel to “You are the Sunshine of My Life” by Stevie Wonder.

We were both surprised that the husband and wife don’t sign the marriage certificate. Only the witnesses do, so The Mayor and CC handled that for us.

Married, there was nothing to do but head to our reception, and about all that, I’ve already written. We enjoyed cake, threw the bouquet, tossed the garter, and enjoyed every second until the party ended. Memories that will warm our hearts for as long as we live.

Whatever you do today, remember your own wedding day and the sweet memories that unfolded. There are only a few days in life as precious as the one in which you marry the very person that you cannot spent another day without. HHH and I are so blessed to have found one another in this, the last and best chapter of our lives!

Have a wonderful weekend. I’ll be back Monday to fill you in on our honeymoon travels.

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