Category: 2022

Let’s face it, the only kind of crown one needs in the desert is the kind that fit snuggly over aging teeth. There are no sparkling balls full of blushing debutantes. Nope. Best you have a pair of cowboy boots and a Stetson around here. Two-stepn’ and line dancen’ are about as fancy as we get. I might have gotten a better deal on one of the crowns shown above than the two custom made for my teeth.

Monday was a day for medical visits. Dentist and Optometrist.

My optometrist is a cool guy. He has a house in the biggest little city just to the west of me. During the week, he resides in a motorhome right off Main Street. Quiet and reserved, on Monday morning he was bemoaning the fact that he himself needs new glasses. He hasn’t had time. Reminds me of the mechanic with the broken cars. Fixing everything for everyone else, professionals leave themselves for last.

We had a good discussion about the horrific winds that have plagued us recently. His fence blew over and he can’t find a repair person to come fix it. That’s a huge problem in our area. No handyman available to fix things. Explaining that he might need to have his son-in-law come over to help fix the fence, I smiled. No matter your profession, problems are the same. Fences of the wealthy blow over just as quickly as fences of the poor. In the end, sometimes we all just need to call The Guy. In this case, there isn’t a GUY to call.

I’m so happy to report that at the age of 66, I have youthful eyeballs. Thank Goodness. No retinal tears or macular degeneration. Finally, something that isn’t sagging or out of whack. Just healthy eyeballs with the prettiest of arteries and veins running this way and that. As with a lot of older people, I just need a little vision correction with the help of contacts and glasses.

I bought my first pair of glasses from this office last year. Being the best frame and lenses of my life, I wear them all the time. Light, cute, and the perfect prescription, I was hoping I could just change out the old lenses with new. Someone near and dear assured me that would never be possible. Ever. Well, I had to prove that wrong. At least I had to give it a try.

After talking with Lady of the Frames, it turns out that they COULD and WOULD use my one year old frames and simply replace the lenses. Happy, Happy, Happy Day!!!! Qualifying for a 20% discount, I was just about dancing in my seat! But, I wasn’t done yet.

Could they put prescription lenses in my regular Costco Sunglass frames, I asked? My very cute “$34.00 for 2” Costco “Read at the Beach” Sunglasses? Those?

Well, yes they COULD and WOULD! Prescription Sunglasse hack!!! OOOHHHH LaLa!!! And, because they were a second pair, 30% off those lenses!!! I wanted to shout “Glory! Hallelujah!” right then and there. I’d hit the eyeglass lottery and it wasn’t even 10AM yet.

I knew that because 10AM would find me sitting in the dental chair being prepped for two new crowns. You know the kind I already mentioned. I’d gone back and forth about replacing both crowns or just one. I was there and the dentist was there. Might as well just go through one long visit rather than two shorter ones.

As it turns out, it was a good call on his part. After removing the old crowns, a digital photograph showed the obvious decay that had been growing under both old jackets. Root canal averted! With everything clean and tidy, temporary crowns were created and glued on. After only three hours in the chair and a 20% local discount, I was on my way back home.

Monday was a day for spending $$$ on self-care. Yes, a vacation to Tahiti would have been more enjoyable, but might have resulted in the root canal I averted by going to the dentist on Monday. Besides, I wouldn’t be set for beach reading with my amazing new prescription sun glasses. Things always work out the way they’re supposed to.

If you’ve been putting off appointments with the dentist or eye doctor, don’t delay. Be sure to ask for any and all discounts that might apply.

More tomorrow.

The world today could use a few more prayers. As the days go by, more and more things don’t make sense. I suppose in the 1970’s my Grandparents thought the same thing. Incomprehensible insanity is everywhere, as I age into one of those that’s not longer relevant. Everyone has two hands. Here’s another way to use them.

_{Inspired by — God’s Little Devotional Journal — Page 132.}

Many children learn to count on their fingers, but a nurse once taught a child to pray on his fingers.

This was her method:

The thumb is the digit nearest to your heart, so pray first for those who are closet to you. Your own needs, of course, should be included, as well as those of your beloved family and friends. As you prayer, be sure to praise God for all the blessings in your life. Even in the darkest of times, God’s blessings truly overflow.

The second finger is the one used for pointing. Pray for those who point you toward the truth, whether at church or school. Pray for your teachers, mentors, pastors, and those who inspire your faith. When pointing out the faults of another, three fingers pointing back at their owner. In prayer, ask for forgiveness of shortcomings.

The third finger is the tallest. Let is stand for the leaders in every sphere of life. Pray for those in authority– both within the body of Christ and those who hold office in various areas of government They need special prayers for wisdom. The world is a bit short on wisdom these days.

The fourth finger is the weakest, as every pianist knows. Let it stand for those who are in trouble and pain — the sick, injured, abused, wounded, or hurt. Ask God to help relieve the pain of loneliness and grief.

The little finger is the smallest. Let it stand for those who often go unnoticed, including those who suffer abuse or deprivation. Even the smallest troubles in the world need prayer at times.

What a great way to pray for ourselves and others. A simple and wonderful way to give the world a hand with prayer.

More tomorrow.

I got the cutest call from K yesterday. As one seasoned mom to another, I always love getting her calls informing me of the daily antics of my two grown grandsons. How did two little bundles lost in fleece turn into hairy men weighing 200 lbs. each. My goodness, Shorty is over 6’2 while my oldest grandson is 6’8. In my heart, they are still little guys that made VST and me proud every single day.

How well I remember the afternoon that K brought our grandsons to The Golden Chain Theater in Oakhurst, California to watch VST in his signature roll as Buck Badam. In melodramatic fashion, our two littles watched their Papa create a villain onstage while wielding his weapon in a choreographed sword fight. I guess it made quite an impression, as Shorty has become quite the actor. As he puts it, “the second actor in our family”.

Shorty is graduating from high school. Just like that, all grown up. He works 8 hour days at a local grocery store while acting and finishing high school. Of course, there’s always time for his girl, and their last prom is tomorrow night.

Remembering back to when I was K’s age, there were plenty of days when I wanted to scream in pride over the accomplishments of our five children. When VST and I married, we blended a family of 11-year-old twins, two 8-year-olds, and a six-year-old. We never looked back, doing our best to give the best examples of adulting to them, hoping that their lives could turn out as happy as ours. Now, almost 35 years later, it seems the kids have turned out alright.

Bubbling over on the phone, K was sharing her Mother’s Day delights, which for any mother is every single day. The highs and lows create a patchwork quilt of love and commitment that covers our children, even when they aren’t children anymore. In my own empty coop these days, thank goodness I have so many precious memories with which to snuggle on nights that are a little too quiet.

Still smiling this morning about K and her accompishments as a mom, I got my coffee and started with my morning ritual. Always checking the emails first, I had my own reason to scream with pride from the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada!

My beloved son, J, is on his way home from his deployment to another desert on the other side of the world. At 42, no one expected him to be chosen for deployment in his last year of service to our Nation. But, someone had to go and it was him. Leaving three children and a wife behind, along with his own business, he was plucked out of his life to serve our country for the last time. He’ll earn his retirement from the military later this year.

Yes, K, sometimes I’m so proud of my kids I just want to scream with delight. This is one of those moments for sure. Entrepreneurs and inventors, educators, healers, protectors, veterans, mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles, brothers, and sisters, husbands, wives, friends and mentors. Although a group of five to VST and me, each person unique and individually successful.

When I was pregnant 42 years ago, my obstetrician required weekly classes covering all aspects of parenthood, as well as the physical aspects of pregnancy and delivery. There were 25 classes, in all. No epidurals were necessary. Sheer will power and focus were enough. Knowledge of how to handle the difficult situation of labor and delivery would be better for the baby. It turns out, in my situation, it was.

One of the classes I remember the most was one on teaching independence to our children. As I sat, round-bellied like the other Pre-Mom’s in our maternity class, Doctor Ellis himself came in to teach the ultimate importance of independence. For two hours, he discussed the most important job of a mom. Teaching her babies to ultimately leave the nest and live life to the fullest on their own. That process begins with the simplest snip of the cord. What a lucky group of women we were to hear such such wise advise.

This Mother’s Day, it’s with pride that I scream in pride just a little about my flock. Five wonderful people that are contributing to society in their own unique and beautiful ways. That’s better than 100 Hallmark cards. It’s worth my everything. VST, rest easy up there in heaven. We did alright.

Have a wonderful day.

More tomorrow.

Yesterday was a day full of outdoor activities for me. From spraying the weeds to cleaning the spa, I enjoyed every minute of sunshine.

Oliver spent an hour protecting me from a leaf under the rose bush. It had caught his attention so he went to investigate. Every time he went to sniff it, his head was tapped by a rose thorn. Being a dog and all, he was sure that monstrous leaf was causing the problem. Try as he did, the thorns prevented him from getting closer. Who knows? Perhaps he saved me from a rattlesnake or something worse. I did check it out. Looked like a random leaf to me.

The birds have moved back in. Finches, black birds, crows, and doves. Everybody seems to be getting along on this Mother’s Day weekend. They’ve taken up residence in the little bird houses. With a bubbling drinking fountain and plenty of shade, they’ll stick around Winterpast for the season. I wish I knew what they were talking about as they seem to know all the neighborhood gossip.

The Peony’s and Iris’s will be opening soon. With the chance of snow on Sunday, I may pick some now and let them open in the kitchen. This year, I was really looking forward to plums, apricots, and blueberries. Late frosts and snows ruined the crop here at Winterpast. Well, there’s always next year. The best I can hope for is some pretty flowers, and that’s questionable.

Around noon, I went out for a cheeseburger after I’d received a coupon in the mail. My little town is suffering from a lack of workers. Restaurants are empty because people like me have given up the long waits and expensive prices in exchange for home cooking. Having the place to myself, I enjoyed the best hamburger and fries. My first Mother’s Day meal of the weekend!

Thinking back to my teenage years, I’d have loved nothing more than to get a job. Living in a sea of vineyards, the nearest town was 40 minutes away. To far to go when the average wage was $1.25 an hour. In the businesses around my little town today, the workers are mostly my age or older. Not many teens joining the workforce these days. A sad state of affairs.

Today, my weekend will continue with a binge on the Kentucky Derby. No favorite here. My favorite was always Bob Baffert, and that bad boy can’t attend for a few years. Now, we’ll never know if his horses were good enough to win all on their own. So many things in this world are not what they seem.

Just look at the Johnny Depp trial. Two people that had the world at their fingertips. Ego driven. Money wherever they turned. Private islands and entire villages. Private jets to movie premiers in which they were the stars. The world was theirs. How many millions have been put under the spell of Jack Sparrow? In the end, they were both pirates of the worst kind. Stealing admiration and accolades, when they weren’t acting but portraying their true selves. A pity.

Whatever you do this Mother’s Day Weekend, treat yourself kindly. Do something that makes you smile. Mom’s have the most wonderful superpower of all. We created other humans. Pretty incredible.

More tomorrow.

Have a wonderful day, my Mom friends! If you’re not a Mom, take some time to remember your own Mother.

More tomorrow.

Thinking back, I’ve been lucky enough to receive plenty of sage advice from respected women in my life. Sometimes, one-liners say it all. Enjoy.

Everything will be okay.

Everything looks darkest before the dawn.

Take two aspirin and things will be better in the morning.

Stop worrying about what the house looks like. They aren’t putting “She had a clean house” on your gravestone.

Never trust anyone, especially after someone does you wrong.

Put on your big girl panties and get over it.

Live and learn.

Don’t take grief from anyone.

Nothing good happens after 11 PM.

Always remember who you are.

Why put off something until tomorrow when you can get it done today?

Always hold your head high and remain true to yourself.

Never stop trying because the possibilities are endless.

Have a good time and spend your money. A shroud has no pockets.

Enjoy yourself.

Suck it up, Buttercup.

Don’t rush through life. You’ll miss the good parts.

You better cool it off before you burn it up.

You heard me the first time.

Let her be the strong-willed girl she is. It’s only going to turn her into a powerful woman one day.

Whatever you do, enjoy yourself.

Take things one day at a time.

Never trust anyone with two first names.

Be a leader, not a follower.

Stupid is as stupid does.

It’s not made of soap.

Like is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get.

Want to have a good time? You need a good watch.

Everything happens for a reason.

If you mess up on your diet, enjoy the rest of your day. You can start over tomorrow.

Save a little for a rainy day.

Get ready for church. We’re going to be late.

Do your best and let God do the rest.

No one will ever treat you in a way you don’t allow them to. Create your own standards.

Plan with your brain, but don’t forget to listen to your heart.

Be yourself. Care for yourself. Love yourself. The rest will fall into place.

Hurry up! We’re almost to the short rows.

Learn to dance in the rain.

Remember who you are.

Trouble’s always going to be there. Don’t let it bring you to your knees.

Look up.

_{(published by Nicole Pelletiere-Fox News — with a few additions by me)}

I’m ready to walk the mall today
Pennies in my pocket, I’m ready to play
And it’s a goofy thing but I just got-ta say,
I’m doin’ alright in the best kind of ways.

Meet-n’ the gals for salad and soup
I’m feelin’ pretty good and that’s the truth
It’s neither drink nor drug induced
Nope, I’m just doin’ alright in the best kind of ways.

It’s a great day to be alive!!
I know the sun’s still shin-n’ when I close my eyes
Hard times get me down, that’s always gonna be
Why can’t everyday be just this good?

It’s been 2 years since you left home
And said “Good Luck” to every seed we’d sown
We gave it our best and then you left me alone
And now, I’m doin’ alright in the best kind of ways.

I look in the mirror and what do I see
My grandmother there stare-n’ right back at me
Long in the tooth but still pretty as can be
Lord, I’m doin’ alright in the best kind of ways.

It’s a great day to be alive
I know the sun’s still shin-n’ when I close my eyes
Hard times get me down, for sure.
But why can’t everyday be just this good?

Sometimes it’s lonely, sometimes it’s only me
With lonely shadows creep -n’, filling my empty room
Somedays I’m fall-n’ desperately, call-n’ out your name
Howl-n’ at the moon, grief for this old dame.

But, today I’m doing alright in the best kind of ways.

I could always try a new hair-do
Or take my dog for a three day cruise
Might even grow me tomatoes, Go wild and plant some cukes.

It’s a great day to be alive
I know the sun’s still shin-n’ when I close my eyes
Hard times get me down, for sure.
Praise God, my life’s this good.

I’m doin’ alright in the best kind of ways

_{Original written by Travis Tritt….. personalized by Joy Hurt}

Spring is a great time to try new adventures. Things I’d thought impossible are now routine, such as a morning drive 45 minutes west to meet up with girlfriends for lunch. I can hardly believe these gals have been my besties for eight years now. Time moves on. VST and I became Nevadans in May 2014 when we purchased The Dun Movin’ House in Virginia City.

The girls and I chose a favorite upscale chain restaurant in which we all vowed to eat our factory-produced cheesecake first. Only one of us stuck to that promise, and it wasn’t me. I went for their signature chopped salad. Such a disappointment all the way around. This lovely, lovely building sat empty at 11:45. A restaurant that was once sold out every day at lunch and dinner. The booths and bar sat empty and waiting. With only a handful of customers inside, one would think we we’d have the best meal and service ever.

Wrong.

Our waitress was having a rotten day, and the restaurant had barely opened. Miss Happy snarled at us when we weren’t quite ready to order. The menu at this place is pages long, with delicious and exotic choices. That’s part of the fun of eating there. The menu. We weren’t shaping up to be a good team, this waitress and her three girly customers.

“I suppose you want bread and butter with your meal?” the waitress snarled with attitude. Alrighty then. Yes, we certainly did.

Nearly throwing the stale bread on the table, she snapped again.

“What’ll it be?”

Now, we WERE dining in a cow-town. But, couldn’t this beautiful restaurant with blown glass lights and polished marble floors do better than this woman. Surely they could. But, with empty booths all around, maybe not. What is with the lack of help these days? Where are the college students with their big loans that need re-paying?????? I’m not feeling too sorry for those that aren’t working three jobs while paying off their very real debts. Nobody rides for free. Well, silly me. Maybe that’s just not true anymore. I, like many of you, certainly remember filling every college day with work and studying. Not much time for naval examination.

We each ordered meals that collectively cost $77.00. For lunch. For that amount, we had two salads, a tiny cup of soup, stale bread, two cups of tea, a cup of coffee, and one piece of cheesecake. The haphazard presentation of the food went along with our waitress, Diner Dolly. How sad that even the experience of having a nice lunch out is no longer something special. Next time, we’ll bring bag lunches and sit by the river for lunch. With everything being so expensive, we could prepare and enjoy a much better lunch for the $$$.

The girls filled me in on the gossip of my old home town, Virginia City. Yes. People really live nice quiet lives above the craziness of “C” Street. I’ve never missed moving off Mt. Davidson with it’s dangerous blizzards and wild tourists. Two million people a year visit one tiny part of “C” Street. The dusty wide spot in the road that I now call home is much more fitting for me. If I have one walker a day go by my house, it’s a busy one.

In Virginia City, any reason could be good enough for a parade through town in which Highway 341 would be closed for the duration. The white lines of the Highway are painted green for Saint Patrick’s Day. The state highway is the sight of the Outhouse Races, along with the Easter Pet Parade. The high school athletes climb atop the town’s firetruck and ride proudly down “C” Street after winning their state divisions with horns blaring. It’s quite a sight to see the entire football or baseball team atop a working fire truck. Nowhere else are such antics normal occurrences.

One of my friends excitedly talked about my favorite coastal town in California. It seems she and her husband will be RVing there next week in their rig. Talking about the route they’d take brought back many memories. VST and I traveled there so often, it seemed like our second home. A solo ten hour road trip to the coast is something that remains just beyond my limits for now.

After all the news had been shared, it was off to shop. The girls each had a blast buying new clothes for spring. Not finding anything for myself, I had fun watching them choose their bright colored blouses and shorts, giving them encouragement. You know what they say — “Some days you’re the windshield and some days your the bug”.

After a fun day of visiting, it was time to hit the interstate and get back to Oliver who waited patiently at home.

Stopping for a my own small Blizzard at the DQ, I smiled. The biggest little city is right there waiting for the next time I need a little retail therapy. Just a 45 minute drive away, I only need to get in the car and go.

Have a wonderful day doing whatever it is you love doing.

More tomorrow.

With the crazy weather we’ve been experiencing here on the desert plains of Northwestern Nevada, thoughts have turned back to the comfort of soup for dinner. I’ve always wanted to try recipes from “Mastering the Art of French Cooking” by Julia Child. I was a big fan of the hilarious impersonations on Saturday Night Live from long ago. Then, I watched the movie “Julie and Julia”, and decided I needed that cookbook. On my first Christmas as a widow, Santa Claus came through and I got my very own copy. The first section is all about soups.

Two weeks ago, after dicing cups of onions and buying the right kind of beef broth and Vermouth, my first try at French Onion soup was a rave success. Prepared only for myself, even the carefully prepared crouton was perfect. Each day the soup ripened, until on the third day, it was truly mind blowing.

Today, the clouds are again forming in the sky. With temps never getting above 50 degrees today, Soup #2 is in the crock pot. Cream of Mushroom soup. I found the perfect mushrooms today at the store. With all the necessary ingredients, I began dicing and slicing. It will slowly cook in the crock pot on low until dinner.

Below is the recipe. Although the soup isn’t finished yet, it has every promise of being just as fantastic as the first. Who knew that so few ingredients could create such a wonderful result. Enjoy.

Potage Veloute’ Aux Champignons (Cream of Mushroom Soup)

_{Mastering the Art of French Cooking — Julia Child — Pages 40-41.}

Here is a fine, rich mushroom soup for grand occasions or as the main course for a Sunday supper for 6 to 8 people.

1/4 cup minced onions

3 Tbsp. Butter

3 Tbsp. flour

6 cups boiling chicken stock

2 parsley sprigs

1 bay leaf

1/8 tsp. thyme

The chopped stems from 1 lb. of mushrooms

2 Tbsp. Butter

The thinly sliced caps from 1 lb. of mushrooms

1/4 tsp. salt

1 tsp lemon juice

2 egg yolks

1/2 – 3/4 cup whipping cream

Optional

1 – 3 Tbsp. softened butter

6-8 fluted mushroom caps cooked in butter and lemon juice

1. In a 2 1/2 quart, heavy-bottomed enameled saucepan, cook the onions slowly in the butter for 8 to 10 minutes, until they are tender, but not brown.
2. Add the flour and stir over moderate heat for 3 minutes without browning.
3. Off heat, beat in the boiling stock or broth and blend it thoroughly with the flour. Season to taste. Stir in the mushroom stems, and simmer partially covered, for 20 minutes or more, skimming occasionally. Strain, pressing juices out of the mushroom stems. Return the soup to the pan. ( At this point, I put the soup in my crock pot on low heat).
4. Melt the butter in a separate saucepan. When it is foaming, toss in the mushrooms, salt, and lemon juice. Cover and cook slowly for five minutes.
5. Pour the mushrooms and their cooking juices into the strained soup base. Simmer for 10 minutes.
6. *If not to be served immediately, set aside uncovered, and film the surface with a spoonful of cream or milk. Reheat to simmer just before proceeding to the step below, which will take 2 to 3 minutes.
7. Beat the egg yolks and cream in the mixing bowl. Then, beat in hot soup by spoonful’s until a cup has been added. Gradually stir in the rest. Correct seasoning. Return the soup to the pan and stir over moderate heat for a minute or two to poach the egg yolks, but do not let the soup come near the simmer.
8. Off heat, stir in the butter by tablespoons. Pour the soup in a tureen or soup cups, and decorate with optional mushrooms and herbs.

In Julia’s own sweet words, “What a happy task you have set for yourself! The pleasures of the table are infinite. Toujours bon Appetit!!!”

More tomorrow.

Last year, Winterpast got a new blanket of DG. For those of you living in the lush green grasses of California, let me explain. DG stands for Decomposed Granite. In other words, crushed rock. DG is the material covering lovely garden paths at your local nursery. It’s great for zero-scaping, making everything look neat and tidy. The larger-sized DG doesn’t blow away like sand does in our Zephyr windstorms that regularly blow through here.

This year, for some unknown reason, my DG is supporting a crop of weeds. Growing atop two inches of crushed rock, these little succulents and their roots are easy enough to remove. With no mulch or dirt in which to anchor themselves, these little weeds have managed to find enough moisture from the air to grow. I spread DG as an effective weed barrier. How many would I have without the DG?

Life is just like my DG, isn’t it? You think everything is raked up neat and tidy, when in reality, we’re all just a lab report away from disaster. Those moments when your DG looks just perfect as you sip lemonade on your porch are moments. Real life is everything else we deal with or dodge 24/7. Weeds in the DG is God’s way of giving me something small to distract me from off the bigger problems in life, even if only for an hour.

Living on a street of retired gardeners, letting the weeds remain isn’t an option. In my dusty little town at the wide spot in the road, my neighborhood is an oddity. People actually like creating a beautiful yard and spend hours caring for them. On my street especially, weeds are frowned upon. Mind you, this isn’t the normal way of thinking in my town.

Two of the best gardening home owners are ready to sell. Sadly, they live right across the street. Aged out, they are returning to family in California while the fate of our street remains in the hands of reality professionals. Loud music? Zero-scapers? Party animals? People with multiple adult children and their children living under one roof? Or retired people that appreciate the quiet solitude that the desert provides. Only time will tell. I know that I’ve been blessed with the quietest of neighbors for two years now. My luck probably won’t hold out much longer. Living in a sea of original owners enjoying their twilight years was a risk I took when buying Winterpast. After 20 years, the neighborhood is ripe for a change.

Today, the weather may start warming up a little. It’s 42 degrees as I write this morning, with an expected high in the 70’s. A wonderful day to get rid of the unwanted weeds in the front yard while soaking up the sun and making a little Vitamin D on my own.

After the weeds are done, I plan to visit VST’s headstone in Virginia City. If you visit the cemetery, go to the top of the hill and look for one of the few new headstones of the only Dr. in the place. You’ll find it. If you can’t, ask Calvin, the caretaker. He’ll take you right to the spot, as he knows every inch of the property.

For the first time as a widow, I’ve purchased a lovely headstone spray in red, white, and blue flowers. While decorating Winterpast with some patriotic buntings in recognition of Memorial Day, I remembered that my other little spot of Nevada real estate needs some attention. On a barren hilltop, surrounded by headstones of those who passed in the 1800’s, few relatives are left to remember their loved ones. A wonderful reason to spend a morning in VC and enjoy a lunch of Gospel Fried Chicken at Cafe del Rio. I may even chase it with an ice cream cone from Grandma’s Fudge and Confections.

Whatever you do today, make it enjoyable. It’s Friday!! Kick up your heels and live a little.

More tomorrow.