Category: 2023

After a wonderful vacation, I’m back to fill you in on the latest happenings in my tiny little town. It’s definitely springtime in the desert, although the temperature was a chilly 43 degrees Fahrenheit this morning. Although the afternoons are quite sunny and comfortable, it’s still nippy before dawn. The winds have been fierce and will continue to be today. The high Sierra’s are expecting snow again tonight. It’s still winter there.

Last week, the temperatures rose into the high 80’s, intensifying worries of flooding. With much of the pasture land under water and reservoirs full, it’ll be interesting to see where the spring run off will go. One thing is for certain, flood waters are rising.

Here at Winterpast, the apricot, plum, and apple trees are beginning to bloom. The blueberry bush is budding. The bulbs are awakening. The lawn is greening up. Spring is here! Sadly, a random frost wiped out the apricots and they will again be ornamental this year. Such is the way of the weather in the desert.

I’m happy to say the horses haven’t been around to visit. They usually return to the high country to avoid people when the weather starts to improve. At 4500 ft. elevation, some would say I already live in high country, but there are many hidden peaks and valleys around here that are much higher.

So far this year, I’ve only seen one foal. With the horse management teams working the herds, many of the mares are now sterilized. Of course, there are the continual round-ups in which the mustangs are captured and moved to holding pens which have a very strange resemblance to cattle feed lots. There are many pretty fairy tales about their relocation. The sad reality is that there are just too many. If this tears at your heart, come adopt one for $125. Bring a rope and a beat up trailer. Just remember, they are 1,000+ lbs. of wild.

As is often the case in the desert, our spring will be a short one this year. In just a couple weeks, it may seem more like summer. That’s life in the desert.

If you love your garden like I do, you’ve probably started dealing with the weeds. The other day, I was out weeding when the first neighbors of the day walked by.

“So much work, those weeks are, eh?”

“Sure are.”

“We pay to have them sprayed once a year. Saves time and our backs.”

Wait, WHAT????? After they shared the cost, I returned to the more affordable removal method of choice. Old fashioned weeding.

About ten minutes later, Ninja Neighbor came out to walk her dogs.

“Hey there, are you going to spray this year? I’m getting my yard done today.”

I’m currently rethinking the weed abatement program here on the grounds of Winterpast.

As the birds are selecting the proper placement of the first nests of the season, the yard calls to me and I must go.

Whatever you do today, don’t let the weeds get ahead of you. Don’t go crazy with the soil sterilant. Use it only where you want things sterilized for the entire year. Check for emerging bulbs and the first flowers of spring. In the morning chill, there’s always spring cleaning that waits inside. Sunshine is sure to put a smile on your face!

More tomorrow.

Today is National Velociraptor Day. April 18th. A day to celebrate this guy. A long extinct dinosaur that was relatively small, measuring only about six feet long or a touch over with that long tail, and weighing around 30 to 40 pounds. Just about the same as large size turkey. It wouldn’t have been able to look you in the eye unless it jumped up, and would have been about 1.6 feet. From the little I know about them, they ran in packs. After all, it’s always better to hunt with friends.

Just look at the illustrator’s ideas about what they might’ve looked like. Claws bigger than 16 penny nails and curved for better tearing. Jagged, pointy teeth with which to devour prey. Great vision, perfect sense of smell, and intense ability to hear. All the better with which to eat up its victims to the last bite.

Somedays, I would’ve preferred meeting up with a velociraptor rather than the cancer that stole away VST. Just as deadly, it stalked my husband for years, long before we knew it was just around the bend. It stripped him of his muscles and mind, leaving only the bones and a soul that left this earth far too soon.

This cancer left me hiding in a wilderness of grief I never expected. With faith, strength, courage, and patience, I made it through to the other side.

I could’ve fought off a velociraptor with a powerful gun. We could’ve sheltered in place until the herd of them went to find other victims. Heck, we might’ve even cooked one up to make a pretty good meal. I bet they would’ve tasted a lot like chicken.

As far as cancers go, Cholangiocarcinoma is one of the worst. Probably more comparable to a T-Rex than a silly Velociraptor.

Today, April 18th, is National Velociraptor Day. I doubt you’ll run into one. They’ve been gone from this earth for years and years. Not sure why it’s necessary to have a National Velociraptor Day. Whatever you do today, celebrate if you are not battling cancer. Hold your loved ones close.

You know that gratitude journal you’ve been meaning to start?

Entry #1 — Great Health!

Now, celebrate that!!!!!

More tomorrow

PS —

Winterpast just 5 minutes ago —

Goodbye, 2023 Apricots and plums. When will this end????

Easter week was small-town adorable around here. There were egg hunts at Out-Of-Town-Park, and even a high school rodeo. One thing is for sure, this is the first time in many years that things seem normal. No masks. Tons of people out and about during the weekend. In general, us desert folk are ready for some fun.

These days, it seems as every car in town is rolling down main to clog up our teeny tiny little one lane round-about. There was barely space for a stop sign next to the rail overpass before they decided to utilize the new concept. Yielding to others. There are plenty of tire tracks on the inside curb, softened to accommodate the big rigs, some with three trailers instead of two. Such is life in our small, simple town.

The day before Easter, MM and I decided to explore. If we were planning to attend Sunrise service, we should know how to get there. “Turn at the first dirt road off Reservation Road,” isn’t the most detailed directions. The GPS in my new car would miss that one, and besides, my new car wouldn’t do well without pavement.

On a perfectly windy and blustery day, off we went in MM’s faithful truck. It’s seen all and knows all the ways of the desert, as does he. Being a resident since the mid-1900’s, he already knows the cool, out-of-sight places up the hill and around the bend. He knew right where we were going.

Well, it IS a bit of a drive.

You need to go over the raging river.

By Papa’s Ranch House.

Turn right at the one stop sign going through town.

Go by the school.

Just a couple minutes past the school, veer off to the left onto the dirt road.

Travel five miles over washboard roads. (According to Wikipedia, Washboarding creates an uncomfortable ride for the occupants. I can confirm this.)

Past the skinny desert cows with their spring calves. (Don’t ever get to close to these mamas.)

Just park at the corral and walk up the hill to the three crosses and you are there.

Now repeat at 5:30 in the morning in desert darkness.

It was wise that we decided to do this during the day. The washboarded dirt road was still an uncomfortable ride, but we knew it wouldn’t last forever.

The service was absolutely beautiful, under a beautiful desert sky. As the sun came up, the message was one of beauty, faith, hope, wonder, and life everlasting.

Whatever you decide to do today, you might want to plan an adventure just outside your own little town. Remember, dirt roads wash out. Never travel farther than you can travel back. Watch out for steep grades and mad mama cows. Be sure to get some pictures. You might need to give directions someday.

More tomorrow.

Since February, I’ve been getting acquainted with my new used car. How a car can be considered “USED” when it only has 13 miles is a puzzlement. But, that’s exactly the way it was sold to me. A “USED” luxury car with 13 miles on the odometer. Because of its status, it came with a 6-year-unlimited-mileage-warranty. Something I’ve never heard of, but something that definitely fits my situation perfectly.

Let’s see. In six years, I will be well into my 70th year. I, too, will be enjoying unlimited miles of scenic tours from sea to shining sea. My average speed by that time will be 35 mph. This mature woman and her brand new car are a match made in heaven. Until then, I’ve been learning the power and speed of this new car. Just yesterday I found it necessary to pass an overloaded semi on a long stretch of desert roads. Just for a moment, I felt what 102 mph feels like. In this car equipped with its turbo engine, driving feels more like flying over the ground.

The first 5,000 miles have taken me from the Pacific beach to the Sierra Nevada’s. From the Gateway to Yosemite to the high desert plains I call home. It’s carried me to the shore of the most beautiful lake I know. It’s kept me safe in snow storms and warm during one of the coldest winters on record.

My new car has features even Barbie hasn’t dreamt up. It took awhile, but I now know that with the swipe of my foot under the rear of the car, the back hatch opens automatically. Hands-free. Once I’m home, t will bother me with texts if I forgot to lock up. It will also not allow me to lock the car if the keys are inside. It finds directions to places I don’t even know exist. And, like my Jeep, it has gauges for pitch and roll, as well as a compass just in case I ever decide to go off-roading.

When I first saw her right outside the show room on that snowy day at the end of February, the salesman told me I wouldn’t be disappointed in performance or service. So far, he’s been correct. That morning, I had to wait to see her for the first time. She was being filmed for the weekly television ad for the dealership, being so special. I wonder what the advertisement would have said? It never had a chance to run.

“Step right up and buy this amazing used car. 13 miles on the odometer. This is a one-of-a-kind!”

When she was done filming, they drove her down and the rest is history. I still remember being in a daze while getting my picture taken next to a car with a bright red bow on the top. I didn’t get to keep the bow, but it was fun to take possession of a car with a bow.

I did have something to celebrate at that time. Grievinggardener had just passed 500,000 reads. Quite something for a little old lady that gets up at 4:30 every morning to put out a blog meant to help fellow Grievers get through the day.

I plan to name her very soon. Her name will be “PAGES” and she’ll quite possibly by my last car. There are somethings in life that we can’t deny. The passing of time is one of them. Until tomorrow comes, I plan to drive her down my roads of today.

K and T, (my kids that aren’t kids anymore) came to visit before Easter. They were relieved to see that my average speed at that time was 34 mph. Ha Ha Ha. Silly kids. I need to ask the dealership to disconnect that feature next week. Otherwise, it might be a keyless journey of “Off to the Home” for me.

With the weather still unpredictable and very cold, I’m stuck at my desk while planning my next road trip. Summer 2023. MM, Me, and PAGES. Let the adventure begin. No worries. We have unlimited miles.

More tomorrow.

Lately I’ve been asked to accompany a variety of friends to the Biggest Little City to the West for medical appointments. When asked, I’m happy to oblige. Heaven only knows when it’ll be my turn to seek medical help. It’s wasn’t my turn today, so I was free to help.

This, my dearest best friend is someone so special to me, my heart would break if the outcome of any of these tests were anything but perfect. Although a little more mature than me, this person is the picture of health, energy, and a positive heart. For any problem, this person knows a perfect solution can surely be found. This person is positivity cloaked in human form. A real optimist and a most wonderful friend.

I wasn’t able to tell if these tests were a worry to my friend, but they certainly have been worrying me. For those of you that are new readers, let me fill you in. I lost my husband, VST, in April, 2020 to a rare cancer called Cholangiocarcinoma. In regular English, this is a cancer that attacks the bile ducts. It’s quick, violent, and deadly. VST’s battle lasted only 9 weeks. He was fine until he was dead, with very little in between.

The first test the doctor ordered for VST was an echo-cardiogram to rule out heart disease when fluid began to accumulate in his belly. If only it would have been caused by a treatable disease. For VST, it wasn’t.

When my friend told me of the two tests, a lung CT and an ultrasound right down the road from another hospital that I know all too well, it did give me cause for pause. As a new patient, these tests were ordered to establish baseline results. “Nothing to worry about,” said my friend. My mind had long since left the barn on that one. I’ve been worried ever since I found out about yesterday’s scans.

The waiting room was pristine and pleasant. The television show was about a young veterinarian working in the Yukon. She was busy treating coyotes and musk oxen. I was full of worry.

Not wanting to sit with anyone while my friend went in for the scans, I chose a seat-for-one next to a charging station. I would close my eyes and pray quietly, hoping no one would want to strike up a conversation about their own illnesses and ailments.

Taking a seat in the corner, I looked to the side only to be shocked at what I saw. There, all alone, lay one tiny pamphlet. On the cover of the pamphlet was the word, “Joy”. My name. Under that, the words read “How to Find Happiness in Everyday Living.” My friend had already gone back for testing. There was no one to show or tell. I picked up the booklet and began to read.

It had already been earmarked for me. The booklet fell open to page 12.

“Give God Your Worries”

Plain.

And.

Simple.

“Give God Your Worries.”

Just like that, I felt better. Lighter. Happier. Amazed that such a small little miracle had been waiting there, just for me. A reminder. We need to Let Go and Let God when life gets to be a little too overwhelming.

I’ll share the final paragraph of the earmarked chapter. As if written to me and placed for me to find yesterday morning, I hope that it helps you remember something. At our loneliest times, when it seems we are all alone, we most certainly are not.

“So, don’t be anxious. Don’t fret so much. Don’t struggle so hard. Do the very best you can about everything; then, having done your best, don’t nervously do it over again. Leave the results to the Lord. He is all wise, all knowing, and all powerful. And, he loves you very much.” _{(Guideposts Outreach — From the Writings of Norman Vincent Peale)}

Miracles. They are everywhere. Little bits of truth for us to discover, even in a place as dark as a waiting room in a major hospital in the Biggest Little City just to the west of a dusty little wide spot in the road off the interstate on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada. The place I love and call Home.

While having a wonderful weekend, keep watching for miracles. I promise. They are everywhere!

I’ll be back Monday.

The desert is finally in bloom. With all the winter snow and rain, the plants here at Winterpast are sprouting even though they haven’t done well in the past. Saturday, MM and I went to each tree to identify them with the use of an phone app. The phone becomes a more important part of life each day, doesn’t it?.

The app, “Picture This”, works this way. You open the app and point your phone’s camera toward the plant. It takes a photo and tells you all about the plant. I learned the type of apple and cherry trees I have. I own a Chinese plum. The messiest tree in the backyard is the Crab Apple tree. Pretty for one week, nasty for the rest of the summer and fall. I also learned that I have berries that are blue, but they aren’t called Blue Berries.

By using this application, you can find necessary information to help your plant thrive. Last year, I didn’t pay much attention to the back yard. Other than keeping it weed free, pruned and mowed, life at Winterpast went on without a lot of real gardening. This year will be different.

MM is the REAL gardener. He knows stuff that, (I’m embarrassed to say), I never learned after a lifetime growing up on a farm AND farming for 17 years. MM is a Master Gardener. Watching him plant is a thing of beauty. Lovingly, he unpots his seedlings, carefully inspecting them for signs of bound roots. He digs his holes carefully and places his plants ever so gently into his garden boxes. Generous with the feed and water, MM’s garden boxes are thriving. Garlic, onions, peas, tomatoes, cucumbers, flowers, and more.

Now, here at Winterpast, if the plants make it through the days of neglect before planting, they get plopped in the quickly dug holes, sprinkled, and are left to figure things out. I need to do better.

My biggest problem has been the intricate sprinker box.

Really??????? This is really, really, really my box. When calculating all the possible settings, I came up with 1,972,423 possible combinations. Well, okay. You got me. I’m not that good at math, but just look at all those switches and dials!

Although my box is very similar to the one pictured, mine has a C cycles. Then, it has 12 stations. It needs to run twice a day, but not on Station 3 and 4, because the front lawn was removed long ago. There are directional questions like this…… Just why is the North Flowerbed labeled NORTH when it sits to the WEST of the driveway? All these things were already labeled when I acquired Winterpast. All these things are major puzzlements.

Add one little dog that loves to eat emitters, and you might now understand, there is a time to sprinkle and a time to throw up one’s hands and leave the system for another day.

Troubleshooting your system is a perfect task to tackle this week. Although MM might disagree, my method seems to have kept the plants alive for three years now.

1. Turn your system to manual and start with Station #1. Go for a walk about and find the running water. Check each emitter for clogs or animal damage. Check the amount of water that is coming out of the line. Does the plant look wilted or is it drowing? Adjust accordingly.
2. While checking the plants, check for leaks along the line.
3. Continue with the remaining stations.

Lawn sprinkler heads can become clogged after a long, quiet winter. If they are not spraying nicely, go to You Tube and watch a few videos on unclogging sprinkler heads. With a vice grip, a needle-nose plyer, and patience, I was victorious. Some heads have filters and some don’t. Adjust the sprinklers to make sure the entire lawn is getting water.

Don’t forget to weed and feed.

Now, for the last bit of advice. If you haven’t been to the garden center to make your first purchases of the year, be aware. At our Lowe’s, the average sized garden plants are $10 and up. Some are as much as $25 a piece. A nice size potted arrangement was over $60. This is for normal flowering plants. My geraniums? $10 each. Spices? $4 for $12. These are small little plants that used to be $1.59. No more is gardening an inexpensive hobby. Our world is such a different place these days.

Whatever you do today, plant something. Seeds are great, too. Just remember to follow the directions on the package. There is nothing better than fresh cherry tomatoes on a hot summer day. The garden……to avoid the shrink, go there to think.

More tomorrow.

Winterpast is my home. I must admit, never did I have any interest in naming a home before I moved here. As a brand new widow, the name “Winterpast” embodied the life that I hoped would come to me. I had to hold onto faith that at some point, grief would become bearable while my winter would slowly pass. Widowhood is more bleak and barren than the most miserable winter on record without any change of seasons for awhile. Just barren winter. VST and I went from the Autumn of our lives to the winter of mine in very few days.

The name “Winterpast” can be found in a little book by Jan Karon called “At Home in Mitford”. Such a sweet read, it was one that caught my attention in my second month of Widowhood all alone in my new little town. Covid lockdowns were still in place. The inspiration comes from the Song of Solomon, Chapter 2: “The winter is past; the rains are over and gone. Flowers appear on the earth. The season of singing has come. The cooing of doves is heard in our land.”

My own Bible has a misprint in which the singing of turtles can be heard throughout the land. Personally, I love the singing turtle idea. I think the printer forgot the word “doves” after, which is also nice. (But not as nice as singing turtles, in my humble opinion.)

Yes. It’s true. My winter, both figuratively and literally, has passed for now. Spring is here and the gardens of Winterpast need to sparkle at night.

I was surprised to find our little Grocery Outlet was a well stocked with affordable solar garden lighting.

These little discs are now inserted into planters to shine on some smaller plants. They would also be great along a path way, The spike in the back holds them in place.

These little solar lights are the size of an old fashioned light bulb. Caution — The solar doesn’t work well when one little dog manages to find a way to chew through the wires. Whatever am I to do with this little brat? At any rate, these are hanging in the trees here at Winterpast. The control boxes are now zip-tied to the branches. Oh Oliver, when will you ever grow up???

These were the most expensive of my lighting project ($6.99 – 19.00 each), but they also create the most drama. The apricot tree is sporting a soft glow after dark these days. I used three lights on her. The rest of the big trees are also lit.

Twinkle stakes — $11.99 each.

Every yard needs a little twinkle. The LED lights are woven with copper wire so you can arrange them any way you like. Again, they are solar powered.

These lights are controlled by Alexa. They are dimmable, and turned on with a simple request. “Alexa, turn on back lights.” Voila! They turn on. Ask her and she’ll turn them off before bed. An Alexa friendly outdoor plug is required, which can be found for purchase on Amazon or at any hardware store.

As the summer goes on, I plan to add more soft lighting to the gardens. It hasn’t gone without notice by the neighbors. Ninja Neighbor sent a text right away to let me know the gardens look magical. Yes. Winterpast does. Just like something from a romantic movie.

The credit for starting this little project goes to my Mysterious Marine. Without his thoughtful gift, I might not have ever gotten around to hanging garden lights. Now, it’s my job to fill in with all sorts of cool lighting.

Whatever you do today, think about lighting and how it affects your moods. The garden lighting has added a new dimension to the back yard. Go out back and think on it awhile.

More tomorrow.

Some days its hard to know what has happened to our world. Life is turned upside down and the dogs are definitely running the show. At least, it was like that at my house until I got the upper handle on Ollie’s inside behavior. Since I returned to top dog status, his behavior has gotten much more acceptable. He has his bed and there are boundaries in this the house that is mine, not his. At least I like to believe that at least once a day.

Many years ago, while living in the Central Valley of California, I used a kennel when VST and I would travel to Hawaii. Not for the farm dogs, but for the little piece of lint named Freckles. He was just too small to leave alone.

In the early 2000’s, Elaine’s Animal Hotel was one of the first to have a lobby and registration desk, just like a human hotel. With soft music and muted colors in the lobby, it felt as if you were checking into a plush resort for humans.

“And will Freckles being enjoying water play with his new friends?”

Of course, daily water play was another $5. Each additional activity added $5 to the bill. Massages were an additional $10. Freckles enjoyed the standard stay. $20 a day at that time. Food wasn’t included at that price. Wanting to the do the best for my furry friend, that was the choice of kennels.

Oliver enjoys great living conditions when he goes to puppy camp. There is free swimming, lots of play time, and sometimes photos on Facebook. There are always holiday dinners and lots of ear scratches. Oliver’s vet is just next door to the kennel, which makes using them the logical choice.

After Ollie’s last puppy camp adventure, in which he found a new girlfriend, the camp director came up with stunning new.

“Joy, Ollie visits us regularly. If you could send us your dates through December it would be a great idea. Thanksgiving is already booked.”

This is only April. Thanksgiving is booked? Sir Oliver of Ashworth Hall is on a waiting list?????? For puppy camp?????? That’s how things are these days in the world of dog services.

Wookie has been waiting patiently for her haircut since the wook-lets left her for their Fur-ever homes. All are happily adopted, one even having been personally delivered by a granddaughter to the East Coast at the new owner’s expense. I couldn’t make this up if I tried.

Anyway, shaggy Wookie has a heavy woolen coat that needs to be removed. MM waited two months for the appointment. Eight weeks! The night before he received a phone call that the groomer has gone on vacation and will call when she returns. Just like that. Poof. Mop shop appointment? Cancelled.

There are three groomers in our little town. One receives rave reviews, being the shop of choice. All three shops are full. No more customers accepted at this time. It seems Wookie is out of luck as her hair grows day by day.

Long gone are the days when a human vacation popped up and you could get a last minute appointment at the kennel. Oliver has his vacations scheduled through January 2, 2004. It’s easy to cancel a reservation. You can’t make one when there are no vacancies.

Of course, there is the option of hiring someone to watch Oliver at home. Considering the fact that twice he’s run out the door to bark at the neighbor without looking back even once, that option isn’t safe for him.

There is the option of buying a set of trimmers and beautifying Wookie ourselves. That might be the way we need to go. She is in need, indeed.

To this. MM, I think we could do this.

If you are considering a new career, you might consider pet services. Doggie Day Care. Puppy Camp. Grooming. Life is going to the dogs. Long gone are the days of the farm dog that took care of its own needs while protecting his family. The farm dogs of the ranch were legendary. Mastiffs. No fluff and buff needed for those guys. Forty lbs. of kibble a week and they were good to go.

Whatever you do today, consider your activities for the next six months. If you are a dog owner planning time away, book your kennel stay early. There just might not be a room at the Inn if you don’t.

More tomorrow.

Six years ago, while teaching 5th grade at a little country school to the west of here, my life was quite different. VST was quite healthy and alive. I was teaching 27 kids about reading, math, and writing in cursive. Elementary school was still a normal and fun environment in which to teach. It was our third year of life in Virginia City, Nevada and the year I “met” Carlene White.

I intend to meet her in person one day. Just take my rental car and drive right on over to Ipswich to a place she’s named Crazy Acres. I may decide to stay awhile and volunteer there. With over 50 Great Danes, chickens, guinea hens, cows, goats, and donkeys, she’s always got jobs for those that decide to drop in.

Carlene is a study in “Doing Good” when you don’t know what else to do. When she was in her early 70’s, she decided to raise Great Danes as service dogs for people with mobility issues. Not just any Great Danes. Not embarrassingly thin and scrawny Great Danes. Much of her breeding stock is from Europe. She breeds sound and stable Great Danes that, when done with her training, will do anything asked of them. Anything.

You can meet her for yourself. Her non-profit is “Service Dog Project”(Servicedogproject.org). You can also watch her farm through a live feed at Explore.org. At this time, a brand new litter of 12 is thriving under the minute to minute care of volunteers.

Carlene isn’t well these days. She’s had to slow down and hand the reins over to another and is battling through the final days of her life. Don’t feel to bad, because this woman is assessing her skills and abilities to best utilize her talents. Along with a daily blog, she has decided it will be her job to bring happiness to 100 people a week.

Now, you might ask just how someone makes 100 people a day happy???? Carlene came up with a brilliant idea.

At Crazy Acres, her Service Dog Pups (150 pound pups) need exposure to the outside world. They need road trips where they can meet and greet lots of new people. People that look scary riding on wheels and walking with sticks. People that haven’t smiled in a very long time. Old, wrinkly people that sometimes smell a little funny. People that need assistance with living.

Carlene could choose to sit right down and die tomorrow. She could stay in her robe all day while sitting by the window to cry. On her blog, she could host a pity party for herself and anyone that wants to join her. But, no. Not Carlene.

She get up every morning, (and some days that’s a struggle at 85), gets her driver and her three best friends (who happen to be Great Danes) and the puppy (Pasta is his name), and off they go. Carlene is visiting as many assisted living centers in her area as she can each week. They wait for her to get there. She and her crew bring life, laughs, and hundreds of pounds of dogs complete with kisses. The best kind of medicine there is.

Having read and watched Carlene for so many years now, it still amazes me that she runs the place on chicken poop. Each month, she sells “chicken bricks”. For $10, you can buy a square with a number. One Sunday a month, her chickens are televised as they are tenderly placed on a huge checker board with 2,000 numbers. The first numbered square that gets dirtied wins bragging rights for the month. Carlene funds her ranch with the $20,000 a month this raises. She’s never had a month in which she didn’t sell out the bricks.

Through Carlene, I’ve learned so much about the feeding and training of dogs. Her dogs eat kibble donated by Purina and delivered by semi-trucks every so often.

Her dogs are also famous. You can look it up for yourself. The most famous pair is Bella and George.

Bella is a young woman now, but she was a girl who was losing the ability to walk when she found Crazy Acres and Carlene. Bella volunteered. (Bella, who was losing her ability to walk. VOLUNTEERED. At the Ranch.) She really wanted a dog and Carlene agreed that she would benefit from one. But, there was a little problem.

In Carlene’s program, the dog chooses the person it will help. No dog would choose Bella. No dog even liked Bella. They would avoid her. Day after day. No dog for Bella. Until one day, George looked around and decided if no one else would do it, he would. Bella has been walking ever since with the help of George. (Bella and George — Facebook).

Then, there was Scott Aubin, an Air Force Veteran, who showed up at Carlene’s after a failed suicide attempt. Carlene fixed him up with his service dog. Read his book, Knot Today. If you’re interested, there are plenty of You-Tube videos about his story.

Carlene continues to work in the golden hours of her life. She doesn’t waste a lot of time feeling sorry for herself. She just gets up and does good in the world. We would all benefit from doing a little of that ourselves. If we could all make five people smile today, the world would truly be brighter.

Whatever today brings, remember to be Smiler #1. Say “Hello” to someone that needs a friendly word. Call a “shut-in”. Be kind to the tired Walmart associate. Listen to an elder’s stories. Be in the moment. The world needs some happiness today.

For Today,

Forget about your sorrow,

There’ll be time for that tomorrow.

Walking through a widow’s mile,

Find and share your beautiful smile.

Just do it.

More tomorrow.

The Dash
_{by Linda Ellis}

I read of a man who stood to speak at the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on the tombstone from the beginning to the end.

He noted first came the date of the birth and spoke the following date with tears.
But he said what mattered most of all was the dash between the years.

For that dash represents all the time that they spent life on Earth.
And now only those who loved them know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not how much we own, the cars, the house, the cash.
What matters is how we live and love, and how we spend our dash.

So, think about this long and hard. Are there things you’d like to change?
For you never know how much time is left that can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough to consider what’s true and real,
and always try to understand the way other people feel.

Be less quick to anger and show appreciation more,
and love the people in our lives like we’ve never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect and more often wear a smile,
remembering that this special dash might only last a little while.

So, when your eulogy is being read with your life’s actions to rehash,
would you be proud of the things they say about how you spent your dash?

This weekend, try not to dash around too much. Take time to breathe deeply and enjoy the spring air. Think about the dash in which you are living right this very moment. Are you making it count? Are you loving the life you’re living and living the life you’re loving? If not, it’s time to make a change! It’s all up to you!

Have a wonderful weekend. I’ll be back on Monday!