Category: 2024

Goodness gracious, this beautiful weather has me feeling the effects of Spring Fever. Sunday, the thermometer reached 69 degrees and yesterday, they climbed into the 60’s. With seeds germinating on my dining room table, it’s hard not to believe it’s already Spring 2024. The reality is that we have 49 more days to go.

In a few days, we’ll be suffering through high winds again, and true winter will return. Snow, rain, and a possible need for tire-chains over Donner Pass. Until then, I’ll enjoy every outdoor moment I can.

On the way to the Walmart to the East yesterday, HHH and I noticed that the weather is affecting locals in the same way. Ninja Neighbor was outside watering with her hose, while the neighbor across the street was pruning her bushes. The California neighbor was giving her plants a shot of Miracle Grow. It was then I asked the Master Gardener in the car an important question.

Does he prefer to water during dormancy or not. The answer was No. A dose of Miracle Grow at the wrong time of year coupled with some extra sunshine could cause early budding. With winter winds, rain, and snow, early sprouts and seeds wouldn’t survive.

On the western side of the Sierra Nevada mountain range , almond and fruit trees will bloom throughout the next month. In the early 2000’s, California fruit and nut farmers started hosting “The Blossom Trail”. Many small farms across the San Joaquin Valley banded together to welcome visitors during early spring. It’s a great time to visit different farms, some of them opening stands to sell a little of this or that. Springtime in California is a beautiful thing to behold, in spite of what you hear about the craziness of the big cities. Farmers are farmers wherever they may be located.

Are you experiencing a false spring in your area? Don’t believe it for a minute. Just enjoy the warm, sunny days you get. The high desert plains of northwestern Nevada receive 23 random days of sunny skies during the winter season, according to the internet. These aren’t to to be confused with many more days of serious winter.

If you must, water your bushes and trees, but don’t fertilize. It’s a great time to plant seeds inside your home or greenhouse. Just be sure they receive some sunlight and stay warm.

Your houseplants would always enjoy a little vacation outside should the weather turn nice. Just don’t place them in direct sunshine and remember to bring them back inside before the sun sets. While they’re outside, you can certainly wash them off and houseplants can always use a shot of fertilizer.

A nice warm day is a good time to organize your gardening supplies and tools. If your shovels and hoes need sharpening, a Dremel is a great little tool to use after watching a few U-Tube videos before beginning. As with anything, you can pick up tips and tricks for any garden projects you may want to tackle.

When winter days return, I’ll turn my attention to my solar lights which are in need of cleaning and new batteries. All solar gadgets for the yard need new batteries from time to time. You’ll need a screwdriver and some rechargeable batteries. Take your device apart and replace batteries with the same kind. Do NOT use alkaline batteries. They MUST be rechargeable which can be found at any hardware store or Amazon.

Whatever you decide to do today, enjoy being at peace with the weather you’re experiencing. There can be too much of a good thing. In the middle of summer, we’ll all be wishing for the cloudy skies of winter. It’s just the way things go.

More tomorrow.

Fifty one years ago, I was an intelligent and pretty high school girl with “Marcia Brady” hair. I liked blue jeans, Biology, hoodies, and my boyfriend, Derrick. Six months older than me on that Wednesday evening, he occupied much more of my brain than he should’ve. The heart wants what the heart wants, especially at seventeen.

That evening was just like any other in my life. My parents were ten years older than those of most of my friends. They had long since forgotten the excitement of high school wrestling matches or basketball games. As farmers, they’d been up since dark:30, and would need to stay up that night to retrieve me from the high school, just six miles south of the ranch. The wrestling match would be over by 9.

My parents themselves had fallen in love at that very high school in 1937, so I never understood how they couldn’t accept that I’d fallen in love, too. Derrick was a year behind me in the grade that I should’ve been in had I not skipped 1st.

As with any young relationship, ours was dramatic and serious. We were making plans for our forever, and I was deep in thought about those plans while gulping down a quick dinner early that evening. Following strict rules, I’d completed my homework and ironed my outfit for the next day. Grabbing our jackets, we walked toward the door, interrupted by the ring of the telephone.

In the 1900’s, all phones were hard-wired. At our house, the phone hung right about the ranch desk with a designated chair for longer calls or book work. Of course, there were no long calls because you were wired to the wall in plain site of the dinner table. There, prying eyes and listening ears would take everything they heard and use it against the sister that was receiving a call. Especially if it was from a B-O-Y.

My father took the call, speaking in a very low tune. Strange as it was, the only thing I could hear him say was “I’ll tell her.” Life was about to transform me from a silly school girl into a grieving young woman.

January 31, 1973. 5:00 pm. Derrick was dead.

When my father told me, my mother immediately insisted that I take two aspirin. Who knows the thinking behind that? To her, it just seemed another thing to insist upon. I declined and sat down to think about whether this could be true. I’d be meeting him at 7:00 pm for a secret kiss and then he’d be off to get ready for his match.

Derrick was 5’10”, 174 lbs., muscular and strong as an ox. He’d never been sick a day since I’d met him. Cleared by the sports doctor to participate in team events, none of this made any sense. He’d been the picture of health.

Earlier in the day, Derrick became unwell after sweltering in a sweat suit to shed water weight and make his weight class. The school nurse was busy filling in for the cafeteria ladies, so she’d called me out of class to sit with him while she tried to reach his mother. As we sat together, his skin tone turned from stark white to bright red. We watched the rhythmic change as the two of us, a couple of scared kids, waited for his mother to take him home.

“Mrs. Wilson, you need to pick up your son. Here in the nurse’s office, he’s become quite ill”, the nurse informed his mom.

“Sorry. I’m in the middle of a perm. Can’t leave. He can take the bus and walk home like usual “, replied the hairdressing mom. Click.

Sorry.

I’m.

In.

The.

Middle.

Of.

A.

Perm.

“Wow”. We both just said Wow.

Walking Derrick to the bus, I did manage to touch his cheek before he boarded the bus. He’d ride for thirty minutes and then walk the 1/4 mile to his front door. There, he’d rest until it was time to get ready for his match. He dropped dead in the hallway while fighting with his mom about attending the wrestling match. In the middle of an ugly argument, he was gone.

February 1, instead of taking my math test, I chose the clothes for his funeral. A “Funky Groovy Threads” shirt I’d given him on Christmas, just the month before, corduroy pants, and his favorite boots. My Senior ring on his finger, he was buried in front grieving friends and teachers he loved so much. Even now, I still remember the smell the flowers covering the front of Stephen’s and Bean’s Funeral home. Funeral flowers just smell different.

The rest of my Senior year couldn’t have been worse. People have a hard time dealing with a death of the young. It’s much easier to avoid the topic and carry on as if nothing ever happened, even when everyone knew it did. On a beautiful June evening, I graduated with honors, in spite of a broken heart.

From time to time, I think of the young grief-filled woman that was me. If only I’d known then what I know now, things would have gone better. The stages of grief hadn’t yet been identified, but I experienced them all anyway. I spent way too many afternoons sitting near his headstone at Mountain View Cemetery. It was as good a place as any to complete college homework.

Whatever the age, losing a loved one is one of the worst times in a human’s life. Even after 51 years, that young grief-filled woman remains close to my heart. I hug myself every January 31st and remind myself that the grief did pass and a beautiful life did follow.

Whatever you do today, remember someone that’s experiencing a loss. Take some time to listen as they tell you about their loved one. Tell someone about the person you lost. It’s a beautiful way to keep their memory alive.

More tomorrow.

Yesterday, I made progress towards turning our garden shed into a picture of sanitary beauty. A work in progress for sure! Blending two overloaded garden sheds into one is like working a 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzle. And we’ve only just begun.

An important chore I’ll tackle today is a chemical inventory. It seems that a real Master Gardener has many elixirs and potions designed to cure all kinds of problems. In my old life, I used two products. Rose food and Miracle Grow.

New to Winterpast in the spring of 2020, I possessed many things from my the past. Two gallon jugs holding farm grade Round-Up and Surflan were hold overs from my days of farming. Back in the day, all herbicides were FDA approved for use in vineyards and orchards. Having saved many things from the ranch, these two jugs came along for the ride. I had no intention of using either.

Along the road to my house, I noticed an interesting piece of property. There, the owner had planted an entire grove of cottonwood trees, native to our area. Along with the 80 trees in his front yard, he’d developed dirt roads and walkways covered with young tumbleweeds (also native to our area).

My plan was a simple one. I’d write a note complimenting his forest and then ask if he could use my farm grade chemicals for weed erradication. A win-win. He’d apply the chemicals according to the label and they wouldn’t live in my garage any longer. Sure enough, he took the bait and I delivered the two jugs of chemicals to him.

From time to time, I still use pre-mixed Round-Up in the drainage ditch running in front of my house. When you live in the country, weeds seeds blow in from all directions. Because of the huge tumbleweed problem, many home owners hire a company to chemically sterilize the soil. This winter, I joined their ranks.

When April comes, we’ll need to be sure that anything sprayed is bee-safe. That doesn’t include most insecticides now sitting in our garden shed. Out with the old and in with safe and natural solutions for fungus and insect pests.

We have more shovels and rakes that two people should own in a lifetime. Two lawn mowers, multiple weed eaters, an assortment of pruning shears and saws. As the growing season begins, the garden shed will need weeding, too. Just a list of never-ending fun!

This week, the garden is growing on our dining room table. Everything planted just a week ago is now stretching towards the window. HHH questioned the number of seedlings I’ve planted. I guess it goes with Spring Fever! There could never be too many cherry tomatoes in any summer garden. The spaghetti sauce we made from the garden tomatoes was the best I’ve ever eaten. I predict lots of canning this summer.

Whatever you do today, find some time to pamper yourself with a nice cup of cocoa, coffee, or tea. Take time to watch an old movie or get caught up with a favorite television program. Learn something new on the internet. Just have some fun with whatever you choose! As for me, I’ll be sitting here waiting for real Spring sunshine to arrive.

More tomorrow.

Coming from a long line of farmers, I inherited responsibility and drive to stay busy. I developed a strong work ethic at a young age. Every adult I knew during those formative years complained there wasn’t enough time in the day to finish their chores. From planting the gardens, to hanging out the wash and ironing the laundry, the list of chores went on and on.

At school, my teachers struggled, as well. They spent hours standing in front of the mimeograph machine, turning the handle by hand to create copies from a stencil. As a beginning teacher in 1996, I learned to use this type of machine. Websites with adorably cute worksheets to print off by the hundreds weren’t available. Everything was done manually, down to the sharpening sharpening of wooden pencils.

In the 1900’s, no such thing as continuous entertainment existed, with television broadcasting limited to certain hours. There were three stations in my town, those being ABC, NBC, and CBS, none offering 24/7 news feed. Beginning at 6 am, the Pledge of Allegiance was followed by the National Anthem. Next came the news, and throughout the day some addictive and poorly acted shows called Soap Operas played on. Long after I’d been sent to bed, Taps played to end the day.

With no cellphones, a call in the night meant there was a real problem. A relative had become sick or a neighbor needed help gathering up some loose cows. Life was peaceful without listening devices glowing with their blue-light screens.

Growing up in those quiet days, Turning off the day was easier. “Give it to God, and Go to Sleep”. Finishing her day with a crossword puzzle or good book at the kitchen table, my mother would wait for my dad to come in after last minute chores.

Today, downtime is harder to find. Here at Winterpast, we have complete connection to the business of life. We can shop 24/7 on Amazon for anything we might possibly need in life. Today, the news reported that Gen-Z’ers are buying tiny homes to place in their parent’s back yards. Oy. Vey. You’ve got to love Amazon. Free shipping for an entire house!

Technology has made it easier to accomplish more in a day. Turbo Tax takes the guesswork out of taxes with artificial intelligence asking all the important questions. Our printer scans and faxes wirelessly. Answering machines are built right into our phones , along with a camera to capture every adorable moment in life.

After our Covid quarantine, many people now work at home. No more expensive clothing and lunch dates. People could work in their pajamas from 8 to 5, avoiding the subway or crowded freeway. Just roll out of bed and right into work mode. Now, the safest place one could unwind doubles as the office. Instead of working 5 days a week, some are now on call 24/7. This sets the stage for major burnout after a few years. Possessions one has worked to own create a giant prison from which there is no escape.

In retirement, HHH and I have only found one minor problem. Employed for decades, we were plenty busy from Monday through Friday. Come the weekend, the time was ours to enjoy. Now retired, every day is the same. It’s important to purposely plan a portion of each day for rest and relaxation. As Auntie TJ reminds us all, laziness is an artform that must be practiced to perfection.

As this weekend unfolds, remember that most offices and banks close Friday at 5pm. They don’t open until Monday morning. Even the IRS sleeps on the weekend. Take time away from worry to rest your brain. Remember, for peace of mind, resign as general manager of the universe.

Have a great weekend! I’ll be back Monday!

These days, HHH and I find ourselves covered by all sorts of blessings. Last week, a brother-in-law (one of four), called to invite us to Friday night dinner. It’s been awhile since we’ve been on a date because HHH creates a variety of wonderful meals. From Chicken Cordon Bleu to Steak and Lobster, the man can cook. A change in pace is always fun, so we accepted the invitation.

In 2020, a widow alone, I knew only two people. Now blessed with a beautiful family, I appreciate the love and adoration in my big new family. Manly men, all, their mom raised her boys right. A band of five adult men that actually love each other! In my limited experience with families, finding one in which all members get along is a rarity indeed.

After a week of texting, we decided to meet at The Oyster Bar just thirty minutes to the west. An old time establishment, it’s been a family favorite for decades. Instead of a table for ten, we’d need one for six, as The Mayor and The Coach had previous engagements.

Worried about appearances on this first family outing, HHH reminded me anything this side of my wedding dress would be great. In the wild, wild, west of 2024, sequins and sparkles are few and far between. HHH would wear his Christmas Pendleton, a grey Fedora, and jeans. I found an outfit that played that played well off his. Fixing my hair and makeup was an exciting beginning to the wonderful evening yet to come.

Dressed warmly in black pants, sweater, tall UGG’s and black wool coat, we were out the door to pick up Little Bro and his wife. On the way into town, it was nice to visit with my “Kentucky Rose” sis. She always makes sure everyone feels love and warmth. Her enchanting accent just melts the heart. Lil Bro would be the first to tell you he’s a lucky man to have her as his wife.

Although the big casino was nearly empty, The Oyster Bar Restaurant was hopping. While our group enjoyed all things fishy and delicious, we caught up on the latest news. The Middle Bro and his wife are wintering in Arizona where the temperatures have been hovering in the 70’s. As the oldest brother, HHH, checked on everyone. Intelligent conversation always extends a dinner party, and Friday night was no different. The evening ended too soon and it was time to head back home to our dusty little wide spot in the road on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada.

During our time together, new plans formed. There’ll be a retreat in mid-September full of family, fishing and fun. Idaho better get ready, because the brothers and their wives are coming to town. And, just like that, my life has transformed into a happy one full of family, friends, and love. What a journey through a dark and dangerous wilderness it’s been! The brilliant light of love that surrounds me is the most magnificent blessing of all!

While studying the Bible yesterday, a question fit perfectly with the beautiful weekend I’d enjoyed.

What guided the Israelites through the wilderness?

Faith in spite of fear.

Perseverance in spite of fear.

Obedience in spite of fear.

Hope in spite of fear.

Love in spite of fear.

Traveling through the wilderness of widowhood, I depended on all those tools for guidance in spite of total fear and heartbreak. What a powerful journey it’s been! It IS possible to get through the worst situations by taking just one step at a time.

Whatever you do today, take some time to focus on faith, perseverance, obedience, hope, and love. Essential tools to help you through difficult times.

More tomorrow.

I’ve enjoyed a life long girl crush on Miss Mitchell. Joni and I have been through stuff together while she remains the one artist I’ve followed since 1973. As my personal imaginary friend and mentor, her very real words remind me to remain strong in the face of storms. Joni knows a thing or two about life’s storms.

I discovered her my freshman year in college. “Court and Spark” was an album that carried me through many flourishing and broken relationships. The one constant was her words. Many times over I’d return to her lyrics. Magically, her words soothed my babies to sleep or helped the housework or laundry be less annoying. She was along for every three hour drive to the beach. Joni and Joy. We’ve been through it all.

After four long college years, we became even closer while I spent many long months in Tiraspol, Moldavia, USSR. Listening through unending hours of solitude, every single note of her “Court and Spark” album was memorized. In that God-forsaken land, during that intensely lonely time, her words became etched onto my heart. To this day, the notes and lyrics of her songs stop me in my tracks.

Alone as a young woman-child of 21, I experienced a harrowing train trip through several communist countries. While on the REAL Orient Express, I lived the next song in real time! Joni and Joy, clickety-clacking through dangerous lands with the moon and the stars to read.

As the years rolled on, VST and I attended way too many “People’s Parties”, always throwing lightness on the sadness while laughing it all away.

People’s Party — Joni Mitchell

All the people at this party
They’ve got a lot of style
They’ve got stamps of many countries
They’ve got passport smiles
Some are friendly
Some are cutting
Some are watching it from the wings
Some are standing in the centre
Giving to get something

Photo beauty gets attention
Then her eye paint’s running down
She’s got a rose in her teeth
And a lampshade crown
One minute she’s so happy
Then she’s crying on someone’s knee
Saying laughing and crying
You know it’s the same release

I told you when I met you
I was crazy
Cry for us all, beauty
Cry for Eddie in the corner
Thinking he’s nobody
And Jack behind his joker
And stone-cold Grace behind her fan
And me in my frightened silence
Thinking I don’t understand

I feel like I’m sleeping
Can you wake me
You seem to have a broader sensibility
I’m just living on nerves and feelings
With a weak and a lazy mind
And coming to peoples parties
Fumbling deaf dumb and blind

I wish I had more sense of humour
Keeping the sadness at bay
Throwing the lightness on these things

Laughing it all away

At different times in my life, I, too, have suffered from the weak and lazy mind while standing in frightened silence thinking I don’t understand. Just a profound and deep connection between Joni and Joy.

Over the decades she soothed my nerves as I waited for far too many “Cars on the Hill”.

Joni has nineteen studio albums from which to choose. In 2015, a brain aneurism became testament to her courage. Dig deeper into her life and you’ll find she suffered far more tragic losses while always managing to heal stronger through her grief. She found her way to the top of the world of entertainment long before the “Me, Too” movement had become a thing. She’s all the stronger for her battle scars.

While looking through her music, I found the last song I’ll share with you. I’ll I ever wanted was to come in from the cold. I think many in the world could say the very same thing.

Forever she’ll be My Joni.

More tomorrow.

The world is full of one crisis after another these days. Just turn on the news for a moment and you’ll find hundreds of stories too horrendous to believe. The sad thing is, most are at least partly true. Crimes play on video just moments after they’re committed. Watching too much of this dulls the senses and cripples the soul with sadness. There is an On/Off button on the remote for good reason.

This morning, there is one very funny headline important to me because great mornings start with a belly laugh. Nevada held the Presidential Primary yesterday. There was only one current candidate on our ballot with a handful of others that had already quit. Just one person that was crowing about a sure win.

What the candidate didn’t consider was a little checkable box called “None of these Candidates”. Well, this poor soul lost the State of Nevada (NOT PRONOUNCED Ne-VAH’-dah for those of you that don’t know) to NONE OF THESE CANDIDATES by 33%!!!!!!

Oy.

Vey.

To make things more confusing, tomorrow night, there will be a state caucus in which people will wait in the cold to meet from 5 – 7:30. The results of this vote will determine the winner of state delegates for the upcoming election with the winner taking all. Each voter will be checked for ID and then write their choice on a paper ballot. The results will be interesting.

Other than a person loosing to “None of the Above” in a battleground state, the news remains something I love to turn OFF.

Yesterday, I spent quiet time shopping in our little town. Although not the most glamorous group of stores, I found what I was looking for at every stop. Long gone are the days when one could go to any store and find the needed item on the first try. HHH and I have been searching for Glass-Top Stove Cleaner. Having used this product for years, it was always found nestled on a shelf with the cleaning supplies. Suddenly, there is no room on the shelf for this product anymore. So it is with many products when you live amidst the tumbleweeds on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada.

Friends have often asked where the hub of our town lies? Although there’s a street called “Main”, it also doubles as a highway. There are no retail shopping centers other than the one that’s home to our Walmart. Yet, every time I’ve gone to look for specific things, I find them. They’re just not all in one spot, and sometimes, found in very unlikely stores.

Yesterday, it was at our hardware store that I found the Glass-Top stove cleaner. At our Dollar Tree, the deal of the day was on heavy gloves, beanies, and scarves. With the weather returning to winter, (appropriate but sad), these items will help some less fortunate people as they travel through our town.

The associate asked if I was buying them for gifts. Well? Yes. Gifts for some friends I haven’t met yet. I explained our church mission to “Warm one heart at a time”.

“We have a man that sleeps behind our building every night. It’s so bitterly cold…….” Her voice fell away as she finished my transaction. Perhaps I planted a seed? For $3.75, she could make things just a little better for the man behind the building. There are so many things we could all do to make life a tiny bit better for another.

In the next few days, HHH and I will look for any sunshine we can find while preparing for the next storm. We dream of traveling WEST over Donner Pass to find warmth. THE Donner Pass. Not for the faint of heart, it’s impossible to drive through the pass without thinking of the unfortunate travelers that got caught in the winter of 1846. They would have loved a Dollar Store in which to buy gloves, hats and scarves for their group!

Donner Pass is a lifeline between civilization and the wild west in which I live. If closed by storms, products don’t make it to our shelves. Important things like food and toilet paper stay in parked trucks on the west side of the Sierra’s. In an extended snow storm, the shelves become pretty bare around here. It’s always good to plan ahead for snowy day.

Enjoying the amazing blessings of health, an active brain, and a quiet soul, life is really beautiful for two honeymooners here in the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada. We hope you enjoy a beautiful and peaceful winter day! Spring is coming!

Oy Vey.

February has arrived and I’m no closer to releasing the new blog. For new widows and widowers, I must apologize. In September, 2020, I was where you are today. Lost, fearful, heart-broken, alone, and lonely, I poured my sadness into my posts. My life has changed so much since then. The painful and involved journey of grieving finally lead me to healing and peace.

For those interested, I encourage you to start reading the blog from the beginning. There, you may find words that comforts you on your journey through the wilderness of widowhood. It’s been my intention for the start that it would be so.

To go back in time, look to the right today’s post. Click on “Archives”. Scroll down to September 2020. Once on September 31, scroll down again to find the very first post dated September 24, 2020 and begin reading. Repeat that process for each month after that.

There are a few things about the blog that you must know.

1. I don’t have a Master’s in Fine Art in Creative Writing. This blog started with a woman devastated by pain and filled with words begging release to the universe. In the beginning, I’d squeal with delight if I two readers a day visited this Grieving Gardener. As my readership increased, I started looking up IP addresses to identify the countries in which my readers lived. Daily readers slowly increased as I poured out my heart day after day.

For a long time, I wrote every single day. In the midst of Covid while knowing very few people in town, the gardens of Winterpast, (my new home) and Oliver (my little dog) gave me a reason to get out of bed at 4:00 am every morning. I was punctual but not always a very good editor. That remains true to this day.

Some have commented that my grammar isn’t always correct, or my spelling perfect. Sometimes, when deep in thought, I might write “Pants” when I mean “Boots”. Please, please, please, let me know! Unlike Artificial Intelligence, this very real and human woman makes errors. I don’t revisit past blogs very often. I left the pain in that widow’s voice along the way as I healed.

2. My stories are all too real although people or places are usually disguised. I own the many mistakes made along my journey. There were “Northern-Star” moments, calling for corrections in my direction. Every new widow and widower has moments in which they might’ve used better judgement. Just try to remember to continue on your own, authentic path. Most importantly, forgive yourself along the way. Life can be messy sometimes.

Just like Joni Mitchell and her rehabilitation from a brain aneurism, I had to relearn the most basic life skills in a new environment with rules all my own. At 64, I’d never been an adult woman alone in the world. It’s obvious in some of the posts and even more obvious to me when I reflect on things omitted.

3. I can tell you one truth. Everything written was with the best intent to help to at least one widow in the world. I hope my words have accomplished that goal.

4. Winterpast — The name on the plaque my my front door, I dedicated my new home to God in this name. My winter has passed for now and I’m enjoying every bit of happiness I can find.

5. My late husband did have a real name followed by PsyD. For now, I choose to keep that as my own. VST is a nickname given by Auntie TJ on a most special visit. To her, he remains VST to this very day. Keep some things about your late spouse as your own.

6. In the beginning, I taught myself the in’s and out’s of blogging. So simple to begin, I set up my blog site in an afternoon. I’ve learned about the workings of the site, but still the weakest in that area. In the beginning, I didn’t realize I could add pictures and videos. When I found out I could, I probably used too many. I rarely use original pictures, but rather ones I find online. Sometimes, copyrighted music is blocked after publishing. Just life.

7. If interested in writing your own blog, research sites with good reviews. The site I now use is clunky and hard to navigate. I promise the new blog will appear soon. The new site seems to be easier to use, I just need to use it. This honeymooning has rearranged my life just a bit.

8. Is blogging expensive? It can be. Like anything, there are plenty of additional services you can add to your website. Usually, discounts are offered during the first year. Be careful to keep current on your payments. Your Domain Name (ie–Grievinggardener.com) will be yours alone unless you default on payments. Then, it can be snatched by someone else.

Writers must write. Writing is life. Long ago, wise people gave me important advice.

Just tell the story.

Whatever you do today, think about letting your words carry away a little pain and grief away from your heart. Choose a time and place that is comfortable for you and just begin. Tell YOUR story. You might be surprised what your written words tell you!

More tomorrow.

These days, we don’t have space for fancy dinner parties. Too busy growing seedlings, they’ll soon produce the food we’ll enjoy this summer. These tiny plants are entering their third week of life while thriving under an unusually cute grow light. HHH informed me, (the Master Gardener he is), that without stimulation from proper lighting, the plants would be weak and fail.

The grow light is quite an affordable and necessary addition to our gardening tools. Bendable tubes support 12″ positioned over the seedlings in many ways. This device is programmable to come on for the same number of hours each day. For less than $20, it’s a great investment. In just a week, the seedling’s are thriving.

Gardening is a relaxing and soul-soothing hobby. Smelling freshly turned soil while spending time outside, one cannot help but be in the moment. But, there is also the expense. No matter how you begin, beginning gardening can be expensive.

Now that the light has arrived prompting the plants to grow like crazy, the little peat pods are becoming root-bound. Next weekend, it’ll be time to replant everything in bigger pots. This first round of seedlings will be ready for bigger peat pots by the end of next week. Each day, their little stems are getting stronger, fascinating to watch. Some pods that sat empty for two weeks are now sprouting under the grow lights. At some point, I’ll need a bigger table and another grow light. I can almost taste the cherry tomatoes and the Armenian cucumbers we’ll enjoy this summer. And so, the tending continues.

In the 1900’s, I’d enter the nursery and go wild. Two of this plant, five of those. We’d have a full cart of flowering plants and head to the cash register. The bill was always cheaper than a new dress or night on the town, affordable and fun. These days, one young plant can cost $5-$10. Just one. Not a flat of 12, like in the olden days.

Hubba-Hubba-Hubbie and I’ve found our true downfall as a couple. The Garden Center. There was never a doubt that we’d decide to raise our own seedlings this year. It was disheartening to find that a packet of tomato seeds holds 24 seeds. Pretty pricey at $2.00 a pack, but much better than $5 for four seedlings.

Having planted a sufficient number of seeds for a neighborhood farm, I may have found a little cottage industry. After frost danger has passed, the extra plants will be put up for sale to good homes.

As the last days of winter tick by, we’re prepared for spring. The garden shed is clean and organized. The greenhouse is together and waiting for warmer days. The bee hive awaits the queen and her court. And our seedlings are growing. Our late winter checklist almost finished, pruning continues.

Whatever you do this weekend, make sure you remember stressful thoughts should wait until Monday morning at 8. It’s the weekend!!!! Take some time to enjoy fresh air and sunshine if you can grab some. Putting one foot in front of the other, keep moving! With miracles all around, life is truly beautiful.

More on Monday.

Oy. Vey.

2024 is a busy election year. Here on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada nothing would do but to change the way things have been done for decades. Out with the old, in with the new, which is really old. If one election day is good, two will be even better, right?

Last Tuesday, Nevada held the state Primary. Thursday, we caucused. At each event, only one viable candidate running. Party delegates would be awarded to the winner of the Caucus, only. The winner of the state-run primary would receive nothing.

Registered voters would report to the Senior center to cast their ballot. After verifying proper ID, their vote, handwritten on a piece of paper, would be accepted. In theory, this is a great idea. No arguments about faulty election machines. Just old school paper, pencil, and ID’s. What could possibly go wrong? Again, Oy. Vey.

Sometimes very smart people make very dumb decisions. Our little town on a dusty wide spot in the road right off the interstate is home to more than 20,000 residents. Half are conservatives. Now, if half of those want to vote in this important election, you get the number 5,000. If half of those brave the cold and carpool, two to a car, you have the potential for over a thousand cars to roll into a snowy, ice-filled parking lot that holds 100 cars on a good day.

To make matters worse, the hours of the Caucus were from 5:00 – 7:30 PM. Anyone in line at closing could still vote. Can you begin to see a few problems brewing?

One week prior to the caucus, I got a call asking if we’d volunteer to help. Truly, we might’ve considered except that Hubba-Hubba-Husband and I had big plans the next day. Sorry, already booked.

I got another plea to help two days just two days before caucusing. The three “required training dates” had already passed. Just days before caucusing, they’d take anyone who showed up to help.

That very cold evening, HHH and I did attempt to vote. Turning into the midst of a long line of cars, we saw overflow parking in a muddy lot. Stuck in that huge sea of cars, we could be trapped for hours. With skillful maneuvering, HHH turned around and left, escaping potential disaster.

Enjoying a delicious Chinese dinner, we were thankful we’d managed to avoid a complicated evening. Two hours later, we joined our friends at Bible Study.

One of the sweetest women in the group is 91 years young. She drives herself everywhere, keeping a very busy social life. It was no surprise that she’d arrived to caucus two hours early and found a place in line. While waiting, she began chatting with a young couple who’d been married three years. After a little more conversation, it turned out they’d been married by our pastor.

With snow on the ground and the evening desert air quite frigid, the couple sandwiched this little lady right between them to keep her warm. And there, they waited an hour outside in a line that wrapped all the way around the building on that very crazy night.

Another friend was asked to stay and help after waiting in the long line. With not much else on her schedule, she did just that. They got their volunteers one way or another and caucus-ed on.

Oy.

Vey.

As for the State Primary held two days prior, the one viable candidate lost to “None of the Above” by over 30%. I heard her speak the next day. “Nevada wasn’t important to us.” Nothing to see in Nevada, I guess. What a way to insult the population of an entire state.

Elections are such a minor part of life. That’s a good thing.

Whatever you do today, practice a little patience. It’s tough to wait in line when our minds race ahead. Be thankful you have the strength to stand and wait. Smile at someone new. They just might warm your heart.

More tomorrow.