Grieving Gardener

A deafening silence settled on my soul after I lost love to cancer in 2020. The stillness and loneliness of an unknown wilderness stretched ahead, bringing with it a quiet ache, as life itself was dramatically altered. At first, it felt like a storm, crashing over every part of me, while I wondered if I’d ever truly find my way back. As time moved on, my heart proved its resiliency. It broke, but also healed. Some years later, I found love when least expecting it.

Widowhood later in life is common, but that doesn’t make the pain any easier. Whether experiencing the end of a relationship, friendship, dream, grief leaves its mark. At first, there was deep emptiness as I examined the devastation left behind. I spent days trying to fill that void with a variety of distractions that might make the silence a little less overwhelming.

After a while, it became apparent that no matter how much I tried to fill it, that empty space was still there. That void of emptiness had to heal on its own time. I couldn’t rush past the pain because healing isn’t about avoiding the hurt, but about sitting with it while accepting the lessons that appear.

The journey through loss is different for everyone, but one thing remains the same: you are forever changed. There’s a part of me that will always carry the memories, the lessons, and even the scars from the love I’ve lost. But there’s also a part of me that’s learned how to live again while choosing happiness.

The process of rediscovering myself has been a wild ride. I used to ask myself, “Who am I without VST?” or “What do I truly want from life?” It was a confusing time when my identity was shaken. But, in the chaos of trying to rebuild, I began to understand myself in new ways. I found things that made me happy, new excitement, and worthwhile dreams. I nurtured neglected passions and dreams that’d been put on hold. By God’s grace and mercy, it was through this rediscovery that I found peace again.

Finally, the time was right, and love found its way back to Winterpast. Marriage to HHH doesn’t erase the pain or loss as if it never happened. Instead, it brought a new layer of hope and possibility to life. HHH and I understood the depths of loss, yet still dared to believe in new beginnings. Love is the thing that makes life rich, meaningful, and worth living.

Finding love again, especially after we thought we might never feel it again, is a powerful reminder that life is full of second chances. We’ve experienced such beauty while taking the pieces of who we were and building something new. HHH and I have learned love isn’t just something that happened to us—it’s something we’ve created, nurtured, and something we very much deserve.

Love at this stage in life is different. It’s more mature and rooted in self-awareness. It’s not from a place of need, but from a place of sharing and growth.

And now, you might ask, “Would you choose to do it all again?”

A thousand times, YES. The last 2.5 years have been worth more than gold.

If you’re reading this during your own grief, know that the journey is not where life ends. It’s just the beginning of something new. You will heal. You will grow. And someday, when the time is right, love will find you again—not as a replacement, but as a beautiful reminder that life, no matter how hard, always offers us a chance to love and be loved again.

It’s exactly the thing HHH and I are so lucky to have found.

More tomorrow.

The incredibly personal journey through grief has at times been isolating and overwhelming. The loss of a loved one while going through life-changing events left me feeling lost, with emotions too heavy to bear. Overwhelmed, the quiet spaces at Winterpast have become my gentle place to heal.

In 2020, HHH and I lost our spouses. Married to high school friends, we’d enjoyed marriage for a combined total of 50 years. We were both blessed with happy, fulfilling relationships while married to our best friends. When they died, grief could have devoured us, if not for our respective gardens.

Gardening has offered profound comfort to HHH and I during such difficult times. There’s something inherently therapeutic about the act of planting seeds, nurturing growth, and watching life bloom. When the world felt sorrowful, the process of gardening provided an anchor and opportunity for reflection, connection, and a sense of peace.

Gardening grounded us. Whether digging in the soil or simply tending to a small patch of flowers, the earth drew us back to the present moment. Grief often pulled me into a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, many of which felt out of my control. Gardening was an invitation to slow down and connect with nature, while focusing on something requiring patience and care.

The tactile experience of touching the earth, feeling the texture of the soil, and planting seeds offered a simple, calming rhythm that was soothing. In the moment there was no pressure to figure everything out. Nature doesn’t rush because growth takes time, just as emotional healing does.

In 2020, my world stopped, while life at Winterpast continued. Planting seeds is an act of faith while believing that something new will grow, even when the ground feels barren. As the days pass and shoots of green appear, a beautiful metaphor appears, mirroring healing happening in small and imperceptible steps. And so it was for me.

I adore the quiet of a garden, where there’s space to reflect, feel, and express. Grief was often accompanied by a flood of emotions hard to articulate. While tending to plants, I found a place of solitude where these emotions flowed freely without judgment. During the quiet days of Covid, my shattered heart began to mend as the seasons came and went. Over time, the garden itself becomes a reflection of the strength and resilience I carried within, even when the devastation of cancer left me broken.

Although HHH and I will never “get over” our grief, we ARE healing “through” it. Time has helped new love flourish. Together, we’ve found ways to nurture and comfort each other. Gardening offers just that—a gentle, therapeutic way to connect with nature, express our feelings, and witness the quiet miracle of growth while finding our way towards new life. As two grieving gardeners are blessed in so many ways.

After five years living here on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada, I’ve become used to seeing wild horses. The horses were good neigh-bors, never really meaning harm to anyone. Seeing them would brighten my day with their new spring foals. Like the seasons, they would appear and disappear like clockwork.

Until.

They.

Disappeared.

Simple as that. They are no more to be found.

Now, this is very strange that they disappeared just about the time HHH and I really started thinking about fencing Winterpast. HHH is itching to plant beautiful roses and flowers in the front yard. Those things don’t mix too well with grazing mustangs, and so, we requested an estimate.

After receiving a ridiculously high quote for the fence, we noticed the “problem” was now gone. Day after day, I hoped to see the white mare who sheltered next to my house through many winter storms. She and the others have disappeared. It’s difficult to make one hundred 1500 pound animals disappear unless helicopters and trailers are involved.

With their disappearance arrived a letter about the latest planning commission meeting to discuss proposed industrial districts. A new highway through the hills will meet up with the interstate. New parks and more houses will be built. None of these goals include herds of wild mustangs roaming wide open plains.

Silently, with stealth, helicopters, and trailers, our mustangs were removed. Quite probably, they were moved to the feedlot just north of us, awaiting those new owners who will never come. After a time, they’ll take one more trailer ride towards the wide open plains in the sky.

Here at Winterpast, the front yard plans are less complicated now. With no wildlife around, (except the squirrel), a fence-less facelift with paint and plants is in our future. Of course, a new band of horses could be working their way towards us just in time to eat the new roses. Sometimes, that’s how things go in the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada.

As we drive to Walmart, there’s real sadness in the empty desert. With the logistics of the many manufacturing victories around here, the loss of the horses will be permanent. Now, I’m just an old one remembering our neighborhood visits. The fate of the white winter-night mare standing guard just outside my bedroom when widowhood was new will haunt me forever. Run free, old girl.

Whatever you do today, take time to appreciate things in your life that could be gone tomorrow. Take pictures. Stop for a minute to appreciate our open spaces. Far too quickly, you may find things have changed “for the better”.

More tomorrow

They paved paradise
Put up a parking lot
With a pink hotel, a boutique
And a swinging hot spot

They took all the trees
Put ’em in a tree museum
Then they charged the people
A dollar and a half just to see ’em

Don’t it always seem to go
That you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone?
They paved paradise
Put up a parking lot — Joni Mitchell

Once upon a time, there was a lovely little park nestled inside our little town. For decades, this little park has been the spot where littles learned to swing and their parents came for a little breath of fresh air.

Surrounding this little park were the most beautiful cottonwood trees. If these trees could talk, they would have stories to tell. Watching generations of locals grow from those tiny tots on swings to grandparents swinging their own littles, they gave shade and comfort on very hot summer days.

Until.

One.

Day.

Just like the mustangs, urbanization brings with it difficult changes. In the case of the cottonwood trees, a chain saw took care of the problem of “liabilities”. In one week’s time, the “Park” has no more trees.

All in the name of making things more modern, the tiny little park is now adorned with colorful awnings. Awnings/6 – Trees/-8. Primary colors provide a dot of shade here or there, while the loveliness of the wind blowing through the leaves of those mature cottonwood trees is just a memory.

When did it become necessary to cut down trees that are more than 1/2 century old? Yes. Things change. Things die. Dat be true. But, these trees had been doing their job shading a park until someone that hadn’t spent much time at “In-Town Park” decided they needed to go.

Our little town needs so much more than chain-saw activity. As our population grows each week, the number of restaurants, grocery stores, and services remain the same. Each week, the paper lists scores of new business permits for things that a growing town doesn’t need, while the traffic congestion gets worse. There must have been a little better use of funds and time than removing beautiful trees that cleaned our air and calmed the spirit.

Now, this little park is quite barren. The earth is being ripped open to put a walking trail around this tiny piece of ground. Last Saturday, parents sat in the open sun while watching their daughters play softball. I would guess the park won’t get much use on a summer day here in the desert, unless one is lucky enough to get under one of the colorful patches of shade.

There’s really nothing more to say about this sad situation. Joni Mitchell had it right. Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone…..

If you’re a fan of quirky gardening tips or just looking for something sweet to grow this season, you’re in for a treat. One of the most incredible gardening secrets of all time is how to grow your Marshmallow Plant. No, this isn’t some elaborate prank or a sticky situation; it’s 100% true.

I know what you’re thinking—marshmallows come from a bag at the grocery store, not from a garden! It’s really sad that so many people don’t understand where their food comes from or the trouble it takes to grow. After reading this guide, you’ll be on your way to harvesting your very own batch of fluffy, sugary goodness straight from the soil. No factory required! HHH and I love fresh Marshmallows right from the garden. There’s nothing quite like it.

First things first, let’s talk soil. Marshmallow plants thrive in sugar-rich soil, so make sure your garden is well-stocked with the sweetest compost around. A 2:1 blend of powdered sugar and cotton candy with 2 T. of honey will work wonders. This should be carefully mixed into the soil to reach a homogeneous mix. If you can’t find those ingredients, regular garden soil will do—but it might take a few extra years for your marshmallows to reach peak fluffiness.

Once you’ve prepared the soil, you’re ready for the fun part: planting! Marshmallow plants are incredibly sensitive to climate, so it’s crucial that you plant them on April 1st. If you wait any longer, they’ll wither. Plant directly into the ground. Marshmallow plants don’t transplant due to their long tap root.

Once you’ve located the perfect spot in your garden, dig a small hole (about 2 inches deep) and drop a miniature marshmallow in each hole. Cover them with a light dusting of powdered sugar (not too much, or fruit might get too sweet), and water them with a 2:1 solution of Light Karo-Syrup and water. Not too much—just a gentle spray when dry.

Now, the real magic happens! Marshmallow plants require constant attention to ensure they grow properly. They love being sung to, so start every morning by humming a light, airy tune like “Sugar, Sugar” by the Archies. If you don’t sing, the plants young sprouts won’t thrive.

After about 6-8 weeks, your marshmallows will be ready to harvest. You’ll know they’re ripe when they start to turn that perfect shade of white, and a sweet scent fills the air.

To harvest, simply pluck the marshmallows GENTLY from the plant. Due to their delicate nature, it’s important to wear white cotton gloves when harvesting. If you pull too hard, you could end up with a sticky mess—your marshmallows might collapse into an unsalvageable blob. “Gentle plucking technique” is necessary for the optimal marshmallow retrieval.

Finally, the best part: enjoying your homegrown marshmallows! After curing them in a dark room at 72.5 degrees for exactly 27 hours and 3 minutes, they will be ready. Store in Zip-Lock bags for maximum freshness. Roast them over a campfire for a perfect snack, or use them to make a batch of homemade s’mores. You could even toss them into hot cocoa for a fluffy kick.

Whatever you do, don’t forget to share the love with your neighbors! They’ll be so amazed at your garden that they’ll probably try to plant marshmallow trees of their own. Just be sure to remind them that this is a very special kind of plant, and it requires a good sense of humor and a healthy dose of whimsy.

P.S. Before running to the store for miniature marshmallows, you might want to check your calendar first. 😉

Happy April Fools’ Day!

More tomorrow.

Approaching my eleventh year as a Nevadan, the weather on the high desert plains is something I’ll never figure out. Here it is, the last day of March. March should come in like a lion and out like a lamb. Hmm. It seems the Weather Gods of Nevada didn’t get the memo, for the weather has taken a turn for the worse. This week, there are no gorgeous spring days in the forecast. Rather, the weather will be winter-like until further notice.

As the world begins to shake off the winter chill and the first signs of spring start to emerge, those of us living in the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada know that early spring can be a tricky season to navigate. With its unique combination of harsh conditions and stunning beauty, we face a special set of challenges around here.

Today, high winds will return to the area, wreaking havoc on fences and trees. These are the kinds of winds that approach like freight trains with sustained speeds of 30 – 50 miles per hour. Two friends were discussing roof repairs at church yesterday. It’s the price we all pay to live in the desert.

Today’s gusts might well turn this pleasant Monday afternoon into a battle with blowing sand and dust. Not only does this make outdoor activities uncomfortable, but the wind also makes the air feel much colder than it actually is, adding an extra chill to the day. HHH’s golf date may need to be put on hold until next week.

One of the defining characteristics of early spring in the high desert is its unpredictable nature. You may start the day with bright sunshine, but by the afternoon, a gusty windstorm could sweep in, followed by a cold snap that makes you wish you had packed a jacket. Temperatures can fluctuate wildly during this time of year, with mornings often dipping below freezing and afternoons warming up to the 50s or 60s.

Thank goodness the Iris and Daffodils aren’t bothered by these crazy temps. Last year, HHH and I moved many of the Iris’s to a more central location. This year, they’re sprouting as if they’ve never been moved!

I wish the fruit trees were more agreeable. With the long stretch of freezing temps, we’ll be lucky to get any fruit at all this year. This is all a bit worrisome as we wait for the new bees. Arriving in a little more than two weeks, there isn’t a lot of food around here for them to eat. Last year, 60% of the hives in the United States died. We’re all praying for a better year.

While the temperatures are swinging back and forth, our seedlings will continue to be safe and sound on the dining room table. As they continue to grow, some have graduated to 4″ peat pots, while others are just breaking the surface. One thing is for certain, Winterpast will be ablaze with color this year.

With all of this uncertainty, one thing is clear. This gives me an entire week to work on spring cleaning. The dust bunnies have been multiplying in preparation for Easter. I need to get with the program, because there isn’t any gardener that wants to be inside when the weather finally turns to spring.

Whatever you do today, choose an activity that fits your weather. If you are lucky enough to enjoy some spring days, get outside and enjoy the sunshine. Plant something. Enjoy the birds and their antics. Spring is a gorgeous time of year.

We came back from sunshine, the skies so bright,
A vacation of warmth, of pure delight.
But now we’re at home, with tissues galore,
Two cold’s caught us fast, we can’t ignore!

The sunburn has faded, the tan is too,
But the nose is red, and we’re sniffling too.
Our vacation’s memories, sweet and divine,
Now mix with coughs and a fevered sign.

Oh, how we long for that tropical air,
Instead of these blankets and colds that we wear.
We miss the buffet, where the food never stopped,
Endless plates of dessert, we just couldn’t opt out!

And the spa, so soothing, with oils and warm steam,
Massages that felt like the world’s sweetest dream.
Now I’m here in bed, with no joy to unwrap,
Just a box of tissues and a cold on my lap.

But before we departed, the thrill was so near,
The countdown began, and the excitement was clear!
We planned every detail, each shore to explore,
Daydreamed of lounging and what was in store.

What excursions to take? What sights would we see?
The joy of decision, so wild and so free!
Packing our bags with swimsuits and sun,
It was all so exciting, the journey begun!

But soon we’ll recover, and maybe in time,
We’ll remember and laugh at these colds in a rhythm.
For vacations are fleeting, the cold won’t last,
Our memories of warmth will surely outlast!

So here we sit, with tea, side by side,
Dreaming of buffets and spas, as we fight this cold tide.

Thing are a bit slow as we end this week. With any luck at all, our shared viruses will be gone by Monday. Just as our memories of Spring Break fade, colder weather is returning. Very soon, spring will be here to stay.

Whatever you do this weekend, try to avoid the nasty viruses that are out and about. They are particularly nasty this year. Stay well. I’ll be back Monday.

OY. VEY.

OY. VEY.

OY. VEY.

Ending our beautiful vacation, we’ve returned to a sea of Mucinex and Kleenex. According to Cruising Facebook pals, we’re not the only ones who brought home a little something extra from our beautiful time in Mexico. It seems that lots of people went home sick. Looking back, we regret nothing. As the days go by, we’re both feeling better.

During these days of sneezing and wheezing, the last thing I needed was to wake up to seven emails from our TV/Phone/Television carrier. Sometime between 4pm and midnight on Sunday night, I requested a change to my phone passwords, SIM card, and everything to do with my account.

Now, I know cold medicine can do crazy things to the mind, but I’m quite sure I was either suffering or sleeping during that time. I’m quite certain changing my phone passwords wasn’t on my To-Do List.

When I checked my emails the next morning while in a medically induced fog, I might have let out a few nasty words. Then, I needed to get to work. I first talked with the computer-generated router. Can they make these devices any more unpleasant??????? It routed me to a wonderful woman in New York named Rosie.

And so it began.

“Oh, this is terrible. Yes, I can see the changes were made yesterday. Oh, your phone doesn’t work anymore? Oh, I can see that. Hmm. I need to transfer you to the Cellular department, as my speciality is Television service.”

“Bye, Bye Rosie.”

A friendly “Hello” to Brad in Florida.

“How is the weather in Nevada? Yes, I can see you are having some trouble. Started about 4pm yesterday? Yes, I see that. Well, I work with new accounts. I need to route you to the fraud department. Can I put you on a short hold?”

“Bye, Bye Brad. “

On to Ike in South Carolina.

‘How’s your day going? Oh no….. I see you’ve been hacked. Hmmmm. this is a bit more technical than I can handle. I need to route you to our technician that works in that department. Can I put you on a short hold?”

So long, Ike. Nice talking to you.

Can you please help me, John in Wisconsin?

“Let’s get to the bottom of this. I’ll need some information to get you up and running.”

John was the man, after quite the journey around the country.

Indeed, I was hacked. How this happened, I have no idea. If not for my daily inspections for signs of fraud, I never would have known why my phone suddenly stopped working. Along with the fraud situation, I found that I had two charges that had been added to my account in error. Wisconsin John ended up saving me $80 a month in charges, while fixing my phone.

Fraud is no joke. As we become more dependent on technology in our daily lives, the chances of being hacked increases. It’s just the way it is these days. If only all that energy could be used for good instead of thievery, the world would be a much better place.

All things are on the mend. Our colds are slowly leaving us. The hack is a thing of the past. Now, the biggest problem is where we’ll take our next cruise. Very Lucky Hubba-Hubba-Hubbie won us a cruise for two! Any length, any destination. It’s all up to us.

When one vacation ends, another is planned!! Stay tuned. More adventures are on the way!

Suffering from the hacking of my phone AND a head-cold, I am out for today. I’ll be back with the entire story tomorrow.

How quickly the weather changes when living on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada! The day before we left, the skies threatened the first real rain in many weeks. Today, we are going to enjoy a high of 73 degrees. Lovely in every way.

With warmer weather comes the need for water, and so the cycle begins again. Yesterday, HHH turned the water back on. For those of you living in warmer climates, that must sound strange. Turning the sprinklers on and off is part of the deal when living in snow country.

As we walked around the gardens of Winterpast yesterday, it was fun to see everything coming to life. Bulbs are beginning to sprout and will soon flower. Garlic and onions are hiding for now, but will soon emerge. The roses are beginning to push new leaves and the gardens are waking up.

HHH had decided it was time to resume feeding our bird population. With several feeding stations around the yard, it’s fun to watch the dove, quail, finches, and others return. Soon, there will be new nests and expanded families.

Unfortunately, bird seed has invited the return of the pesky ground squirrel, and so, our fight will resume. It seems we may need to deploy the “tried and true” gopher trap. Where poison fails, mechanical extermination should work. If nothing is done, the backyard may turn into one giant sinkhole from extensive tunneling.

Sadly, Oliver has forgotten the purpose for which is ancestors were bred. Badger eradication. He talks big talk about these invaders, but when it comes to chasing them away, he’s useless. Give him a toad or fledgling robin and he’ll eliminate them. The squirrel is another story altogether.

This week, it’s time to place our seedlings in 4″ pots. We are going to have outrageous flowers this year. Carnations, Lupine, Zinnias, and Hoary Stock are all inches tall. Luckily, with the cooler temps, they all survived the week without loving care. 300 little plants are just itching to get outside and begin to bloom. I must say, it’ll be hard to wait until mid April.

The plants that overwintered in the greenhouse are screaming to get out. Even though it is the end of March, indoor temperatures can reach 90 degrees. It’ll be fun to see which of the perennials will come back for another year in our growing zone. Each year, the gardens of Winterpast have more to teach.

As for our beautiful apricot tree, time will tell what kind of crop we’ll have this year. While we were bobbing about in the Pacific Ocean, there were some heavy frosts. Unfortunately, the early blooms remain on the tree, brittle and brown. If there is a second bloom, we may get lucky.

Whatever you do today, take a walk outside and see what’s new. Spring is such a wonderful time of year for new beginnings. Sunshine is good for the mind and body! Get going! The day’s a-wasting.