Grieving Gardener

NEVER, EVER, EVER FORGET!

Please reflect on those Americans who lost their lives that horrible morning 23 years ago today.

Sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, grandchildren, moms, dads, co-workers and friends collectively robbed of their futures on one terrifying day.

As towns across the country will do, ours is remembering while we gather at Out-Of-Town park. 343 firemen lost their lives that day running towards the danger. Heroes were born out of this tragedy. Cancer continues to claim the lives of those that rushed to help.

For the last five years, I’ve chosen to write an anonymous letter and a donation to an unsung hero in my town. The first year, during Covid, I wrote to the cheer and track coaches training kids even though there would be no competitions. I’ve written to the auto mechanic asking him to put my donation towards the bill of the next single mother with hungry kids and a broken car. I’ve thought of something different each year and quietly donated.

There are many things you can do behind the scenes. Try it. There’s something wonderful about secretly helping someone who needs it. 9/11 is a great day to start a tradition.

Whatever you do today, remember. Look at the images. Think about that day. Watch “Come From Away” and shed a few tears.

9/11.

Never, ever, ever, ever, ever forget.

During the next two weeks, our little church will is taking a yearly check-up. With the help of an extensive questionnaire, each parishioner has been asked to reflect on different aspects of their personal experience. The information collected will be used to see how the church is doing. This request has been presented most positively. To grow, we need to know.

A wise woman of the church brought up an interesting subject during worship Sunday. It’s helpful to quietly check in with ourselves periodically to correct our chosen path. It’s easy to become distracted, take a wrong turn, and end up in the dark. Much better to take a self-inventory, correct our course, and then, stay on track.

Taking time for self-reflection is a form of self care that increases self-respect. Taking care of everyone and everything in life can leave one drained. With quiet reflection and a little self awareness, emotions can become easier to control. Mindfulness can lower stress and anxiety that come along with every day life.

As the internet provides information necessary for a happy life, I did a little Google search and found something written by Chris Masunic, PhD, RD, CDCES, MBA. Sometimes, the simplest questions are the hardest to answer. Take a minute to think about these as they pertain to your own life.

1. “How am I feeling right now?” Take a moment to identify your current emotional state. Are you feeling happy, sad, anxious, or something else? Naming your emotions is the first step in understanding them.

2. “What does my body need at this moment?” Listen to your body. Does it need rest, movement, nutrition, or perhaps relaxation? Your physical wellbeing is closely linked to your mental health.

3. “What self-care action can I take today?” Consider what actions might nourish and rejuvenate you. It could be as simple as taking a walk, reading a book, or practicing a hobby.

4. “Is there anything I need to forgive myself for?” Self-forgiveness is a crucial aspect of emotional wellbeing. Reflect on whether there’s something you’re holding against yourself and how you can let go of that burden.

5. “What am I grateful for today?” Gratitude can shift your focus from what’s troubling you to what’s good in your life. Identify things you’re thankful for to encourage a positive impact on your mood.

6. “What are my needs that aren’t being met?” Sometimes, negative feelings stem from unmet needs. Identify what needs—like connection, rest, or recognition—you might be neglecting.

7. “What accomplishments can I celebrate today?” Recognize victories, even small ones, to help build self-esteem and motivation.

8. “How can I be kinder to myself in this moment?” Treat yourself with the same kindness you’d offer a friend, rather than neglecting your needs or speaking negatively to yourself.

9. “What’s one thing I can let go of that’s not serving me?” Habits, thoughts, or obligations in your life might be holding you back. Imagine releasing them, and see which could help you find a greater sense of wellbeing.

10. “What brings me joy, and how can I incorporate more of it into my life?” Identify sources of joy—like hobbies, personal relationships, or community endeavors—and make them a part of your routine to boost your mental health.

Huge corporations take inventory of their products and progress. Why shouldn’t individuals take inventory of their own life? Looking inward is a great way to discover what’s working and what could be better. After all, as CEO of our ship, it’s up to each of us to steer the boat! Otherwise, we just might run aground.

Whatever you do today, take a minute to think about the questions above. Especially #8. Be kind, rewind, and then, carry on.

More tomorrow.

Fires in the West are always a real and present danger. The beautiful Manzanita, Pine, and grasses are awe-inspiring. The vegetation covering the mountains and desert we love so much, they are also something else. FUEL. Once you’ve lived through a major fire, you never think of trees and bushes as anything other than FUEL.

The Davis Fire started Saturday afternoon in a small campground miles west of my town. A quiet little spot just right for day use, this campground was a place to enjoy the pines for the day. Although the cause hasn’t been announced, there was no lightning in the clear blue skies that day. It started around 2:30 pm. Everything points to a human cause. In this day and age, it often does.

In 2013, I lived through the terror of 30 fires, one set every single day for a month. We would later discover each fire was started by a neighbor and his wife. Almost losing their home to foreclosure, they planned to set a variety of fires around the area. The “BIG” one would start next to their house and come with an insurance payoff. They could start life anew as fire VICTIMS.

They were very crafty and almost accomplished their goal. During that month, evacuated twice as manzanita and oak trees went up in flames all around us. One young couple escaped a fire with only their small daughter and their lives. They lost everything.

It took a huge effort by Madera County Sheriff and other law enforcement. Men wore camouflage and sat long hours in trees waiting to catch the suspects red-handed. After 30 days, close to their home and mine, they DID. The community pulled together and the husband got 30 years while the wife got a bit less.

Although the bushes and trees slowly came back, the psychological scars of the fires were slower to heal. With horror and disgust, the community was told that after only three years served these two monsters were released early due to “good behavior”. Remember their name, as they could be YOUR new neighbors.

In 2014, the Courtney Fire in Bass Lake took the homes of 33 of our neighbors, leaving a scattering of cabins like ours unharmed. The neighborhood was forever shattered. In 40 minutes, the fire raced up a mountain, took out the community and raced to the edge of the lake. Luckily, the only fatalities were two cats.

If you’ve lived through something like this, fires aren’t just news stories. They bring up a deep sadness and empathy for the new victims. The community has just suffered a loss from which some will never recover.

My heart breaks for the sixteen families who lost everything in the fire this weekend. The community lost so many special things that can never be replaced. They’ll live with the scars from this fire for a very long time. It will take decades for these 6500 acres to return to their natural beauty. Something so precious has been lost.

As the sun rises this morning, the damage will slowly come to light. At this point 12, 000 people are evacuated, two of them being my brother-in-law and his beautiful wife. They, along with others, will find comfort from friends and family, while waiting to find out whether they still have homes.

Whatever you do today, please pray for the victims of the Davis Creek Fire.

More tomorrow.

1982 was a quite a year for me. Mothering two boys, age 3 and 1, I didn’t have much time to sit and watch television. There was always something to do. Watch the babies. Tend the garden. Wash and line dry cloth diapers. Sew. Cook. Clean. Repeat. Those days were filled with “Must Do’s” and included very little “I’d Like To…”-s.

One day, a story on the television caught my attention. It seemed a certain man named Larry Walters made the news in a very big way. Using a $109 “Sear’s Best” lawn chair attached to 43 helium-filled weather balloons, he left terra-firma to soar to an eventual height of 16,000 feet. It just so happened that after lifting off from San Pedro, California, he entered controlled airspace near long Beach Airport. When he eventually got caught in power lines and caused an electrical outage in the area, he climbed down to safety and was arrested.

Larry had always wanted to fly, but because of poor eyesight, that wasn’t to be. So, being a creative man, he figured a way to have his own experience. He knew the helium would carry him up and he’d carry a pellet gun to burst the balloons to make his descent. He was hoping to float over the Mojave Desert.

Larry had dreamt about doing this for 20 years. He finally made his dream come true at the cost of a $1500 fine for “operating a civil aircraft for which there is not currently in effect an airworthiness certificate.” Only the government could come up with that one.

There are so many rich and wonderful things about this story. The fact that Larry dreamt about doing this for 20 years is only one of many. His “aircraft” was named Inspiration 1, which made one think there might be more adventures. He achieved inner peace by fulfilling a lifelong dream!

So busy at the time, Larry and I went on with our very separate lives. His story was soon forgotten by most, but not by me. When I had some time, I intended to write a letter to this man. I wanted him to know his bravery and vision weren’t lost on a young mother tending to two babies in Madera, California. I really meant to write that letter. Year after year, it was on my very long list of things to do. I’d do it. Tomorrow.

It was with a heavy heart that 11 years later, I read a very small article about his suicide. He’d lost the love of his life. He had trouble finding work. His days became too dark and he ended his own life.

What might one letter have done to change his outlook? I never had the chance to find out. Perhaps we would’ve become pen pals. His antics took my troubled mind to place of possibilities and wonder. If Larry could reach his lifelong dream, maybe I could muster up the courage to make my own life better.

Words are life. In 2018, a brilliant 5th grader started her final essay to me with these three words, receiving an A+. Words ARE life. A random letter of encouragement could be all it takes to make any day better. Just one little envelope delivered snail mail.

Yesterday, I took time to write a letter to one of my favorite authors. Jan Karon. It was from the very first book about her beloved Mitford that I read an enchanting story about a mansion named “Winterpast” (Chapter 19-21 of “At Home in Mitford”).

As a new widow, I needed anything to keep my mind focused. I picked up her book and fell into the world of Father Tim and his parishioners. And there, I found “Winterpast”. Just like that, my new home had a name.

My beloved spoke and said to me,
    “Arise, my darling,
    my beautiful one, come with me.
See! 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.
The fig tree forms its early fruit;
    the blossoming vines spread their fragrance.
Arise, come, my darling;
    my beautiful one, come with me. _{Song of Solomon 2: 10-13}

I wrote to Mrs. Karon yesterday. I hope it brightened her day. Words ARE life changing. They can turn a widow away from the constant companion of grief and steer her toward the future. I know. I happened to me that May evening in 2020.

Whatever you do today, take a little time and write an unexpected letter to someone special. Let them know how they’ve changed your life. Don’t forget to add the love.

Have a great weekend!

So many types of grief. So many losses in this world. From the last days of a beloved pet life to the tragic loss of friend or family, there is only one thing guaranteed. We will all pass through times of darkness even when the bluest skies are right outside our door. It’s all part of LIFE.

I’m so grateful for my experiences in the classroom. Losing a student has made me even more thankful for my days spent with the best people in the world. Kids. In my career and as a mom, I’ve had the experience of teaching every single age group. Each age is unique and awe inspiring. Every child left an imprint on my heart that will remain there forever.

I remember the first weeks of school as a new teacher. I’d go home and wonder how on earth I’d ever teach the new students anything at all. Each one came with a set of summer cobwebs, unique and individual. Some fell back into the routine of school easier than others. I would ask myself, “Why ME, Lord? Why THAT child?”

In 22 years of teaching, God never got it wrong. I was given the kids I needed. By the end of the year, I could write a book about each one. By the last day of school, I could have taken the whole class to Hawaii and never had a bad moment. Each year, teaching followed that pattern.

Few teachers have the chance to teach Kinder – 12th. In many different settings, I discovered that kids are kids. My 11th graders struggled with 3rd grade art projects while laughing through it all. My 3rd graders enjoyed writing 6th grade animal reports, done entirely in class. Through it all, I found patience and positivity I didn’t know I possessed. We found community and love in our classroom.

Now, the world has lost a very special someone who chose her battles carefully. Butterfly Gal was strong enough to ask for support and help when she needed it. When she went off on her own for a summer in San Francisco, she was as brave and fearless as a warrior even when shaking in her boots. She did it all her own way.

After a loss, we all rest a bit in darkness, but remember, it’s not a place to stay. During times of despair, forward movement is necessary. Just one foot in front of the other, and soon you’re moving into the unknown.

In a small California town, a candlelight vigil will be held for Butterfly Gal Sunday night at 7. I’ll be there in spirit. She was a light to so many. Now, others will carry the light for her.

Whatever you do today, be vigilant in all aspects of your life. Look for light in sweeet memories and share them. Have a grateful heart for happy times of the past. A little light in the darkness when it seems all is lost.

More tomorrow.

In early 2009, I met a girl with a dream in the most improbable place. She needed a bit more time in school ending up a bit behind. I detoured from 3rd grade to teach high school math and science with a side of writing. Our two paths intersected at a little country school located in the middle of Nowhere, California. And so this story began.

At that time, my students were unique and quirky. Independent and in need of a patience and a different style of teaching, they found themselves at the tiny little School. My students were often referred to as “those kids” by “those people” that had never met them. I knew and loved each of them as if they were my own, because for two years, they were.

During those days, five young women waited to join me in a writing group that met twice a week. I always laughed that they’d walk miles through the worst of storms to make it to school on those days. The six of us cherished our time together as writers. Looking back, it was me that would’ve walked barefoot through broken glass to share time with these young women.

During our time together, we all thought about life, considered words that might heal us, wrote, shared, cried, laughed, and became stronger writers. Once a week wasn’t enough, so we met twice. Once, a very stern teacher heard raucous laughter coming from our classroom. Just WHAT was so darn funny in THAT classroom. We heard her coming and when she flung the door open, we all sat silently stunned. We’d been busted. For laughing!!! I can still hear her little stiletto’s clip-clip-clipping down the hall. A hilarious moment.

One particular girl had dreams of becoming a movie director. Although a lofty dream, she could attain it as well as the next person. We spent many days discussing all the ways it could become a reality. And then, something wonderful happened.

Butterfly Gal found a specific program offered to Junior high school students. A student internship at the San Francisco Institute of Art. There, for a summer, she could escape her dusty roadside town and be fully immersed in the world she hoped to enter. The day she came to see me, she was bubbling over with excitement.

The cost of the summer program would be $500. She could raise that much in ten months. She just knew she could. She’d clean her closet and sell anything she could. Heck, she’d sell cookies and bottled water on the side of the road. She’d find a job washing dishes. In no time at all, she’d have that $500. And that’s what she did, until the day her bubble burst.

Into the very same classroom entered a girl I hardly recognized. After reading the fine print, she found the $500 was only a deposit. In fact, the real cost was $3000 which might as well have been $1,000,000. Devastation and darkness filled the classroom that day as we shared tears. Again, I told her that if she was supposed to be there, she would be. That’s what faith is all about. We talked a lot about faith, she and I.

Plan B came together. Butterfly Gal spoke to the school board asking for help. The boosters kicked in money. She asked family and neighbors to help. A little more money came in. In a couple months, she was still short by $1,000. At this point, I questioned my own wisdom in encouraging her in this endeavor. Pushing boundaries can be very uncomfortable. The date for the final payment was very close and all resources had evaporated.

On a Friday afternoon, while finishing my day, I received a call from a retired school board member. Could we meet? Something very important needed to be discussed. Could I wait for her to arrive? She’d always been very nice to me. Sure it was Friday at 2 PM, but sometimes a teacher must go the extra mile. I agreed to wait.

With her brilliant smile she entered my room. She’d heard about Butterfly Gal. On that very day, she’d received news from the attorney of her late Aunt. It seemed she’d inherited some money for a specific purpose. It was Aunt Daisy’s greatest wish that the funds would help a student pursue her love of the Arts. The amount??????

Wait for it…..

Yes. Exactly $1,000.

Butterfly Gal and I danced around the room on Monday morning! She was on her way to San Francisco for a summer that would change her life. She met her goal and enjoyed a summer that proved wonderful in every way. The last time I saw her was right before Christmas, 2013, when she was happy and full of smiles.

I don’t live in California anymore, but do check the news from time to time. I’d heard of the accident that happened only miles east of our little school. On August 30th,  a semi drove into the opposite lane, striking a car and ending the life of an amazingly beautiful 31 year old woman. Monday, my world was rocked a bit. It was then I found out my sweet student had been killed in an instant.

Last night, I read a letter she’d written to me on December 17, 2013, two years after her high school graduation. Chronicling our sweet time together as student, teacher, and friends, the words took me back to those wonderful days so long ago. She wrote about the impact writing had on her life. Of the positive affects her summer in San Francisco brought into her life. Of the talks we shared on dark mornings. But it was her last words that tore at my heart.

“You’ll always be one of my guardian angels. I love you.”

Rest in peace, Butterfly Gal. As I enjoy writing each day, I know you’ll be sitting on my shoulder as MY guardian angel. Now you’ll know ALL my stories. I love you, too. These words are written for you.

More tomorrow.

Some days, there are no words for the frustration caused by the hounds of Winterpast. 60 pounds if their weight is added together, these two canines are truly crazy but only one is untrainable and incorrigible. He happens to be my contribution to our pack. Sir Oliver of Ashworth Hall, most days referred to as Ollie.

There isn’t anything that Oliver won’t try to eat or otherwise ruin. I’ve come to the conclusion that he has some sort of major food disorder leading him to eat rocks, plastic lighting, sprinklers of all kinds, and now, garden plants. Any kind of garden plants. Especially the one his Mom-Oh picks from the garden.

In the early spring, he didn’t learn about the cherries, or he’d have figured a way to climb the tree. So far, he has left all bark on the trees, which is a blessing. However, when the apricots began to fall, he could be found eating them at all times of the day.

According to the internet, apricot pits can be toxic to dogs. I wish someone would “borrow” Oliver to do a case study, because this dog dines on them regularly without any visible side affects. He loves the dried apricot flesh with a side of garden rocks. It’s a challenge for the little one to eat the dried flesh off the small white rocks, but if he swallows a rocky chunks, he doesn’t seem to mind.

He loves transplanted worms intended for our healthy garden soil. As long as he can see where I’ve put them, he’s on it. Of course, his nose is so sharp, he needs only to follow my scent trail to find these tender little nuggets of juiciness.

His favorite treats involve the garden. Here’s the story on that.

In the spring, HHH and I decided to fence the garden. We bought enough fencing to surround the bee hive. This served the double purpose of keeping Oliver and Wookie away from the fence and the neighbors dogs and protecting the hive. A win-win with just enough fencing left to secure the garden on the opposite side of the yard.

Carefully plotting his little attack, Oliver was good as gold in the beginning. He wouldn’t even go near the garden until we returned the remainder of the fencing. Then, all bets were off and he was on a mission to eat every single Armenian cucumber and bell pepper he could find. Squash and zucchini weren’t his favorite but they’d do in a pinch. He wiped out the strawberries as they ripened. He enjoyed digging as he chased lizards, all the while destroying the tranquility of our garden area.

It matters not the times he’s been in trouble. Spraying him with water just cools him off. Now enjoying his 6th year on this earth, aging hasn’t even slowed him down The only thing that will work is the gated fence that’s scheduled for next spring.

This year, we had a dinner-plate lemon Dahlia on the patio. The most beautiful of our beautiful’s, HHH was nurturing it along until it died a natural death. Death? Natural?? Think again. You want a plant destroyed??? No problem if you have this terrible little dog. Done. Yesterday, the Dahlia became a thing of the past, while Oliver lives another day.

Yesterday, without reason, Wookie peed in the living room. The time has come for puppy camp. Human vacation is in the very near future. The safety and happiness of two little dogs depend on it.

More tomorrow.

The best thing about retirement is that schedules are only as strict as you want them to be. Every day can be some sort of holiday. Real holiday’s are often more comfortable spent at home with loved ones while crowded streets rumble on. Such is the case here at Winterpast.

The man burned Saturday night but I didn’t turn on the video to watch. Not exactly sure what significance “the man” holds, but am pretty sure I’m from the group he represents. It’ll be another year until “Strange” returns to our town. The playa be returned to the empty desert space it was always meant to be, while revelers return to their own homes around the world.

The temporary desert airstrip will also be shut down. I find it very curious that those so very worried about our planet arrive to such a festival in private jets and brand-new-Prevost busses. Makes one wonder.

Yesterday, we had a lovely day at church. About 40 of us worship together every Sunday while enjoying songs and thoughtful lessons from the Bible. The lesson focused on words of Prophet Zechariah from an interesting book. Written over 500 years before the birth of Christ, it’s fascinating to read words that still applicable today.

HHH and I have been sharing our garden’s abundance with the congregation, taking the last of our zucchini and summer squash yesterday. The fruit and vegetables are now gone. All that we have left to enjoy are the watermelon and pumpkin. The garden flowers are giving one last show, and then, they’ll be finished, as well. What a year!

After beautiful music and a great lesson, church was over and the most beautiful lesson of all was waiting for us outside. Another church from town decided to donate a work day to our community garden and the Pregnancy Crisis Center on the property. Not only did they clean out bags and bags of refuse from the garden, but decided the tiny center needed paint.

This neighborly church is preparing the building and will be painting it this week. Just because.

Just because we’re all Christians from the same town.

Just because it’s a really nice thing to do.

Just because want to and they can.

Just because this is how life is in a small town.

We visited with the Pastor from the neighboring church, who couldn’t have been nicer. The group asked nothing for their time and efforts. This act of kindness left me wondering who else needs helps in our town. We were blessed to meet these new-found friends.

Whatever you do today, think about your town. Think of little buildings that look a little dingy because of the zephyr winds of the desert. Send a Thank-You to someone that wouldn’t expect it. Think about attending a church service. Say “Hi” to a neighbor you haven’t spoken to in awhile.

It’s Labor Day!!! Lots of people are out and about. Have a fun day getting outside yourself. Keep smiling and remember to spread a little happiness on your way.

More tomorrow.

Happy Friday, everyone!! The last days of summer are truly glorious as we await Autumn’s arrival. The vegetable garden has come to an end, with the exception of one very large pumpkin and an equally large watermelon. We haven’t quite learned the trick for deciding when I watermelon is ripe, but this one must be close. It’s enormous.

We’ve started pulling old plants while considering plans for next year. It’s important to rotate crops to experience fewer problems with pests and diseases. I wonder where the Armenian cucumbers will be planted next year? Somewhere where a certain little dog can’t get in to eat them, that’s for sure.

Yesterday, while reading the daily blog from an octogenarian friend in Ipswich, Massachusetts I couldn’t help but be inspired. At 86 years young, her main concern in life is to bring as many smiles to as many people as possible. There could be easier ways to accomplish this. You could walk through Walmart while exchanging smiles along the way. But, that wouldn’t fit Miss C’s style.

Miss C is one of the best dog trainers I’ve ever run across. When she was in her early 70’s, she started a program raising Great Dane’s for people with mobility problems. Her most famous success was a little girl named Bella and her dog George. Such a team, George went on to win recognition and awards through his life with Bella. Truly a beautiful story.

Well, like everything, life moves on. George died. Bella was crushed. Miss C just happened to have an orphan Dane named Ziti. Bella needed something to do. Now, Ziti is in training under the care of a new dog trainer. Bella! More smiles created by this busy bunch.

Miss C has some pretty hefty health concerns but that hasn’t stopped her. Noting that most assisted living facilities are void of smiles, she got to work. She now takes the discarded animals she’s found along the way and makes weekly visits all over her town. It matters not that she has a donkey and foal along for the ride. She just strolls in to provide smiles in some pretty dark places. So many people need a reason to smile.

Her farm is named Goldy’s Animal Sanctuary and she offers delightful videos online. “Goldy” stands for the “Ghost Of the Left Hand Drawer”. So often, mysterious things would happen in Miss C’s office without any explanation except that “Goldy” did it. “Goldy” has always provided necessities in unique ways exactly when needed. She deserves to have a farm named after her after all these years.

Day after day, in between the numerous doctor’s visits, Miss C heads out to find more people and more smiles with her lovely animals. As we all know, smiles are priceless and contagious. Laugher is the best medicine.

Miss C is 86. She’s not in the best health. She’s under tremendous stress. Some nights she doesn’t sleep well. But, with one foot in front of the other, she keeps going in a positive direction. We could all learn a bunch from such an example.

Whatever you do today, consider how you could do a little bit more. It doesn’t take a lot of money or time to bring a smile to someone in need. We all know someone that could use a visit or phone call. It’s a long weekend. Get Busy!

I’ll be back on Monday.

As the days go by, HHH and I are enjoying a season of gardening and learning. UNR’s Master Gardeners course has proved to be informative while convenient. The only garden we’ve visited so far is the one in our back yard, but that will change in the fall.

So far, we’ve learned about soils, plant nutrition, composting and plant propagation. Then, we moved on to herbaceous ornamentals, vegetable gardening and native plants. We’ll finish up our first class learning about woody ornamentals, tree fruits and nuts, small fruits, container gardening and finally Integrated Pest Management.

Each one of these subjects includes lots of reading and lengthy online-lectures. Every Thursday, we join ZOOM for a meeting in which questions are answered by experts. All in all, it’s been a wonderful experience.

Through each lesson, we’ve been expected to read, listen, answer all questions, and take quizzes. We’re required to pass an exam at the end of the class with a score of 80%, along with the other requirements.

After completing this course, we’ll move on to the Master Gardener class, during which we’ll be expected to do actual volunteer work in the biggest little city to the east. It’s exciting to think that by the end of December, we may have our Master Gardener Certificates.

Of course, we’ll also need to pass an extensive background check including fingerprints. Then, there’ll be face-to-face interviews with a panel of Master Gardeners who will make the final decision. When representing the Extension department of UNR through the Master Gardener program, one needs to be squeaky clean.

With all the years of gardening and farming experience, there shouldn’t be a lack of experiences to talk about. HHH had his own farming experience for 22 years. Developing a long drive and beautiful yard, he learned much about desert landscaping. No surprise that his ranch was a botanical show stopper for three seasons, and then a winter wonderland with his Christmas light display.

As for me, I’m recalling more and more information from my 20’s and 30’s, when composting, gardening, and houseplants were things I loved. Between the two of us, we have 138 years of collective knowledge of gardening and plants to be examined during our interviews.

Whatever you do today, think about trying something new. If you are lucky enough to have a Community College, see if any classes are offered for free. From art to history and everything in between, there might be something that interests you. Check it out!