Grieving Gardener

My what a week its been. Just eight days ago, HHH and I watched as the seagulls played in the ocean breezes. Tourists were enjoying their time fishing on a lonely little pier on the edge of paradise. Visiting with our favorite peeps, we never imagined that on the high desert plains we call home, things were changing forever. Sometimes, it’s a blessing not to know.

Let’s start with the pier.

Just one week prior to our vacation, storms ravaged the Central Coast. Having precious friends and relatives living in the area, I follow their local news. It’d been reported that the pier suffered some “minor damage”. Just a few little problems that could be fixed over time. After closing the pier for a few hours, it was opened once again. The pier is the gathering place of the little town shown above. In 2013,  the 150 year old structure received major repairs that cost about $3.5 million.

This pier is covered with memorial plaques bearing the names of people from my home town. One of the most interesting benches belongs to “Norman Liddell”. I must have met “Norman” many times during my toddler years. He served on the school board with my father and remained a lifelong friends. His wife, “Iola (eye’-ola)”, taught Auntie TJ in grade school. With his name affixed to the bench, I always felt I could sit and rest awhile. Norman and Iola would make sure things were safe.

The pier holds memories for many. One year, I sat and watched as very young “Life Guard” trainees did their first jump off the pier. Opening a gate, one by one the littles (10-11 year-olds) would hold their breath and jump 20 feet to the ocean below. One after the other, they faced the rite of passage through which they needed to jump.

For one little boy, the task was just too much. He cried on the long walk to the end of the pier while true friends on either side urged him on. With amazing courage, he faced his fear and jumped. We all held our collective breath, waiting for the small head to come to the surface. Sure enough, he came up waving! Victorious!! With confident strokes, he swam all the way back to the beach in record time.

Young lovers hold hand while walking on the pier. New parents carefully stroll their babies while they sleep, nestled in expensive buggies. Tourists converse in the languages of the world. Everyone understands one thing. This is one of the most beautiful places in the world.

HHH and I enjoyed our time on the pier as we watched for marine wildlife and surfers trying to catch the perfect waves. We love our pier as much as everyone else. It does feel it belongs to us when we’re there.

That is why yesterday’s news was a bit devastating.

We stood for more than a few minutes on several occasions on the very end of that pier. Quite a few pilings washed away. In the eye of the storm and in the blink of an eye, the main part of a little coastal town is now closed indefinitely.

At the very time we were enjoying our Valentine’s Day Tradition, things at home were going south.

A good friend lost his battle to cancer. A very young senior citizen, he leaves a family legacy of streets named after his family. He also leaves heartbroken sons, family, and friends. We’ll soon celebrate his life with HHH’s old friends. People known to him since childhood. It will be such a large gathering, we’ll again meet in the firehouse. And, so, in the blink of an eye, our town has changed.

You might remember a very sweet friend of mine owns our town’s flower shop. She’s well into her second year as the shop owner and doing quite well. One problem she faces on holidays is the need for dependable delivery people. Valentine’s Day is one of her biggest days of the year, and she’s always looking for help.

My dearest Harvest Sisters are always up for a challenge. We band together to help those in need and our florist was really in need. If in town, HHH and I would’ve helped, too. On only their second run, the car must’ve smelled of the lovely bouquets in the back. The Angel of the Aluminum Cloud held the directions, while our Faithful Leader drove. Turning off the highway as they had a thousand times before, they were hit by a young boy of 16 who pulled out from a stop sign into them.

He hit their little car squarely on the driver’s side with his huge truck. Airbags went off, burning the young mans forearms and saving the life of our Fearless Leader. Although no one went to the hospital that day, they’re all visiting doctor’s now. The verdict is out on damages other than the obvious. One very totaled little car. Two very experienced drivers left shaken. One unexperienced driver left traumatized. Lives changed in the blink of an eye.

Whatever you do today, take time to look both ways when driving. When walking out on a pier, do a little research to find out when it might have last been checked for faulty pilings. Hug your loved ones. For, in the blink of an eye, everything can change. After that, nothing will ever be quite the same.

More tomorrow.

After a beautiful trip to the coast, it’s good to be back in the desert with our peeps. Every great vacation must come to an end including one to the Central Coast of California. This trip has become a Valentine’s Day Tradition, staying at a private bungalow called “Bella Vista By The Sea”. With breathtaking ocean views from every window in the place, we felt like royalty. That was before visiting Hearst Castle to see the way REAL American royalty lived in days gone by.

Hearst Castle is one of the few places in the United States deserving the title “CASTLE”. In the middle of a vast cattle ranch still owned by the Hearst Corporation today, the castle sits on atop the highest mountain.

“Hearst Castle’s history begins in 1865, when George Hearst purchased 40,000 acres of ranchland. After his mother’s death in 1919, William Randolph Hearst inherited thousands of acres around San Simeon, and over time, he purchased more. The spread eventually encompassed about 250,000 acres.” _{hearstcastle.org}

With a dream in his head and a pocket full of millions, he wanted a something better than a little campsite atop the “hill”. Indeed, he accomplished his mission.

Our drive to the Visitor’s Center filled us with wonder. To the East side of Highway 1, amidst acres and acres of lush green hills grazed a large herd of zebras. Once belonging to the zoo Mr. Hearst kept, they are mascots to this coastal area. Because of governmental protection, no one will ever build on this land. It’s one of the few places along the California Coast that remains natural and wild.

Beginning our tour at the Visitor’s center in San Simeon, we caught a bus to the top of the hill. Through twists and turns on the steep road, a recorded monologue told of days gone by as we climbed higher and higher. We passed by a mile long pergola that shaded horseback on hot days. There were the empty animal compounds that once held four types of bears, including Polar bears.

We’d decided to take the tour of Casa Del Monte and Casa Del Sol, along with the kitchen, wine cellar, and pools. The smallest of the little houses was only 2550 square feet without benefit of a kitchen. The largest was the castle, at 68,500 sq. ft. In between the two was a mass of beauty and wonder.

From the dungeon that served as home to 10,000 bottles of wine and spirits, to the beauty of golden-tiled pools, the castle is a thing of beauty and wonder. If you ever have a chance to visit, do it.

After 28 years, Mr. Hearst and Julia managed to spend $10million on structures and antiquities. The beauty of all Hearst’s possessions combined couldn’t match God’s handiwork. Our sunny and warm beach vacation was enjoyed after wintering on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada.

The week before we arrived, waves crashed over cliffside homes. The pier at our tiny getaway town was closed due to minor damage from historical waves. Rivers flooded. Tornadoes touched down and hurricane force winds ripped.

From the day we arrived until the day we left, the weather calmed and the sun shone. A few days later, the torrential rains returned and the pier closed again. We enjoyed a window of calm in which to enjoy our time away. Honeymooning. There’s nothing quite so special. I think we’ll be extending this time in our lives for many years to come.

Whatever you do today, you might want to step back in time. If you’ve been to the castle, pictures and videos can transport you back to a magical time.

There are some truths in this world that cannot be denied. One of them is that cuteness protects many pets from their actions. It is certainly the truth here at Winterpast. What one of our “fur babies” doesn’t think of first, the other has already done. Worse than twin toddlers, these two are a handful. I assure you, it’s exhausting at times.

Oliver is a 5.5 year old, 30+ pound, green-eyed, cream and tan piebald, standard wire-haired dachshund with liver accents. In short, Oliver could be a pretty good stand in for Falcor.

This adorable little pup couldn’t be much trouble. Right? Pictured here at 4 months, he hadn’t gotten up to speed yet. Adult Oliver eats rocks, solar lights, and irrigation emitters. He loves leather wallets, but only if he can eat the money inside. He eats beading off expensive handbags, ID sticks for growing garden plants (wooden and sharp), and Wookie’s food.

Oliver has a weight problem, as well. At over 30 pounds, he’s not a small and cuddly doxie but a Standard Dachshund on the hunt for badgers. As badgers don’t live in our area, he’ll settle for anything else that has a crunch to it. He can and will eat all day long if there are things for him to chew on. He also loves any kind of rubber, cloth toys, and the trash bag if it’s left on the floor. He absolutely adores HHH’s favorite new hats. Winner, winner, chicken dinner!!!

Oliver is the pup on the right. I mean, really? How can your heart not melt even under the worst offenses. He has cuteness dialed in.

As for the Wookie, she’s not without blame. A high-octane designer-dog beauty, this one needs a racetrack for her antics. Running like the wind, she darts to and fro, as Oliver gives his little legs a work out. He does his best to catch her, but with her long legs, it’s impossible. Even though they weight the same, the difference in height gives Wookie the advantage every time.

She love to counter surf and dance on the dining room table. The other day she got lucky and stole a 1/2 pound pork chop out of the kitchen. As a past time, she loves watching television. Watching her is more entertaining than most of the shows we watch. Her head will turn from character to character as she listens. We’re still trying to teach her that jumping up on the brand new entertainment center for a better look isn’t a good thing. We’ve had the entertainment center for two months now.

Between the two dogs (always on high alert), we can be sure that strangers won’t get to the front door without a frantic alarm. The two jump, spin, bark, howl, and race every single time we come home creating quite a bit of turmoil in the laundry room. It will be a long time before they have run of the entire house when we’re gone.

We aren’t new dog owners. Each of us have a long list of pooches we’ve befriended throughout the year. For me, I’ve never, ever, ever had a dog as difficult as Oliver. Ever. From Shepherds to pugs, doxies to labs, Oliver is the worst of them all, hands down. I can’t speak for HHH, but as for me, I saved the worst for last. As for the Wookie, I have also never owned such an intelligent dog. Brains and beauty.

After HHH had been robbed of his wallet and money by the little cream thief, he pointed out something very true. We need to suffer through and keep Oliver forever. There aren’t two other people in this world that would put up with him. HHH does have a point there. As the human pets of two crazy canines, HHH and I get gold stars for patience.

Whatever you do today, appreciate and be grateful for your quiet and sweet pets. If you aren’t cleaning up a ripped garbage bag or trying to piece together two $5 bills, be thankful. If you do have a difficult pet, practice patience and forgiveness. They are great traits to have when living with cuties like we do.

More tomorrow.

Before I begin, let me assure you, technical difficulties kept me from writing last week. I received questions about the truthfulness of that claim. A perfect storm of inadequate WIFI, my cumbersome website, and an old laptop combined to make transmission of any posts impossible. Frustration increased with picture-perfect views of a crystal blue ocean complete with breaking waves that glistened like jewels. Now, back on the high desert plains, there are far fewer distractions and much better band-width.

What a week it was wandering out west on the beautiful beaches of the Pacific Ocean. After the insanity of primaries and caucuses, it was wonderful to check out and take a vacation. It’s been a minute since we’ve taken the dogs to Puppy Camp for an escape. Vacationing at our favorite beach town has been on the calendar since last summer. It’s now a solid Valentine’s tradition to travel to the ocean for a week of rest and relaxation. Retirement can be grueling.

As dogs go, ours are pretty normal. As two housebound winter-pups, it seemed they were getting into more trouble every day. From stealing porkchops to chewing up money, the two have been a handful. They were ready for a vacation, too.

Traveling from the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada to the beautiful Pacific Ocean isn’t for the faint of heart. Driving the shortest way, it’s an eight hour trip with minimal stops for food and breaks. I’m so thankful that HHH was willing to drive. Even more so when a large part of the trip involved traveling through snow country over Donner Pass in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. (We packed extra snacks.)

Traveling to visit Auntie TJ and the Goddess of the Central Coast is always worth every bit of effort. There are few people in the world that are more enchanting than these two coastal ladies. To be lucky enough to spend a few hours visiting with each of them is certainly more than lucky enough.

Auntie TJ is twenty years my senior. She wouldn’t mind me saying that as my own age remains a secret. Just four years older than my oldest sister, she’s always been the fun Aunt that everyone loves having around. Throughout her life, she’s shared many truths with me. A few of her newer rules involve avoiding baby showers, weddings, and funerals.

The most important rule of all is that we all need to remember laugh while having lots fun. One must practice laziness because, in our family of farmers, it doesn’t come naturally. Keep a positive attitude, even when life becomes far too serious. TJ is positively sharp and witty, even when sight and hearing frustrate her a bit some days. Every time I visit her, I learn more about life and the way I hope to be in twenty years. I’m so blessed my parents had the insight to choose HER as my God Mother.

Then, there is the Goddess of the Central Coast. I assure you, even if not bio-d on Wikipedia, there is a Goddess and she lives on the cliffs of the Central Coast. Close in age to my Auntie, you’d never identify this woman by the number of her years. She is a beautifully inspired conversationalist who is the best hostess, even in the face of adversity.

Just a few days prior to our visit, she hunkered down in her gorgeous nest as waves crashed over the top of her roof. WAVES. As in OCEAN WAVES crashing from the OCEAN. She explained that it was impossible to know from which direction the most danger could come. From the ocean waves? Or from the 35 foot tree on the street side of her property? Death from exploding windows or a crashing tree?… Hard to pick which one would be worse.

During the last three weeks, the Central Coast of California suffered through hurricane force winds, huge waves, and three tornadoes. All this in a place that usually experiences very mild weather while hovering around 72.5 degrees.

Valentines 2023 will go down in the books as our first as husband and wife. But, it will also be remembered as the day we visited with two of our favorite women in the entire world. Enchanting. That’s the word for them both. Enchanting.

With technical problems over, it’s time to focus the new website. Life returns to normal for a little while. The dogs are happy about that!!! Us, too.

Whatever you do today, be glad waves aren’t crashing over your deck and roof. Be thankful that the winds aren’t hurricane force and there aren’t tornadoes overhead. Most of all, get outside for a bit to enjoy the last days of winter. Spring is just around the corner.

More tomorrow.

Due to technical problems beyond my control, I will return on Monday, February 19th.

More then.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.