Before I go further, as Nevada is often in the news these days, please pay attention to the correct pronunciation. Nevada is pronounced ne-va’-duh NOT ne-VAHHHHHH’-duh. Although, according to phonetic rules, you’d need to disagree, trust me on this one and learn to pronounce our state’s name correctly.
There are so many names in our area that have unique pronunciation. Take, for instance, the little town of Genoa. Nestled at the base of the eastern slopes of the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range, this little town is one of the area’s oldest towns. And no, it’s name isn’t pronounced as it would be in Italy, but rather Gin’-oh-ah.
There is Moana, which isn’t pronounced as it is in Hawaii (ma-wha’-na), but rather Moe-AH’-na. And then, Kietzke Lane, which I still haven’t mastered.
Being a swing state, we’re in the news a lot these days. Every time a tv-talking-head decides to pronounce our state in a more exotic way, such as Ne-Vahhhhhhh’-da, it’s like nails on a chalkboard. It causes lots of eye rolling among the natives. So, now you won’t make that mistake when visiting!
There are so many beautiful places to see in our state. Having grown up as a neighbor in California, I never knew what I was missing. Although, I almost became a Nevadan in 1979.
With a two week old son in my lap, a little family of three set off to look for work in a town named Winnemucca. Located on a huge farm, we would’ve lived in the middle of the wide open plains not far from where I live now.
Once in Reno, the rancher picked us up at the airport to fly us to the ranch. Buzzing antelope and wild mustangs, we flew through the big, blue, beautiful sky. I envisioned a chickens and garden while watching my little boy grow into a rancher. The truth of the matter was that it was just too remote for that little family. We declined their offer of employment.
Looking back today, I wonder what my life would look like now if I’d been more adventurous. Maybe that little boy’s mother would’ve become the rancher. I’ll never know.
Whatever name our state is called, I wake up under the most brilliant blue skies in wide. I’m surrounded by a circle of mountains that tower above us. In my heart of hearts, I know I live in God’s country. All’s well that ends well. Taking an extra 35 years, I’m finally home. And around here, we all know, Home Means Nevada.
Vicissitudes of life are abundant in a family of five generations living in a small town. New changes unfold on a daily basis. Some gloriously happy. Other’s timely and full of sadness. And so life is here on the high desert plains of northwestern Nevada.
Some things in the garden never change. If you raise four zucchini plants, you will need lots of friends to take them away.
Of course, there are obvious changes heading towards autumn here on the high desert plains. With lower temperatures, the gardens of Winterpast heave a sigh of relief as they get ready for a fall bloom. The roses are expecting at least one more colorful show around the third weekend in September. And, our bees struggle on.
The big box garden center is closing down for the year. With deep discounts, a few straggly annuals are looking for homes. Now isn’t the time to buy new plants, but fertilize and care for the ones we have left. Knowing that, it took strength to turn away from the geraniums.
The best thing about gardening is that most things are predictable. There are remedies for pests and illnesses. Each plant has their time to shine and grow, followed by a predictable decline. The in-between is a gardeners happy spot.
And then, there’s the potatoes. If you’ve been reading awhile, you know HHH and I fell in love while harvesting the potato crop of 2022 and were married right after the 2023 harvest. With much sadness I must report that the 2024 potato crop was a total flop. Zero russets. About 2.5 pounds of very small potatoes out of three wine barrels. Such is the life of gardening.
Humans are much more complicated. Just when you think the changing winds of life have settled, new and challenging problems occur. 2025 graduations, new courtships, upcoming babies, first homes, and retirements are just a few of the happy changes in our family.
But, there’s another less happy one. Miss B, HHH’s mom, is moving from her beloved home into a more practical space. Yet another vicissitude of life. A hardship that’s often beyond one’s control. Age has a way of bringing hard changes to our door and the loss of independence comes sooner than expected.
Packing and making the move as a family is a beautiful thing to observe. Watching Miss B shine with courage and independence at this hard time in her life is an example to us all. There’s much to be learned while observing the vicissitudes others endure, both happy and sad.
Whatever you do today, think of your own personal vicissitudes and how you’ve gotten through by putting one foot in front of the other. It seems that works the best for most things.
Here at Winterpast, the news isn’t what we wanted to hear. Our bees are failing like so many more in Northwestern Nevada in 2024. The scary part is that there’s no obvious answer as to why. Not even the best entomologists throughout the country can identify the cause. But, when dealing with wild animals, that’s often the case.
With such optimism, we started this journey with the 2023 Christmas gift of a hive and tools. We attended classes and ordered books from which to learn. The most beautiful mentor came to Winterpast to not only help us, but to become a dear friend.
Our very calm, sweet, and expensive Saskatraz bees were delivered and “installed” into our hive. Even bee hives are available from Amazon, although a real bee keeper would never purchase one there. Live and learn the 100 reasons why while surrounded with 25,000 flying friends.
HHH has suffered through stings, while I’ve avoided them for now. All the while, we’ve watched and learned from these wonderful little creatures as the spring and summer seasons have flown by.
As it turns out, on August 6th, over 60 bee keepers came together for the monthly meeting. They all share and intense love of bees. With over 600 collective hives, only two held extra honey. The rest are in real trouble.
Wednesday, our sweet Bee Lady came to visit. With excitement, we hoped that we could be the 3rd hive that had extra honey. Unfortunately, it wasn’t to be. Our top honey super (shorter box) was completely empty. No comb. No honey crop. Nothing. Our hive is suffering just like all the rest in Northwestern Nevada. This failure is across the state, from the desert to Lake Tahoe.
Our queen may have died, but at the very least, the hive is stressed for reasons unknown to us. They’ve had food and water at the correct times. They were treated for mites. Their hive was placed in their very own private spot in the back yard. We planted every kind of flower any bee would love. And yet, they failed.
We won’t know the outcome for another month or two. It’s possible the hive will live through the winter, but as we march toward fall, the population will naturally decrease. Without the proper number of bees to warm the hive through the winter, they’ll freeze to death.
Please, pray for the bees of the world. The Bee Lady summed it up this way. Without bees, we would still have wheat for bread. However, the jams and jellies of the world would be a thing of the past. Bees bring wonderful fruits and vegetables to our lives.
If you’re bored this weekend, learn a little about bees. They’re pretty fascinating little animals. Please remember, they need our prayers. Have a wonderful weekend.
In the blink of an eye, one-half of August is gone. It seems I just placed seedlings in the ground, yet today, they’re almost done with their growing season. Crazy how fast things go as we live such busy lives. Everyone needs to take a breath and relax on a regular basis. Today is the perfect day to attend to relaxation because August 15th IS the real National Relaxation Day!
The stress of a fast paced life doesn’t give our tired minds time to rest. The added stressors of our crazy world contribute to health risks. Too much stress drains us. It’s time to rejuvenate with a little rest and relaxation.
Sometimes we just need to give ourselves permission to take a day off. It will benefit a person’s physical, spiritual, and mental health. And yes, even retired folks need to stop and smell the roses from time to time.
So today take some time and try one of the following.
Read a book
Fish with a friend
Picnic in the park
Walk along the beach
Take a drive in the country
Spa
Golf
Do some photography
Go see a movie
Window shop
Lunch with friends
Watch sports
Swim
Garden!
Remember, even if you enjoy cleaning and real work, they are not part of relaxation. So, Don’t.
As for me, I plan to sit outside and enjoy the beauty of Winterpast today. Always remember to take time to enjoy the garden you’ve worked so hard to create. If not today, When?????
Last week, it was time for an eastward drive to do bit of shopping. Lately, the clothing found at Amazon hasn’t worked. Either the sizing isn’t true or the fabric is wrong. With four purchases I found four returns and decided the old fashioned way works the best.
Just 30 minutes away, a new store opened last fall. TJ Max! In a normal sized town, this would be one of many options from which to shop. When living in the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada, this might as well be Neiman Marcus. Having lived far from city life throughout my entire life, I’m used to “going to town” to shop, so off I went.
Indeed, I found exactly what I was looking for. Along with the clothing, there were some adorable baby items for an upcoming shower. The only downside to this little store is the lengthy wait in the check-out line. Of course, the store has this figured out, placing lots of small items on the shelves leading up to checkout.
A gentleman stood just ahead of me. He was explaining his purchase to the customer between us. Appearing to be an older, single man, he’d already purchased 80 backpacks for the children in his town. In his arms, he cuddled another twelve. Nearly 100 children would benefit from his generosity. A true Random Act of Kindness.
Listening to him talk, I remembered my time in the classroom. It was important to me that children in my classroom were provided for everything they needed. One would think this would come from the school. Think again.
Each year, teachers all over our country head out to Walmart to buy all the things missing in their school’s supply cabinet. In my last school, there weren’t even pencils available the week before school. Of course, being a veteran teacher, this came as no surprise. Administration sent out a lengthy supply list for young parents to purchase for their children.
Add to that list clothing, shoes, fresh haircuts, lunch materials, and the parents already have enough on their plates. The supplies would always be last on that list. Many times, the kids come with nothing. If you teach, you already know that. Just part of the job.
As it turned out, this gentleman had already been to Walmart, buying supplies for each of the twelve backpacks. The best part of the entire situation was that he was enjoying himself as much as the kids would when opening his gift.
This year is tough for everyone. If you happen to be thinking about something kind to do, consider donating to your local school. Yes, we already do with school taxes. That much is true. However, all over the country, there are supply closets that are empty. There are new teachers wondering where they’ll find the pencils they need. Parents deciding on groceries or school supplies.
If you aren’t sure of specific needs, call your school secretary. She will know exactly how you can help.
Today is the day! With a lot on our minds, I hope you will excuse us as we get ready to race out the door. The days of worrying about upcoming Wooklets will now be a thing of the past. Wookie is getting spayed!
Wookie was part of a breeding agreement with family members. We got all the love, giggles, and wiggles, while she gave life to three litters. Now, her life will be her own. Although she may not feel like it for a few days, she’ll be much, much happier.
While waiting for our Wookie, HHH and I are going to take a picnic lunch and travel to Berlin, NV to see the Berlin-Ichthyosaur State Park.
“Berlin-Ichthyosaur State Park contains a town built in the 1890s that is preserved in a state of arrested decay. A true Nevada ghost town, many of Berlin’s original buildings remain and some of its original residents are interred in the town’s cemetery. Trails throughout the town site tell the story of Berlin and its mine. The park is also home to the most abundant concentration, and largest known remains, of Ichthyosaurs, an ancient marine reptile that swam in a warm ocean that covered central Nevada 225 million years ago. The fossils are protected and displayed at the park’s Fossil House.”https://parks.nv.gov/parks/berlin-ichthyosaur
A full day of site seeing will help HHH and I keep our mind occupied until our girlie is ready to go home. Especially exciting for me, visiting this site has been on my bucket list for years! Stay tuned for a report on the experience.
During Wookie’s recuperation, Oliver will continue enjoying his time at puppy camp. With stitches and post-surgical discomfort, the last thing she needs is a pesky boy bothering her. She’ll be happy to see him on Thursday when she’s well on the road to recovery.
If you have a dog or cat that isn’t spayed or neutered, please consider doing them a favor and get it done.
All prayers and well wishes for Wookie are greatly appreciated.
It’s delightful when something in life comes so full circle it provides a story for a boring Monday morning.
Many months ago, before the 1st Annual Winterpast Garden Party, CC and I were shopping in a garden and home store. Not really a shopper, I usually just browse. On rare occasions, something adorable I must have and so it was on that day.
Along with bee napkins for the party, I found an irresistible coffee mug decorated with a magnificent queen bee surrounded by flowers. It would be the perfect cup from which to sip morning coffee at the computer. Aside from being beautiful, it came in a matching gift box which would keep it safe on my long journey back to Nevada. Also finding a secret gift for CC, I paid and we left.
Once back home, HHH was busy preparing for his annual golf trip. He’d be out of town for the garden party and was interested in all the plans. I showed him the napkins and new cup.
“Oh, that cup is great. You know who need that cup?”
In that moment, my inner voice was saying, “Me. I need the cup. I love the cup. I bought this cup. It will inspire wonderful stories.”
My outer voice replied, “Who would that be?”
Whooo?
“Well, our friend and mentor, Miss Bee.”
Immediately, I knew he was absolutely right. Miss Bee has been with us every step of the way. She has mentored us in the most gentle way, helping us to be the best bee parents we can be. HHH was right. There was no other person that should have this cup. Certainly not me. It already belonged to Miss Bee so at the garden party, I gave it to her. It was meant to be her cup and that was that.
About a week later, a strange package arrived in the mail from CC. We don’t often exchange gifts, so I was puzzled as to what it could be. Once I opened the box, I almost cried. There, nestled in tissue was the same adorable bee cup in its cute-as-bee’s-wings box. Secretly, she’d gotten it for me, not knowing I bought one already! She certainly didn’t know I’d given mine away without even using it once.
The cup is perfect in every way and definitely my favorite. Every morning I’m reminded of the fabulous time we spent together.
And, for a time the box would wait for a job. It might take time, but I’d find just the right treasure to secret into the box as a gift.
Well, weeks passed. We gardened. HHH got stung almost a dozen times in less than 30 minutes. He broke his Maui Jim sunglasses in the process and I sent them away with a note about the way in which the glasses became cracked. After all, if I repaired broken glasses, I might be curious how the break occurred.
Two weeks ago, we got the nicest note from the repair department. You see, we’d twice used their repair services in the spring. In this note, the sweetest associate send her best wishes after such a terrible accident and wished HHH well. She’d only charge us 50% of the normal repair cost as we’d had a little run of bad luck. In this crazy world, it takes Maui Jim -Peoria, Illinois nice to do something so sweet. We’d need to share a little Nevada high desert plains nice in return.
Out came the box. Inside went 4 oz. of our 2024 crop of Winterpast honey with a note of thanks. After careful wrapping, off it went. Last week, I got a reply.
“Thank you for the delicious honey. By the way, this is the cutest little box. I plan to find a special use for it……”
Sometimes even an empty box can spread friendship and happiness.
Smile today to share in “National Happiness Happens” Day. This is one national day that has merit. Although, it reminds me of those in Japan taking lessons to practice smiling. With all the stress in the world, we need a day to remind Americans that Happiness Happens when nurtured.
The Secret Society of Happy People (SOHP) was founded in August of 1998 to celebrate the expression of happiness. The society encourages members to recognize happy moments and be grateful for happiness in their daily life. They have two motto’s which include “Happiness Happens” and “Don’t Even Think of Raining on My Parade.” Their main purpose is to stimulate the right of everyone to express their happiness.
In 1999, the Secret Society of Happy People created “Admit You’re Happy Day” which eventually evolved into “Happiness Happens Day” created to celebrate the expression of happiness. August 8th was chosen because it’s the anniversary of the first membership in 1998.
Today, recognize every moment of glee, joy, delight, and pleasure. Don’t let it pass. Most importantly, giggles should be encouraged and allowed to blossom into full-blown laughter. Happeniness happens!
Today, more than on any other, please don’t rain on anyone’s parade. Somedays the happiness of others might be a bit irritating. Excessive giggling might try our patience, especially when the day’s been a bit rotten. However, personal trials don’t give anyone the right to squash another person’s joy. Instead, recognize the day’s delights. Just maybe, the smiles of others will part the storm clouds and allow a little sun to shine on your heart.
Whatever you do today, look for ways to share the blessing of happiness with others.
Minions courtesy of” “Despicable Me”. Try not to smile during THIS movie…… Just saying.
In heaven, when blogging, it won’t be necessary to depend on a computer. In perfection, there’ll exist an endless stream of fascinating words, with no need to type them on a keyboard. While envisioning a blog site, it will appear complete with lots of music and pictures. What bliss for a creative writer.
There’ll be no frantic morning search for a topic, silly errors, or mistyped words. Just perfect grammar and delightful blogs on a variety of topics, all enchanting and informative.
Real life is far from that dream. In fact, some mornings, the computer turns the day upside down. This isn’t a unique problem, but common to many approaching 70. The problems have changed over the years, but the newest is something unexplainable.
Early on in my writing adventure, it was suggested that pictures be added to each daily post. At the time, adding pictures was a step too far for a new widow deep in her own fog. Someday, when I’m bed ridden and on deaths doorstep, those posts may get some attention. With almost four years of material, it’ll be a sizeable job to go back and populate everything with stock images.
Images glue the story together, and choosing the correct ones is almost as much fun as writing. Even better if the perfect song comes to mind. But, there is a fly in this ointment.
Writing is magical at any time, day or night, but comes easiest at 1:00 pm. With house and garden work finished, there is always a little window of quiet in the early afternoon. After finishing the written work, stock images from Googles are inserted into the piece. There are pictures of everything, even Bread and Butter pickles and bierocks.
Would personal pictures work? Sure. However, this increases the frustration of transferring them from phone to this site. Not good. A Google search works much better.
In the last few weeks, the pictures will remain visible from 10 minutes to 10 hours and then, POOF, they disappear. If I haven’t returned to the blog, I have no idea of the change. There’ll be a cryptic message instead of the intended pic.
Wonderful readers, if this happens, you can do one of two things. You can email me with this information, or just let it go, knowing a beautiful picture was erased by the Gods of the Cyber Clouds.
Whatever you do today, check on gardens and projects once in awhile. Cucumber plants can be decimated by a hungry little dog. Carefully selected pictures can disappear in the blink of an eye. Life. If it’s not one thing is another. Just the way it is traveling west.
A few weeks ago, HHH and I shared the most beautiful evening with friends. Our beloved Bee Lady and her friend invited us for an enchanting evening at her farm. Think of a lovely farm setting overlooking a field of alfalfa. The side yard dotted with more than ten lovely bee hives. The corral filled with three amazing donkeys, as cute as they could be. Luscious lawn, beautiful flowers, and gorgeous shade trees. Tranquil beauty at its best.
As I said before, her home is as lovely as they come. It makes me think back to my time at the ranch. I know how much work it takes to make a ranch look picture-book lovely. I’ve been there and done that. It’s time consuming, back braking, and never ending.
It’s magical when Miss Bee Lady and I share stories. Having both been farmer’s widows, we understand the shared stories, even though they happened in two different states. Any farm wife shudders at the word “irrigation” and all that encompasses. At one time or another, every farm wife has had the irrigation story to end all.
Stories of long rides in open-windowed pickup trucks when the smell of mowed alfalfa is intoxicating. Spring evenings when the whole world is one big sprout. Harvest abundance so great it drowns you in zucchinis. Quiet evenings on the farm when you listen to hear the faint hoot of an owl calling her littles to come out for flight school. Crickets. Doves. The wail of coyotes. So many memories known only to those that are lucky enough to have farmed.
Looking around her lovely ranch made me remember funny things that happened on my own. One of the best that comes to mind is when I was put in charge of buying phone line.
This was in the early 1990’s when there was still a need for something called a “Land Line” or phone wired into the house walls. For the first few years on the ranch, we had to pay a hefty charge because our drive way was the boundary for two separate phone companies. If our house had been on the east side of the drive, it would have saved us $70 a month. But, because it was on the west side, we were charged the fee on the 1st of every month on top of the regular bill of $17.92/ month.
After learning we needed a POTS line (Plain Old Telephone Service), a phone representative suggested installing a pole and phone line on the East side and then running an overhead line overhead to the West side of the drive and into our house.
Easy Peazy. After paying a hefty amount for the purchase and installation of a real, honest to goodness power pole, we were ready for the line.
I went to the best hardware store in town. The kind that has everything Lowe’s or Home Depot are lacking. Upon explaining that I needed to buy wire for the phone system, he explained that they were all out.
However, I could buy 300 feet of six strand Gopher-Proof sprinkler wire that would do the trick.
Now, at the time, I was still blonde and cute. But, even at that time, I knew that 300 feet of Gopher-Proof sprinkler wire was going to do nothing but irritate my husband to the max. The associate assured me that it would work perfectly, so I made my non-returnable purchase.
When my husband got home, he was absolutely pleased that I was so innovative. To my total amazement, it would absolutely work. Maybe even better than real phone line.
And so, for 15 years, all phone calls originated in the middle of our 40 acre vineyard, stretching 300 feet to the ranch house roof where our phone would ring. That line carried messages of graduations, harvests, job offers, incoming weather, births, deaths, and everything in between. As far as I know, the line is still in use today.
Whatever you do today, think about funny stories in your own life and jot them down. Life was so different in the 1900’s. Simpler. Cleaner. More honest. Something hard to describe unless you were there. How blessed I am to have experienced such a life.
We are now the Produce Pals at church. Each Sunday, we’ve come with our buckets full of fresh food, and each Sunday, everything disappears. Next year, there’ll be only one zucchini plant. Never have I ever seen vegetables grow so fast!!! You can Monday morning and by the Tuesday, you have a mega squash at your feet.
Oliver is living up to his reputation as the trouble maker here at Winterpast. It’s partly my fault, I’ll admit. At the beginning of the growing season, I gave Tanner and Ollie a taste of an Armenian Cucumber. Just a little taste. They both LOVED their snack, gobbling up every single bit. They now not only love cucumber, but also yellow squash and bell peppers.
It’s the one thing in the garden that takes me back to my childhood. Each year, I was Oliver. After school, I’d run to the garden and steal green peppers, cherry tomatoes, and Armenian cucumbers. With such a clean, delicious taste, the cucumbers were my favorite.
These not only taste delicious, but they look beautiful when sliced. They have appeared to have been hand scalloped with a dainty little knife.
Each year, I’d help my mother with the canning. I always enjoyed this time of year because she truly needed our help. We’d harvest the cucumbers and cut them in thin, even slices. She’d bring the brine solution to a boil and “raw pack” the cucumbers, turning them into Bread and Butter Pickles. These were a family favorite over the winter holidays when our garden was empty.
This year, I struggled to get the cucumber seedlings to sprout. They took forever and then suffered with a bit of fungus. After applying NEEM oil, they slowly came back to life. They’d be healthy now if Oliver hadn’t trampled all the vines looking for cucumbers to steal.
Oy. Vey.
Dog for sale. Dog for sale.
Well, never mind. You’d bring him right back. We’re stuck for the long haul with Ollie. No one else would understand him like we do.
I finally collected four cups of sliced cucumbers and found Bread and Butter Pickle seasoning mix at a local hardware store. Adding water, sugar, and white vinegar, the cucumbers magically turned into pickles. I hope my vines have enough strength to grow a few more. I’d love to make another batch.
The simplest smells or tastes can transport me back to my childhood. German Sausage. Bread and Butter Pickles. Bierocks (a German version of a hot pocket). Homemade egg noodles. Unbelievably ripe and juicy fruit of any kind you can name. Simpler times so many years ago.
Whatever you do today, think about a food from your childhood and try a new recipe. There are recipes for every type of food imaginable on the internet. You only need to look. Remember to add, “World’s Best” and look for recipes that have five starts. Happy cooking!
One hundred eighty eager gardening students packed the classroom yesterday to begin a nine week course to earn our Home Horticulture Certificate. Things are so different than when I enter California State University, Fresno in September, 1977. The biggest change is that college is online now. All 180 students fit nicely on the face of our iPads in one ZOOM session.
I’ll never get used to ZOOM classes. Yesterday, most of the students chose to turn off the video, leaving their image square black. Scrolling down, square after square was empty. Then, there were those who thought it cute to put a stuffed animal in their place. I’m not sure exactly what the other gardeners looked like, if they were even watching the presentation.
Our course will focus on many aspects of expert gardening knowledge. In the first week, we’ll be learning about soil, plant nutrients, and composting. I’ve never been too keen on the thought of composting, but after this investment of time and energy, I suppose we’ll develop a compost pile. It will be a good use of the leaves that should start dropping next week. With 35 mature deciduous trees, it’s probably best we recycle the leaves.
During today’s reading assignment, I absorbed details about soil texture, structure, and pH. Getting a garden to grow in the desert is an art. Although HHH and I have created a small miracle in the gardens of Winterpast, there are many more things we need to learn to fine tune our art. We’ll now better understand our successes and failures.
After soils and composting, we’ll be covering plant propagation, plants varieties, container gardening and pest management. All this in nine weeks, through an impressive curriculum created by real gardeners in our area.
The first Master Gardener Program began in 1972 in Washington. Now there are programs in all 50 states. The goal of the program is to train gardeners to educate community members of all ages about the art of gardening. Lovely!! Throughout the United States, there are thousands of people just like HHH and me that will donate their time to help others grow things. It’s quite amazing, actually.
After Part 1 of the course is completed, we’ll move into Part 2. During this part, we’ll need to apply to become a Master Gardener, after passing a background check and another exam. All this should be finished by the end of December, 2024. Followed with hours of volunteer work throughout 2025.
One point not lost on HHH and I was that our county isn’t represented by an Master Gardener Extension Office. We’ll just need to see about that! With the population growth we’re experiencing, our community will need expertise to help all the new home owners moving our way.
I’m sad to say there’s no need for a new back pack or lunch box. We’ll interact with instructors and classmates right from our kitchen counter while learning. Our books are online and all quizzes and tests will be taken on a screen. No late nights cradling a hard cover school book while juggling multiple cups of coffee. Just lots of screen time.
It’s sad that HHH and I won’t have the opportunity to stroll through the UNR campus while holding hands on the way to class. No stolen kisses between the library stacks during hours of research. Not in this day and age. So far, modern campus life is overrated.
HHH and I are already dreaming of the opportunities our Master Gardener Certificates will bring us. All this stemming from something we love dearly. Our favorite pastime. Spending time in the garden.
Please enjoy something fun this weekend. Spend time with family and friends. Go for a walk. Watch a good movie. Do something that makes you smile. Life is short!! Enjoy the moments we have!
Fortune cookies are one of my favorite parts of any Chinese meal. In our little town, there is no shortage of Asian food. We have three existing restaurants and a Panda Express on the way. Our favorite is owned by a young man who bought the establishment from his dad. The food is always fresh, hot, and delicious.
At the end of our last meal, we carefully selected a fortune cookie for our own. Mine said, “Don’t pursue happiness — create it.” Truer words haven’t been spoken. The more you chase a butterfly, the quicker it will fly away. But, stand still and it just might settle on your shoulder. Happiness can elude those that run after it.
While chasing happiness, the focus is on things missing in life rather than true blessings resulting in frustration and unhappiness. This results in a spiral towards UN-happiness. Not productive. Be grateful for all life’s blessings because there are thousands plus one.
By doing enjoyable things that have personal meaning while staying connected with others your life will move in a positive direction. Of course, there are some days things don’t all come together. It just means you get up the next day and try again. Live gives us many opportunities for re-do’s.
HHH and I have found happiness while enjoying our first year of marriage. I’m not sure when the honeymoon phase may end, but we’re expecting it won’t. Slowly, we’re finding schedules and hobbies that work for each of us, while protecting time for each other.
The most rewarding hobby we share in common is gardening. Both of us can’t wait for the sun to rise so we can get outside and tend to the plants. What one of us hasn’t observed in the garden, the other will.
“Have you seen….?”
“Why, yes I have! Isn’t it wonderful!”
As we “OOOhhhh” and “AAAhhhhh” throughout our garden, I wonder what the surrounding neighbors are thinking. I’m sure it sounds as if we’re finding gold in the garden. Perhaps we are!
Yesterday, we decided our very first “Hearts of Gold” cantaloupe was ready to pick. Nervously, we cut into it to find beautiful orange flesh of perfect sweetness and texture. Our first. These bring $10 a piece at the upcoming cantaloupe festival. Well, maybe we are growing gold!
The zucchinis, squash, eggplant, bell peppers, and tomatoes are in full production. We’re done with all the fruit except pears, which are always last. The strawberry bush is enjoying the cooler weather while roses and flowers continue to put on a show.
With our love for gardening, it was a no brainer that we’re both attending University to take a Master Gardeners Course. University of Nevada, Reno is offering the class which begins with a zoom conference today at noon. How fun to meet other gardeners in the area who love plants as much as we do.
Whatever you do today, think about growing something before winter comes. Herbs are a nice place to start. We plan to dehydrate basil, oregano, thyme, and chives for use in our Thanksgiving dinner. As a matter of fact, we’ll be enjoy our homegrown potatoes and bread butter pickles then, as well. Give it some thought. It might become your new hobby.
While enjoying a great conversation a few days ago, my bestie, CC, and I discussed the blessings found in new friendships. Enjoying a mindful minute, I too time to reflect on our conversation while appreciating how beautifully my friendships have bloomed while continuing to grow. Sometimes, it’s easy to believe these things just happen by themselves. The truth is that great friendships take work.
Communication is key to any successful relationship. When I first met HHH, we both agreed that honest and continual communication would be the cornerstone to our marriage. Speaking and listening are both necessary to nourish any deep relationship. While enjoying our first year of marriage, we continue to learn about each other through healthy conversations.
It’s also important to make time for those you love. Thinking back to my childhood, I remember days when neighbors would stop by just to say “Hello”. My dad would actually stop working to sit under the Mulberry tree a spell. Mom would bring out fresh lemonade and cookies, while kids were expected to be seen and not heard. Country folk know how to enjoy a visit under the tree to discuss the latest crop prices or talk of upcoming weather. Nothing better than making time for a friends!
Here in the desert, surprise visits aren’t something experienced very often. On Sunday, I enjoyed one from a friend who dropped off a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. Such unexpected kindness was special, indeed.
She and I recently found ourselves needing to find forgiveness over a silly misunderstanding. Both being stubborn and silly, we’d been at an arm’s length until she broke the ice. The misunderstanding came about because of texting. It’s my suggestion that no one depends on texting for important things. When did it become too cumbersome to call someone to talk for a minute? Oy. Vey. This crazy world in which we live.
At any rate, with mutual apologies offered and forgiveness accepted, our friendship lives to bloom another day. With continued communication, respect, empathy and flexibility, I see us being friends until we are old and grey.
Oh wait…… we ARE old and grey.
Well, you get the picture.
Remember, true friends love you unconditionally. They are with you without judgement through the ups and downs of life. If you start to derail, they’re confidant enough to help you get back on track. Though you may not always agree, during bad times they’ll have your back. Most importantly, they can be trusted to speak highly of you when you aren’t there to defend yourself.
Yes, friendships in the garden of life are the most beautiful blooms of all. Whatever you do today, take inventory of your own besties and give them a call. It’s been too long.
AT this very moment is your glass half full or half empty? Your experiences today may depend on that question and how often you choose to see it as full. Every single day, happiness is a choice we all make. Even on the darkest days, you can choose to leave the drapes closed or get up and go with the flow.
Consistently happy people seem to look at situations in life to find the good. In 2020, when grief was new, small miracles lifted my spirits every day. That I could be lifted up was a miracle in itself. Some of those miracles were hard to see at the time. Once I opened my eyes, I saw them surrounding me every day.
Take, for instance, the fact that I moved to a new house and town just 17 days after becoming a widow. Everything I’ve ever read on widowhood would’ve advised against going through a complicated sale and purchase of two properties, and the move that followed. And yet, that was exactly the thing I needed to do. I was blessed things worked out the way they did.
At the time, Covid was new. The quarantine was very real, with almost everyone hunkered down in their homes. For a woman that hadn’t driven in six years, this was golden. I could get in my Barbie Jeep and go.. And, I did, while enjoying the empty roads of the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada.
During those days of quarantine, I enjoyed a beautiful boat ride by myself on a Lake Tahoe Yacht, the Bleu Wave. I spent nights in several casinos and slept well because there were not many guests to make noise. I ate out often at restaurants that remained open. All the while, I had time to grieve quietly, remembering what I needed to remember and forgetting the parts I chose not to.
It was during those early days I found I’d been ignoring my relationship with God. I fixed that, learning so much during hours of Bible Study. As my soul became stronger, so did earthIy relationships, forming friendships I still rely on today.
Slowly, I found the strength to rid myself of things I’d no longer need. I sold my beloved RV, while accepting I’d never have another. I made myself a beautiful nest in which to heal and did the best I could to provide myself with nourishment each day. I found I love the quiet more than anyone should and became best friends with my God AND my own soul.
So many in life don’t have the ability or will to take a step beyond the date someone dies. For whatever reason, they find themselves lingering in an empty room waiting for some answers. I did that for a time. Then, after finding strength on a mountain top in an early summer wind storm, I finally released my beloved to the universe. By releasing him, I found freedom in my own soul. Life could finally move on.
My glass through the entire process remained overflowing with goodness. With the help of family and friends, growth occurred in spite of the tragedy of cancer. Looking back with a grateful heart, I’m thankful God surrounded me with earthly angels. They all took turns carrying me when I was sure I couldn’t take another step alone.
Was it easy? NOPE. Did I wake up every morning to the question — 1/2 Full or 1/2 Empty? You betcha. Some days, it was just impossible and I’d choose sleep over wakefulness. But, I usually concluded that 1/2 full was better than empty of anything and went on. After awhile, it was just easy to choose happiness, because after everything is said and done, it IS a choice.
Whatever you do today, think about all the wonderful things that’ve happened to you since your loss and be thankful. Life is a series of journeys. Some are just plain great, while others are the most difficult in life. Look for the good in life as you make your way. You’ll be surprised how much beauty surrounds you!!
Celebrated each year on July 26, National All or Nothing Day allows people to throw caution to the wind and go for broke. Everyone holds unfulfilled dreams, unmade decisions, or uncompleted plans. On this day, people break free of everything holding them back and Go For Broke!!!
In 2020, I’d never blogged a day in my life. With so much to share, I decided I was ready to publish my thoughts. On one autumn afternoon, I created Grieving Gardener, posting my first blog on September 24. Since then, I’ve never looked back.
Is there room for improvement? Of course. Is every word spelled correctly, or every bit of grammar correct? Nope. But, this much is true. I’ve found the words I’d lost for so long. As each month passes, my writing has improved. I’ll continue to write for the rest of my life. It all started with that first blog so long ago.
Everyone has at least one obstacle they’d like to conquer or overcome. It may be that fear or hesitancy is holding you back. So make today YOUR September 24. Make a plan, take a first step and move towards it.
Whether you make a public announcement, apply for the job you’ve been eying, or mend a fence, sometimes we need to take a different path. While other days on the calendar don’t urge us to make a decision or change, this one does.
So…..
1.Define your goal.
2. Write down the first three steps to move toward that goal.
3. Enlist help from a friend or family member to encourage you. You can even choose a challenge you can do together.
4. Get out there and tackle it!
Some of the biggest changes in our lives start with small steps. Often they are gut-wrenching decisions because we rarely know whether the outcome will be successful. But how will we ever grow if we don’t keeping reaching for those dreams?
Whatever you do today, make a decision. Make a plan. Inform others of your goal. Most importantly, Go For Your Dreams!!!
This week, we’ve been enjoying the best evening thunder and lightning storms since I moved here in 2020. With conditions just right, we’ve had nightly flash flood warnings, along with maps of lightning strikes within miles of Winterpast. The storms should continue through the weekend, with rain pouring out of the sky every evening between 4 and 6 PM.
After long summer days of 100+ degree temperatures, the clouds roll in and the wind begins to howl. A little while later, the water comes down in sheets. Such a beautiful ending to hot summer days, although Oliver and Wookie remain a bit confused. Until now, water usually comes out of the hose or sprinkler system. They’re not so sure about this new arrangement.
With only a few days of evening rain, the desert has again come alive. The sage brush is greening as it sits in puddles of fresh water. Plants that seemed dead on Monday are growing green today. Such an amazing place in which we live.
Flash floods in the desert are a very real threat. When the water comes down so quickly, it has no where to go. Following the terrain of the land, it flows downward towards the big canal running through our town. It matters not if roadways happen to be in the way. It just flows on.
If you live in a desert environment, you probably already know that driving through such an event is not a smart thing to do. A car can begin hydroplaning, causing the driver to lose control.
Hydroplaning can occur when there is very little water on the road. It happens when your tires lose the grip on the roadway, and instead travel on a film of water reducing the ability to steer and brake. Your speed, tire tread, and vehicle weight can contribute to the danger. Never choose to drive through flowing flood waters. Turn around, don’t drown.
While the evening rains continue, the mustangs are coming down from the hills. On our travels during the last two days, we have seen hundreds of horses of all ages. Many foals have been born this spring, hanging out with their bands. Today, we saw our first two mustangs munching on the neighbors lawn.
Normally, the mustangs live high in the surrounding hills. In the spring, they have plenty to eat and drink. As the summer goes on, by August, the food and water are gone and they come begging down to the low lands. It’s then we start to see conflicts between the horses and people.
These horses, although smaller than domestic horses, still weigh approximately 1500 lbs. Hitting something of this size is fatal for motorcycle riders. It can definitely hospitalize or kill the driver or a car or truck, as well. Dark horses on a dark night are nearly impossible to see when driving 65 mph along the worlds loneliest highway, a problem for which there is no easy answer. Horses and motorists don’t mix.
Remember to slow down on wet roads. Avoid using cruise control. Try to go around puddles or standing water. Don’t tailgate, but give yourself plenty of time to stop.
You may have heard of the quick, easy way to check tread depth — just take a penny and place it in one of the tire’s grooves with Abe Lincoln’s head facing the base of the groove. If the tread doesn’t cover any part of Lincoln’s head, the tire is at or below 2/32nd of an inch and should be replaced. Please don’t drive on bald tires.
Most of all, at this time of year, listen for weather updates. If at all possible, choose to stay home. Summer thunderstorms are unpredictable and can be deadly. Yesterday, less than two miles from Winterpast, one person went to heaven, while three others took the earthly route to the hospital. Be careful before, during, and after summer rains.
Whatever you do today, enjoy these summer days. There are just 58 days until the first day of autumn. Summer is indeed a lovely time of year!! Take time to make the best of it!!
Life can get messy sometimes. There are minor things like October weddings and March cruises far more fascinating than sitting at a desk shredding and filing. As time goes on, the paperwork just stacks up. Two weeks ago, I decided to take the bull by the horns and get organized.
I started with the shredder, getting rid of all documents more than seven years old. It’s so freeing to watch financial papers turn into tiny bits of paper snow flakes. The shredder is a wonderful tool that can make fast work of all kinds of unwanted documents. No need to store box after box of paper when they are way past the expiration date of seven years.
Next, I emptied a wonderful file drawer in my desk. Again, emptying out all the unnecessary documents, I had a clean place to put my important documents.
A few weeks before, I had heard about a great product. The NOKBox. NOK stands for Next-of-Kin. This organization system is designed to ask questions about your home, cars, insurance, health, income, and end of life wishes. I decided on NOKBox Lite. Along with this, I needed a filing crate, fifteen hanging files, 67 file folders, paper, and a printer. Once the necessary items were at hand, I was ready to begin.
The “NOKBox” system came with detailed instructions that make failure impossible. Each section has a checklist detailing what you need. It’s up to you to find, print, and file. As simple as that.
As a retired teacher, organization has always been key to a happy life. It’s frustrating to spend hours looking for a certain document, key, or item. Much easier to have them at your fingertips. With great instructions, I began organizing my life. I’m almost done.
With each new question, I cleaned up details of my life. Many of my accounts were under my old name. I can assure you, Joy Hurt left the building many months ago. It was good to make sure HHH would have access to our accounts, should something happen to me.
Over the last nine months, I have called the utility companies on several occasions to change my name. In this day and age, you would think this would be easy. Nope.
“Oh Yes. Please send an original copy of your original identification along with certified copies of your marriage license. Then, we will forward this to our document specialist who will………” Shred the whole mess. I’m sure of that, because over nine months, the name remained unchanged on three accounts after multiple contacts.
With the NOKBox and new-found patience, I do believe my name is changed on everything. One of the most difficult things associated with getting married in 2023.
The NOKBox took a jumble of paperwork and put it all in a space no bigger than a bankers box of current information. As I went through, I realized I might need to rethink my car insurance, as it’s gotten quite high. It made me reexamine my bank accounts, choosing which ones needed to be closed. With every question, I became more organized, which is a great feeling.
A nice thing about retirement is that the retiree (me) finally has time to do these sorts of things. With everything in order, there’s no need to stress about the “What If’s??” of life, because all the information is organized and ready to go.
Whatever you do today, organize a drawer. When you start, plan to get ride of five things in the drawer. Once you start, you may get rid of ten things. Then, keep going. WE all carry so much extra baggage. Get going! It’s time to purge.
It takes a lot for any man to cancel his tee-time with family and friends. That’s just what happened yesterday, as HHH continues to heal from a dozen bee stings. After a very quiet weekend, he continues to heal but it’s slow going.
Saturday morning, I woke up to a very swollen husband. With a sting above the eyebrow, his eye was swollen shut. His biceps resembled PopEye’s. The sting sites itched like crazy. HHH was poisoned with venom.
Oy. Vey.
I asked multiple times if a trip to ER was necessary. Each time the answer was “NO”. I watched his breathing as he napped throughout the day as the swelling stabilized. He’s been one sick husband.
Throughout this ordeal, the thought of living without bees is not yet a consideration. Rule #1 — Always suit up. This rule was ignored during an invasive procedure. The bees did what they do and HHH paid the price. We may change our minds, but for now, the bees stay.
It must be hard for some to understand. The calming affect the bees have on us on most days is amazing. To watch their little society of 50,000 individuals working together for the good is awe inspiring. Right now, they’re struggling a bit to establish themselves, but they haven’t given up. Last Friday, they defended the hive and HHH was in the way.
With home remedies of Advil for the swelling, and Benadryl and Hydrocortisone Cream for the itching, HHH is healing. Days later, he’s still not back to normal, but improves every day.
While couch bound, HHH and I had time to sit and watch the electric changes in our country. If you blink, you might miss something major. With time to really listen to coverage from BOTH the left and right, I realized this.
Over the past eight years, I’ve forgotten what it means to REALLY listen and consider different points of view. A simple-minded person will jump on any band wagon and cheer for the winning team. With blinders on, it’s easy to plant a flag and die on a hill, even if you haven’t heard a word the leader has said.
Same thing when slinging arrows. It’s a mob mentality when people accept rumors as the truth. We are so much better than that.
It should come at no surprise that I live on the right side of politics. I’ve never owned a Nazi flag or a white robe. I collect guns I don’t intend to shoot very often. I love our beautiful country. I want the best for every CITIZEN. The American Dream brought my ancestors from the grips of truly evil dictators. Many of my ancestors were sent to die in the REAL Siberia. I support the idea of MAGA which means Make America Great Again. Right now, America is struggling. We need great new ideas. We’re in trouble.
Just as the angry bees died before they could realize HHH was one of the good guys, many of us have lost relationships without ever listening to a candidate speak for more than a few soundbites. Not good. Any person is much more than some edited clips. There ARE reporters that can cover stories fairly on BOTH sides of the aisle. Again, we just need to flip the channels and take time to listen to what is being said.
I challenge you to find a candidate you really dislike and listen closely to one speech. Just one. From start to finish. Look for signs of Nazi flags or hate speech in the crowd. Look for the tone and cadence of the speaker. Look and judge for yourself. You may find you’ve been sold a bill of goods. While doing this, please remember that NO ONE deserves to be shot by an assassins’ bullet. No One.
This is the most important political season of our lifetime. When you choose your candidates, make sure to listen to words of your leaders carefully. Watch their actions. Consider both sides. Make your best decision based on facts, not personalities. Our country depends on it.
Whatever you do today, enjoy the great outdoors. If you see bees, watch before you run. Run, don’t swat. And follow Rule #1. Always suit up for the job.
This picture detects what I’ll look like when I finally get stung. It hasn’t happened yet, but I can’t say the same for poor HHH. Friday morning was one to forget, and quickly.
The Bee Lady and her fiend, Anti-Mite Man, came for a visit to our hives early Friday morning. Bees these days all suffer from an invasive mite that infects the bees and weakens the hive. Every few weeks during the summer, the Anti-Mite Man comes equipped with oxalic acid gas, which kills the Verona mites and any others hanging about.
Now, bees don’t think kindly to people inserting gas into their hive and then covering the opening with the wet towel for five minutes. Whether or not they remembered this man, I can’t say. All I know is that when the hive was opened, the bees became very unhappy. It could have also been caused by the fact that no smoke was used before opening the hive.
At any rate, I was raking a good distance from the hive when an angry bee tried to sting me. Thank goodness my long hair was in the way and I flew into the house, unscathed. But, HHH had been standing near the hive without his bee-keepers suit. Our usually kind, sweet, and docile bees went for him.
As he was swatting and asking them to back off, he accidentally knocked off one $2500 hearing aide into the tall bushes while making it to the back porch. By that time, he had been stung six times, once in the face above his eye.
After coming in to remove the stingers, HHH again tried to go outside and they were on him again, as he suffered through two more stings. At any point, this situation could’ve become deadly. I was glad the epi-pens were on the counter at the ready. Luckily, there was no immediate reaction.
As our friends were leaving, the bees were still on the attack, getting HHH two more times, at which point his very expensive Maui Jim Sunglasses fell to the pavement and shattered. Repair cost — $100.
Now, I have a very dejected husband with one good ear, no sunglasses, AND the possibility of and episode of anaphylactic shock. We both returned to the house wondering how this happened???? Our bees are so docile, they often settle on our hand and look around before they fly off. Well???? Wild animals are unpredictable. Today wasn’t the day to make them angry.
After going out to breakfast, we both decided it was a day to lay low and hope for a better Saturday. Watching TV while enjoying Chinese food, we were thankful things weren’t worse.
Now, having four younger brothers, he did something silly. He texted them with the news. They all found it very humorous, asking if they could view all existing videos. Somedays, there is no respect in this world. Especially from kid brothers!!!!
Whatever you do today, remember bees aren’t always docile. Even the quiet can become combative if you are in the wrong place at the wrong time. Bee keeping is a hobby that can kill. Rule #1. When handling bees, suit up. Thank goodness HHH lives on to tell the tale.
Even though I haven’t mentioned it in a few days, our desert days remain hot. Not just a little warm, but over the century mark every afternoon. Although I continue to love life here on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada, at times I wonder what I was thinking choosing to live in a summer furnace. Sometime before death, HHH and I hope to live somewhere green with constant temperatures of 75 degrees. Not sure when or where that will be, but we can dream.
For now, dealing with the hot weather makes me thankful to be wired as an early bird. Every morning, like clockwork, HHH and I awake before the dogs. By time the coffee finishes brewing, our day has already started with local news.
If you are at all like HHH and I, the news has been fascinating. It seems if you miss an hour, it might take you two more to catch up. Between hype for the Olympics starting next week, and the political news, there is something for everyone. This from a woman that preaches about staying unplugged.
Around 6:30, you’ll find HHH in the back yard doing something. From dead-heading the roses to watering, we are on a mission to finish our chores before it becomes too hot. That’s usually around 11 am.
The afternoons find us working on indoor projects. From fixing a leaky flapper valve on the toilet to organizing our financial affairs, there’s plenty to keep us busy until evening.
Yesterday, while working on Ancestry, (which is eating up more time than I’d like to admit), I found that HHH’s history goes all the way back to days of Lords and Lady’s. My mind is still stuck on the fact that I’m related to someone that was the #1 Bookie on the west coast, living at 2230 Hollyridge Drive (right near the Hollywood) sign in the 1930’s. Looking for more interesting facts, I’ll continue my fascinating journey back to learn more about my past.
Agua Caliente Casino, Resort, and Racetrack
Late afternoons at Winterpast find HHH looking through a large stash of recipes to find just the right meal for dinner. I’m beginning to love “Left-Over’s” nights. HHH is an exceptional cook, along with all his other amazing talents. Some of his best meals are even better the second day.
I doubt I’ll ever be one to burn the candle at both ends. Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise, or so they say. As the summer races by us, I’m trying to squeeze as many hours out of a day as possible.
It’s hard to believe that a year ago, HHH was thinking about proposing. Life has been full of amazing miracles since then. We are so blessed with happiness. Our home is filled with love, as it should be. We both deserve nothing less.
Whatever you do today, think about discovering what goes on outside an hour before sunrise. You might be surprised to find your back yard looks totally different in the early morning hours. There’s always something new to discover!
Have a wonderful weekend. I’ll be back Monday.
It’s going to be a great day!! Stay Calm and Carry On!!!!!
There is nothing better than getting sucked into a great book. As any teacher knows, our bookshelves can become crowded after years of collecting great reads. After many years, its necessary for me to empty some shelves. While doing this, I ran across a couple titles that I must read once more in my lifetime. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is one of those stories.
One of the best things about this book, is that it unfolds in a completely different way than the movie we’ve all seen so many times in our lifetimes. From the opening scene, when Auntie Em runs down the ladder into the storm cellar without Dorothy, new details stand out.
There were enough fantastic details to give the movie makers a place from which to create the magical land of Oz. Every time I see the movie, it’s hard to remember than it was made in 1939. One of the all time greats.
The book explains why each character is seeking help. Of course, the scarecrow needs a brain, the tin-man needs a heart, the lion needs courage, and Dorothy just wants to go home. But the reasons behind their deficits are explained in a little more detail.
That this story was written in 1900 and yet is so readable is a bit surprising.
L. Frank Baum — 1856-1919 —
Lyman Frank Baum wrote about Oz and many other things. A prolific author, in addition to the 14 Oz books, Baum penned 41 other novels (not including four lost, unpublished novels), 83 short stories, over 200 poems, and at least 42 scripts ( according to Wikipedia).
After a lifetime of writing fabulous stories told with descriptive paragraphs creating stunning visual images, Baum suffered a stroke, slipped into a coma. He died the following day at the age of 62. His last words spoken to his wife during a brief period of lucidity: “Now we can cross the Shifting Sands.” In his books, the land of Oz is cut off from the rest of the world by impassable wastelands, including a desert called the Shifting Sands.
Enjoying this story more than a grown woman should, I suspect I’ll need to read the 39 books that came after this amazing story.
Whatever you do today, consider returning to a favorite book you may have placed on a shelf long ago. Books are a magical carpet ride taking the reader on adventures beyond the normal persons imagination. Please excuse me now, as I don’t want Dorothy and the gang to get too far ahead.
A few weeks ago, while watching the news, I learned something exciting was to happen in our town. On July 16th, one of the only working Union Pacific Big Boy engines would be steaming through our little town. Without knowing the exact time, I wrote an entry into my daily journal so we wouldn’t forget.
Yesterday, the early morning news reminded us again that the Big Boy was sitting at the biggest little city to the west and would soon roll east.
In our little town, we have a few parks. There’s Out-of-Town Park that is out of town. Then, there is the In-Town-Park, which is in town. Another stretch of empty land used to be the home of the Burning Man Artichoke. A thing of beauty made of flattened bottle caps.
This sculpture was a favorite of mine until the entire thing was removed. They didn’t ask our permission, but removed it quietly in the night, citing safety issues. Okay, there was a ladder to the second story and in today’s world, that could be a deadly feature. At any rate, it’s gone.
That piece of empty land is sandwiched between Main Street and the railroad track, so I’ll name that land Beside-the-Tracks Park. When HHH realized I would pester him until we were standing there waiting for the train to pass, he agreed that we’d go. Being a long time local, he knew exactly the place we’d park.
Well, one thing led to another and with some distractions, suddenly it was 10:03 and I hadn’t checked the Big Boy Locomotive tracker. The train was now speeding towards our town. We hoped we’d have time to make it to the tracks. On an earlier outing, HHH reported two cars next to the track, so neither of us were thinking many people would be there.
At this point, we had another 20 minutes to wait. We weren’t paying attention to the parking lot behind us as it quickly filled up. Hundreds of locals were all waiting to wave as the Union Pacific Big Boy Locomotive steamed by on its way to the next stop.
This engine is the biggest steam engine IN THE WORLD and it rolled right through the center of town. Right past senior citizens and babies alike. A historical day that saw all of us sweating through the desert heat to witness.
We could hear it before we could see it. And then, it was rolling through.
Just like that, the excitement was over. Please note the size of the engine compared to the small SUV to the side!!!!! It was truly worth the wait to see this coal driven engine steaming along our track. Something I’ll never forget.
The train is returning home to Cheyenne, Wyoming after its Westward Bound Tour.
Whatever you do today, watch the news. Perhaps there is something wonderful steaming through your town. Somethings only happen once in a lifetime. HHH and I are so lucky we experienced this!
There are some days life requires you to put on your big-girl pants and stand up for yourself. Sometimes, there isn’t another person that can take the wheel. That someday came last Friday. But, I’ll start from the beginning.
After months and months of dealing with a professional, my relationship with this person finally ended last week. Last fall, I needed a service and this person came highly recommended. The service needed was easily provided by this professional and we agreed on a price, although the final bill ended up being higher.
With details carefully discussed, I trusted this person would be true to his word. I wasn’t requesting brain surgery or anything quite so serious. Just a service that he’d provide for an agreed price. With a hand shake we were off.
After 9 months and four visits to retrieve, repair, retrieve, repair, and retrieve the project, it was finally corrected and finished. A professional project shouldn’t have taken this long. It wasn’t an oil painting or a lengthy novel. Two months later, when I needed the item, I realized, ANOTHER glaring error.
To get the project corrected and finished, I called upon inner strength, courage, intelligence, patience, and organizational skills. I had to negotiate for corrected results in a professional way. I researched government agencies that would help me if I didn’t find cooperation. Then, I went to work.
Snail-mail letters are highly effective when dealing with problems in life. If you have a keyboard and printer, take the time to write down facts about your problem in an organized way, avoiding feelings. One thing to remember about effective negotiations is that things go well when you leave out emotions like anger. Just the facts, Ma’am.
I was careful to remind the gentleman that taking advantage of a widow (which I most certainly was at the time) is a terrible thing to do. No one should EVER take advantage of a widow and expect to get away with it. The bible talks about that.
After receiving the letter, the professional corrected the project for the last time. After examining his work very carefully, I agreed to accept the finished project. It was then I quietly asked about the refund that I certainly deserved after nine months of nonsense.
??????
I was offered a dinner and a show.
As a woman, always remember to consider all options before speaking. Know your bottom line. I did consider this offer for about 15 seconds before I replied, “That’s not going to work for me.”
In the next breath he offered me a complete refund that was gratefully and graciously accepted. With a hand shake, our story came to a close.
As a senior citizen, (perhaps widowed), remember that you have a voice. It’s not okay for younger, more professional or educated people to take advantage. Your time, energy, and frustration are all worth something. Right is right. No one will advocate for you better than YOU, but it’s up to you to speak your mind.
The professional and I shook hands on the deal and all’s well that ends well. My refund came in the mail yesterday, paid in full. Thank goodness there are still people that are honorable when things go wrong. No hard feelings. Sometimes you’re the windshield, sometimes your the bug. I wasn’t going to be the bug this time. Don’t ever accept victim status. Not healthy.
Whatever you do today, take care of loose ends. If you are in the middle of righting a wrong, take a deep breath and continue. The truth will prevail. Patience as you carry on.
Somethings are best left unsaid while waiting for answers to explain the unthinkable. But, there are those that have a right to speak when their family has been the target of an attack. These are powerful words to consider written by a woman who came very close to becoming a widow on Saturday after at the hands of evil.
July 14, 2024
“I am thinking of you, now, my fellow Americans.
We have always been a unique union. America, the fabric of our gentle nation is tattered, but our courage and common sense must ascend and bring us back together as one.
While I watched that violent bullet strike my husband, Donald, I realized my life, and Barron’s life, were on the brink of devastating change. I am grateful to the brave secret service agents and law enforcement who risked their lives to protect my husband.
To the families of the innocent victims who are now suffering from this heinous act, I humbly offer my sincerest sympathy. Your need to summon your inner strength for such a terrible reason saddens me.
A monster who recognized my husband as an inhuman political machine attempted to ring out Donald’s passion – his laughter, ingenuity, love of music, and inspiration. The core facets of my husband’s life – his human side – were buried below the political machine. Donald, the generous and caring man who I have been with through the best and worst of times.
Let us not forget that differing opinions, policy, and political games are inferior to love. Our personal, structural, and life commitment – until death- is at serious risk. Political concepts are simple when compared to us, human beings.
We are all humans, and fundamentally, instinctively, we want to help one another. American politics are only one vehicle that can uplift our communities. Love, compassion, kindness, and empathy are necessities.
And, let us remember that when the time comes to look beyond the left and right, beyond the red and the blue, we all come from families with the passion to fight for a better life together, while we are here, in the earthly realm.
Dawn is here again. Let us reunite. Now.
This morning, ascend above the hate, the vitriol, and the simple-minded ideas that ignite violence. We all want a world where respect is paramount, family is first, and love transcends. We can realize this world again. Each of us must demand to get it back. We must insist that respect fills the cornerstone of our relationships again.
I am thinking of you, my fellow Americans.
The winds of change have arrived. For those of you who cry in support, I thank you. I commend those of you who have reached out beyond the political divide – thank you for remembering that every single politician is a man or a woman with a loving family.
Melania Trump
Take a little time today to think about her words. She’s not a politician. Just a wife that went through something horrible on Saturday. We could all learn something from her letter.
Harvesting food and flowers from Winterpast, I can’t help but remember how the gardens have changed since I came here in April of 2020. Moving into a new home, I had no idea if I could even keep anything alive, yet alone help it to thrive. Alone and terrified of the responsibility, the need for greenery and my own space outweighed my fear.
During the first two years, I ran into some huge problems. The air conditioning unit died, causing an unexpected expense of huge proportions. There was no choice when living in the desert.
Then, there was the problem with the lift station for the sewer system. What a shocker it was when it stopped working. Even more eye opening when I was told a new unit would cost another $5,000. If not for the kindness of a neighbor, I would’ve never known the broken equipment was owned and maintained by my city.
At that point, I began to question the wisdom of owning a home as a widow. So many different things to understand, diagnose and fix. Many, many things I’d learned about while farming and doing renovations. For that information, I’ll be eternally grateful.
And then, there were continual problems with the very complicated irrigation system that’s grown Winterpast into the beautiful oasis she is. From split lines to the need for burrowing deep into the ground to find bigger leaks, a desert garden requires high intense maintenance.
The other day, I was looking through some pictures and was a bit shocked. They tell the tale of how things have changed around here. HHH and I are so blessed to enjoy this paradise that is our Winterpast.
Then.Now.Then.Now.
With faith, hope, patience, and hard work, dreams do come true.
Whatever you choose to do this weekend, look closely at the path your life has taken throughout the past five summers. Although some changes might’ve been tough, try to focus on the beauty you’ve enjoyed along the way. Life is a blessing. Now, go enjoy your weekend.
Summer around here is extremely hot this year. At 5:00 this morning the temp was already 77 outside with an expected high of 108 today. The older I get, the more intolerant of extreme temperatures I become. 105 degrees is just about the hottest day I want to suffer through, even though I will forever love the desert and all she has to offer.
ilovethedesertilovethedesertilovethedesert
The plants in our garden are giving us mixed messages. Some love the hot summer and others have decided their growing season is over. We were so lucky to have enjoyed the lovely blooms as long as we have.
The Black-Eyed Susan’s grown from seeds don’t care a lick about the desert highs. They are putting on a beautiful show and the bees are thankful. These gorgeous flowers will bloom all summer and then go to sleep until next year. Next year they’ll come back from rhizomes they are creating now. A great choice for both us and the bees.
As for the bees, the news is better than it was last week. They are indeed storing honey away for the winter while producing more bees. Our queen continues doing her job in spite of the hot temperatures. The internal temperature of a hive must remain between 93 – 97 degrees in all seasons. They maintain this in a variety of ways, which is pretty amazing on its own. We may see some bearding in the afternoon when they come out near the entrance and fan their wings to create a draft inside.
The Bee Lady paid us a visit yesterday taking away some of our abundant apricot crop. She went home to can 28 quarts. Now, THAT is a lot of work on a hot summer day. Our tree is a magnificent producer, but with these extreme temps, much of the fruit has been lost to rot or ants. To find a friend that wants to take fruit is amazing. Apricot season will be finished by the weekend.
Next week, the plums will begin to ripen and we have a bumper crop of them, too. It seems the fruit hasn’t stopped since we picked the first cherry. Once the plums are done, we just might be picking our first “Hearts of Gold” cantaloupe. These sell out at the local festival for $10 each. Watermelon and pumpkins won’t be far after that.
The bees are now inhabiting two large brood chambers, one set on top of the other. That is their nursery, living space, and food storage. Our hive now has a smaller honey super on top, which will hold the honey we may or may not harvest in August. At least, for now, things are proceeding as they should.
Friday, The Bee Lady and her friend will treat our hive with vaporized Oxalic Acid (extremely dangerous for humans). This will knock down the Verona Mites, which are a plague to bee keepers everywhere.
As we talked today, she was marveling that bee-keepers of the 80’s would check their hives by driving by them. They wouldn’t think to stop and actually break the hive apart to check on the health of the bees. Well, now that she mentions it, that’s how I remember it so long ago when I had 40 hives. All of this intense bee wrangling is new to me, and so very necessary for a healthy hive. It was a lot easier back then.
We did find it necessary to put a queen barrier between the second large super and the smaller top super. It will allow the workers to move freely throughout the hive, while keeping the queen in her brood chamber down below to continue her constant egg laying.
That’s all the news from Winterpast for today. Retirement and honeymooning remain wonderful. Taking a break from genealogy, I’m still trying to absorb the facts I learned yesterday. Life is never dull around here! That’s for sure!!!!
When there is nothing to do, try something new. Auntie TJ always told me boredom is a sign of a weak and lazy mind. I think Joni Mitchell sang about that, too. Not wanting to fall into that category, I was busy working on my ancestry yesterday.
Computerized genealogy is the best! I found some paper documents my mother had prepared in the 1900’s. Erasures. Arrows. Unknowns. Very limited in her access to records, she didn’t get further than the 1800’s before becoming frustrated. I’m impressed that she got as far as she did.
Yesterday, I had worked on my maternal side for some time and decided to turn my attention to my paternal ancestors.
Oy. Vey.
Never look to far into family history unless you’re ready to handle what you might find. Again, Oy. Vey.
One day, when I was a young girl, my father told me a story about the day his sister and her husband came from Los Angeles to visit in a Stuts Bearcat. This visit was quite shocking to a family that took their family cow with them to fish at the San Joaquin River. Quite a journey from Los Angeles to the Central Valley, as well.
A true status symbol, the young boy who would later grow up to be my dad couldn’t get over the beauty of the side lights. Probably the most exciting thing to happen to a sleepy little farming town in a very long, long time.
I wondered until yesterday how it was that one brother would be living a farmer’s life while raising eight children while his sister and her husband would be driving around California in a luxury car. I found my answer and it’s a shocker.
It turns out that this uncle was one of the most famous “bookies” on the west coast of America. His lovely wife raised and showed bulldogs as a hobby. They employed a Japanese housekeeper and lived the high life. Zeke and Helen Caress. Now, even as a writer with a great imagination, I couldn’t make up that name. Really? Of course, ZEKE would be a bookie.
Not just any bookie. They were part owners in Agua Caliente in Mexico. Huge racetrack and resort. There is a book written about the place I place to read soon. The bad guys I’d only heard about were doing business on a regular basis with my uncle. Go figure.
They were so wealthy that at one point, they were kidnapped for ransom along with their chauffeur. After a shootout with the police the kidnappers were found and arrested. My relatives went on their merry way, enjoying all the best Los Angeles had to offer, ending up buried in Vesperland at Forest Lawn Cemetery.
Now that I think of it, another Uncle was nicknamed “Slick”.
Oy. Vey. Oy. Vey. Oy. Vey.
Well. With all that information, I had to move on. I decided that HHH’s family might be more down to earth with a bunch of Nebraskan writers. And so, I worked there a little while.
I hadn’t gone very far when I made another shocking discovery. HHH has relatives that were also Germans from Russia. In fact, we both have the “Rudolph” family name in our lineage. You can’t even imagine what a shock that was to both of us!!!!! I guess HHH will need to read “The Last Green Valley”, as well.
Whatever you do today, you might want to take a little time to review your own roots. As Auntie TJ also reminds me often, “A Family is a Family is a Family.” We all have interesting stories just waiting to be discovered. I wonder what I’ll find next! Stay tuned.
The tree that never had to fight For sun and sky and air and light, But stood out in the open plain And always got its share of rain, Never became a forest king But lived and died a scrubby thing.
The man who never had to toil To gain and farm his patch of soil, Who never had to win his share Of sun and sky and light and air, Never became a manly man But lived and died as he began.
Good timber does not grow with ease, The stronger wind, the stronger trees, The further sky, the greater length, The more the storm, the more the strength. By sun and cold, by rain and snow, In trees and men good timbers grow.
Where thickest lies the forest growth We find the patriarchs of both. And they hold counsel with the stars Whose broken branches show the scars Of many winds and much of strife. This is the common law of life.
I hope that someday, when I’ve gone far away, someone compares me to Good Timber with deep roots and strong branches. You can fall for anything if you don’t stand for something. Standing for beliefs and values takes extra effort and courage at times. Doing the right thing isn’t always the easiest thing.
As I look through the decades at my ancestors, it’s obvious I came from an entire forest of strong timber. Life wasn’t handed to any of our fore fathers on a silver platter. They chose their own course in life and went for it, even when going for it was the toughest choice they could make.
Christoph and Anna Geringer — 50th Anniversary
When Christoph and a pregnant Anna (my great-grandparents) were deciding on a move to America, it would have made a lot more sense to stay put. The unknowns were deep and dark. Childbirth. Traveling through unknown and dangerous territory by foot. Depending on their faith and following their own Northern Star, they went for it. The courage and bravery of all the German’s from Russia that made the trek is awe inspiring.
Once here, they impressed upon their children the importance of education. Assimilation in the American culture was vital for success. Learning English, they became the Americans that helped build our country. They cherished the freedom that they had only read about while living under oppression in despair. In doing so, they found their own Last Green Valley.
Life in 1902 makes the troubles I faced in 2020 laughable. Too Cold? Turn up the heat. Too Hot? Turn down the AC. Hungry? Call “Door Dash” for a pizza. Just widowed? Order extra Kleenex from Amazon. The life of our forefathers made adults of children at an early age. What would they think of the state of things in 2024????????
Whatever you do today, think about being “Good Timber” in times of storms and strife. An easy life is promised to no one. In fact, if the truth be told, easy lives are a myth. With hard work and effort, some people are just good at making it look that way. So, buck up and carry on with one foot in front of the other. Life is beautiful and we are so blessed.
Last week, as afternoon temperatures soared well above the century mark, I found myself a a little bored. Having almost finished reading “The Last Green Valley”, I found myself haunted by questions about the journey my own ancestors had taken. With a new appreciation for the perils of traveling so far with a baby on the hip, I decided to go to Ancestry.com and begin.
With only my name as a beginning point, ancestors began to appear. In the beginning, they were familiar. Of course, it’s not unusual to be lucky enough to know grandparents. Mine built the very house in which I played as a child and later, grew into a woman raising her own children. My great-grandparents were a little more mysterious, most of them having died before I could memorize their face or voice.
Like images coming out of a fog, a sea of strangers appeared that possessed traits passed down through the ages to me. Reading the names of towns in which they were born, one fact remains. I am of German/Danish heritage, an undeniable fact.
To start your own journey, you simply go to Ancestry.com and choose the plan that works for you. Then you begin by searching your own name.
After a few nights of excitement from the computer, HHH became intrigued. The hook was set when I mentioned he could start his own research off my name now that we are legally hitched. And that we did.
So far, I’m just as enchanted with his stories as those of my own people. You see, he came from a family of writers who created and supported a major newspaper in the countryside of Nebraska. They were the movers and shakers of Nebraska and the East Coast. Some ran for political office, while others farmed.
One ancestor fought for the Union in the Civil War, even being a prisoner of war for a time. So far, only one of HHH’s great-great-great grandfather came from Germany. Surprising, as he is of Scottish heritage, a blue-eyed red head.
While studying different names and families, pictures and stories appeared that were downloaded by other. Details appeared that might shock some and confirm the suspicions of others. Don’t begin this journey unless you can roll with the answers you find which might be different than the ones you were sure you already knew.
One of HHH’s widowed grandmother’s homesteaded land in Nebraska while raising her young son. I would have loved to have been in her class as she taught school, or helped her in the fields after her school day was over.
While discussing these things with Auntie TJ and The Goddess of the Central Coast, the intrigue grew. How blessed I am to have Auntie TJ as a link to those names of long ago. She lived among German-speaking immigrants as the youngest of four daughters born to August and Lizzie.
She mentioned that the attending physician to her birth in a small country home was Dr. Pomeroy. After our conversation, I saw Doc Pomeroy’s name on many birth and death records. He was the country doctor who witnessed it all.
Whatever you do today, consider taking a little trip into the past to discover something new about your ancestors. Stories of those already gone is a lovely gift to share with family. Above all, stay cool while brutal heat of summer blazes on (5:54 am — 78 degrees).
When you are dealing with 50,000 tiny animals, it’s bound to happen. Someone is going to break a wing or spike a temp. During the last month, something is going on with our hard working hive and it’s not good. They are not flourishing in abundance. They are barely holding their own here on July 4th. But, let me go back to the beginning.
We are being schooled in Bee-Keeping 101 by our beautiful friend, The Bee Lady. Having watched over bees for a very long time, she knows when to celebrate, worry, or run. We listen intently when she visits every other week to help us work our hive.
The most important lesson she has shared is that bees can kill us. A few weeks back, while enjoying a day of working bees, she was stung 8 times in the head. Suffering a huge reaction, she went into anaphylactic shock and was taken to the hospital by ambulance. Rule #1. Keep phone handy. Rule #2. Keep Epi-Pen closer. Those are two rules we won’t soon forget. Luckily, with the proper medications and emergency room care, she’s fine. Since then, she’s been stung a couple more times with no reaction. Just a very weird situation that could have turned deadly.
In case you are wondering, we have two Epi-Pens. Always be ready for the unexpected.
Since our bees arrived in early spring, our teacher has been assuring us that everything has been proceeding in the right direction. Our queen has been laying eggs on schedule while awaiting the bloom of the Russian Olive. We fed the right amount of simple syrup and pollen patties. The honey flow should’ve started around June 1, but, alas, it never happened. The bees are now making enough honey for their survival. They should be making enough to overwinter.
Although every flower seedling was selectedfor the bees, they haven’t been as interested as in years past. The flowers that they should have been thankful for remain visited. The flowers that they shouldn’t be interested, such as Fox Glove, have been their favorite. (More on that one in a bit.)
Zinnia
We’ve been awaiting the sign of wayward wax on the top of their second large super to tell us it’s time for the honey flow. It hasn’t happened. In fact, the honey and pollen storage have stalled a bit, along with our queens production.
If it were just us, The Bee Lady would let us know where we went wrong. According to her (and the latest talk around town), it’s every hive in the area. No honey or pollen. Just hives that would die if winter were around the corner. Ours included. They may not be able to overwinter at this rate and we may lose this bunch to start again next year.
So many people have asked us when the honey will be ready. This year, it’s almost a certainty that there will be NO extra honey. We’ll be lucky if the bees can put together enough for themselves over a hard winter. And so it goes. Farming is exactly like this situation. Some years you have bumper crops. Other years, you can lose you investment in the blink of an eye. And so, we wait.
We did need to do some housecleaning for the little ones. It seems they decided to lay their comb in creative ways, not following the pattern on the ten frames in their home. Not sure why, it seems the hive construction might have been off on the proper dimensions that bees require. Even 1/2″ off can make the difference between behaved and unruly bees.
The Bee Lady and HHH took time yesterday to fix the mess. In doing so, they brought me 6 1/2 pints of raw honey to drain and place in labeled jars. Our honey name was chosen by HHH and certified by me. Winterpast Honey. Simple as that. So far, we have 14 4 0z jars of honey and 6 8 oz. jars. That’s quite a bit from just four wayward frames.
The talk around our area is that experts are on the way. They will be looking at every aspect of the hive decline in our area. Thank goodness they are coming to the rescue, for without pollinators, we’re all in trouble.
Through their struggles, the bees remain sweet and calm. They are carrying on while flying in and out of the hive to forage for food. Time is running short and winter will arrive sooner than it seems. Please pray for our queen and the survival of her littles. We’re depending on it.
Whatever you do this weekend, you might want to learn a little more about bees. They are one of God’s most precious little creatures. There is still so much to learn from them. Patience is a lesson HHH and I are working on through this experience!
Have I got a book to recommend to anyone that might enjoy some great historical fiction based on the journey of a very real family! The story centers around Emil and Adeline Martell and their beautiful boys during WWII. It has everything a good story should have from romance to suspense and bone chilling descriptions of the horrors of war. Most importantly, it’s about a family’s love for the Lord, each other, and life.
My ancestors were Germans that moved to the Volga region to farm starting in 1763. Simple as that. Along with land grants from Katharine the Great, they were promised freedom to worship while building great lives around farming. For a long time, everything worked just as promised and their lives flourished. Until it all came crashing down.
Catherine the Great promised a new life along the Volga River to German Farmers
In 1902, as live became more dangerous and uncertain, with a brand new baby girl, my Great Grandparents left their homes to travel to a new country. America would be their next stop. About their journey I know nothing, and wish I would have asked my Great Grandfather Christoph all those years ago. It was he that built the box that held all their worldly belongings as they made their trip in faith and love right through Ellis Island and on to the San Joaquin Valley of California.
Over a century later, their descendants have made wonderful lives in this great country, while citizens of Russia and Ukraine struggle to this day. I’ve enjoyed every physical luxury at my fingertips during my life, except for the six months I returned to live in Moldavia, USSR (now Moldova). A time in my life of hunger and horrors I wish I hadn’t experienced. Travel there required ten vaccines for everything from cholera to typhoid and typhus. One of the few times in my life, I was thankful to be fully vaccinated.
Can you imagine leaving every friend, family member, and possession behind, taking only what you could carry? Then, leaving those things along the way as you struggled through heat, cold, weather, snow, rain, and sun while avoiding tanks, bombs and crossfire? Always moving towards the goal and Never, Never, Never Giving Up?????
When I wrote about my own struggles yesterday, I should’ve included that my minor problems in life were nothing compared to those my ancestors endured. Unspeakable tragedy. Unbelievable faith. Unworldly strength and courage. Those are the things that are woven into my DNA, whether I think of them every day or not. My ancestors were courageous travelers on their way to dreams of their own last green valley. Some made it and some died trying.
With the summer heat spiking, it’s a great time to read a wonderful book about some resourceful people who lived. They REALLY lived. The Last Green Valley by Mark Sullivan won’t disappoint.
If you have any thoughts after reading the book, please drop me a line. I lived in Moldova and swam in the Dniester River they crossed in their wagon. People in the surrounding towns near Tiraspol still used horses and wagons for transportation and harvests in 1977. Many men had never used a wrench to loosen the nut off a bolt. Actual experiences in the place I lived so long ago.
On the eve of Independence Day, take a moment to be grateful for all the freedom and luxuries we enjoy. From refrigeration for our food to pasteurized milk, we are a fully developed nation that folks from 3rd world countries can only dream. Our blessings overflow in great green valleys of milk and honey.
Whatever you do, consider reading something outside the norm. If you choose this book, you won’t be disappointed.
Settled back into the routine here at Winterpast, I can tell you a few things. I’m not a chicken or duck person. I don’t understand them very well, and will continue to buy eggs at the store. I’m not a cat person, either. That’s good, because they don’t much like me. After staying in a house with three of them for five days and nights and only saw one, although the food certainly disappeared in the night.
I’m a true-blue dog person. Having just cared for thirteen dogs of various ages and sizes, that’s been established. I’m now a fan of hypoallergenic dogs of the doodle variety. It’s true that they shed almost nothing at all. Such a difference from those that do, like Goldens or German Shepherds. I was thankful for the lack of hair as I mopped the house twice a day while in California. Such is life with puppies underfoot. A lot of mopping.
Life pushed me to become the woman I am today and I’m at peace with the new me.
When I became a widow in 2020, I benefited from the fog made of my grief. Thank goodness I could only focus on the moment at hand. There were boxes to move to storage. Later, boxes to retrieve and unpack. My seventeenth day alone, I moved one hour away to a sweet little town on the desert plains of northwestern Nevada. I moved into a new home in a new town where I knew two people. That August one of them died.
I began driving after not having been behind the wheel for a full six years. This happened for no reason other than my late husband loved to drive everywhere and I didn’t. When he was gone it was up to me to take the wheel and carry on.
I began caring for 1/2 acre of land with the trusty help of a gardener named Mr. B. During the dark days of Covid, I dined out several times a week and occasionally drove myself to the biggest little city to the west to stay in hotels for a change of scenery. Both actions were scandalous, with everyone sure that I’d die from a silly virus. But, I didn’t.
I refused to give up or give in. Sun, fresh air, and garden soil kept me safe from viral infections. I slept way to much and didn’t eat near enough. I caught up on movies while consuming vast amounts of macaroni and cheese, tacos, and ice cream (three amazing food groups).
Shouldn’t were replaced with Maybe’s, Why-Not’s?, and Heck, Yes’s. Slowly, my life began to change for the better.
September 24, 2020, I decided to write a blog. Creating Grievinggardener.com on the computer in an afternoon, I started writing and haven’t stopped since. In the beginning, I was up at 4:00 am every morning to start the day with words. My words kept me alive. I hoped at least one person in the universe would read them. It didn’t matter who, knowing if I could help one other woman get out of bed to read something I wrote, it was worth it.
Through every day, I’ve gardened in one way or another. I developed my own therapies to deal with my unique and personal tragedy when all the grief-groups were closed down. I found a church and began to pray. I found God, and began a relationship. I fell into the loving arms of Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior, and gave my life to him, finally baptized at 66 years old.
I’ve lived through desert’s worst winters and bought my very own Snow Joe to help me deal with the drifts. Loving every short day of winter, I cocooned inside with my little dog, Oliver. At times I didn’t shovel snow and dealt with ice. Throughout those days, I slipped. I slid. But, again, I’d find my balance and keep going.
In 2022, I became restless and went back to college for a summer. I applied for a teaching job and was hired, went to work, cried every night, and quit after a few months. Sometimes, you just need to reset your course when the headwinds are too strong.
That year, I also met HHH and fell head-over-heels in love with this man. This wonderful man loves gardening as much as I do. He’s man’s-man that still tears up at a sweet story on the news. This man now co-navigates life with me. This man I call my husband and best friend in life.
Together, we’ve built a greenhouse. We’ve grown a house full of seedlings and then turned them into plants blooming in our yard. We’ve experienced the beauty of Yellowstone for the first time in our lives as honeymooners. We’ve cruised the high seas and crossed back and forth over Donner Pass many times.
Together, we’ve whelped and help raise two liters of wooklets, which were born in the middle of our bed in both 2023 and 2024. Neither of us would have had that any other way, loving these 13 little pups while they were in our care.
My reason for highlighting the really great stuff going on is simple. I was a lost and lonely widow in 2020. Five summers later, I’m getting ready to spend the 4th of July with family I love while watching a parade down Main Street and greased pig contest. To go from knowing no one to knowing hundreds of people in my little town is a miracle about which I marvel every day.
Was it hard? Almost impossible. What it lonely? Beyond what anyone should need to endure. Were there setbacks? Every day. Was I on a journey without directions? You betcha.
The truth of the matter is, I didn’t take the journey alone. God get’s the glory on this one, as he carried me for many, many miles. As the days went by, I changed into this woman I really and truly like and respect. A woman that has charted her own course. How blessed am I to have found a new life in the midst of such sorrow.
Whatever you do today, remember that the sun will shine again tomorrow. No matter how dark, get up, get dressed, and get going. Life is what you make it!! Get started!!
One of the many things HHH and I have in common is our LOVE for roses! We aren’t fans of every kind, just Hybrid Tea Roses with gigantic and fragrant blossoms.
On our first Christmas together, I gave HHH his favorite rose, Mr. Lincoln. I wrapped up a certificate for the rose, explaining that the bush would arrive in March, and it did. Having purchased it from one of the “best” rose companies out there and at a premium price, I was shocked when it arrived, unwrapped with bare roots exposed in a carboard box.
HHH lovingly planted it here at Winterpast long before he proposed and then it refused to thrive. For 365 days, it was on the verge of dying, while HHH patiently worked his magic. From then on, I promised myself I’d only purchase potted roses that we could inspect.
This year, we purchased nine rose bushes named “Serenity” to celebrate Mother’s Day. With sweat and brute force, HHH used his trusty pick ax to plant each one. Slowly, they are beginning to settle in, blooming for the second time this season. There are plenty of very healthy roses sold at Walmart or the hardware store. It’s not necessary to pay twice the price because you just might receive half the plant.
Rose bush names are interesting. I’m sure the proper name can market more roses. Who could resist buying a bright yellow rose named “Happy Go Lucky”? (We now own two.) Or a stately rose named “The Grand Dame”, which she is. Mr. Lincoln now presides over the rose beds, while Independence Day, Tahitian Sunrise and Stainless Steel (a very pale lavender color), all fall in place. Bliss pumps out bloom after bloom.
All roses need good drainage and lots of water. Don’t plant them too deep, leaving the crown exposed so it can breathe.
Roses do need regular feeding. Bayer Systemic Rose Pellets are long lasting and work very well. Here on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada, aphids are proving to be a big problem which the Bayer food will solve. Luckily, the systemic insecticide is okay for use around the bees because bees don’t visit roses. Simple as that.
During the heat of the summer, all the rose bushes will slow down, using their energy to survive the heat. They will bloom again when the weather tames down in the fall. Last week, we had 2″ of rain here on the desert and the roses were thriving. This week, a heat wave is coming with a temperature of 106 predicted for Sunday.
After blooms have faded and died away, be sure to clip them off. There are many articles online about the proper way to do this. While growing your bush larger, clip them back to the first place there are five leaves growing. If you are just deadheading, clip only the dead blossom. There are specific reasons on what to trim and why, so do your own research.
Whatever you do today, try your hand at growing roses. There is nothing prettier than a freshly grown bouquet sitting on your kitchen table.
There is just something fun about going to the dump. From the time I was a child, there was something mysterious about hauling away discards and taking them to a large field where they would be thrown off the truck. There, the ever-present Jawa’s rummaged through mountains of trash, looking for discarded treasures.
Worried that I was a little strange in remember trips to the dump with fondness, I asked HHH what his thoughts were on the subject. As a child, he also liked going. There were always interesting take-aways from the adventure. His dump even had a dead animal pile which does sound like something to see in a country kid kind of way.
These days, going to the Transfer Station is not nearly the adventure it could be. The inspector at the gate will let you know if you’ll be allowed to pass through with your discards. Then, you’ll be given the number of a lane and expected to quickly dump and go. Of course, at the Transfer Station, all items will be sorted and resold as scrap. Such is the way of garbage these days.
We had done our best to pack HHH’s work truck with everything that needed to go. There was a functional tool chest that no longer functioned well in the Man Cave. Along with that, there were other heavy items that were no longer things we would need or want ever again. With every bit of energy HHH could muster, all things were loaded into the truck and we were off.
When we arrived, the old generator was checked for oil and gas, both of which had been drained. It would go on the metal pile after we disposed of the other things in the large barn that kept everything from blowing all over town. We had our orders and proceeded to Lane 4.
It was then two men unloading in Lane 2 came to pay us a visit. Would we mind if they took the generator? Did it work?
Yes to both questions. Off it went.
Would we mind if they took the huge tool chest?
Yes again.
Then the other big items went sideways instead of into the large dump pit. Our entire load went home with the men of Lane Two. Just like that, one man’s trash was another’s treasure. HHH didn’t even need to strain his back another second while the items magically disappeared from our possession.
The Man Cave is a thing of beauty, all of the treasures in place. With barn door curtains installed and a little more sweeping, it’s ready for summer parties. For everything there is a time and place!! Even a 15′ Marlin.
Whatever you do today, purge a little. I use the 1/10 rule. For every 10 thing that sit around the rooms in our home, at least one could go. It gets easier each time.
As for us, it’s the beginning of day three as kennel masters. Land mines are multiplying. The puppies only woke us once last night. We’re making headway on that. Maybe today I’ll float around in the pool a little bit. Sure looks inviting!
Ahh, the wide open spaces. How wonderful to put the new car on cruise control and jet through the high desert plains without a care in the world. Yesterday could have been like this, but it didn’t turn out that way. My beautiful day ended up more like this.
Okay, okay. maybe not quite that bad, but bad enough. A 30 minute drive took three hours. That’s a lot of time to sit and wait for traffic to keep moving.
The start of the day had been wonderful. After a meeting with my financial guru, I’d planned a shopping day with two girlfriends. I’ve known them the longest of any of my friends, having met in 2014 in Virginia City, Nevada. Tried and true blue girlfriends, these two. They were my support when I lost VST and have remained so.
Sitting over lunch in a beautiful restaurant in the Biggest Little City to the West, we had a lot on news to cover. Tree removal. Greenhouse delivery. My Mysterious Marine. Their sweet husbands, who were besties to VST. New fashions. Our lunch disappeared, and we talked on, just as a lunch with old friends should be.
After lunch, it was on to the mall. Mazelike, it’s easy to get lost there. I don’t visit malls all that often, using Amazon to do most of the shopping around here. It was fun to see and touch the clothing. It seems this year, natural fibers are in. Thank goodness holes over the shoulders are yesterday’s news. I never understood that trend. Or bell sleeves that could drape through a dinner plate. I didn’t see one ruffle yesterday. Hallelujah!! Praise the Lord.
This year, I think I’d better snatch up quite a bit, because next year, it might be mini-skirts and polyester on the racks.
The girls and I had a wonderful time, ending at the SEE’s candy store to end our day. We all purchased some candy and then head home. I was elated at the great day in the city. It’s been some time since I would just jump in the car and go. My GPS gave me perfect instructions to get on the freeway and I was headed home, back to the land of the mosquitos and green hills.
Yes. Mosquitos. I’ve been nailed several times in the last few days. Sadly, troublesome bite is just below my eye, which has puffed a little. I’ve also decided that dogs rolling around in the grass and weeds and then coming in for a pet is allergy inducing stuff. The last two days have been a bit itchy.
Desert + Rain + Sunshine = Noxious Weeds. The up side is that any property that isn’t mine is nice and green. The bad thing is that my property has way too many weeds, all which need pulling or spraying. It’s going to be that kind of year.
So, as I was driving along the interstate, three highway patrols raced by me with sirens blazing. I didn’t think too much of it, as these things happen when you live in a big city. What I didn’t know was that a poor soul going WEST rolled his brand new truck into the EAST bound lands, tying up BOTH directions of the interstate. By time I knew, gridlock made it impossible to get off the freeway. Besides, it would have made a 30 minute trip a 2 hour trip. As it turned out, that would’ve been the quicker choice.
How the poor soul survived is beyond me. His beautiful truck lay to the side of the road, trapezoidal prism in shape.
Hours later, I returned to Winterpast.
Whatever you do today, consider lunch and shopping with friends. The stores are full of brand new summer fashions. Shoppers are out having a great time! It’s nice to touch and feel merchandise on the shelf, rather than guess at what will arrive at the door in brown wrapping. Time for this world to get back to normal.
For me, the day holds more weeding. I better get going before the temps get too high. Summer is on the way.
