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As a single mother, I lived in fear of child protection services. Years earlier, I had laughed at my friend Julie's fear of child protection services. Julie was a single mother who had to care for a toddler while pursuing a four-year degree.  Julie called me one night when her child was three.                 “I can’t do this anymore.  She’s possessed!  There is something wrong with her, and I don’t know what to do!”                 “Well, you’re the one going into child psy

I wanted Lilly to have a connection with Minnesota.  I wanted her to have a sense of rootedness that I had for most of my life.  Born in Reno and raised all over Nevada, Lilly had no knowledge of another culture or way of life outside Nevada.  By the time she could toddle, she knew not to go near the slot machines when we went out to eat at the casino restaurant.  Lilly didn’t blink at marquees, lights, and crystal chandeliers, showgirls, and waitresses in string bikinis.  Li

White Trash Rising is still selling on Amazon! John checks my rankings in rural humor once in a while and tells me I am holding strong. It is odd that my childhood stories are rural humor; I thought for the longest time it was just life! Cousin Lyle is in the hospital, giving us all a scare. He's the last of the patriarchs in Butler. Made me think a bit about how much influence each member of our little community had on me. I wrote about all the horses I loved, but maybe

It’s been a rough week.  A call from the Rez Nurse to tell me that Cliffy had passed away.  Of course, she caught me up on all the rez gossip.  My ex-boyfriend passed away four years ago, but she hadn’t called to let me know since she figured I wouldn’t give a damn anyway.  The sad news was that his son had passed away a few years prior; the word was that he was a victim of the rampant drugs and alcohol on the rez.                 Rez Nurse and I must have spent over an hour

I had to buy a vehicle.  I had been left with the van, which was gifted to us by the Bowling Ball’s mother and stepfather when they bought a new vehicle.  It had transmission issues and would suddenly stop moving forward, then, with a lurch, jump out into traffic.  There were fuel line issues as well, causing the engine to sputter and stop, starting again after a brief rest.  Bowling Ball had left the van for Lilly and me, taking the newer working vehicle on his cross-country

As a single mother, I worried.  My greatest worry was what if something happened to me?  Where would Lilly go? What would happen to her? I thought of my own death, not out of fear for myself, but out of fear for Lilly.  I was the only parent she had to care for her.  I made plans with Greg, Donna, Gus, and anyone I could recruit to swear allegiance to Lilly and to protect and defend her if I could no longer do so.  A wounded animal goes home to die.  In my darkest hours, I l

All the Horses I Have Loved My housekeeper, a senior lady, had a relationship with a senior widowed rancher who lived in the valley just across the south range.  One day, she invited me to bring Lilly out to the ranch.  The rancher had retired there to build a house in the style of the old western movies.  He kept with him a couple of his retired horses, a cutting horse mare, and his gelding roping horse.                  “Lilly can ride a horse out there. His grandkids used

Work took me out of town on occasion.  Working and living in the middle of nowhere, on top of a mountain, meant I traveled a lot.  We were 8 hours from Reno, 3 from Elko, 4 from Salt Lake City, and almost 5 hours from Las Vegas.  (bathroom stops counted in the time traveling with Lilly) Before Lilly started school, it was easy; she had become a tiny expert in packing.  I told her the days we would be gone, for example: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday.  Then she would pack her suit

The first few months after my divorce, I noticed Lilly was approaching life as an observer.  In a crowd, she stood back and watched until she was coaxed to join. What was heartbreaking was watching her response to loud voices.  She winced, making me wonder how many times she had heard a sharp, angry voice directed at her.  I couldn’t bear to see her flinch at loud voices, whether in anger or laughter.  Almost four years old, she should have been squealing in laughter, yowling

her face.  If another child had a tantrum in public or yelled at their mom, Lilly was aghast. On Lilly’s face, it was all horror, like a middle-aged virgin aunt clutching her pearls to her chest.  Not that Lilly was innocent.  Headstart had taught me to consider how I would camouflage the time-out chair since it was obviously going to be her date for the prom.  Preschool had only given her more options for violence.  I thought she had grown out of it, with help from lengthy

Living SS (suddenly single), I grew to dread the ten-mile drive home.  I would pick Lilly up from daycare and later from preschool, with a snack in hand.  Her blood sugar drops were horrendous and deafening in the afternoons, a fight I was unwilling to face.  That was an easy fix.  If only the other issue was as easy. It was the questions.  Lilly had me trapped.  I wanted to quietly unwind and decompress after dealing with people all day; those ten miles of driving should ha

Lilly was growing up in an adult world.  When I suddenly found myself single with a toddler, no vehicle, no money, and no daycare, I had to think on my feet.  I called my boss and explained that while I was looking for daycare, my daughter would be camping out in my office.  “I don’t care who you have in there as long as you do your job.” Lilly was familiar with the nursing home, having visited occasionally around the holidays or for activities.  She had a building full of

Life had settled down a bit after the divorce.  The Bowling Ball had not contacted Lilly for some time now, and she had gone on with her life.  I watched carefully for any signs of trauma or regression, instead she talked more and seemed freer.  The local feedstore got in a new bunch of baby chicks, ducks and young rabbits. Being in a small town, of course the owner brought over a few boxes of mixed assortment baby farm animals to the nursing home for the residents to pet. 

Watching the news and seeing what is happening in Minnesota right now is tearing me apart.  A wife and mother was shot in a soccer Mom’s vehicle.  Her last words to the ICE agent who would later shoot her in the head were, “It's okay, I’m not mad at you.”  That is about the most Minnesotan thing she could have said. I am willing to bet that, as she turned her wheels away from the agent to leave, she said “Ope” or “uff-da” as she cranked the wheel. I watched ICE agents hold ba

First, a few words about the book. White Trash Rising is still selling on Amazon! I'm incredibly grateful to everyone who purchased a copy. Special shout-out to my reviewers! Thank you, thank you! White Trash Rising is holding steady in rural humor. I have applied to serve as a lecturer at the next Nevada Healthcare Association Conference on the topic of Generational Trauma. My focus or topic is "Pain will follow a family, until someone feels it." Anyway, on with the

Lilly was in preschool when, one day, she noticed that I was sad.                  What’s wrong?” Lilly was still at the stage of watching me closely, suspicious that I, like her biological father, would suddenly disappear before her eyes.  A friend at work had told me, “When you get overwhelmed, and you need to cry, cry in the shower.  That way, the kids never know.” Despite following her advice, Lilly sensed something was wrong, so I told her.                 “I just

I wanted a lot of things in my life.  One thing I never wanted was for my family to let me go to work with two different types of shoes on my feet.  I looked like a dementia patient and there will be a family meeting later today.  What has happened to the accountability of my husband and daughter?  But I digress. During my Roy Rogers and John Wayne days, I wanted to be a cowboy.  Tubby smashed that dream; “You can't be a cowboy-you are a girl.”  The joke is on him; medical

The two topics I was told repeatedly I should never bring up in conversation.  Which has probably led some to assume I was slower than average.  Mom had a quote for that, too: “Better to stay silent and be thought a fool than to open your mouth and remove any doubt.” The first presidential race I remember was between a guy named “Nixon” and a guy from Minnesota named “Humphrey”.  Tubby filled me in on the details.                  “His name is Hubert Humpdink Humphrey.  You h

January That time of the year seems endless.  By the age of five, I was already walking around like I was eighty years old, bent over and mumbling, “Please, Lord, let me live to see spring again.”  By the time I was old enough to learn about the ice age in school, it was old news to me.  I lived through an ice age each year.  Glacier?  Try navigating around the shit-berg of manure that had fallen off the spreader and frozen in place.  There is a statement that Eskimos have

New Year's Eve in Las Vegas. A night of fireworks and drunken revelry on the strip. Or, as my clients refer to it, “Amateur night.”  Our night will be spent feeding an anxious German Shepherd CBD calming treats and listening to Willy Deville to drown out the fireworks on the strip.  You may question the choice of music, but through trial and error, only Willy Deville's full concert videos will keep Charlotte from literally throwing herself against the window.    This morning