Pete called just a few minutes ago to tell me about an interesting encounter he had this afternoon while working outside, before he left for work.

Apparently some “tweaker” (see definition two) drove by the house and told him that some of his tweaker buddies were talking about stealing the boat motor. It’s locked away safely now, but Pete wanted to warn me… and provide some, um, self defense tips.

And then he said this is the last straw and we should probably move. He doesn’t like leaving me alone here.


But I dare ’em* to try to take the boat motor. Or anything. I got a couple surprises they don’t want to meet.

* Not really. Please stay away.


If my last post was a test of readership, I don’t know if it passed (hey! you read it!) or failed.

But if it were testing y’alls clairvoyance-y-ness (it’s a word), then ya failed. Cuz ya know, you can’t read my mind!

So anyway, sorry for being all cryptic and down in the dumps-ish. Uncool.

Things are well, never fear. Boring, but well nonetheless. So boring, in fact, that I have nothing to post about. Or maybe it’s that I don’t have the energy to post about it… or both.

So instead, my most recent My Turn, published April 13:

Learning to love life in a small town

When I was in high school, I went to San Diego on spring break to visit some family. Within my first three hours there, I was in love.

I loved everything about the city. I loved the laid-back attitude and the sun and the beach and the shopping and the food and the proximity to Mexico. I loved San Diego.

For years after that, I knew San Diego was where I needed to be. After college, San Diego was it. I was going to move there and find some sort of job and live in some sort of apartment or house or … something … OK, so the details were a little fuzzy, but I was focused on the big picture: I was moving to San Diego.

Maybe that was part of my way of rebelling against my hometown. I was so focused on what I perceived as negatives of living in a small town that I couldn’t – and wouldn’t – consider the positives.

At some point, though, my views began to change. The city life, in all its glory, was just too much for me. The people, the traffic, the higher cost of living; I slowly came to the conclusion that the city was a perfectly fine place to be — for a visit.

I decided a small town’s ability to make you really feel at home was more pleasing. I like being able to walk downtown at night, alone, without being afraid. I like being able to run into the grocery store without always feeling the need to lock my car doors.

I like going into a restaurant and seeing familiar faces. And when I’m standing in line at the store, the man in front of me or woman behind me just might start a conversation while we wait. I like that, too.

Those are the kinds of things that make living in a small community so enjoyable. You just can’t get that in the city.

And while living in a small town certainly isn’t for everyone, it is for me.

I’m used to it. There’s one stop light in the county I grew up in. I know small towns. Moses Lake seems big to me sometimes, but not so much that it loses the comforts I’ve come to enjoy about Grant County.

San Diego is a great city and there are a thousand other great cities out there. I hope to visit a lot of them someday. Maybe I’ll tell you about it while we wait in line at the store.

Kaci is the paginator, in charge of laying out the newspaper. Her coworkers — several of whom grew up in Seattle — have expressed their amazement that such an educated, intelligent professional could start with such humble beginnings in Dayton, Wash.



I’ll be one of the first to admit that I (attempt to) keep up with trends. I may not follow ’em, but I know about ’em. Er, well, at least… kinda.

But really. I’m all about Lady GaGa right now and GAWD I don’t know why.

But you know what I don’t get?

Zac Efron.


And while we’re at it… Robert Pattinson. Sorry, I had to Google his name because in my head he’s just “the guy in those Twilight movies.”

To be completely honest, I think for awhile I thought they were the same person. SAWWWWRY I’m not 12.

Oh but hey. She’s kinda cute, whoever she is.


I really, really don’t get the obsession lately.

Granted, I haven’t read a sentence of Twilight or seen the movies. And Zac Efron… what’s he in, High School Music 74?


I just don’t get it.

Here, however, is what I DO get:



I’ll refrain from posting the pictures that really make me drool. But for real? The eyes, the muscles, the dark hair, the… everything. I’d hit that. Twice.

You get the point.

Zac? Twilight guy? You ain’t got nothin’ on Gerard.