Nine things about me. Sorry, but I’m too lazy to write a hundred. Plus I’m just not that complicated.
1. I’m a fortysomething writer living in the central Washington desert. After keeping a weekly newspaper afloat for about 400 straight weeks (and losing the battle), I’m now an adjunct English/mass media instructor. Since I haven’t taught for twenty years, the past two years have been very interesting.
2. There are always too many plants, animals, and kids at my house and in the barn. I used to think this was all an accident, but now I know it’s because I’m good at knowing what everyone needs and finding ways to get those needs met. This is a very charitable way of saying that I’m basically a philanthropic sucker.
3. My life is all about opposites. My dad’s an engineer, my mom’s an artist. I was raised in the city but now live in the country. I am outrageously brave in print, but ask me to talk in front of a crowd and I’ll pass out from fear. You get the idea.
4. My household: 18 yo identical twin sons who are pushing 6’5 and who are both athletes (which means they require basically a taco truck in the way of daily caloric intake); seven cats (three over town ordinance); one dog (Annabelle the Husky/Red Heeler Nightmare Surprise mix); and two female green-cheek conures. At the farm (where my horses board thanks to the generosity of my brother-in-law and sister) there are three horses: a twentysomething black mare who’s probably solid Appy stock, a five-year-old QH paint mare, and a five-year-old Tennessee Walker mare; nine assorted chickens for insect control and eggs, and a Pekin duck for entertainment. No. 1 son, 20, is in college but comes home for summers and breaks and requires a great deal of mental calisthenics to keep up with whether he’s home or not.
5. I am profoundly impatient. This is taking a lifetime of work to overcome.
6. I have a disease that causes chronic pain called interstitial cystitis. If I told you that I’ve accepted my condition gracefully and that it’s brought meaning into my life…well, that’d be a hot crock of poop. Suffering from this disease makes me angry, which is bad—but sometimes anger is the only thing that keeps me moving—which is good.
7. I’m a hard worker but I’m also very hard on myself, which (as many people wiser than I am will instantly recognize) is a recipe for all kinds of self-induced problems. But every day I get to take care of horses is a day I feel like I’ve won the lottery.
8. Like all old reporters and editors, I read a lot and so I know a little bit about a lot of stuff. Stuff I know more than a little bit about includes: xeric plants, agriculture, graphic novels (for all you uninitiated people, that’s “comic books”), clouds, and taking pictures. I won’t say “photography” because that sounds too professional. All I know how to do is be in the right place some of the time. Oh yes–and don’t try to lie to me. After twenty years as a reporter, I have developed a very sensitive b.s. meter.
9. I still love French toast as much as I did when I was a little kid. With powdered sugar and butter, thank you.