Serving Lincoln County for more than a century!
Serving Lincoln County for more than a century!
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There are few things more humbling than a freshly graduated 23-year-old-lovingly called "Big City Girl" by her small-town friends-trying to become a homesteader after moving straight from college to Harrington. I like to joke that I "served" my time in Detroit before enlisting in the Army, but let's be honest: 8 Mile was a warzone long before basic training. These days, my biggest battles are with haybales and sourdough. Speaking of battles, let's talk garden warfare. I...
“You remind me of the Fourth of July… makes me want a hot dog real bad.” – Jennifer Coolidge in Legally Blonde 2, and me, basically every summer. There’s something about the Fourth of July that just lights a firecracker in my soul. Maybe it’s the smell of grilled meat, the feeling of an explosion in your chest as colors fill the dark sky, or the sheer joy of watching someone try to relight a dud firework with a beer in hand like they are suddenly a demolition expert. Now...
Lately, I’ve been taking full advantage of this summery weather here in my newly adopted hometown—soaking in the air, basking in the sun, and quite literally feeling on top of the world while zooming past semi-trucks on my Kawasaki Ninja like the main character in an action movie… only, you know, the law-abiding kind. No police calls have been made about me—yet—and that’s not for lack of opportunity, but rather because I revere the law like a cow reveres the herd. (Peacefully. Lovingly. Occasionally confused.) Now I know...
As the managing editor of the Lincoln County Record Times, I usually spend my days wrangling headlines, triple-checking AP style, and chasing down quotes. But this week? This week I traded my laptop for a Cannon, and kicked off my side hustle with the most relaxed and blissful country weekend imaginable. I took part of Friday off (because, yes, even editors need a break) and headed to Quincy to photograph my first-ever wedding. That’s right—me, who usually sticks to snapping h...
This Easter, instead of spending my weekend elbow-deep in deviled eggs or politely ignoring Peeps, I climbed aboard a 100-plus-year-old train and pretended I knew things about railroads. I did not. But I learned fast. It started at the Inland Northwest Rail Museum, where I figured I'd poke around a few vintage cars, take a photo or two, and head home feeling vaguely cultured. What I got instead was a deep dive into railroad history that included a private tour, an impromptu...
It was a day for walking, running, hiking, and, most importantly, dirt-flying fun. I arrived at the Odessa Grand Prix just in time to catch the tail end of the riders’ meeting on Saturday. The moment I stepped onto the course, I was immediately greeted by the roar of engines, racers from across the state, and the warm Eastern Washington sun. Enter Randy Niles—the man, the myth, the legend—who organizes the weekend’s chaos. Without hesitation, we hopped into what can only be...
This past weekend, I did something wild. I swapped my reporter's notebook for combat boots and spent 72 exhilarating, exhausting hours playing soldier with the Idaho Army National Guard. If you thought journalism was chaotic, let me introduce you to my weekend. As part of our prep for Advanced Training-coming up next month in southern Idaho-I found myself not analyzing intelligence, as my job title might suggest, but instead learning how to operate military vehicles that are...
There are many ways to start a day, but locking myself out of my house with my car keys inside, before work, was not the ideal choice. Yet, I stood outside in the brisk morning air, watching my life choices flash before my eyes as I realized my door was locked, and so was my fate for the foreseeable future. It all started so innocently. I had taken Winnie outside, as responsible pet owners do. I locked the door behind me, because, you know, safety first. And then, just a few m...
This week was like living in two parallel universes, one that involved ambient purple lighting and infrared heat therapy, and the other, dust, exhaust fumes, and a whole lot of "HELL YEAH." If you ever wondered what it's like to feel like you're in a science fiction movie one day and the next, an action-packed car chase, buckle up. Here's how my Friday and Saturday went from serene space pod relaxation to rally racing madness. Let's start with Friday. I was invited by Barb, th...
I have always considered myself many things—an investigative journalist, a semi-decent cook, and a dog mom extraordinaire—but coordinated? Absolutely not. So, naturally, when I decided to try a tanning bed for the first time, I knew it was going to be an experience. For background, I have had my fair share of sunburns over the years, from spending summers on the lake with little to no sunscreen to testing out self-tanners that left me more orange and greasy than bronzed and...
Growing up in Northern Michigan, winter wasn’t just a season but a survival challenge. The snow didn’t gently fall; it descended like a vengeful force determined to bury everything in sight. And did we get snow days? No. We dug ourselves out and trudged like Hobbits marching toward Mount Doom. My late maternal grandmother, who grew up during the Great Depression, used to tell me about walking to school “uphill both ways.” As a kid, I rolled my eyes, figuring she was exagger...
This weekend I did what any respectable Harrington transplant does when the sun's out, the breeze is mild, and the fish haven't yet filed a restraining order against me: I grabbed my fishing gear, my wiener dog, and hit the great outdoors. Somewhere between Odessa and Harrington-coordinates redacted because a girl never gives away her secret fishing hole-I set off to finally catch the fish that have eluded me all season. But let's start at the beginning. Saturday morning...
There are a few emails in life that change you. College admissions. Job offers. And one from Brian Curtis - Vice President of the Davenport Road Knights - personally inviting you to ride in his 1948 Chevy Fleetmaster for the Pioneer Days Parade. That, dear readers, is what we in the industry call a hard yes. I didn't even finish reading the message before I was mentally picking out my parade-day sunglasses. With that, I handed over the Parade photography assignment to our...
When I first saw the smoke rise over the hills on Wednesday, July 9, I was driving home from Cheney. Within minutes, Fire Watch confirmed what my gut already told me - it was growing fast. I dropped Winnie off at home, changed into my field gear, and got out there. For three straight days, I documented as much as I could. From Cayuse Cove to Western Pines Road, from the destruction at Moccasin Bay to the cliffs above Seven Bays. I walked through scorched fields, down roads...
Nothing flavors a burger better than gunpowder and CPO. That's what my sergeant told me the other day while I was elbow-deep in rifle grime, scrubbing carbon off like I was auditioning for an Army version of Mr. Clean. We're back in Lewiston, Idaho, for the final stretch of annual training and our June drill weekend. For those of you unfamiliar with the time-honored military tradition of weapons cleaning, let me break it down for you: imagine cleaning the same rifle over and...
Listen here, privates-kidding, kidding! Listen up, Lincoln County-said in the tone of someone who once forgot their own keys while holding them and is now somehow nearly licensed to operate a 22,000-pound combat truck. That's right, your managing editor has traded the newsroom for night vision and a whole lot of sunscreen. I've been out in the Idaho desert for a little over a week with the National Guard, and while this field training isn't forever, it has definitely been an...
Memorial Day has come and gone, but its meaning hasn't left me-not even out here in the dry heat of Boise, Idaho, where I'm currently in the thick of my Annual Training with the Army National Guard. This year, something small caught my eye-and heart. Coins, carefully placed on the headstones of military graves. It's a tradition I had noticed in the past, but only recently took the time to understand. And now that I do, I can't stop thinking about it. For those unfamiliar, the...
You know it's been a big week when the most exciting events in the county happen three blocks from your own driveway. I'm still reeling. If this past week were a movie, it would be called "Harrington: The Musical," starring classic cars, camera flashes, kids who now call me "camera lady," and a dog with a big attitude in a tiny package. It all started with something I've had on my calendar for nearly two months: speaking to the students at Harrington School-with some visitors...
I was invited to attend the annual Semi-Formal Odessa Soirée and live auction on Friday, May 2, and let me tell you-it was one for the books. Let me take you to the scene of my latest public lesson: Odessa's Town Hall during a semi-formal soiree. Fancy silent auction tables hugged the walls, the center of the room was all elegance and fairy lights, and wine and beer tasting stations dotted the room like little adult reward zones. Clark-our resident MC and part-time voice of...
If you had told me last week that I'd be sipping pink lemonade sold by future Shark Tank stars, fangirling over quilts, and eating the best pecan pie of my life (apologies to the Midwest hometown bakery scene), I would have asked if you were feeling alright. This past weekend, I had the honor-and the pure joy-of covering Odessa's Spring Fling celebrations. And let me tell you: for a small town over a thousand miles from where I grew up, Odessa sure knows how to make a...
You haven't truly lived in a small town until you've run into a church basement in the middle of a queen's coronation, slightly out of breath and dressed in what was supposed to be a classic black cotton blouse. But we'll get to that. Let's rewind a bit. Saturday was a day for the books. My little sister ended her reign as Queen of Tekoa, and on the same day, I got to witness the crowning of Alyx Scheller as the new Miss Odessa. It was a full-circle moment - one queen stepping...
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Odessa, it’s that every single resident is not only incredibly friendly but also a walking encyclopedia on just about everything. Seriously, I could probably walk into the post office, ask about the best way to build a chicken coop out of recycled materials, and leave with a step-by-step guide, a handshake, and possibly a hand-drawn blueprint. This past week, I wandered into the Odessa hardware store under the illusion that I am now q...
As I sit in my home, serenaded by the relentless, off-key meows of Harrington’s band of “aristocats”, I can’t help but wonder if the cats have officially claimed the town. My neighbor and I have spent countless text exchanges brainstorming ways to curb our new, uninvited guests. Should we plant a catnip (cat-cannabis) field out in the sticks to lure them into a blissful utopia? Perhaps. Do not take me seriously. But it did send me down a rabbit hole—or, more accurately, a cat...
Before we get into anything else, I must formally apologize to the county. Two weeks ago, I foolishly wrote about how we hadn’t really seen much snow. The universe responded swiftly and mercilessly, dumping a fresh layer on us and dropping the temperature to a level best described as “why do I live like this?” I have learned my lesson. I will never again tempt fate by commenting on the weather. Now, while I was being humbled by the snow, I was also humbled in another way—b...
Valentine’s Day is a magical holiday full of romance, sweet gestures, and grand declarations of love. At least, that’s what the greeting card industry tells us. For me? It’s an annual exercise in cautious optimism—hopeful that this year will be the one that finally breaks my streak of lukewarm Valentine’s Days. Then again, given my track record, that’s not saying much. Let’s start with a simple fact: I have always been a flower girl. I adore fresh bouquets, the sweet scent o...
