Usually when an Aussie starts following me on Medium or Scribophile, I like to tell a story regarding my own family. Seeing that you are out of prison now, you might get a chuckle from it. I could have been an Aussie if my ancestors had not been such great horse thieves when they were still in Scotland by the Brit/Scottish border. My dad was born in Canada and raised in Washington state. He always wanted to visit Australia, but never got there. The direct antipode to where I live now, (Nevada) is in the Indian Ocean west of Perth. So far away, and with a useless passport because of "you know who" it's falling off the bottom of my bucket list.

I remember in the 70's when I played and watched tennis a lot, I was transfixed by Evonne Goolagong, her name and her game. I want to live in an opal mine where it's about 64 degrees all the time. I want to see the water in the toilet flush in the opposite direction.

Her writing muse lurks in the volcanic hills amidst mustangs, marmots and jackalopes. While hiking with her dogs, Ann stumbles upon stories of dark humor.