HATE IN IDAHO

 My letter to the Lewiston Tribune in response to the editorial, “This is who we are: Idaho is not too great for hate” (here) was published on Sunday, May 3, under the title, “Feeling Betrayed.” I’m sharing my letter below:

My issue with Idaho hate involves the corrections system. On December 10, 2023, my son Milo Warnock was murdered while incarcerated at the Idaho State Corrections Center, virtually kicked to death by his demented cellmate. I don’t hide the fact that Milo was a DUI offender who struggled with bi-polar depression and addiction. I do say that he received a harsh sentence and was subsequently harshly disciplined at the prison over an issue with his medication.

Life goes on. I’m used to the fact that Milo is gone, but every day I struggle to rationalize how prison staff (Idaho State employees) could look the other way while this middle-aged, non-violent individual was threatened, harassed, and finally murdered. Not that my family’s longevity in Idaho matters – I have the same rights (or lack thereof) as any other citizen – but as a native Idahoan whose grandparents chose Idaho as their home 130 years ago, I feel betrayed. No one apologizes. The lack of support for change is disheartening.

 What can we do to bring about a more enlightened society for the benefit of all? Basically, the only thing that matters in life is the way we treat others, but there’s little any individual or organization can do if our legislative, executive, and judicial branches don’t care. KW 

FEELS LIKE SUMMER

 

The pond is full to overflowing

Suddenly the temps have warmed into the 80s, and the sun is hot. We had to break out our summer pajamas. I retired my sweats. It’s always a challenge to stay cool in the summer when safety and comfort at the farm demand that I keep my legs covered. I like my winter wardrobe better than my summer duds.

Pear tree blooms are sparse

Mike and I spent three days at the farm last week (April 28-May1). It felt good to organize for the summer – housecleaning, making shopping lists for needed provisions, etc.

Our fields have yet to be planted, and as we hiked, we saw standing water and muddy patches. It seems strange because it was basically a dry winter and we haven’t had much rain. The roads are dry and dusty as are the gardens.

Mike tried to burn the slash pile on the west side of the north field, but it refused to light. He had better luck with the fourth and final pile located near the top of the lane behind his shed. It burned down to ash fairly quickly, and after lunch I found a stick and roasted a couple of marshmallows for myself. I wished that I could share with 4-year-old grandson Silas.

I don't remember narcissus here in prior years

The early daffodils have passed. The “poet daffodils” (my mother called them “narcissus”), are still in bloom. We had them in small patches for years – I mean, since my childhood – and suddenly they have spread. Fascinating! What are the conditions that encouraged this to happen?

True to form, the peas and spinach I planted are making a poor showing. Maybe it’s already too hot. Maybe they want more water. Maybe the soil needs to be enriched. Maybe I just don’t know how to plant those seeds. No matter. If I don’t have peas and spinach, maybe I can have summer squash. Maybe. Despite some overnight temps into the 30s, the tomato plants are holding up. I pruned up the strawberry bed, and it looks good.

Perhaps another bumper crop of cherries

Meanwhile, I’ve searched the orchard meadow, hopeful of finding returning plants. The grass takes over. I dream of clearing a patch or two so that plantings might have a better chance. However, it’s almost more than I can do, and as the soil dries even more and gets hard, it becomes impossible. KW

2026 STILLWATER AWARDS

 

Idaho State Correctional Center, Kuna

From our separate physical locations, Hallie and I met last night on Zoom to watch the 2026 Stillwater Awards, a national program that honors prison journalism. Patrick Irving, an inmate at the Idaho State Correctional Center (ISCC) whose prison blog (Book of Irving) we follow, won third place in the “Best Op-Ed” category for his essay, “Who Should Care for the Elderly in Prison.” (You can read it here.)

The following is from the website of the Society for Professional Journalists [SPJ]:

“The Stillwater Awards recognize excellence in prison journalism — one of the toughest places to practice the craft. The Stillwater Awards are named after the Minnesota town where Stillwater State Prison was built. In 1887, the warden founded The Prison Mirror, the first newspaper written and managed exclusively by inmates. Today, there are dozens of prison publications across the country. The Stillwater Awards are co-sponsored by SPJ and the Prison Journalism Project. Since 2020, PJP has trained incarcerated writers and published their stories. Because of that, PJP doesn’t participate in the judging of the Stillwater Awards. Winners receive certificates and recognition at a virtual awards ceremony.”

Since our son Milo’s wrongful death while incarcerated at ISCC, my goal has been to do what I can to increase public awareness of the inhumanity suffered within prison walls. Unfortunately, there’s not much one individual can do. Frankly, it’s a sad fact that individuals and agencies can’t do much until the executive and legislative branches of our government begin to care. I believe in consequences for wrong-doing, but in our country, our practice is to incarcerate all offenders, which ruins lives. Just to point out one fact, it’s been shown that if non-violent offenders served sentences which allowed them to continue as contributing members of society, it would be less costly to the state.

This thought-provoking chart is a comparison of worldwide incarceration rates developed by the Prison Policy Initiative. Perhaps it's slightly out of date, but I can guarantee you, things haven't changed much.

Well, I’ll get off my soapbox for now. Congratulations to Patrick Irving for this well-deserved recognition. And to all inmates who write from prison, I say, “Keep up the good work.” Keep on keeping on. It’s all we can do. KW 

CASH POOR

 

Son Murray is moving from the tiny duplex where he’s lived for the last four years to a lovely little 1920’s house on the brow of the hill overlooking the Snake River. Two trips with his brother Clint’s utility trailer and one or two with his car was all it took, and Clint also helped with the lift and carry. Murray didn’t allow us to help him much, but Mike put together his new bed frame, and I served sandwiches for Friday’s lunch. Otherwise, Murray asked us to pick up some used outdoor chairs he bought from an individual who lives near us, and since he had yet to pay for them, he asked us to give the seller $35.00 in cash. This proved to be a challenge.

“I have a twenty, two fives, and two ones. What do you have?” asked Mike.

“I have a one and a fifty,” I replied. “And some quarters.”

“Don’t you have a twenty? How about tens or fives?”

“No! I have a fifty and a one,” I reiterated.

So, we stopped by to pay the seller, hoping she would have change for the fifty. No, she had given all her cash to her granddaughter, she said. “We’ll get cash at the grocery store and come back,” I offered.

So, I asked for “cash back” with our grocery purchase. Yes, he could give me a twenty, said the cashier. “We need two tens,” Mike stated.

“We don’t keep tens in the morning,” said the cashier. (Does that seem strange to you? Whyever not?) I accepted a twenty-dollar bill, but that didn’t help us. We still didn’t have the needed ten or fives.

Seller was a glass artist

Our cash situation had not improved in the afternoon as we prepared to go get the chairs. Mike counted out $32, and I tossed my one into the pile to make it $33.

“I wasn’t kidding about the quarters,” I said.

“Well, how many quarters do you have?” asked Mike.

I opened my wallet and counted out the needful two dollars in quarters, and we went to get the chairs. 

What?!! There are banks, you say, and ATM machines? Apparently we don't use them. KW

2026 FARM SEASON BEGINS

 

Yes, I have been away from the blog while recovering from extrication of a molar. The writing muse has been absent.

Here we are at the farm again, our first overnighter of the 2026 season. We’ve been busy. Opening the farm in the spring, both house and grounds, is a mixed bag of positives and negatives. On the one hand it’s lovely to see the world in bloom, but this year we have extra work due to the Horrific Windstorm of December 2025. Outdoor work continues, and we’re putting the bathroom back together. I don’t know what happened to our toothbrushes.

The early daffodils have passed, but other varieties are blooming. All three rhubarb plants look as good as they ever do. Mike and I planted three tomato plants in the raised bed, and he’s already counting the days to maturation. I hope it’s not wishful thinking. The spinach and peas haven’t sprouted. It’s anyone’s guess how the growing season will go.

These hot April days have brought the Lapin’s sweet cherry tree into bloom.

I came into the house yesterday afternoon to find the washing machine motor just purring along on its own as if it had a perfect right. (So glad we were here when this happened!) There was no turning it off either. I had to unplug it. One day last summer, the dealer called to say that this model has a defect. We said we hadn’t noticed anything, and he said he would order the part while the machine was still on warranty and we could let him know if/when we needed it. Well, I hope the part in question is the one we need.

Mike saw a pair of geese and a pair of Mallards on the pond, but we don’t know if they’re nesting or just passing through. Otherwise, I don’t hear many bird sounds, and I don’t see many. Maybe it’s just too soon. I’m watching for the hummingbirds.

Speaking of birds, the starlings that invaded the bathroom while the ceiling was open had a field day upstairs. They were clearly looking for a way out. It could have been worse. KW

FARMHOUSE REPAIRS COMPLETE

 

The contractor has finished the repairs to the roof and the master bathroom, so on Friday (April 10), Mike and I met him at the farmhouse to finalize. 

The bathroom looks great, and the new roof panels appear to match better than I originally thought. Sun and shadow probably affect its appearance.

Mike mowed the front lawn and the south side around the raised beds but had to give it up for the pain in his right shoulder and ribcage. He took a fall on his bicycle the previous day, and he was hurting. He suggests that I help with the mowing now, so with the next trip, I’ll give it a try, at least on the straightaways. I have never mowed in all the time we’ve lived here.

I raked the tire bed and planted peas and spinach. This is the earliest I have ever planted. I’m anxious to see if the seeds sprout, grow, and yield a huge crop. (I think like this every year.) Mike says maybe I could plant the tomatoes so that we actually have some before fall. The forecast is for much cooler temps over the next ten days, so I don’t think I need to hurry. The fact is that it’s just a bit iffy to plant some crops before mid-May, but maybe I should look into it.  

Last year I started my own tomatoes, and none of them bore fruit. This year I’ll just buy the plants. KW

THE BETTER THE DAY, THE BETTER THE DEED

Mike and I made another day trip to the farm on Easter Sunday. I missed sharing a Sunday morning sweet roll with our boys, but Sunday was when we could go.

We hauled the stack of firewood from the bottom of the lane to the barn – five trips in the little 4-wheeler trailer. After lunch, I weeded one of the raised beds to prepare it for tilling, while Mike processed another downed tree, made yet another slash pile, and hauled more firewood to the barn. By the time we finished our various chores, it was too late to till and plant. We headed back to town.

The contractor has repaired the metal roof on the house. You know how it is. Time marches on and the original color is no longer available, so the new metal doesn’t even come close to matching the old. Preliminary discussion included reroofing the whole house, which insurance was willing to cover, but we just didn’t want that expense or the disruption. The repair is on the back of the house anyway. We’re disappointed, but that’s the way it is. The interior repairs to the master bathroom are proceeding, and the work will be completed this week. A final inspection is scheduled for Friday.

Town trees

You know, these repairs were occasioned when the horrific windstorm of 12-17-25 thrust a slim but pointed pine branch through the metal roof and into the ceiling of the master bathroom. One thing leads to another, and the repairs were more extensive than what I would have thought.

Our town temps have been right at 80 the last few days. As my brother Chuck predicted, we went right from winter to summer. Well, it feels like that anyway, but it’s too soon to tell. KW