Adventures in Idaho!!! (And the Evil Potato Coffee)

Hello all, I hope you had more fantastic weeks than the thought of a hundred corgis dancing to the sound of iced-tea being stirred.

Well first off, I want to send out a titanic thank you to everyone who came out for the book signing in Boise! I had an absolute blast! It was great talking with old friends and making some new ones.

Thank you also to Hyde Park Books for hosting such an awesome event!

If you missed me the first time around, I will probably be back in Boise for another book signing once "Life is a Pirate Ship Run by a Velociraptor" is released!

I am also excited to announce that I have a book signing coming up in Spokane as well!

On June 28th at noon there will be a Triple Threat Book Signing event at Auntie's Bookstore! I will be joining two other authors, Su Williams and Katelyn Schneider, for a book signing bonanza right in the center of Hoopfest! So, if you happen to be in Spokane, please join us!

Well, I had a moment where I decided to live my hair color over the weekend, and, because I have no sense of personal shame, I thought I'd let you all learn from my mistakes.

My first mistake was thinking that I could get drinkable gas station coffee. Granted, I wasn't expecting the coffee to taste like it was roasted by the coffee gods themselves, but I thought I could at least get something palatable, right?

Oh how wrong I was.

I was filling up the tank of La Grange (my truck) in Pendleton, Oregon outside possibly the largest gas station mini-mart I had ever seen when I got a serious case of the "tireds." I had four hours left of my seven hour drive and if I was going to make it, without attempting to introduce my truck to some road barriers, I was going to need a pick-me-up. 

The first thing I noticed when I entered the mini-mart was an entire wall of swords. No, I'm not kidding, swords.

If the zombie apocalypse happens, this will be my gas station.

Because after all, who doesn't go to the gas station mini-mart and think, "I'm traveling through rural Oregon, you know what I need? Swords." 

I wandered past the display of medieval weaponry and headed for the coffee machine only to find that it was broken. 

In my desperate need for caffeine I invested $1.23 in what the machine I got this concoction from claimed was a "Cappuccino."

Apparently "Cappuccino" at the "Swords-R-Us" gas station mini-mart meant, "Tastes like a sugary potato."

I kid you not, this was the most spud flavored coffee I have ever tasted. Headed down the road I choked down about three sips before I admitted defeat. There was no way I could drink this "Crappuccino."

As the substance began to sit in my truck, I noticed that my ride had a certain "rotten sugar potato" smell to it. Of course, I decided to get rid of the sad attempt at coffee.

How does one normally get rid of a liquid substance while traveling down the road? You dump it out the window of course!

What I failed to take into account is that this is a course of action I usually take when I am driving through town at 25 miles per hour. I was going around 70.

I rolled down my window and...

Yup, coated the entire side of my truck in potato coffee.

That is how I found myself at the gas station in Kennewick frantically scrubbing the side of my car with one of those windshield washer scrapey dealies as people stared on like I possibly needed to take my medication.

What lessons did this adventure teach me?

1. One should never forget the physics involved in liquids and 70 mph travel.

2. It's really hard to change lanes when you can't check your blind spot because of "potato coffee" smudges.

3. "Potato Coffee" would be an awesome band name.

If you want to keep up with my crazy, check it out on Facebook, Twitter (@AllisonHawn) and Goodreads!

It Takes a Community...

Hello all! I hope you all survived your respective weeks with finesse and grace.

In contrast, I spent much of my week pretty much doing this:

Before I jump in to why I might as well have been IV injecting caffeine, I should probably announce the results of the latest contest.

Thank you everyone who voted for "Life is a Circus Run by a Platypus" to win a People's Choice Award. Sadly, I did not win, but I was the runner up with 93 votes because my readers are rad! Our t-shirt winner was Lauren Schmitt-Boyd! Wear your platypus with pride, Lauren!

 I also, finally, have the results from the November and December book drive to benefit the YWCA! Thank you to everyone who bought a copy of "Life is a Circus Run by a Platypus", you raised around $100 that will go to help support women and men who suffer from homelessness, domestic violence and other life-barriers! Thank you! 


I realize that on this blog I tend to stay on the lighter side of life, however, we must all admit that life is not always peaches and cream.

My day job, when I'm not driving my coworkers insane, is working with those that society has mostly forgotten. I work with those who are homeless, women and men who face domestic violence, ex-convicts, street kids, people with active warrants, veterans, drug addicts, those with untreated mental diagnosis, sometimes people who smell like excrement and people who have struggles in their lives bigger than they are.

I am a social worker.

This post is not to get on any platform or start some political argument based around who does and does not deserve help. Though, honestly, if anyone is going to have a judgmental attitude about those I serve, please keep in mind I've always wanted to try this:

I bring up my vocation because of what I was a part of this week. Every year in Spokane, or for the past three years, The Homeless Coalition has held an event called The Homeless Connect. The event is basically a one-stop-shop for social services.

Why might that be important? Ok, imagine, if you will that you are homeless and your main form of transportation is your feet. Now imagine that in one day's time you have to go set up an appointment to see if you qualify for housing, then travel six miles to see if you can get on a computer at the local labor office so you can check to see if your resume has been accepted by any companies, then you must walk another four miles to find the nearest place that is serving lunch, then you must walk another five miles to see if you can get on a list to stay in a shelter (because, after all, if you don't get your name in early, you won't get a bed)...


If you want to survive, there is no such thing as being homeless and lazy.

The average homeless person will walk upwards of ten to fifteen miles a day to receive basic services. The Homeless Connect, for one day a year, unites as many agencies as we can get in one location changing that ten to fifteen miles into the distance of one gymnasium.

I was on the planning committee for this event, which took months and months of tired looking social workers gathering around a table and saying things like, "Does anyone have any idea who actually said they would show up this year?"

 Well, as it turns out, over 40 agencies showed up. We had veterans services, DSHS, domestic violence services, a free medical clinic, a group that came to fix homeless peoples' bikes for free, mental health services and representatives from the school districts. We even had a group of cosmetology students come and volunteer to give free haircuts to people, some of which hadn't been able to get a haircut in years.

The event fed over 200 people and gave them a warm place to be for a day with wraparound services at their fingertips.

I spent all day on my feet, running about like I had weasels in my pants, but could not have been happier with the results. So much good was done mostly because of the community members who showed up to help.

I truly appreciate all of the social workers, agencies, volunteers and people who donated food and money to get this event off of the ground. You've probably heard that old phrase, "It takes a village to raise a child," but just as true, "It takes a community to help people out of homelessness."

That is what I want this blog post to be about, a moment to realize the difference that communities can make to the downtrodden in our society. In a time of rapidly shrinking resources in the world of social work, it is more important than ever that communities come together in meaningful ways to help the forgotten.

Probably one of the best moments of the entire whirlwind event was when a little old man wandered up to a service provider and said, "Thanks for not making me feel all alone."

My little one-line eavesdrop reminded me a of a poem written by my friend B.S. Johnson, which I have put, with her permission, below:


 Alone

Sometimes I feel like I'm in this world alone,
All I seem to do is wander and roam.
Feelings from deep down inside my soul,
Surround my heart, my mind and don't let go.

Help me someone; don't let me fall too far,
Had my chance, missed my falling star.
Fear in my heart, gripping my throat,
Sinking quickly in this boat.


Thank you to everyone who takes the time to help the homeless and downtrodden in their communities feel less alone in their struggles.


As always, feel free to check out my daily adventures on Facebook, Twitter and Goodreads!