The Sentencing (3/16/26)

This is the mugshot from when our fine,
upstanding citizen was picked up for burglary,
which then revealed his warrant for the accident.

If you've been following along from the beginning (there's a summary in the Plea Deal post), you know what an absolute cluster of fucks working with the State of Utah has been, so I don't know why I was surprised to find out that the dumbfuckery continued the morning of sentencing.

On January 5th, at the pre-trial hearing, when Mr. Graska (aka Sincere Deviolencia. Yes, I'm deadnaming him, and that's intentional) was offered and accepted the plea deal, we were told that the sentencing would occur in Moab, UT, because the courthouse in Monticello was under construction. No problem, we could find a place in Moab to stay. It was re-iterated a couple of times that the sentencing would be in Moab.

Come February, I decide to reach out to our victim's advocate to see if they had any agreements with hotels in Moab, noting that we didn't want to risk running into him. She let me know that they did not, and that our best bet would be to find an AirBnB if we wanted to be certain we wouldn't run into Mr. Graska. So that's what we did. I found one, sent it to Mom, and she booked it. It was perfect for housing the six of us for one night, and it was only about ten minutes from the courthouse.

Morning of the sentencing, we pack up and head out. We get to the courthouse and can't find the courtroom. We follow the signs upstairs to the District Courts, only to be told that the courtroom was downstairs. No problem. The six of us trudge back down the stairs, but don't see a courtroom. We go into a reception area to ask for directions to the judge's courtroom, only to be told that he's in Monticello.

Um, no.

We were clearly told, repeatedly, that the courthouse in Monticello was under constructions and that court would be held in Moab. I had confirmed with the victim's advocate when I was looking for lodging that the sentencing was going to be held in Moab.

At this point, it was seven minutes before court time, and Monticello is an hour south of Moab. There was no way we were going to be able to make it. The lovely ladies at the Moab courthouse were kind enough to offer a couple of solutions: 1) make room for us to log in and attend it remotely, or 2) call the judge and ask him to delay until we got there.

The clerks actually chose option two for us. They took my number, and said they'd call once they got ahold of the judge. We hustled back to the cars and headed south to Monticello. Just a couple of minutes after we got on the highway, the clerk called and let me know that the judge had a very full docket that day and that it wasn't a problem for him to push back the sentencing until we arrived.

I suppose this is the time to say that every person we've encountered throughout this journey has been amazing: kind, thoughtful, and helpful. Some of them (cough-cough-victim's advocate) just aren't very good at their jobs.

It was jolting to file into the courtroom and see Mr. Graska, just right there. Right in front of us. I don't know where else I expected him to be, but sitting in the pew a few rows ahead of us was not it. The judge allowed a few victim impact statements to be read, and allowed statements from each attorney. The defense attorney was clearly trying to argue for time served and wanted jail, rather than prison for his client. Also, the defense attorney said that it was only fair for us to hear what kind of person his client was and read a rambling statement about his client's life, pausing to choke up and cry at what he thought were key points, but mostly were just awkward. Mr. Graska was allowed to make a statement, which he did, but it was also just narcissistic drivel, and he wouldn't even turn to address us (the family). He managed to dredge up some tears, too, but I'm fairly certain that was just because he was feeling remorse about going to prison, not about what he did to our family. He'd shown zero remorse at all throughout this long process.

The judge didn't buy any of the theatrics and gave him the full sentence, after a brief lecture about how this wasn't an accident, but an inevitability for someone driving under the influence and distracted. Have I mentioned, I really like our judge?

Sadly, the full sentence is 5 years in Utah State Prison, 6 months in county jail to run concurrently. He'll be out in two. 

Did I also mention that sentencing happened to fall on Mom's 77th birthday? I guess, happy birthday Mom, your gift is that most of the court crap is over.

I want to share an impactful statement from Mrs. Deejo that resonated with everyone who heard it:

Bill was a force of nature: warm, steady, and deeply good.  His loss left a hole in our family that cannot be filled.  Life moves forward because it must, but it will never again be whole. 

Family Trip (3/15/26)

On Sunday, the Bionic Cowgirl, Nebalee, Junior, and I loaded up and headed to Moab to attend the sentencing for Daniel Graska. The weather was cold and snowy, but the trip went very smoothly. There's something to be said for having a brother who spent his career as a professional driver.

We arrived in Moab and checked into our Airbnb mid-afternoon. Nebalee and I had planned on taking a hike while we waited for Deejo and Mrs Deejo to join us in Moab. Mom and Junior opted to join us, and we set out on an adventure.

Initially, we wanted to hike in Arches National Park, but when we go there, the entrance line was an hour, so Nebalee found us an incredible hike outside of the park just a few minutes away.

Not being from Utah, and rarely hiking out there, I'd never heard of Grandstaff Canyon, but it was listed as one of the top seven or eight best hikes outside of the park. AllTrails had it listed as an "easy, flat" out and back trail of about five miles with only a 300 foot elevation gain. I know it might come as a surprise, but AllTrails lied. It was about five miles, yes, but I wouldn't have called it "flat". It wasn't overly difficult, but there were lots of water crossings and a few small scrambles, and the overall elevation gain was more than double the stated 300 feet.

Despite being lied to by AllTrails, it was an absolutely gorgeous hike that felt amazing after a full day in the car.

The beginning of the trail did start off well-groomed
and flat. Super easy.

So many water crossings, which I love!
I am breaking in some waterproof hiking boots for our trip
to Scotland in April, so I was thrilled to get to test them.

This is one of my favorite pictures from the hike.

I couldn't take a picture that does this landbridge justice.
It's an almost 300 foot span across an arch.

My amazing sister, Nebalee, with her summit pose.

Tired puppies for the first hike of the year,
still had to hike out.

My beautiful mother, the Bionic Cowgirl, 
at the end of the hike. Not bad for one day shy
of 77 years old.

The hike was just the distraction we needed, given the reason we had this road trip to Moab. It tired all of us out sufficiently that we were able to get some sleep prior to the sentencing.

Book Nook - A Lesson in Patience (2/21/26 - 2/28/26)

For Christmas 2024, Junior and Mrs Junior got me a book nook for the Magical Potting Shed. At the time, Maggie wasn't ready for decorating. She had external walls, but no interior walls or space for me to display a book nook, so my Christmas gift sat and sat.

A little Magic House book nook for the Magical Potting Shed.

Once Maggie's interior walls were finished and I started decorating, I finally bit the bullet and pulled out the project. They always look so cool when I see pictures of them, and I didn't think they could be that complicated. Boy, was I wrong.

I unpacked everything, looked at the instructions, and almost put it all away. 

I was intimidated and overwhelmed by the project. But you know the only way to eat an elephant, right? One bite at a time. So I took my first bite. I'd put on the TV for some background noise, and it took me:

• An episode of Eric Dane's "My Last Words"
• The movie "Bohemian Rhapsody"
• s1e1 of The Walking Dead
• 3/4 of s1e2 of The Walking Dead

to get one wall done.

It is cute, but so labor intensive.

One wall complete, and time to call it a night.

I put it away to work on the following weekend, in which I stayed up entirely too late to finish, but finish I did!

Mr. Boomerang giving my wiring work
a bit of a cat scan.

Finishing the project took a few hours, but went faster than the first weekend I worked on it. The wiring of the lights needed the most focus, but I managed to get it completed. And, honestly? Once I figured out how to interpret the Chinese-to-English instructions and pictographs, it was smooth sailing.

As overwhelmed and frustrated as I was to start eating this elephant, it was worth it in the end and it will look amazing in Maggie.

Pre-Spring Readiness (2/28/26 - 3/1/26)

The last few days of February were so lovely, and, as you know, I'm definitely feeling the spring bug. There were a couple of things that I wanted to get done while I had time and the weather was nice. With plans to start our seeds tomorrow, I had to get the pass-thru drilled for the extension cord. Additionally, I wanted to finish building and installing my flower boxes.

I've never drilled a big hole in a wall before, so it took me some time and research to figure out what I needed and gather it all. I bought the hole borer/cup-thingy, but didn't realize I needed the guide drill as well. Then, I realized that the wall that I needed to cut through was thicker than my drilly-hole-makey thing, so I decided to get a long drill bit to drill a pilot hole all the way through so I could make sure that the holes I drilled from each side would line up.

In theory, it was a good idea. In practice, well, it would have been a great idea if I'd drilled my pilot hole exactly parallel to the ground, but I failed to do so. I drilled the first hole from the outside of the building to the inside, as far as I could, then I handed off the drill to Jay to drill from the inside to the outside.

I'd managed to drill my pilot hole straight through at enough of an angle that the holes were off by ... a bit. Jay took after it again, and was able to connect the two holes. The result was that the outside hole was bigger than the inside one. Oops. Never fear! GunDiva is a do-er, as we well know, so I found the little crescent moon shaped piece of wall and wood glued it back into place, making the holes mostly match in size.

Then, I took a bit of PVC pipe and threaded it through the hole, creating the pass-thru. Jay caulked around the pipe on both sizes to keep it in place.

Inside Maggie.

Outside. You can see where I glued the piece
in place. I'll hit it with some more paint, and
it'll be less noticeable.

Now, when we need power to the Magical Potting Shed, we can remove the caps and run an extension hose through to provide power.

With that done, I set about building the flower boxes out of scrap wood we had laying around. Using scrap wood means that the flower boxes won't be identical, but they'll be close enough. Really, once the flowers are in and growing, it won't matter if the boxes match or not. They're approximately 40"x40" each, and I'm already panicking that they won't be big enough to grow all the flowers I bought. lol.

I also 'planted' my birdcage trellises, and secured them to Maggie's outer wall, in an effort to keep the winds from relocating them to the corn field south of us.

I laid a couple layers of cardboard down as weed barrier, and will fill the boxes with fertilizer and garden soil in the next couple of weeks. The school desk will get refinished and painted shimmery black to match the plant stands on the left, but I'll paint the metal legs silver, so it won't be quite such a black hole. L.E. likes to sit on that chair, so I'll put a flagstone stepping stone in there as a step/foot rest between the flowers.

I had intended to build smaller flower boxes out of old pallets around the base of the archway for the sweet peas, but saw a better (read: easier/lazier) idea online to use cinderblocks turned so that the holes are facing upward. Just fill the holes with soil and plant. We just happen to have a few old cinderblocks laying around the property that I can use for the project.

~~~~~

Last weekend, I feel like I got a lot accomplished, but I still wasn't quite ready to start seeds tomorrow. Last night, after circus, I headed out to Maggie to get the radiant heater and timer set up. The pass-thru worked perfectly! Tonight, after work, I'll go mount the surge protector outlet on the wall, so that we'll have a secure place to plug in our supplemental grow lights. There's also a bit of rearranging that needs to be done, but that will take 30 seconds to do.

The solar light chandelier that I made last summer lit up the space beautifully, and the radiant heater made it so cozy in there. I had to get some soil packed up for my sister, and as I was doing so, I was reflecting on how lovely, and, yes, magical, Maggie is.

Tomorrow afternoon, L.E. and I are going to get some seeds started and I can't wait to work in this cozy little spot.

Stalking: The Gift that Keeps Giving

Last night, I had a nightmare about my stalker for the first time in over a decade. I thought I had written about my stalker in previous blog posts, way back in the beginning of my blog, but I couldn't find a specific post. It's more likely that I just made mention here and there in other posts.

My children refer to it as the period of time in which we were "hunted", which directly lead to the title of my book, Hunted Lyon. I thought I'd done a good job of hiding the stalking from the kids, but obviously failed.

My stalker was, as is most common, someone I knew and had had an intimate relationship with shortly after my divorce. We'd been friends and coworkers for a few years prior to the divorce. And, no, he was not the cause of the divorce, my ex-husband's alcoholism was, but he was the rebound. A much older rebound. Ugh. Such a dumb move on my part.

Anywhoozle, while he never physically harmed me, he did a job with PsyOps, and physically destroying my property. It started with the slashing of my tires. At the time, he played it off as the hero, that he'd come over to visit and just happened to find that all four of my tires on my minivan had been slashed. I bought it, hook, line, and sinker at the time, because we were still 'together' (I use that term very loosely). He was going determined to transition from working in healthcare to an executive protection specialist, and was taking classes through Executive Security International in Aspen. At the time, the courses were basically correspondence courses. Once all of the courses were complete, then students went to Aspen for a week-long 'resident training' for the practical application of what they'd studied. 

He had grand aspirations of the two of us opening our own business, and, in fact, had already started the S-corp, but insisted on putting everything in my name. At the time, I thought he was just trying to help me out as a newly single mother. As the primary business partner, he wanted me to do the classes 'with' him, even though I wasn't enrolled as a student. I read all the assigned reading, I did all the assignments. At the time, I was also a full-time university student carrying 16-18 credits a semester. But I found the ESI coursework interesting and blew through all of it quickly. He'd look over my 'assignments', make suggestions for improvement, as though he was the instructor. I was such a naive idiot and didn't realize that he was taking my work and submitting it as his own. 'His' work was good enough to earn him top grades in every class.

What does his earning his Executive Protection certificate from ESI have to do with his stalking? Everything. Because I'd 'taken' the courses 'with' him, it became a game of cat-and-mouse. After we broke up, and I told him I no longer wanted to see/talk to him, the stalking started in earnest.

Just a few examples of his actions:

• Took my dog out of our backyard when we were gone, then went to my neighbor's house and told her that my dog had been running free and he'd clipped my dog with his car. My neighbor was horrified, checked Jake over, and put him back in our yard. Jake had never escaped the yard prior to that, so when she told me he got out and got clipped, I knew something was amiss. Jake was also very protective of us and would never have allowed a stranger who supposedly hit him with a car close enough to catch him. I didn't have my phone number/address on Jake's tag, only his name, and his rabies tag on his collar. Only someone who knew Jake, and knew where we lived, could have done it. The shitty thing was, that I'd never told him that we'd even moved, much less where. This was before social media, so it was much harder to track people down.
• Trapped us in a drive-thru at McDonald's on the highway. I didn't recognize the car he was driving, and when he pulled off the highway behind us and into the McDonald's drive-thru, I didn't think anything of it - that particular location is incredibly convenient and busy at all times. When he parked in the line behind us and got out, I started telling the person taking our order to call the police. Multiple times. He approached, and I told him again that I didn't want to see or talk to him and that I'd asked for the police to be called. I had my gun with me, but it was in my soccer bag in the trunk of the car, where it did absolutely no good. I did realize, in that moment, that I could absolutely shoot someone who threatened me and my kids, and I'd do it with a clear conscience.
• Showed up at my door with his kick-me dog, trying to be cute and telling me that his stupid dog missed his 'mama'. By that time, I'd been to the police to seek a restraining order, despite my feelings about them. I didn't have enough evidence to obtain one. Of course I didn't, he'd never put hands on me, and I couldn't prove anything. The officer working the desk when I went to ask for a restraining order (who, ironically, knew both of us) told me to write a cease and desist letter and the next time he showed up, to give it to him. I handed him the letter, informed him of what it was, and told him the next time he showed up, I'd shoot him with the gun he bought me.

After I gave him the cease and desist, I never physically saw him again, though he wasn't out of my life completely. Before the kids and I moved from the duplex in which the whole thing began, but after I'd broken up with him, I got a call from the FBI. He'd been in Texas and caught their attention. He tried using our 'business' (that never really got up and running) as justification for whatever he'd been arrested for, so of course they called the business owner. I let them know that the business had been dissolved and we'd gone our separate ways, that he owed me a good chunk of money, and that last I'd heard he'd moved to Texas. The were pretty tight-lipped, but asked me to call them if he contacted me. Absofuckinglutely, I'd call them. 

A couple of weeks later, a check with a CD that he'd burned arrived. Not the full amount that he owed me, about half, but the minute I opened the check I was on the phone to the FBI. It felt a lot like hush money. Like he knew they'd eventually contact me and he wanted to be in my good graces when they did. Fucker. They took the CD and told me to deposit the check. If it cleared, it was mine since he owed it to me, but thanks for letting them know.

After we'd moved, to our new place, and I realized he was back in town and knew where we lived, I contacted ESI. I don't know much about how they do business now, but back then, if you were a graduate, and a client needed to hire someone, they would recommend one of their grads. I couldn't fathom allowing them to recommend him to anyone. When I called and spoke to the director, I laid everything out. He listened quietly, then told me that they were aware of his actions (probably from the FBI) and had blacklisted him, that they wouldn't even acknowledge him as a graduate.

The kids and I moved again, and I began to let down my guard. Over the years, I could feel when he'd been lurking about, but never again laid eyes on him. After a couple of years without feeling him around, I relaxed and allowed myself to believe it was over.

And it was.

Then, Nebalee (who also had her own stalker) asked if I ever Googled him to see what he was up to. I never had. I was happy to have the whole incident behind me. She cajoled me into doing a quick Google search, and my heart leapt for joy when I found he'd been dead for years. I can't find the newspaper obit, but he died alone in Canon City (the city, not the prison), with no one to claim his body. He had family, a brother, sister, and two daughters who had been no contact with him since before we met. That should have been a clue, but of course his story was that their mother kept them away from him. Oh my God, I believed anything that came out of that man's mouth. LOL.

And that brings us back to: WHY THE HELL DID I HAVE A NIGHTMARE ABOUT HIM? AND WHY NOW? He's been out of our lives for a long time, and dead since 2011.

Stupid brain, digging up old traumas.

More Spring Pretending (2/16/26)

When I ordered the flowers that I wanted from the "Goth Garden Bundle", I looked at flower heights, because I didn't want them to grow too tall. 

The seeds arrived and I went through them, reading the sowing instructions and plant heights to start planning out the flower beds. Well, one of the packages of flower seeds I ordered was Beaujolais Sweet Peas. Only then did I realize I misread the heights as 7-8 inches. In actuality, they grow 7-8 feet. 

I had already scrounged around and used all of the cattle panels and t-posts on the property, so since Mom was down with the truck last week to deliver the bunk beds, I asked her to stop by Tractor Supply to pick up a hog panel and some t-posts to build another trellis/archway.

Mom dropped me and my supplies off, then had to run off to meet Junior. Usually, I have Jay come help me when I'm putting up an archway, because I never really put any thought into doing it myself. I had run across a FB reel of an old guy demonstrating how to do it solo, and put my do-er pants on. 

Could I have waited until the weekend when Jay was home to help? Of course. 

Did I want my arch trellis put up Right Now? Of course. 

After watching the old farmer do it on his reel a couple of weeks prior, I decided I could do it my own self.

So I did.

Three quarters of the way complete, 
I needed a break.

Using the t-post driver while holding being backed into the hog panel to keep it out of the way was a lot more difficult than I'd anticipated. But I'm stubborn, and I wanted it done. After a short break, I got back at it, and got the fourth t-post driven and secured the panel to the posts with wire.

The posts on the left are not at all square.
I don't care :)

Now, I have to build the flower boxes to go around the base of the trellis and build the flower boxes that will be in front of Maggie. I left 40" between the trellis and the flower boxes, to match the spacing between Whimsy's tomato boxes and her trellises. It's enough room to walk between the trellis and box, but not so distant that it seems disconnected. I also was careful to make sure there was enough room between the front of the trellis and the barn (out of frame) to the right for a truck and trailer to drive through (the Bionic Cowgirl thought of that). It might be tight-ish, but it's doable.

Bunk Beds

We've had a set of bunk beds in our family since the Bionic Cowgirl was a kid, which makes them over 70 years old. She slept in them throughout her childhood, then when she had us, we all slept in them. I have some fantastic memories of these bunk beds, including some of my earliest memories.

Nebalee and I would jump from the top bunk down into Deejo's crib when we were wee ones, and the three of us shared a room. Gosh, I would have been five-ish, and we were living in a little duplex on the edge of town. That would have put Nebalee about two, so maybe she didn't jump with me, but just climbed up onto the top bunk with me. I definitely remember soaring from the top bunk to the crib more than once.

Then, when we lived in the yellow house that Mom and Dad built, we learned that if we laid perpendicular to the bed on the top bunk, we could lean over and grab the springs on the bottom of the bed, then roll out in a somersault, landing in a seated position on the bottom bunk. At that point, Junior was too young to join us, but Nebalee, Deejo, and I entertained ourselves for hours doing that. I can still feel the little butterflies in my tummy as I rolled off the bed. Eventually, I got a bit too big to do that, and stopped when I got my hair caught in the springs.

After my kids were born, and I left my first husband, the heathi slept in the bunk beds at the Bionic Cowgirl and Papa Bill's house. Unfortunately, the ceiling in the room they shared was too short to have them set up as bunk beds, and were broken apart into two twin beds. Once we moved back out on our own, the twin beds got moved upstairs to a bedroom big enough to stack them again, and the kids got to sleep on them when they visited. Digger swears he remembers falling off of the top bunk, but I don't, so it must not have traumatized me as much as it did him. LOL

When Mom and Bill bought the lodge, the bunk beds went with them, and lived in the apartment for 25 years. Many guests slept in those bunk beds over the course of that quarter century, but when Junior and Mrs Junior moved up to help with the lodge, they took over the apartment and the bunk beds came down.

Last weekend, they were loaded up onto the truck and moved to their new home with Digger and the Gremlin.

Digger and the Bionic Cowgirl with the official
passing down of the bunk beds.

Mom brought down enough bedding to make both beds, but Digger has plans to make that into a fort/reading nook for Gremlin, so we left it unmade. He's the fourth generation of kids to sleep on these beds and my heart is so incredibly happy.

The Gremlin was at his mom's house when we delivered and put up the beds, so it was a surprise for him when he came home on Tuesday and saw them. Digger was kind enough to take a video of his reaction, which was so sweet. Unfortunately, I don't know how to edit videos well enough to obscure the little one's face, so you'll just have to take my word for it that it was adorable.

This morning (2/19/26) Digger sent me a picture of Gremlin on the top bunk. He learned how to safely climb up to the top and was working on learning how to safely get down (until his Lola (me) teaches him how to somersault off!).

So proud of himself.