Valerie Mangion         

My mother died on August 30, 1999. With some money she left me, I fulfilled my life-long dream of getting my own horse. Against all advice, I wanted a baby horse I could raise myself. Once a year, a nearby couple used to bring back a semi load of foals from a “urine ranch” in Canada. Did you know that the female hormone replacement drug “Premarin” stands for "pregnant mares’ urine" ? The foals that result from keeping mares pregnant in order to collect their urine are often s

Friday, New Year’s Eve, 1999 I’m supposed to be amazingly reflective on the eve of the new millennium. I’m too busy cleaning up manure, scooping litter boxes and obsessing about the horse to give much thought to The Meaning Of My Life. I guess the pets are serving their purpose. I read in the paper yesterday that most of the abhorrently expensive New Year’s Eve package deals promoters have been pushing for years are a big bust. This is the year almost everyone prefers to stay

(Today is my birthday, so it's fitting that I opened to a passage about my mother.) April 9, 1999 I'm so angry with my mother. She's such a snot. When we were hanging out in her room Sunday, I said "Mom, think of me. All my sisters will probably die before me, Ellis will probably die before me...what am I going to do? "Well," she said in a mean, sing-song voice, "You'll have to live in a nursing home." She said it gleefully, like ha-ha, ha-ha. "Right," I said, "and who will b