Celebrating 32 Years at sunset at the Lavender Farm

Celebrating our (ahem) 32nd Wedding Anniversary

Greetings and welcome to summer in the Pacific Northwest. Temperatures are in the seventies, birds fly through the air, deer wonder through the garden.

This year we had a low-key celebration of our 32nd year of marriage. Isn’t that crazy? We walked around the lavender garden, we had cocktails and dessert at Willows Lodge. No trips to Paris or Italy and Hawaii, just a low key night in our own neighborhood, but that’s okay. It made me think about how we like to celebrate, especially when we don’t have a lot of spare cash lying around. We listened to a little live music and observed a beautiful sunset (and some delicious ice cream) and that seems like a night to be thankful for.

: Me with cocktail at Willows Lodge Fireside Lounge

: Sunset Mt Rainier with lavender

: Glenn with his Blueberry Haze at Willows Fireside Lounge

Anxieties (in the World and in Me and in the Poetry World) and a Mini Book Review

There seems to be a lot of anxiety in the world these days. I mean, I’m having a lot of anxiety, and I’ve had terrible trouble sleeping the last few weeks. In the poetry world and the writing world, there are anxieties about publishing and AI. In the regular world, the Iran war goes on, inflation continues to rise while wages stagnate. Every television show I watch is about something to be afraid of, and the news is exactly the same. Glenn’s parents have had crisis after crisis the last couple of months, and my own mom (who is dad’s sole caretaker) ended up in the hospital this week. My own health insists on getting in the way of doing the things I love.

How do you alleviate your anxiety, if you do? Or as the therapists and kids say, “Regulate” your anxiety?

I was talking to a writer friend about both of our different levels of feelings of failure, worry about money (or lack thereof), lack of reviews/teaching jobs/grants/awards, and talking about what truly brings writers satisfaction. I know I’m happier when I’m writing, and I haven’t been writing enough. My friend was saying (after doing a bunch of readings) that she’d just like to spend some time by herself. The balance between promotion and spending time reading and writing is hard for all writers all the time, but it seems harder lately.

This brings me to my mini-book review of The Adjunct by Maria Adelmann. A sort-of-satire of the universe of Creative Writing and English major adjuncts, a young woman who’s gotten her PhD is trapped in a cycle of trying to earn a living as an adjunct, her reputation smeared by a professor who slept with her when she was his student, doing gig work on the side. This English PhD did not 1) come from money or 2) go to the fanciest school and is always in the process of writing the book that will help her hopefully break out of adjuncting hell, except the book is always on Post-It notes in a cramped and unheated borrowed office space. In the end (spoiler alert, but not really), she ends up unable to support herself, living out of her car when she gets carjacked and then she is homeless, turned down for multiple fast-food jobs, and becomes what basically is a prostitute. Overwrought? Melodramatic to the point of Dickens? Maybe, but now that universities are using adjuncts for 75 percent of teaching and not giving benefits or paying a living wage, and stories of adjuncts dying in their offices not even being uncommon, this is probably more realistic than I’d like to admit. Here’s a quote from the first page of the book:

I’m writing at two a.m. from the adjunct office in the literature wing…The ideal setting for an Agatha Christie novel in which the ensemble cast gets knocked off one by one. The disappointing big reveal is that, actually, capitalism did it, and suddenly you realize that you aren’t in a mystery novel at all but just another Jacobin article…there’s a twist beyond the twist: It’s just real life.”

The speaker of this novel is very much like me—except I never slept with a professor, and I never got my PhD (just an MA and an MFA) and I’ve never been car-jacked. But I do have MS, several genetic health issues that are expensive to treat, and I did adjunct for four years, with a boss who was male, younger and less accomplished than I was, making less money (if it can be believed) than I make on the regular as a freelance writing poet, far less than minimum wage. Now, I worked as a technical writer for ten years–that’s how I got to Seattle, recruited by Microsoft–but if I hadn’t chosen that path and gone into literature studies instead, I could be as helpless and penniless, no savings account, no home, no health insurance. I became too sick to work the hours that Microsoft did (and still does) require when I became an adjunct. If I hadn’t had a husband–what would have been my future? And I thought about the “Gifted Child” syndrome and the “Rory Gilmore Failure” syndrome–if girls who are praised as intelligent and gifted since they were young are told to get their PhDs and there will be jobs waiting for them–well, we’ve been sold a sack of goods. Becoming a writer for money is tough–especially without backup money and connections, which let’s face it, almost all the famous poets you know came with as a package. Journalism, poetry–heck, people (according to the Atlantic) don’t even read any more. Am I a failure because capitalism doesn’t reward the work I love? I have published eight books total, six of poetry. I’ve had good reviews and good publishers and made friends along the way that I treasure. Have I gotten an NEA grant or a Guggenheim or Whiting Award? Even made the long list for a Pulitzer. Nope. And I have to face that fact that at my age, that may never happen. And earning a living writing? Is that a pipe dream I should let go of? Maybe so.

Mt Rainier, yellow wildflowers

Summertime in the Pacific Northwest

After my anxiety post, you may be surprised to see me waxing on about the beauties of my backyard, the Pacific Northwest summers in general, the birds and flowers and mild weather that make living here the rest of the year worth it. We’re having a cool summer so far, thank goodness. Having MS makes summertime less fun, usually, because MS people tend to be sensitive to heat. But it’s wonderful to be able to walk every evening, to see all the beautiful flowers and trees in the garden I take care of all year finally in bloom, to be able to make grilled watermelon on the grill (really good if you haven’t tried it.) Yes, I’ve had insomnia, and not the fun kind where you write a lot more, the unfun kind where your body is just not listening to your signals correctly. But outdoor concerts and movies, gathering with friends – our winery book club had its entire meeting outdoors last time, with only one yellowjacket threateningly near – and the longer days all seem to give the world a more golden, carefree glow. Wishing you perfect summer weather and a chance to get into nature this week. And may your anxiety lessen. (Now to try to get to sleep!)

: Doe a Deer

: Goldfinch at fountain

: Wren in grass

After the Fourth, What We Fear and What Brings Joy, Walking in Rose and Lavender Gardens, and GOOAAALL

Glenn and I in lavender

After the Fourth, Walking in Rose Gardens, and What We Fear

I hope your Fourth of July was as happy as possible. We had some family over for a cookout, watched our local fireworks on television, and took a stroll in a rose garden at a nearby winery that was actually open on the fourth.

As Trump tries to ruin everything, instead of celebrating America on its 250th birthday, he pumped up his crowd with fear—this time, mysteriously, a fear of…communism? You know what? I’m not scared of communism at all. I’m afraid that AI will kill humanity. I’m afraid data centers will render power and water scarce and destroy our environment. I’m afraid that government trying to control my body because I’m a woman or making ten-year-old rape victims have babies that might kill them. I’m afraid of a population twisted by hate. I’m afraid of a health care system that does nothing but expensively let us down. But communism? Nah.

Paris celebrates the USA’s 250th

I think what he was really thinking of was Democratic Socialists in the vein of AOC, who preach things like free health care for all and education for all, and taxes for billionaires. Oh, and spending on human needs, not war and AI. And you know what? Those ideas are really popular right now for America. Are you for all those things? I definitely am too. Let’s look to Europe for examples on how to do it right—particularly in Scandinavians countries. I know America can do better for its people that it’s doing right now. I hope we have an educated enough electorate to throw out corrupt evil old men, and maybe elect some young women to run this country the right way for a while. Hey, at least that would be novel, right?

: Glenn and I in red white and blue – wildflowers!

: Pink roses at Chateau Ste Michelle

: Glenn and I pose in roses on the fourth

What are you looking forward to? My 32nd wedding anniversary and my husband’s birthday (double fives) are next week, though we’re not planning much splash because of budget concerns. However, having a pleasant 70°F day to walk through a lavender garden or a rose garden, spending time with friend and family, catching up on bird-watching and reading outdoors on the back deck, those are all low-cost, high joy things that I can do. I am also looking forward to the soccer match to be played in Seattle, US vs Belgium, and the (hopefully) celebratory spirit that it will bring to the city. We could all use a little joy right now, right?

Recovery Week with Goldfinch, Almost Fourth of July and the 250th, and the Question of Patriotism

Sunset with hummingbird garden

Recovery Week with Goldfinch

It’s been a quiet week here. Remember that tooth that kicked me out of the writing residency at the beginning of the month? Finally got it fixed, but it took almost a week to recover. On Tuesday, it was ninety degrees. Today it was gray and in the sixties. The Strawberry moon tonight looks more like spooky October than end of June. Meanwhile, I’ve been watching birds and listening to audiobooks and watching Film Noir on TCM.

: Goldfinch Sipping at the Fountain

: Goldfinch on Cherry

: In Flight

Me with red hair and wildflowers

Almost the Fourth of July. How Patriotic Are You Feeling?

Saturday is the 4th of July and the 250th anniversary of this fair country. This week the Supreme Court ruled, in line with Donald Trump’s well-known contempt for not just women and people of color but also disabled people (sound like any Hitlers you know?), that people with disabilities don’t have a right to live in their own homes. A lot of us are worried this means a return in being placed in institutions for being “inconvenient.” You can read more about it here. A load of laughs, right? It also took away some of the rights of people to claim asylum here. Whenever I get a bit of patriotism back, like while watching the World Cup, the USA reveals just how evil it can be. It’s hard to stay upbeat.

Spooky Strawberry Moon

But you can look back at history and see that even at its inception the so-called founding fathers didn’t agree on what America should be. One said that slavery was an evil that would rip the country apart. He was right. Another said without the votes of women, the country wouldn’t be granting everyone a voice. We went another two hundred years without the vote. They didn’t agree about the rights of states vs the Federal government, either. And we are bearing the brunt of these theoretical arguments. We the people are supposed to be able to define what America means, what it is, what it values. Gerrymandering and court decisions can’t take away our power, but it can certainly feel like our voices are diminished.

This woodpecker thinks he’s a hummingbird

We have to remember right now that there are freedoms and joys in the world. If there are things you love about America—freedom of speech, freedom of the press, freedom of religion—or even things like national parks, ice in your Coke, and the ability to wave a rainbow flag in a parade—then it is worth fighting to make this current America more like the one that contains your American dream, where the one percent don’t control everything, where we all have a chance to make a decent wage and own a house, where we have equal opportunity for medical care and education and jobs. Where the disabled and people of color and women aren’t pushed around by a fascist regime.

Glenn and I with wildflowers, at the Woodinville Lavender Farm

Yesterday I braved the outside world long enough to walk in some wildflowers in the lavender garden down the street. I’ve invited people over for the 4th of July for a cookout and even dyed my hair red. I thought about a playlist for the 250th birthday of America, and thought of Paul Simon’s 1973 American Tune and Aimee Mann’s 4th of July. All the songs I could think of, in fact, were more bittersweet. I remember how optimistic I felt in the nineties, about tech and my own future and yes, America. I hope to feel that optimism again. Wishing that for all of us.

Happy Solstice! A New Poem in Crab Creek Review, Reading at J. Bookwalter’s, Birdwatching as Contact Sport, Cyclical Economic Misery

Poppies and Mt Rainier, Woodinville Lavender Farm

Happy Solstice!

Happy Solstice! I hope you are taking some time to celebrate, even if it’s just an American soccer victory or extra sunshine that you can feel good about. Our local lavender field had a celebration with vendors for the Solstice, and stayed open late, so we wondered around and took some pictures. It’s also Father’s Day, so for those who are fathers, who lost fathers, who celebrate their fathers, sending good thoughts your way. And Happy Juneteenth! It’s also been a crazy heat wave (nineties again tomorrow), and we are already eyeing with suspicion the fires that are popping up around us.

: Glenn and I with lavender, Solstice

: White and Blue Lavender, Solstice

: Me Solstice Eve, with lavender

: Mt Rainier and wheel, roses

A New Poem in Crab Creek Review

Sylvia and Crab Creek Review

I just had a new Solstice poem come out in the newest issue of Crab Creek Review, but ironically, it’s about Winter Solstice. Here’s a sneak peek:

Great Blue Heron flying overhead

Readings and Birdwatching as a Contact Sport

In the last few days, I MC’d a reading at J. Bookwalter in Woodinville for their Wine and Poetry series, with poets Catherine Broadwall and Deirdre Lockwood, a local oceanographer. It was warm and sunny (you can tell I’m wearing sunglasses because there was so much glare inside!), but it was a good night AND Glenn did his first ever open mic performance, which I wish I had recorded, where he recited John Berryman’s Dream Song 14. I realized he is a better public speaker than I am, lol.

Catherine Broadwall with her new book, me, and Deirdre Lockwood with her new book

We also tried a real birdwatching trek because someone had posted about seeing a Lazuli Bunting at a local park. So, forgetting I don’t do well in heat, or sun, or, let’s face it, outdoors with hills and a lot of brush and non-paved pathways, we went on an adventure to a well-known birding trail at Marymoor Park. Despite wearing long sleeves, long pants, shoes and socks, plus sunscreen and two kinds of insect repellent, I still got attacked by a tick on my wrist while I was taking a shot (brushed it off within ten seconds, but still managed to leave a bite behind that required a doctor visit) and a black fly (which I am allergic to), so after an hour, I had to call it quits. It felt like nature had personally attacked me and told me I was an indoor cat, and keep to my own space, lol. On the birdwatching side, we saw about forty Great Blue Herons fly right over our heads, I saw Purple Martins and Tree Swallows and Yellowthroats, and multiple pairs of Lazuli Buntings (which is my first time ever seeing this dream bird). Oh, and did I mention my three-year-old Sony camera’s motherboard went out WHILE we were taking pictures? I didn’t get as many good ones, but it was still fun to see those birds.

: Tree Swallow (or Purple Martin?) it was low light and my camera was fritzing out

: A very fuzzy pic of the Lazuli Bunting (which has a beautiful song, too)

: Minibun under a fern

Wide shot, poppies and mountain

Cyclical Economic Misery

I wanted to share some advice from my mother, who is 74 this year. I was discussing our money woes (too much outcome, not enough income) and the global stagflation that is making everyone nervous, and she told me not to stress out about money this year. I am 53, and the economy has never felt so bad to me—and I graduated into a recession in 94, lived through the dot-com recession, the housing recession—and this is definitely worse. My mother was recalling the seventies, when we also had a big stagflation problem, gasoline stations had LINES, interest rates for credit cards and mortgages were at 17 percent and higher. Of course, they weren’t coming out of a global pandemic, but they were at the tail end of Vietnam and a very unpopular President. She said in these years, we have to remember miserable economic times are cyclical, that we will (hopefully) survive them, and we won’t always be worrying so much about paying for groceries and student loans and medical bills. We in the Pacific Northwest are also in the middle of a nasty heat wave (record-breaking June temps, including nineties for more than one day) and so is France, where they don’t have a) ice and b) air conditioning. Seattle homes and businesses didn’t used to have air conditioning when I moved here but it is slowly becoming more widespread as global warming beaches gray whales and makes being outside or inside miserable, and people literally die from the weather. The climate, while some of it is man-damaged, is also cyclical—before humans arrived, we still had mini-ice ages and heat waves, California still had wildfires regularly, volcanoes caused their own globally important weather. What is the point of saying all this? Yes, we are in a hard time, the hardest time I remember in my lifetime, a time that can beat up hope and leave us cringing at every weather and news report and struggling to pay the bills and find work, and meanwhile it seems that billionaires are running the show while politicians get dumber and more corrupt. But people have felt this way before. We will survive this. I don’t know if we will return to the optimism that characterized the late eighties and the whole of the nineties, but I will sustain a hope that it will, that we will get a better President, better people in charge, a movement towards justice and protecting the rights of women and the environment. A recent poll showed that more people would vote for AOC than JD Vance. That’s got to be a good sign of something, right? RIGHT? Okay, economic musings are done.

In the meantime, enjoy your solstice, your World Cup, your lavender fields and anything else you can find joy in.

Woodinville’s Lavender Farm Opens, Hot Weather and Football, Summer Bugs and Birds, and More

Beloved Woodinville Lavender Farm Opening Weekend

This shot of purple and white lavender blooms are from our local beloved JB Family Grower’s Lavender Farm, across from Willows Lodge in Woodinville.

I’ve been down with a summer virus all week (fun!) and the heat was pretty intense for Seattle this weekend (over 90 degrees!), but we managed an evening visit right before close. A lot of the lavender is already in bloom, as well as a wildflower field including poppies, and the gift shop is selling lavender lemonade, so I say go for a visit as soon as you can! The mountain was out when we were there, and it was wonderful to stand in the field and watch the sun over Mt. Rainier.

: Glenn and I at the lavender farm at almost sunset

: Mt Rainier over early lavender

: Our neighbor’s Rainier cherry tree

The third picture is of cherries in my neighbor’s tree, not pictured are the tiny squirrels shaking the tree to make cherries fall on me, and chittering as they pointedly ate the cherries right in front of me. It was clear they had taken control!

Not a hummingbird – Hairy Woodpecker on a hummer feeder

Hot Weather, Football, Baby Birds

The overly record-breaking heat has brought out the birds—some of them in strange places, like this baby Hairy Woodpecker on our hummingbird feeder.

I have another shot of baby woodpecker being fed and a Rufous Woodpecker hanging out in our bird feeder.

With MS, you have to avoid the heat, and I wasn’t feeling my best this week (had to postpone a meeting with poets and a root canal), so I was inside to watch the amazing American soccer game in the World Cup, where they beat Paraguay by three points. Seattle is a host city, so the World Cup is all over the news (and many of us have had to cancel downtown doctor appointments and visits to downtown for any reason because of the crowds and traffic).

: Rufous Hummingbird in bird fountain

: Hairy Woodpecker feeder baby

And I can’t talk about it in detail, but we’ve also had very stressful in-law drama over the last two weeks—dealing with aging parents in a far-away state with multiple issues is no joke—and so we’re hoping for a less stressful rest of the month.

This Thursday night (6/18) is Poetry Night at J. Bookwalter’s Books, and the featured readers are Catherine Broadwall and Deirdre Lockwood, 6:30 Thursday night, with wine available and a short open mic after.

Hoping we all stay safe in the heat and remember to take care of yourselves and others this week.

Celebrating our (ahem) 32nd Wedding Anniversary