Happy Solstice, Merry Christmas and Happy Hannukah, Bad Blood and the Ballet, Wishes and Hopes for a New Year

Solstice double rainbow

Happy Solstice, Merry Christmas, and Happy Hannukah!

It’s 12:01 on the 22nd as I draft this post, the moon is rising on the horizon, and today was drizzly, with a beautiful double rainbow in the middle of the afternoon. Glenn and I spent are spending a quiet holiday—we went for dinner at the Fireside Lounge at Willows Lodge, where we saw two friends from our neighborhood pumpkin farm—one who was the performer of the live music. We also visited Chateau Ste Michelle, which was decorated for the holidays, and playing holiday music. We had the last book club of the year at J. Bookwalter’s winery, where we had mulled wine and a terrific discussion. We’re also delivering cookies to our neighbors and still working on holiday cards.

Woodinville lights with bunnies

It’s a quiet holiday here, which is good. I still have an MRI and more blood work to do before the end of the year. Last week I had some blood work with 40-some results, with about seven troubling “abnormal” results. Sobering, sure, but it’s not the first time immunologists and oncologists have given me bad news before a holiday, and it probably won’t be the last. On a happier note, I’ll be going to the ballet before the end of the year to see the Grand Kyiv Ballet—my little brother last saw them in the Ukraine before the war, dancing Swan Lake—perform The Snow Queen, one of my favorite fairy stories that Disney tried to ruin with Frozen. I have been to the ballet maybe a handful of times—I’ve seen The Nutcracker more than once, Peter and the Wolf, Swan Lake, and maybe one or two others. The last time I went I was writing cultural pieces for (laugh if you want) America Online. So that’s been some years. It’s good to make time for these kinds of experiences, especially if you’re in the winter, in need of beauty, of feeling something new, awe, etc., that sometimes only art can bring.

You, like me, may be struggling to feel hopeful about the new year, with the next presidency of possibly our worst president ever (not discounting terrible presidents of the past Woodrow Wilson, James Buchanan, and Andrew Jackson) and the vague rumblings of another pandemic—the bird flu—on the horizon. Sometimes it’s hard to see the moonrise when the glow of fire blots it out, an experience too frequent recently here on the West Coast. But the moon is there, all the same.

I’ve got a residency planned in January, and looking at more travel – residencies, classes in Europe, maybe. I’ve got a new book manuscript that I’m sending out to new publishers. Even if my health situation wobbles—as it has for years—there will still be joy and beauty ahead. Hospitals and medical tests and terrible politics can’t blot all that out. Read writers who lived through plagues and world wars; they all have something to say to us, now. Hope and joy can seem unreasonable in certain circumstances, but I will say sometimes hard time can push us to try new things, to take leaps we might not have taken in happier times, to find courage. Or maybe I will take hibernation to new heights. Either way, see you on the other side of the light, with days stretching longer before us. Here’s wishing you all a happy holiday season and happy-as-possible new year.

My Review of Martha Silano’s New Book on Mom Egg, Holiday Lights and Holiday Celebrations with a Full Cold Moon

Glenn, me, Loree, and Mike

Happy Holidays! Holiday Lights and Holiday Celebrations

This is a bit early, but we celebrated an early Christmas with my little brother Mike and sister-in-law Loree this weekend, which was really fun (and forced us to clean and decorate the house, not as fun but definitely needed!) We had a Christmas dinner (Glenn made it and it was delicious as usual) and caught up on things and talked about plans for next year. We both have house projects in the works for 2025. They’re going home to the Midwest for the holidays, so this was our last chance to see them. Before they left, though it had been rainy and windy when they arrived, we went outside and got a glimpse of the full Cold moon.

Today I’m finishing a few more holiday cards (definitely behind on that) and planning out the rest of the year. We also took a few pics with Redmond reindeer lights while we had some light. I’m ready for more sunshine ahead. Glad the solstice is coming up.

My Review of Martha Silano’s This One We Call Ours up at Mom Egg Review

I’m so happy to have a new review of Martha Silano’s latest, the winner of the Lynx Prize, This One We Call Ours, up at Mom Egg Review. It’s a wonderful collection and I hope you take the time to read about it—a call to action about the environment, apocalyptic and fierce. Here’s a short excerpt:

While Silano’s previous books have dealt with similar subject matter – physics, biology and the end of the world, the science of human psychology – this new book make the danger that shimmers in the background of her other books more menacing and urgent.”

As much as I liked this book, I know based on some of the poems she’s published about her journey with ALS (see: Poetry Magazine, among other places, for her work) that Martha’s next book will be even better, so keep your eye out for news about that book’s publication.

Wishing you all a safe, healthy and happy holiday.

A Busy Week of Pre-Holiday Teaching, Celebrating with Friends, SAL Event with Aimee Nezhukumatathil, and More

A Busy Week – Pre-Holiday Teaching, Celebrating with Friends, and More

I saw the sunrise more than once this week, as I got up early at the beginning of the week to do a class appearance for Dr. Lesley Wheeler’s class at Washington and Lee University at 9:30 AM Pacific Time. The class asked great questions, they asked me to read poems from Flare, Corona I hadn’t read out loud yet, and generally had great vibes despite the early hour.

This week was also filled with social activity—downtown Seattle dinner with poet friends, attending a Seattle Arts & Lectures (SAL) event, and an early morning downtown Seattle breakfast to end the week with old friend (best-selling writer and poet) Aimee Nezhukumatathil.

Next week we’ll celebrate Christmas early with my little brother and sister-in-law. In the meantime, we’re still in the middle of decorating the house, getting out holiday cards, and oh yeah, seeing endodontists for a root canal, scheduling MRIs and blood draws and eye exams. It was nice to have one week where I felt like a writer again, a real person, instead of a case study, if you know what I mean.
If you are struggling, and I know many are, please be kinder to yourself than you think you need to be. Take a trip outside your house to see people who brighten your life. See some holiday lights. Give strangers the opportunity to be friendly for once. Have that espresso martini. Tonight I’m going to try to write and send out some poems. Work on my next book manuscript. Listen to the tiny voice inside my head that says: despite everything, cling to the light.

Happy Post-Thanksgiving, A Season of Rejection, Holiday Lights with Dragons, Seeing Friends and Winter Birds

Happy Post-Thanksgiving

Hello! Hope you had a good Thanksgiving. We had a solo low-key Thanksgiving, which was nice. I’m not a huge T-Day person anyway, so we got out the Christmas tree, put on some Christmas movies, ate only the things we wanted to eat and FaceTimed with our families. We didn’t shop on Black Friday, but we did go out on Small Business Saturday and got a few things.

Here’s a shot of a sunset in Kirkland, in front of some shop holiday windows, a sunset, and some winter bird shots from my back porch, including a beautiful pileated woodpecker and a female hummingbird. I also had a week of rejections—but it’s also time that many literary mags are reopening, so it’s the circle of poetry publication, I suppose. Can’t wait for the days to get longer again!

Holiday Lights at the Bellevue Botanical Gardens, and Holiday Plans with Friends

In front of poinsettia tree at Botanical Gardens

In following my previous post about seeking to do positive things that will help lift our spirits, we visited the holiday lights—somewhat non-traditional—at Bellevue Botanical Gardens, which features dragons and flowers made of lights, as well as a very cool underwater scene. Video of dragon below pics.

This year BBG also has concerts every weekend, and when we went, they had a jazz guitar quartet, so we listened to a concert of jazz standards by Cole Porter and the Peanuts Christmas theme on steel guitar. We hadn’t seen live jazz in a long time, so it was a fun bonus.

Tomorrow I’m doing a class for a university on the East Coast early, and later in the week I’m going to meet a friend downtown for drinks and then go to the SAL event featuring Aimee Nezhukumatathil, whom I’ve known since we started blogging in….2003? So it’ll be nice to go be social a bit. I hope you are also keeping your holiday/election blues at bay with whatever makes you feel even a little happier.

Please enjoy a few seconds of this dragon light display. And have as happy a holiday season as you possibly can.

Bomb Cyclones and Power Outages, New Poems in Friction, Practical Plans for the Future, Doing Something Positive in the Face of Despair

Woodinville Holiday Lights and Rain Reflection post-bomb cyclone

Bomb Cyclones and Power Outages

We had a once-in-twenty-year bomb-cyclone storm that killed two people, injured many others, and left almost a million people without power, internet, or cell phone service. We were out of power for four days and tried to tough it out with our propane generator, but eventually went to a hotel downtown to shower, have power and heat (our house got down to 50 degrees, which is chilly!) But even there, the internet and phone weren’t working normally. I am now back at home, buried in emails, laundry and dishes, cleaning up, etc. It felt a little apocalyptic here, especially considering the bad news of the last month. What’s the old saying? “Cheer up, it could be worse!” and sure enough, I cheered up and it got worse!

The one good thing that came out of the disaster was it reminded me I can survive bad things. We went out to eat twice and out of those two times, I had an allergic reaction from something. My MS symptoms were acting up, but I didn’t collapse or need the hospital during the days the power was out. Here are Glenn and I (me with makeup put on in the dark, and no blow drier!) at the lobby of the Edgewater and Hyatt hotels, which were full of people with two dogs and two kids in tow, looking exhausted. Others happily typed away on laptops.

Sylvia with her copies of the new issue of F(r)iction

Three Poems in the New Issue of F(r)iction

But I am happy to say I had three poems appear in the gorgeous new issue of F(r)iction, pictured at left with a snuggly Sylvia (who hid all the days the power was out? She doesn’t like her routine interrupted, which I understand). My three poems were accompanied by art by Tyler Champion. You can order a subscription here. This issue is the “Dreams” issue.

In other literary news, I found out after I got home that local treasure (and really sweet human) Lena Khalaf Tuffaha had won the National Book Award for Poetry, and Percival Everett (long overlooked) had won for fiction. And I’d been rejected again for the NEA.  So good news/bad news.

Here’s a sneak peek at two of the poems. I hope you enjoy them, but the whole issue is beautiful and worth reading.

Practical Plans for the Future: Doing Something Positive in the Face of Despair

I have seen multiple people in the last week encourage those who feel despair or discouragement in the face of life (health stuff, money stuff, election stuff, friends dying, power outages, etc.) to do something positive for others or themselves in the face of despair. Something concrete. For instance, going out and being extra kind to people you interact with, who are probably also going through a hard time. Taking something over to your neighbors. Calling a friend who is struggling. If you are feeling despair about your health, doing something positive for your health—a diet tweak, starting your tai chi practice again—if you are feeling despair about your career, taking a small step—sending out a resume, taking a class.

In my case, I’m going to try to spend more time writing, editing and submitting, not just stressing out about my lack of success as a writer. Seeking out an opportunity to study or do a residency in Europe. Doing a short visit before trying to move to either Ireland or France seems wise. I’ve also looked up resources for disabled people and for people with food allergies who are moving to Europe. I’ve taken a masterclass with resources on visas, pets, banking, and work for Americans moving to Europe. I’m trying to get in touch with people I know in Ireland and France. Anyway, small, concrete steps towards my goals.

This week, I’m going to prioritize joy and connection after several weeks of feeling disconnected and despairing. I’m finally putting up some holiday decorations. Glenn and I are exchanging one present, instead of lots of things that might fill up the house (we are trying to declutter and downsize). I’ve been struggling with anxiety (and weird blood pressure) and MS symptoms, so rest and things that are good for the body and mind are on my list of things to do, too. Adding beet juice and sweet potatoes into my diet, and yes, at least a few minutes of tai chi (laugh all you want, I still suck at it, but it feels like it helps everything from balance to asthma tightness). A nightly hot cider and a few Christmas movies (The Bishop’s Wife with Cary Grant, Christmas in Connecticut with Barbara Stanwyck) might be a new habit to build in too. Giving food to food drives, clothes and toys to donation centers.

Do I sound like I have a new perspective? I think the death of my old roommate and being out of control with the power/internet/phone outage actually forced me to think about what I need to do to survive. I want you to think hard, too, about what is within your control, and how you can bring more kindness, generosity, and joy into your life, in your own sphere of influence. Sending light out there to everyone who is struggling.