Jeannine Hall Gailey's Blog

Roozengaarde’s Dahlias and Sky

October Trip to Skagit Valley

We had one day of warm sun and seventy-degree weather so we took a quick day trip up to Skagit Valley, where we stopped into the Northwest Museum of Art, Roozengaarde’s gardens to pick up our daffodil and tulip bulbs, and Gordon’s Pumpkin Farm, where, fun fact, a small black kitten walked up to me and meowed while I was looking at pumpkins, which seems like the most Halloween thing ever. We also saw eagles, herons, a seal, pelicans we mistook for snow geese, basically all the wildlife you could hope to see in October.

Pumpkins at Gordon’s Pumpkin Farm

I immediately feel physically better when I go up to Skagit Valley – less traffic? Cleaner air? Friendlier people? Abundant wildlife? Whatever it is, it just feels as if I literally breathe easier an hour north. I also found a dress with a book print that’s perfect for readings. It’s the little things.

Anyway, if you get a sunny day in fall in the Pacific Northwest, it’s worth the side trip to Skagit Valley. It’s no substitute for my missed trip to San Juan Island, but it did put me in better spirits.

At McMurtrey’s Farm with dahlias during sunbreak

Application Anxieties and Reading Early Cyberpunk

When I got back, I had more mental energy and took on two tasks I’d been putting off – applying to residencies and fellowships. I also looked around at who to send my current book-in-progress to, thinking about where I am in my writing life (what do I actually want at this point? What am I aiming for? Are people reading poetry right now?) As a midlife, mid-career writer, it seems like a good time to take a moment and think about the habits and goals I’ve become accustomed to since starting to write and submit in my teens. Am I trying to support myself with my writing (and if so, how do I do that better than I’m doing it now?) Am I trying to reach the right audiences? How do I determine whether I say yes or no to an assignment or request? How do I find the right publisher (because it would be nice to find the right publisher that I could stay with the rest of my writing career?) Here’s more pics from local pumpkin farms:

Harvest Supermoon

Our J. Bookwalter’s book club is reading a book that just came out in English translation (but the stories were written and published in the seventies and eighties in Japan,) Terminal Boredom by Izumi Suzuki. It made me think about Philip K. Dick’s sixties-era Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep in that it plumbs strangely prescient subject matter – population collapse vs overpopulation, teens obsessed with screens to the point of violence, and a very 2020’s kind of detachment and way of examining gender and class. It also has things in common with Yoko Ogawa, a Japanese writer I very much admire, and Osamu Dazai’s whose ironic detachment in his many books the 1930s set a standard for Japanese literature. It’s interesting to think what people in the past thought the future would be like – and how much they got right or wrong. I’ve been investigating Solarpunk over the past year, partially because I believe if you can’t imagine a better future, you won’t get one, and the relentless oppressiveness of recent dystopian writings, I’m trying to think of how to write a way to a better future for people and nature. I’m trying to be brave and face some things – like disability and chronic illness – more directly in my writing, and in doing that, to maybe make things better (?)

 

 

 

Sign at JB’s Pumpkin Farm in Woodinville

Happy Fall! October and Pumpkin Season Arrives with Earlier Dark, Supermoons…

Welcome to October! I’m writing this with blue sky outside my window, though it will soon be dark. Pumpkin Season has officially arrived—we’ve put out our October lights, and our porch is covered in a variety of pumpkins from our several local farms.

Tiny squirrel

You may have seen from last week’s post that I’d been in the hospital, and then spent a whole week sick, which has me so backed up on work and e-mails (more about this later), plus I missed going to my writing residency (which could not be rescheduled). So, boo! Not the end of the world, but a little discouraging. (More about this later.) Also, my garden has been invaded by a tiny kind of squirrel. This guy at left is barely as big as my hand, but very unafraid and digs up my planter boxes for fun.

Me at McMurtrey’s Pumpkin Farm

Nevertheless, because in October you can’t take sunshine for granted, I tried to get out on the warmer days to check on my garden and the local pumpkin farms. The flowers—sunflowers and dahlias—are still blooming as the pumpkins keep showing up in various colors and sizes. We had a lot of rain this week, reminding us we are in the rainy season, but we had some nice breaks of sunshine too.

I’m trying to get outside and do a little activity every day, but the virus made my MS act up and I’m still feeling the aftereffects. As for the residency, well, my plan was to hole up and write, but I’m trying to do some writing and submitting anyway this week.

Health Challenges and Missed Opportunities: A Story about Trying to Live a Larger Life (in a Disabled and Chronically Ill Body)

After I lost two friends this year, I made a vow to try to live a bigger life—I feared the pandemic had made me shrink not just my daily routines but my goals and dreams too, that my circles had shrunk and shrunk. The impact of that has maybe made my health a little worse—you may have noticed I’ve been struggling since August first with one thing, then another, and bam, I wound up in the hospital last week with life-threatening stuff. If I ignore my body and try to push through, I inevitably pay a price—but I said yes to maybe too much and as a result had to miss several things—readings with friends, a residency, celebrations—I had really looked forward to and had to dial down all my activities for at least two weeks. Living with MS AND a primary immune system problem AND a bleeding disorder—all things that prove challenging on their own—can be like playing a video game where, when you beat or evade one boss, you just end up downed by another you weren’t even looking for. As a result, I am reevaluating how much I say yes to, and the life goals that are really worth fighting for. Is it worth it to say yes to travel if I’m sick for weeks afterwards, or socializing if I pick up a virus every time I go in public? I don’t want to live in fear, but I also don’t want to be stupid. I am just a writer, which is not a super high-risk job, but I still have to be careful what I say yes and no to. I’m still trying to figure out a balance in the health vs everything else in my life. As we get into the wetter, colder months, or “the big dark” as they say out here, I’m going to try to dial down a bit, spend some more time reading and writing, not pushing my body quite as hard. I have already ordered pens – don’t new pens feel more necessary in fall?

The Harvest Supermoon is tomorrow night. I wish you all balance AND peace as we switch seasons.

Martha and I with pumpkin display in 2022

A Tribute to Martha Silano at the Poetry Foundation

Hello friends! I would have posted this earlier but had a bit of a health challenge and ended up in the hospital and then have been catching up on rest.

But I wrote a tribute to my long-time poet friend, Martha Silano, that went up on the Poetry Foundation web site (and was in the newsletter), and I was very happy and hope this helps people remember her and her writing. Marty passed away of ALS in May of this year. Her last book, Terminal Surreal, just came out from Acre Books. I hope you will look up her work as it is very worth reading.

Here’s a link to the article: An Oracular Voice: Remembering Martha Silano | The Poetry Foundation

And here is a sample from the article:

Sharing cocktails outdoors during 2023

The last time I saw Marty—Martha Silano—in person, it was fall during a week of wildfire smoke and we decided to visit a local sunflower farm in my neighborhood of Woodinville, Washington. We got lucky—the haze lifted for a few hours, the air quality wasn’t too terrible, and the temperatures had dropped enough for us to be comfortable outside. We met at my house for a quick catch-up chat, snacks, and wine, and I noticed that she hadn’t eaten or drunk very much. I think the beginnings of her swallowing problems—her first ALS symptom—were already happening, though she didn’t complain about a thing that day. I have a picture of us smiling among red and yellow sunflowers, the sky blue but slightly hazy above us. She told me how glad she was to be able to get out into nature again, without the pervasive wildfire smoke. Soon afterward, she was diagnosed with ALS and such outings would become impossible. I am so glad to have the memory of that day, now.”

I wish you all a healthy and happy week and be sure to find a way to tell your friends how much they mean to you.

Me with pumpkin display after Solarpunk Poetry Talk

Happy Fall! Pumpkin Patches, Solarpunk Poetry, Judging Poetry Contests

Ah, the beginning of fall. The pumpkin patches are opening, the last of our flowers blooming. This week we had a ninety-degree day and a couple of days of wildfire smoke, so we aren’t feeling that welcome fall chill just yet.

Yesterday was the Writer’s Digest Virtual Poetry Conference, so I got to see my friend Mary Biddinger’s talk on prose poetry and flash fiction in the morning, then showered, dressed and did my own talk on Solarpunk poetry, which is a type of science fiction poetry that looks to a more hopeful future for ecology, equity, and humanity. Then I turned around and ran out of the house to make it to opening day of the Woodinville Pumpkin Farm at JB Family Growers. (Yes, it’s a lavender farm AND a pumpkin farm!) The sun was shining in a blue sky, although there was still a level of smoke that made me a little verklempt. It was so nice to roam around the beautiful sunflower maze, the broad pumpkin patch, and the towering corn maze. Are you feeling Fall yet?

Sunflower maze with sun flare, JB Growers Pumpkin Farm

I really overscheduled myself this September, so yes, I am still working on judging the SFPA’s poetry contest—now I’m just writing some comments to the winners. I read over 600 poems (often not on their own page, or in the same font, so that was fun!) and chose nine winners in Dwarf, Short, and Long categories. It reminded me that often judges aren’t looking to rule you out, they’re looking to rule you in. At least that’s how I do it. When you submit a poem to any contest, make sure it’s unique and that it stands out. This year, for instance, there were a lot of both Mars Rover and dragon poems, not bad subjects, but it makes it harder for me to discern the best of the lot. A French formal poem on colonialism in space? Yes, that caught my eye. I was also surprised by an overall lack of imagery—has imagery gone out of fashion again? Anyway, the contest winners will be announced soon enough.

Anna’s hummingbird and cherry blossom

Hummingbirds and Travel Plans

In case you thought I’d lost interest in photographing birds, I have not, and here is some proof. I’m even thinking of getting a new lens for my camera (they are super expensive, so I have to wait to buy them one at a time).

I also have some travel plans—going to a writing residency on one of the San Juan Islands in a few days, so trying to get ready for that. I also was offered the amazing opportunity to stay in Paris at a friend’s apartment for five months—but five months was tricky because the visa is harder to get than a three-month visa, and Glenn wouldn’t be legally allowed to work from remote. But it was awfully tempting! It made me think—do we shrink our lives too much out of fear? What if we could be living a more adventurous, larger life?

What is stopping us? Our network of doctors, friends and family, or our comfortable routines? Our cats? I am not going to stop thinking about doing a longer-term Paris stay now that I have it in mind, maybe just for one or two months the first time instead of five. I’d love to go at Christmas, or around my birthday. Dream dream dream!

Peppers at Tonnemaker’s Farm Stand

I’m also going to my friend Catherine Broadwall’s launch of Water Spell, her fairy-tale, pop-culture memoir of divorce, on the 25th at J. Bookwalter’s winery in Woodinville, and I’ll be helping open her reading (along with poets Kristine Iredale and Erika Wright). So, consider coming out for some wine and some poetry and poetic memoir. I believe there’s an open mic too?

I’ll be working on my book manuscript on the writing residency and conjuring up some new poems. I’m bringing some reading material too, as it will probably be raining for a good deal of the trip (end of September tends to herald the beginning of the rain season, which lasts through June). I’m hoping to see whales and foxes, but I’m really going to try to concentrate on the writing part.

Wishing you all adventurous Fall plans, and an excuse to pull away, have some alone time, and write!

 

Glenn and I with gourds at Bob’s Corn and Pumpkin Farm

A Tough Week with Bright Spots: Celebrating Poets, Fall Feels and Surprise Blossoms

A good week to avoid social media. Also, I’m considering becoming a youth influencer for things like empathy, love of science, poetry, and feminism. Any podcasts hiring? (And I want to say more, but you know what? I’m not.)

Fall has finally arrived here and you can see evidence in the pictures – the time of flower blooms is waning, and the time of pumpkins is here. Glenn and I visited Bob’s Corn and Pumpkin Farm (picture evidence below) for amazing corn, apples, some cool gourds, and our first porch pumpkins. Spending time outside with blue skies and fall in the air has given me all the fall feels, though we can’t yet wear our sweaters (supposed to be in the eighties in a few days.) I’m almost done judging the SFPA poetry prize, and then I’ll be doing a live tutorial on Solarpunk poetry at the Writer’s Digest Conference on September 20th. Busy month, right?

Erika Wright, me, Catherine Broadwall

Celebrating Local Poets

The reality of life for poets can be tough, and our time together brief, so celebrating the wins of your friends is important and deserves time and space. So I got together with a few young local poets who are burning it up – Catherine Broadwall’s new memoir, Water Spell, is being launched at J. Bookwalter’s the 25th and me, Erika and Kristine Iredale will be opening for her, so come on out. That talented girl also just signed for a new poetry book with local press Girl Noise Press, so double the congrats.

Surprise: Cherry Blossoms?

In the middle of the week, I was feeling pretty heavy, so it was a good surprise to see my Rainier cherry tree break into blossom, and the little hummingbirds can not leave it alone.

I’m ready for some rejuvenation, the hope in falling leaves of new birth, the unexpected flowering.

 

 

Zinnias with wildfire smoke sun, McMurtrey’s

Wildfire Smoke, Red Moons, and Other Signs

September began with odd signs: red moons, smoke-smothered skies. Are we done with the apocalypse yet? I stayed inside the house most of the week, asthma and itchy eyes keeping me from my beloved garden. It is now said that we have three seasons instead of two in the Pacific Northwest, instead of Rain and Summer we have Rain, Summer, and Smoke. It definitely has been the case the last few years. September is usually a hopeful time for me, but it was hard to get into a better mood trapped in the house and feeling overwhelmed by the heat and heaviness of the air, not to mention the news. (Getting rid of all vaccines in Florida? That’ll be great for Americans’ health. Just kidding.) Tonight is a total lunar eclipse, a Blood Corn Moon, though we won’t see in here in North America. I can still feel the eclipses though—something about them makes me uneasy, jittery. If eclipses are a portent, what are they portending? Will it finally be something good?

Red moon, September

September 2nd was the book launch for our friend Martha Silano’s Terminal Surreal, which was online, and at which many people read Martha’s poems from the book since Marty is no longer with us. It was also Martha’s birthday. A reminder to celebrate your friends as much as you can while they are alive. I also thought about the fact that so many people talked about how much they loved Marty’s work—after she was dead. It would have been much appreciated while she was alive, I am sure. Writers rarely hear from their fans, until they are very famous, and often can’t tell if their work is reaching anyone or not. The last Best American Poetry was published that day as well, after announcing the series was ending. NEA grants and BAP going away? I don’t know if fewer accolades make for fewer readers or not. How do you find the poets and authors you love? Bookstore strolls? Reading reviews? Reading anthologies? Another thing to think about.

Kelli and I with dahlias, McMurtrey’s

Poet Friend Visits and Flower/Pumpkin Farms

In happier news, my poet friend Kelli Russell Agodon and her husband Rose came out for a visit and after brunch we made a field trip to McMurtrey’s where we saw gigantic pumpkins, tons of dahlias and sunflowers, and cut bouquets to bring home. It was nice to be outside right as the smoke started to subside, and the rain came back – which hopefully will help all the wildfires. I got to talk about poetry and enjoy fall blooms and, you know, try to do that thing where you celebrate the good things in life: friends, flowers, etc. Glenn’s credit for the photos.

McMurtrey’s Red barn, zinnias, and pumpkins

Today the air was finally clear enough to not even worry about carrying my inhaler or wearing a mask outside, and we took advantage of it by going out to another farm – Bob’s Corn and Pumpkin – and came back with a brand new batch of just-picked apples, sunflowers, and corn, as well as mustard, jam, and pickles. I also got to visit a bookstore for the first time in a long time which cheered me up as well. Just being around books makes me feel better, and seeing other people reading books. I’m such a nerd, right?

It was also cool enough to need a jacket, and that along with the pumpkin viewing put me in the right fall mood, I think. I will try to think positively, write poems, send out work, and finish the contest judging I’ve got in front of me. If the smoke and heat stay clear long enough, maybe my brain will function well enough to actually do those things. Many people with MS curse the summertime, with good reason – all that heat and sun short-fuse our systems. But fall is a season we can love, so long as it doesn’t mean everything’s on fire.

Happy September! Last Days of Lavender Gardens and Hot Air Balloons

This week was more gentle than the last few, despite some smoke and haze in the air keeping me from getting out as much as I wanted to. We visited McMurtrey Farm flower field just as a hot air balloon took off from just across the river (shot at left) among the sunflowers, and the next day we went to say our goodbyes to the local Lavender Farm (until September 20th, when it reopens as a local Pumpkin Farm!) We took home dahlias and daisies and sunflowers, enough for two bouquets and one for our neighbor. In boring homeowner news, we had our asphalt driveway repaved, which was too expensive, but I guess our HOA requires it now? I am reminded that homeownership is full of unexpected costs. But it is beautiful here. The hummingbirds are busy in the garden, as are the wasps, and baby chickadees, flickers, and Stellar’s jays. Below are some pictures from McMurtrey, which also becomes a pumpkin patch soon (and then a Christmas tree farm!)

And from the last day at JB Family Growers Lavender Farm:

Preparing for Fall, and Judging Poetry Contests

Although it’s still warm (with wildfire smoke), fall is approaching, and I’m already ready for dishes featuring delicata squash and our late-harvest corn. Getting the house ready for more visitors, I’m also trying to make space for my books (which my unread stack is now big enough for its own Ikea bookshelf) and changing up decor. My latest stack of books includes collections of ghost stories from other cultures, which should be fun. Our winery book club is reading Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier for September, a book referenced by so many of our recent club picks, it’s amazing. Were we all super spellbound by that book as teens, and now it’s creeping into our selections?

I’m also judging yet another poetry contest, this time for the SFPA. I judge contests once or twice a year, and I always wonder if people are sending their best work. I don’t send to many individual poetry contests, but I’ll tell you this—you probably have more of a shot than you think. You never know what an individual judge will like. And don’t take not winning personally. Who knows what any judge will like or dislike?

I’m also getting ready to get into poetry submission mode, as I haven’t been sending out poems much in the last few months. Too busy? Too discouraged? Feeling like poetry is maybe a waste of my time after twenty years and feeling like maybe I should switch genres? Maybe a little of each. September is a month of renewal, after all, with its shades of new pencils and new sweaters and of course, more new books. Housecleaning, closet cleanouts, and yes, taking stock of our writing and deciding where to spend our time and energy, with bouquets of dahlias and sunflowers around the house and pumpkin apple muffins in the kitchen.

Three siblings and Glenn – My brothers Chuck and Mike and me and Glenn

Parents Visit, Sibling Visit, and Getting Sick Under Stress

A few days into my visit with my parents, which I posted about last week, and after a somewhat stressful few weeks (heat, emergency dental work, a cancer scare, and family stuff)—I started to feel terrible, and sure enough, my immune system was down, and I’d caught another virus. Still, we got in one last visit to a farm—this time, Bob’s Corn and Pumpkin Farm in Snohomish—which was fun even if it was too early for pumpkins and even apples. Then the rest of the time the folks and I rested.

Then, the day the parents flew out, we had a surprise (but welcome) visit from my older brother, also from Cincinnati, who’s helping my little brother fix up his house for sale. Having three of us Hall siblings in the same place at the same time is practically like a meteor sighting it’s so rare, so I enjoyed the hang-out time, even if I was a bit under the weather the first few days of the visit. That’s the pic at the top of the post. I know I am lucky to have good relationships with my brothers, and I felt very lucky to be able to spend some time with them.

The NEA Has Decided to Terminate NEA Grants to Artist and Writers

Another piece of bad news (which has to be read through the filter of even worse news, of course) came through—people who applied for the NEA got the notice that their applications would not be read and NEA grants to writers and artists were cancelled. America just keeps getting greater, right?

I have never won an NEA grant—but it seems like another chip at the arts and academia and anyone that might not tow the party line from the Republicans. Writers and artists are notoriously not easy to control, and that’s not okay in Trump’s fascist government, as it hasn’t been with many dictators—Chairman Mao, Lenin, Hitler, Pol Pot. I had a friend post on Facebook that her lecture at an Air Force academy was cancelled after someone looked up her work online—although the people who invited her were apologetic, they were not in control. So, this government really is afraid of artists’ speech. Standing up to power has always been our job, but now there are more consequences. I posted on Facebook that Trump’s government is going to make all the talent with the means and energy to move leave the country, and someone commented that that was the point. Trump doesn’t want anyone here who dares to criticize.

Even though I’ve been fighting my health problems, I also feel like I’m fighting the anti-art forces as well, like a video game where you fight one boss, and six more appear. You know, writers and artists are already struggling to earn a living in a society that wants its art for free (or created by AI). Every little bit that’s taken away is a little bit of a chance for an artist to breathe easy, financially, for a little bit. I am struggling with how to earn a living as a writer and survive in a society that doesn’t value the sickly, or the disabled, and I am both. I mean, almost all of our writing heroes were sickly—not all, but a lot. I hope to keep writing, keep publishing, keep teaching and reading and mentoring. Maybe my body and my country throw up obstacles that sometimes feel insurmountable. As we head into a new season (though it’s still in the nineties here for some reason), I am looking for hope.

 

 

Glenn, me, my mom and dad, McMurtrey’s Flower Field

Parental Visits and End of Summer Flower Farm Visits

My mom and dad came out from Ohio to visit me and my little brother this week, so we decided to take them to some of our favorite local hangouts, including a couple of our favorite flower farms—McMurtrey Farm and JB Family Growers Lavender Farm. After a day of heavy (strange) August rain, during which we watched a Hitchcock marathon, we were able to get out and enjoy the flowers, sunshine, and fresh air (rain is good for that). It was very good to spend time with family in my favorite places. I know my parents are getting older, so I wanted to celebrate the limited time we get together.

Goldfinch talking

End of Summer Birds

At all these fields of flowers, the finches have been twittering around us in the air. The hummingbirds are dwindling in number but still busy at the flowers as well. I’ll miss their bright colors and songs when the winter comes back. Some small parts of late summer are my favorite parts. (Wasps, not so much, but the birds, absolutely, and the blueberries in my garden this year—especially sweet.)

Immature hummingbird taking a drink

This is a busy month—my older brother is coming out to visit the week after my folks leave—I am trying to look at my schedule for the fall, with readings and classes. After the health and dental dramas of the past weeks, I am ready to relax a bit, hopefully. I’m also hoping my next book gets picked up soon so I can start focusing on my next writing project, which might be quite a different creature than my previous works.

In the meantime, my friends, this seems like a rough and tumble world, but there are tiny moments of joy, beauty, kindness to be found. Sending you all hopes for tiny, good August joys.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mt Rainier with Sunflowers

Full Moons, Insomnia, End of Summer Gardens in Bloom

The lovely full Sturgeon moon of the last two nights has been my companion during a stretch of insomnia. Doctors blame either the heat/MS or my hormones, or anxiety, but heck, it could be all three!

After a week that included a painful crown and TMJ, a doctor appointment that arrived with bad news for me (and another damn cancer scare), money woes, and of course the relentless terrible news cycle, I mean, if I could sleep like a baby, maybe that would be the abnormal thing.

On the plus side, the late gardens are blooming—two of these pics are from the local Lavender Farm, JB Family Growers, but the other photos are from McMurtrey Farm, which has opened for flower gathering until they become a pumpkin farm (although I’ve seen evidence of many pumpkins already!)

By the time I write my next blog post, my parents will already have been visiting for a few days. Hopefully we’ll have cooler weather and no wildfire smoke for that week.

Writing Questions in Middle Age

I’ve also been questioning things like—should I even still be writing poetry, or is it time I give up on it and try something else? Should I spend my time doing paying work instead? It feels sort of futile to write poetry in today’s political environment—rampantly anti-academic, anti-art, anti-peace-tolerance-environmental-safety and pro guns, business and everything evil and destructive. It feels like no one is listening, even with much bigger platforms than mine. Maybe, I wonder, I should take up filmmaking. Maybe I should leave America for the adventure of exploring another country, another country, which might be more friendly to the arts (which seems like almost any country at this point). I could take up working at the local pumpkin farm (though heavy lifting would be out). I could sell makeup again. This may be a normal part of getting older. I can’t tell as I’ve never been this old before! Maybe things will make more sense when I can get more than an hour or so of sleep a night. I’ll check in with you next week.