By rights, there are several posts I should write but I don’t have the brain to do it so this post will be short takes on different topics glommed together. Sorry about that.
I am horrified by the US and Israel attack on Iran which included the assassination of many of their leaders, including the Grand Aytollah. I am also horrified by the couterattacks of Iran against many of their Middle East neighbors. None of this had to happen. In his first term, Trump walked out on a multi-country agreement that was keeping Iran from developing a nuclear weapon. If he had left it in place, there would not have been the pretense for these attacks now. I hope that Congress finds the courage to vote that this is not a valid use of presidential power; the US Constitution makes clear that only Congress has the power to declare war. Still, with the war underway, it will be difficult to stop it. I do think, though, that this constitutes grounds for impeachment. Unauthorized war certainly seems to fit the definition of a “high crime.”
If you need a brief break from the horror, you can visit my new (five-line) poem with Silver Birch Press. My blog post about it is here.
Yesterday, I got a COVID vaccine. Now that I am 65, I can choose to renew my protection more frequently. My last dose was in late August so that I had my strongest immunity for the Boiler House Poets Collective 10th anniversary residency several weeks later. Like all my other COVID vaccines, this was from Pfizer, which is fitting because B, T, and I all participated in the Phase III trial that led to its emergency authorization in the US in December, 2020. To my knowledge, T and I have never contracted COVID and I’d like to keep it that way, if I can. It is likely that I will be needing to travel to major medical centers in the coming months, so I thought it was prudent to re-up my resistance to COVID. While many people ignore the existence of COVID at this point, it is still out there infecting, sickening, and sometimes killing people, especially in the older demographic. I want to do everything I can to not be one of them, especially with so much else going on with my health.
While I can still get some reaction from the vaccine, it’s much milder than it was initially. I chose to have the shot in my right arm, which is already pretty severely affected by what appears to be thoracic outlet syndrome, so my right arm is very sore today. I’m also fatigued, but it’s hard to tell if the shot is contributing to that or not, as that has also been part of my hEDS symptoms for a couple years now.
There’s a lot more to say, but I don’t have the energy and focus to write more now. Wishing you as much peace and equanimity as you can find in the midst of all of this.
Silver Birch Press has just published my tanka, “Natives“, as part of their BUGS & INSECTS series! Many thanks to Melanie and SBP for including me in this months-long series!
I really appreciate that SBP includes author notes. Here, it’s a chance to talk a bit about native plants and pollinators.
Please feel free to comment here or on the post itself, if you are so moved. Also, you can click around and read some of the diverse work centered around bugs and insects in this series or re-visit past series. I’ve loved participating in a number of Silver Birch Press prompt series over the past several years and hope to submit to more in the future.
This was very useful because we lived in a rural setting with no houses nearby so you couldn’t go to the neighbors’ house to borrow a needed tool or recipe ingredient. The grocery store was 20 miles away so it wasn’t easy to pick up bread or milk or whatever you might have run out of, so we kept a well-stocked pantry and freezer.
Even though I live in a neighborhood now – and have for years – I still tended to keep extra supplies on hand, in order to be prepared for a change in plans or an unexpected circumstances.
Still, though, despite preparations, there are some things for which we are never quite prepared.
Recently, I’ve had some instances of re-visiting my poetry chapbook, Hearts. The poems center on my mother, especially her final years when she was living with heart failure. We knew that she was slowly dying and tried to prepare but, when the time came, it was still somewhat of a shock. I know from discussions I’ve had with others that our preparations for loss are seldom adequate.
For me, there is, though, a certain comfort in trying to prepare, even when my preparations aren’t sufficient.
They aren’t sequential or in blocks of time, though.
It’s more that they are organized topically.
For example, in my volunteer life, there are chapters around church, social justice advocacy, environmental causes, and school curriculum and committees when I was a parent.
In music, there is the church music and organ chapter, composition, and choral music, starting in high school, then Smith College both as a student and alum, decades with University Chorus at SUNY-Binghamton, and now with the Madrigal Choir of Binghamton.
In my personal life, the chapters are very long. Some as a daughter, granddaughter, and sister are life-long. Even though my parents and grandparents have all passed away, being a daughter and granddaughter is forever, as is being a sister.
Another long chapter which is ongoing is with my spouse B, who I met early in high school. We will celebrate our 44th anniversary later this year. I think that part of the reason we are who we are at this point is that we were able to grow and change together over all this time.
And then, there is my writing life, with chapters for school, what I think of as utilitarian writing like doing commentary, blogging, and poetry.
Two chapters that remain close to my heart are as a mom and, for the last 8 and a half years, a grandmother. Those chapters are the most forward-looking. I don’t think of my daughters’ and granddaughters’ stories as sequels to mine because they are their own authors but I am honored to be a chapter in their own books of life. ***** Linda’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday this week is “chapter.” Join us! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2026/02/06/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-feb-7-2026/
I had hoped to attend vigil mass yesterday afternoon but the level of dysautonomia, pain, and fatigue I was having made it inadvisable. It was cold and I didn’t think that I could handle the amount of walking and being upright involved, even if I went to a nearby church rather than my own church which is a further drive.
Instead, I participated in an online mass through Heart of the Nation. While a local station televises the mass on Sunday, I was able to access it online on Saturday. One of my favorite homilists was presiding and viewing online gives a bit more time so I got to hear more music than in the televised version.
Back during my mother’s illness, she used to watch mass on television when she could no longer attend in person and visitors from the church would bring her communion from time to time. Eventually, I was given a pyx so that I could bring the Eucharist to her myself. It is mentioned in this poem, first published by Wilderness House Literary Review:
In my purse
cheap pens I won’t miss if they’re lost my wallet, heavy with too many coins ibuprofen for headaches a pack of tissues hair ties for windy days a dog-eared calendar my license to drive a crumpled shopping list emergency cough drops a pyx my favorite mechanical pencil, extra lead credit cards – insurance cards – loyalty cards a laminated prayer card from my mother’s funeral
One of the blessings of the pandemic shutdowns for me was the re-discovery of online or televised mass when I couldn’t attend in person. It’s comforting to have that alternative on weekends like this one.
I started Top of JC’s Mind in September, 2013, and, sometimes, I like to take another look at some of my older posts.
It’s an eclectic blog with lots of topics and you could rummage around in old posts, too, if you like.
Sometimes, I am looking back for specific topics or events. There are also threads that weave in and out over time.
For example, I wrote a lot of comments on the eventually successful campaign to keep shale gas fracking out of New York – which had a brief, ugly reprise in the more recent effort to add CO2 fracking to our state ban. There are also renewable energy posts, including posts on heat pumps, solar panels, and EVs. We are proud to be an electrified household powered by the sun!
There are poetry posts, including posts from my residencies with the Boiler House Poets Collective at the Studios at MASS MoCA which began in fall 2015.
I’ve written quite a lot of COVID/pandemic posts. I’m humbled that one of the local historical societies has been printing those posts to place in their archives for possible research in the future.
The most poignant posts for me are the ones that involve my family. I wrote about my parents in their final years. Those posts were helpful to me at the time as a way to process what was going on but are also good to look back on from time to time.
While I’m admittedly not a great photographer, I’ve tried to include some photos. It’s handy that, during the years of Top of JC’s Mind, we have had family living in Hawai’i, and later, London. Even an amateur can take decent photos in those settings. I also like to take photos in the western Massachusetts/Southern Vermont area where I lived as a child and teen.
So, I invite you to take another look at Top of JC’s Mind.
murdered poet gifts words crowds magnify Renee’s voice radiates Good
Sharing again the haiku I posted Monday about Renee Nicole Good, whose death at the hands of an ICE agent in Minneapolis has horrified millions in the United States and around the world.
murdered poet gifts words crowds magnify Renee’s voice radiates Good
After finding out the day after her murder that Renee Nicole Good was a poet, I woke up Friday morning with the idea for this haiku in my head. I worked on it and sent it to the nearly-impossible-to-make-the-cut Rattle Poets Respond, which requires submissions by Friday midnight that relate to news from the last week and were written in that time.
After the anticipated rejection arrived, I pondered whether to try another venue or publish it here. I had the rare opportunity to meet with the Grapevine Poets yesterday and decided that I should share it here so it would be available in a timely manner.
I used to meet with the Grapevine Poets for early-evening workshopping every other week but haven’t been able to for most of the last two years due to my health situation. Yesterday, we had an afternoon craft discussion, which I could manage because I could muster enough energy and brain power at that time of day.
During this time of health struggles, I haven’t been able to write poetry very often, so I’ve seized this opportunity. I like writing haiku and tanka and those forms hold the additional appeal of being very short, which matches my limited energy and ability to focus. I haven’t shown this to anyone so this is just coming from my own head and heart.
A feature of this haiku is that I chose to forgo punctuation and capitalization, other than Renee’s name. This gives the opportunity to read the lines with pauses in different places, which places emphasis on different words. It also makes this haiku particularly dense. I’m not sure if this works for other readers or not, but I would appreciate any comments that anyone might like to share.
Photo caption: Carol Mikoda reading from Outside of Time at the North Adams Public Library (photo by Mary Beth Hines)
When Kelsay Books published Carol Mikoda’s Outside of Time in October, she celebrated with a reading at the North Adams Public Library. Carol was in residence at the Studios at MASS MoCA (Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art) as a member of the Boiler House Poets Collective. Participating in the reading marking the tenth anniversary of the Boiler House Poets were fellow Kelsay authors Joanne Corey (Hearts), Jessica Dubay (All Those Years Underwater), and Mary Beth Hines (Winter at a Summer House), along with Merrill Oliver Douglas, Judith Hoyer, Kyle Laws, Deborah Marshall, Eva Schegulla, and Wendy Stewart.
You can read and hear more of Carol Mikoda’s work on her Substack, The Yellow Table.
When I wrote this post on the Boiler House Poets Collective‘s tenth anniversary reading (and my birthday), I fully intended to post another couple of times during the residency, but that didn’t work out, so this is my catch-up attempt to encapsulate the rest of the residency.
Sunday was a busy day. Leery of being in an enclosed space with lots of people for over an hour, I opted for online mass. I got the above-linked blog post out and worked on an alternate bio poem modeled after one Judy Hoyer had brought to a BHPC workshop session earlier in the residency. Instead of eating with the other poets at 1:00 – daily lunches are part of our residency package – I took my lunch down the block to Main St. to await the arrival of the Fall Foliage parade. Because it was bizarrely hot (mid-80s F./29 C), I decided to wear the T-shirt that daughter T had given me for my birthday which says “This heat wave was brought to you by Big Oil.” I found a place in the shade and ate my lunch, enjoying watching the crowd, especially the little ones, as we waited for the parade to reach us.
I had read a poem at the reading the day before contrasting the full-scale parades of the my childhood in the ’60s and ’70s with the very subdued parade of 2016 where there were very few spectators and almost no children, either watching or participating. I’m happy to report that the 2025 parade was much more vibrant, with more community groups represented, including a lot of youth groups, such as Scouts, dance troupes, and sports/cheer teams. I admit that the high school bands are still at least 50% smaller than when I was a student at Drury in the ’70s, but they may grow as these younger children reach high school in a few years. I did feel sorry for the bands in their wool uniforms and the uniformed fire fighters marching in that heat, while the spectators were wearing shorts and tees. I appreciate the revived community spirit and later had a conversation with a BHPC member who lives in North Adams about recent gains in bringing together the people who have lived in the area for generations and the more recent arrivals drawn by MASS MoCA (Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art) and the growing arts scene. I hope that spirit will continue to strengthen and make North Adams stronger for all the residents.
Later in the afternoon, we workshopped. I brought the alternate bio poem and was shocked that people enjoyed it. By nature, that kind of poem is more light-hearted than my usual work and I am not known for being witty or humorous, so I was happy I managed to pull it off. After that, we walked to dinner and then back to our apartment for evening conversation.
It turned out to be more than I should have attempted, especially with the hot weather and the busy day on Saturday. I had to scale back on my activity level for our final two days.
There were some highlights, though. I had a delicious breakfast on Monday morning with Cousin S at Renee’s Diner. Monday evening, we ate at Grazie in their new location. Most of BHPC’s welcome dinners on the first evening of residency had been held at Grazie when it was located on the ground floor of the apartment building we call home during our time in North Adams. We definitely wanted to visit their new home, which is larger and has a parking lot! After dinner, we had our planning meeting for next year and I was thrilled to know that all ten of us want to return in October, 2026. Exact dates still need to be scheduled by The Studios but it’s nice to know that we don’t have to do any recruiting over the winter.
A highlight of Tuesday was a morning concert that BHPC member Carol Mikoda offered during storytime at the North Adams Public Library. It was in the same room where we had given our reading, except with a colorful mat on the floor, perfect for all the bouncing, dancing, and crawling the little ones did in reaction to Carol’s singing, accompanied by her guitar. Many of the songs were original compositions and the adults present enjoyed her clever lyrics. Carol had another momentous event occur during the residency. Her newest book, Outside of Time, was released by Kelsay Books. Congratulations, Carol!
BHPC workshopping in bldg 34
Photo credit: Carolina Porras Monroy
Carolina Porras Mornoy, the new director of The Studios at MASS MoCA which hosts our residencies, took some photos of us in our beloved Boiler House at the museum and while we were workshopping. There will be an Instagram post coming next week featuring the Boiler House Poets Collective. The Studios are celebrating their tenth anniversary this month so it is especially fitting to have the tenth anniversary of the Boiler House Poets Collective as part of their observance. BHPC formed at the very first poetry workshop-in-residence that The Studios hosted in fall of 2015, facilitated by Jeffrey Levine of Tupelo Press. The poets hit it off so well that, even before that week finished, we were hatching plans to return, which we have done every year since.
I am the only “original” to make all the reunions so far. In 2020, when The Studios were closed for an extended period due to the pandemic, I took the opportunity to return to North Adams for a private writing retreat. You can read about that experience by checking out my August 2020 blog archive. MASS MoCA had re-opened by then with COVID protocols in place so I was able to spend time writing about the art there, while also visiting familiar places in the surrounding towns.
I am so grateful to the Boiler House Poets Collective, The Studios at MASS MoCA, the Museum itself, and the city of North Adams for ten years of welcome, sharing, and great experiences. Here’s to the next ten years – and beyond!
BHPC ’25 in the Boiler House at MASS MoCA
photo credit: Carolina Porras Monroy
