Starting Wed., May 25, the Pieces Vignettes will be housed at Manzanita Arts Emporium until the end of June. These are transformed relics rescued after the Butte Fire ravaged homes and property last Sept. 10, 2015. The pieces in the vignettes were too large to use as mosaic pieces, which Robin Modlin and Anne Cook are preparing for the Butte Fire memorial wall on Sat. Sept. 10, 2016 in Mountain Ranch, CA.  So Anne and Robin arranged them in scenes, and several writers affiliated with Manzanita Writers Press wrote poems and prose to accompany the set pieces. The following writers crafted several works for the project:  Nitya Prema, Gayle Lorraine, Suzanne Murphy, Monika Rose, Ann Cook, Robin Modlin, Blanche Abrams, Denella Kimura, Linda Toren, and Cynthia Restivo.

Looking for a great gift idea? Send someone you care about an eBook of poems for their Kindle or laptop/desktop computer!  GlenHill Publishing presents River by the Glass as an Amazon Select eBook, with full color photography of river scenes by Ron Pickup and a lifetime collection of poetry by Monika Rose!  River by the Glass on Amazon    Only $2.99 as a download for the holidays! 

 If you’d like a print edition, then you can order from

Monika’s web site,          River by the Glass at monikarosewriter.com  or from

Small Press Distribution!   River by the Glass at spdbooks.org

River by the Glass is available as an eBook at Amazon! If you’d like a copy for $2.99 for your Kindle, then please go HERE and purchase one! Support your local poet!

 Puppy Love ~

What is it about these innocent, cuddly creatures that stimulates the enzymes and produces heart throbs in us as caregivers? Their total absorption in you as a being? Their dependence on your care for their very existence?  Their unconditional love and acceptance of you regardless of your faults? All of these and more.  When I meet her nose to nose, we are surprised at how much we think alike.

Gretchen, the Golden Retriever, brings it all back home. Having had three children, I can feel those tender feelings keep bubbling back up through spending quality time with these remarkable beings.  Had I not had children, I would still feel the heart-expanding devotion to these lovely personalities.  Gretchen, the newest addition to our pack of three, only 12 weeks old as of this writing, knits the pack together and brings the other two older Golden boys to their knees in adoration. They protect her, mollycoddle her, groom her, and take turns putting her in her place as needed.

I will be recording a few adventures we have had and share Gretchen’s forays into our lives. She nudges us into feeling again. With busy lives, we forget to stop and breathe. She forces us to focus on her life and ours, so close to the ground, so close to what crawls and squeaks and burrows beneath the surface.  She demands that we pay attention to the world around us. Yesterday, she brought us a present–a nice poison oak branch. I itch to tell you more.  Last week, we discovered she enjoys eating foxtails from her “brother’s” back legs to help groom him.  This is not a good thing, and we’re breaking her of it. But I can understand her compassion.

When I put my head down and rub against her cheek and floppy ears, like her mama would, pretending to wash her, but keeping my tongue inside my mouth, thank you very much, she responds in little cooey grunts and stretches her neck for more. You can feel the love electric bound across the skin and through us, communicating in ways that humans should practice. Innocent touch. Softness beyond conscious comprehension. Psychologically, soothing and stimulating. But there’s more to it than that. It’s a very primal kind of communication. Thank goodness we don’t speak. It would break the moment.

More adventures with Gretchen to come! Stay tuned!

August 11, 2012 ~ Remember the fox tail grooming habit I told you about earlier? A visit to the vet for foxtail removal from Gretchen’s ear and from her little nose cavity resulted. How did we detect it? She couldn’t stop sneezing. She had to be sedated, poor baby.

We can’t vacuum the universe, but it helped to hose down the entire area and cement patio as well as the decks.  Next year, we are going to eliminate them from a 100-ft radius, at least, planting a sturdy grass so that the scourge can be eliminated.  It’s a California native plant, the foxtail is…I’m not proud to claim it. The other scourge is the burr.

Gretchen has grown by leaps and bounds to about 30 pounds. She lopes with her ears flapping, and has learned how to sit for treats. She steals our shoes from the closet and any socks that might be available. When you ask her for it, she gives it back, unlike the boys who look at you as if you’re crazy when you ask for their toy back. What, me? Give up my favorite object covered in dog slime?

More later!

Book signing at the Arts Bash this coming Saturday, Oct. 12! Will post some pics soon.

Tuolumne Meadows Poetry Festival and Workshops: August 17-18, 2013

Another trek up to Tuolumne Meadows for the Poetry Festival, in August, right before the Rim Fire ignited and took its toll up in Yosemite country.  This time, David Mas Masumoto charmed everyone with his luscious peach samples and peachy wisdom in words, and Mark Doty brought tears of laughter and heartfelt sadness to our eyes…sometimes at the exact same moment. Jane Hirshfield gave us all the gift of her poems. Then, Jay Deming with his poetry workshops and exercises walked the walk as his poems moved metaphors around like rollicking boulders. Kira Shammen mesmerized us all with her violin/fiddle/wood-stringed-thing that turned into a magical being. And then there was Margaret who knits it all together, host and organizer, self-effacing and shy, but what a powerhouse under that lithe demeanor!

As we left the park and headed back down to the foothills, we saw the Rim Fire to our right on Hwy 120. I said to Roberta, we didn’t see that coming up, did we? It looked unattended burning in a canyon not too far from Cherry Road, no planes, no fire tenders, no men in yellow suits doing battle…nada. I wondered, where are the planes? Even a spotter? Nothing. It was about 4:30. Still early enough to send out the tankers. Sadly, it was the “let it burn” mentality governed by some US Forest Service official who got the thumbs up to let the monster go. I know all the arguments. I am still in favor of sensible management — a combo of small fires and managed conservation with logging and timber personnel allowed in to excavate safely and extract needed fuel for biofuels, for lumber, and other forest products.

What about the red-legged or yellow-legged frogs, huh? Just two weeks before a Calaveras Enterprise front page touted the dangers of the extinction of these little guys up in Yosemite land. The fires took care of them. No need to fight the ranchers and developers and timber concerns about the little critters anymore as they were pulverized by infernos. Maybe the spotted owls could get out, or the woodpecker, the bears and the deer that everyone worried about — they can outfly or outrun the flames. But not those little frogs. No one is talking about that now. It’s very quiet out there when it comes to the frogs.

Never mind that cattle were lost, burned, and otherwise traumatized by the event. These animals keep the brush down naturally.

Sure, in about two hundred years some of the trees will come back to that height. But in the meantime, no. Gone from view.Ditto the habitat that went with it, providing a home for many animals, insects and plants in the ecosystem, including humans.

That beauty could have remained and the undergrowth could been cleared and utilized for much-needed wood products and biofuel, with people put to work to boot with some management plans in place. And don’t blame the sequester cuts. Puh-lease.

Tuolumne Meadows Poetry Festival 2012

A few of us die-hard poets and nature lovers trekked up to Parsons Meadow Lodge festivities, arising early, packing the car, and meeting at 6 AM for the drive up the mountain.  We arrived just in time for some of Camille Dungy’s workshop exercises by the Tuolumne River, with the rushing sound of the water behind us helping with the flow. Then a brief lunch, with shared items from Gail’s lunch and our own snacks added in, and then a commune with the river and quiet time to write, walk, take photos, and simply enjoy the environs. The Unicorn mountain behind us, and the back side of Cathedral Peak in another direction, we were in good company.

The featured writers–Mike Burwell, F. Daniel Rzicznek, Margaret Eissler(organizer), and Camille Dungy–filled the lodge with good words,  from 1:00-2:30, and set the rest of the day ticking – good poems to feed on– and Shira Kammen’s music once again sublime.  The afternoon included a walk, a supper near the trail directly in the meadow, with a view of blue ponds formed from river rivulets and tributaries, and four poetesses speaking music amid the unwrapping of the shared dishes for the feast.

The evening approached, with the open mic luring the campers and poets back in to the lodge, its stone walls holding us in an embrace.  With hot coffee and camaraderie, humor, poetry, storytelling, and music, it was the perfect campfire without the pit. We were the community of humanity, sharing voice and sound that reverberated long after the event ended. 

We had forgotten flashlights, so the journey back would have resulted in some injuries down those rocky trails had not a poetry couple given us that hat headlamp to light our way back to the vehicle.  We survived. Next time, we vowed, we would rent a tent cabin at Wolf or somewhere nearby, or at least a campsite, and sleep there, catching the next morning’s workshop as well and staying there, luxuriating in all that greenery and river water. And next time, we would all bring a flashlight.

Poems are coming out of that adventure.

My recent poetry reading from River by the Glass at Black Sheep Winery was an intimate, lovely setting. It was quiet, moisturey cool under the trees despite the 98-degree day, and with good friends in the audience, as well as new friends made, it was a delightful afternoon that flew by in the pleasure of fine wine and word-tasting.  We had the Chardonnay and the award-winning Zinfandel, and we had the pleasure of a good discussion about the nuances of words and the insights behind poetry. I read the first poem, “Drowning at the Kern” and a few other river poems to celebrate water and moisture, that parching day.  A few light-hearted poems contrasted to the sadness of that first poem – and I think we were all satiated by the end of the afternoon. It was a delight to have all these wonderful people there, talking about poems, about life, about relationships, and about what really matters in the hubbub of our days.

Ironstone Reading August 13 was a wonderful gathering of some of the finest poets in our region!

Joy Roberts, MWP business manager, who keeps the press connected and well-oiled and ready for business! She’s also one of the hottest editors in our region. If  you need your book edited, manuscript prepared for publication, she is the one who will set you straight.  Also, she’s a good friend and has a good shoulder for crying on, if needed. Every poet needs a good shoulder and good friends.  Here she is at the Ironstone Vineyards reading.

Ironstone Vineyards ~ Moonstruck with Manzanita Aug. 13, 2012 was a wonderful gathering! Many talented poets read to the rhythms of bassist David Sackman throbbing in the background.  It was warm that day — but the Heritage Room was so lovely and cool — the day was delightful!  Jeannette Clough (Island, Red Hen Press) came all the way from LA to be with us–outstanding poet, along with others who traveled a distance — Sande Trizise, Brigit Truex, Zoe Keithley, from Sacramento, Kevin Arnold (from San Jose Poetry Center, President), Mr. Clewett from Elk Grove, and more from several counties came out to enjoy the poets and their fine words.

Brigit Truex reads from her chapbook at Ironstone

This is Linda Field, Manzanita Voices radio show designer and host.  She is also a very good friend!  Linda has a novel she is writing, working its way through to the surface, one chapter at a time.  Be watching for it!  Her New York roots meet Mother Lode sister land and conjoin in this novel.  Can’t wait to see it in print at Barnes and Noble!  writers@kvgcradio.com

Kathy Isaac-Luke reads from Chrysalides 

Two writers, Goldpanning at Roaring Camp

Bret Harte should have written about these two gold diggers. Little did they know that their dreams for riches, trickled down to mere flakes and flashes in the pans.  Not referring to the ladies, mind you, but the laden pans. Next morning, they might just as well be  frying up a couple of golden trout in the other kinds of pans.

Moonstruck with Manzanita at Ironstone Vineyards was lovely August 13!

Manzanita Writers Press editors want to thank everyone for their great poetry and prose read at Ironstone yesterday for the Moonstruck with Manzanita literary festival. Also, we’d like to thank the public and lovers of literature for coming up and enjoying the event. We had a wonderful time sharing poetry and prose and music with visitors, the public, and other writers up at Ironstone Vineyards yesterday – Sat. Aug. 13.   David Sackman played rhythmic bass loops that throbbed behind the fabric of the spoken word. Jim Lanier  played some great tunes and sang our favorites, and then read a short story from his ebook collection.

The newspapers did a wonderful job of promoting the event and despite getting off to a slow start (writers aren’t usually morning persons, are they?), and waiting a long time to get a bite to eat due to the high numbers of people packed into the lunchroom between noon and one, we had a nice time. 

Manzanita writers

We read, with breaks, from 11:30 until 5 PM. There were fantastic writers from Sacramento, Stockton, Sonora, Yosemite, and Elk Grove – as well as our talented local poets and writers from Amador and Calaveras. One of the Manzanita featured poets came from Santa Monica, trekking all this way to enjoy our beautiful area – Jeannette Clough!  Dan Williams came up from Wawona to read from his upcoming collection of work that reflected his experience as a Yosemite park ranger, and then had to leave to get back and help support fighting the fires up at Yosemite. Anne Molin had to stay up there for support, so we missed her poetry, but Dan read one of her poems, so that helped.  We also missed hearing Ron Pickup, GlenHill Publications, publisher of Monika Rose’s River by the Glass as he was ill and couldn’t make it. We are looking forward to seeing his great river photos that grace the covers and the interior pages of the book, at a future event!  Thanks Red Fox Underground poets represented by Brigit Truex, all the way from Placerville…loved your poetry once again. Can’t get enough. Linda Field, Manzanita Writers Press editor and radio host,  read a poem about the Stock Market, called Dead Cat Bounce. You had to be there, is all I can say. And when Linda read the poem Unwrapped, written by another  anonymous writer in our midst who was too shy to reveal that she was the originator of that lovely, sensuous poem about chocolate and love, it was just luscious.  Again, you had to be there.

Monika Rose and Kathy Boyd Fellure - Manzanita editors

Thanks to more of the poets and writers who shared their work, like our own Manzanita distribution editor Kathy Boyd Fellure, Pam Mundale, Kathie Isaac-Luke, from Sonora, as well as Kevin Arnold, president of the San Jose Poetry Center — who drove hours to get there! and our own Dave Self, Mitz Sackman, Zoe Keithley from Sacramento, John Clewett,  Scott Anderson (our wonderful Lode Star Columnist representing the Lode Star team of writers, editors, and columnists), Donald Anderson and Nikki Quizmondo from Stockton, our own Sande Tresize from Sacramento,  our own Ted Laskin, Jeannette Clough all the way from Santa Monica–love her poetry!, Nan Mahon from Sacramento, Durlyn Anema from Stockton, and more…

The writers had their books displayed beautifully and were there to sign books at breaks.

The lunch was wonderful, once we were able to get it, and Ironstone prepares some great luncheon specials. The wine going with it –? perfect. I had a chardonnay. It went with my Caesar salad with turkey perfectly! I couldn’t eat it all — the portions are huge! 

Dinner at Murphys Hotel

Some of us kept the party going at Murphys Hotel afterwards. If you  want some great prime rib, go up there on Saturday night and enjoy!  A few ordered medium rare and the hotel prepares it on the red side, so when the writers were a bit dismayed at the rarity, Brian quickly remedied their trepidation and whisked the plates back to the kitchen for a further searing, and the laden trays returned like magic, PERFECT! Anyway, they aim to please over there.  Not to mention, dashing service and chivalry.

Monika ordered an appetizer of grilled gator and passed the plate around after cutting it into bite-sized chomps and bits. Surprisingly, most of the pieces clung to the plate when it came back around to her. She and Joy dug in … undeterred by the apparent trepidation. More for them to enjoy!

As Monika was diligently sawing away, a conversation erupted when someone brought up Monika’s poem, Chester and the Bluebird. You know, the one that starts out with Chester near the barbecue, and then his ending up on the barbecue. Anyway, Linda was nonplussed. It’s not her favorite poem and she cringes when it’s read. Monika was not to be put off, giving a few more details from the poem.  Cutting up the alligator, and commenting that it must have had a lot of space to run around (remarking on its texture), reminded Monika about Chester’s propensity to wander off and how tough he was.  She remarked, as she was cutting the gator, that she remembered something her son had said as he was cutting up Chester on the plate.  He had reminisced about chasing that bull calf many an acre after breaking out of fences,  and he addressed the steak, as he hacked  away, “You’re not getting away this time!” 

Groans were heard around the Murphys Hotel restaurant table.  Linda was ready to pick up her knife and hack away at Monika’s arm, next to hers in close proximity–most likely, in retaliation. You have to understand, though. Linda loves animals and abhors abuse or mistreatment of animals.  Monika totally understood the origin of her friend’s distaste for that poem.  She couldn’t stop herself, though. She tried to redeem herself by noting the spirituality in that poem. The bluebird lands on the hand just as she laid that Chester steak down on the grill. The bird takes a look at the meat, sizzling on the grill, looks at her, then takes off. That was the softest sensation she ever felt. Put her at ease.  Monika hoped that part of the story would smooth LInda’s ruffled feathers a bit. She’s still talking to Monika, anyway, so it’s a good sign. Next time a calving is happening, Monika promises to call Linda so she can come on over and watch. Life coming in is far more exciting than the leavings.

On a lighter note, many of us tried the Hatcher Cabernet and had a second glass, it was so good. One fine wine, that. Monika said it was “chasmic,” so go figure–a poet describing red wine should be on call by the winery ad writers. Jeannette said it rolled around the tongue and you could feel the bite all around on all sides. Excellent! You know writers and their literary layering of descriptors.

Anyway, it was a wonderful evening. So much fun to be had with a fun table of writers…Getty had to hold his own with all the women. Not difficult as he is our charming gentleman writer friend. Zoe, Sande, and Shirley trekked from Sacramento and stayed longer to enjoy the meal.  Then Monika was off to the celebration of the full moon with Gary and friends as it rose over the hills, so lovely and elegant. First, cosmic and low, in its largesse, then as it rose higher, put into perspective!  Like a mirror held at arm’s length. Sensible and safe.  Go to it, Moon.

Thanks to everyone for reading to the end.

Signing off!

Monika