• Family and Friends

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Summer and the Greenhouse Moon

    Shabbat gratefuls: Shabbat. Ruth and Gabe. Alan. Shadow. Golden Stix. Nathan. The Greenhouse. Gladiolas. Lilies. Hot weather. Above 60 all night. Gabe reading. Ruth driving. Alan going to New York to see Francesca. Joanne. Ginny and Janice. Annie and Luna. Coming to visit. Back and leg pain. Labrum tear. Artificial tears. Jim Butcher. Marrow Bones. Wildflowers.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Talking to Ruth and Gabe

    Week Kavannah:  Roeh et hanalod. Foresight. Knowing what will be needed in the future.

    One brief shining: Ruth and Gabe lounged on the lower level while we spoke of family things, matters of consequence and difficulty, from the lens of old age, a college sophomore, and a high school senior, being with each other as listener, as witness, as grandfather and grandchildren, while Shadow moved among us giving out kisses and attention, her way of saying, yes, I hear you, too.

     

    Family and Friends: Met Alan at the Dandelion for breakfast. The waitress knows us, smiles when we come in.

    French toast and bacon for me. Corned beef hash and eggs for Alan. Speaking of travel, bones unhappy and bones made happier, brothers and sisters, friend stuff. We are easy in each others company, knowledgeable about each others past.

    Alan and Cheri moved to a Denver downtown condo three years ago. Great move for them. They live within walking distance of the Denver Art Museum, the Colorado History Museum, the Denver Library, the State Capitol, the Courthouses. The Denver Center for Performing Arts sits right across the street where they attend ballet and theater.

    No house maintenance. No threat of wildfire or home insurance problems. Lots of restaurants nearby. A good spot for urban living.

    I prefer, still, the Arapaho National Forest, Wild Neighbors, Shadow Mountain, room to have a greenhouse. Might I change? I suppose. But not anytime soon. Too much artifice, too busy, too noisy, too little green in Denver for me.

    I came home, took a short nap and greeted Ruth and Gabe who drove from Boulder to see me. Our visits always have depth, fun. Laughing and intense conversations.

    Ruth told stories of her trip to Korea. How amazing it was to be a minority. To immerse herself in a culture other than her own.

    She learned hangul, she said. The Korean alphabet. She could read words, but had no idea what they meant. Her Mandarin approaches fluency so Asian languages are not (ha) foreign to her.

    She wants to do a summer abroad there next summer. I hope it works out for her.

    Gabe has begun to read. That is, books of his choosing. He went into the loft, got Peter Pan, Night by Eli Weisel, Steppenwolf by Herman Hesse, and I,Robot. The books I give to him with one rule. If you take them, you read them.

    Lunch at Golden Stix. A rejuvenated Chinese restaurant in Aspen Park.

     

    Just a damned moment!  In closing I offer the first two paragraphs of this NYT article: A White Nationalist Wrote a Law School Paper Promoting Racist Views. It Won Him an Award. I give it the OMG award.

    “Preston Damsky is a law student at the University of Florida. He is also a white nationalist and antisemite. Last fall, he took a seminar taught by a federal judge on “originalism,” the legal theory favored by many conservatives that seeks to interpret the Constitution based on its meaning when it was adopted.

    In his capstone paper for the class, Mr. Damsky argued that the framers had intended for the phrase “We the People,” in the Constitution’s preamble, to refer exclusively to white people. From there, he argued for the removal of voting rights protections for nonwhites, and for the issuance of shoot-to-kill orders against “criminal infiltrators at the border.””


    📂This entry was posted in Denver Family Fourth Phase Friends Korea Politics Travel

  • Feel the Fire in your Bones

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Summer and the Greenhouse Moon

    Friday gratefuls: Luke and Leo. Laundry. Shadow and Leo. Buddies. Warm Night. AI. Chatgpt. Images. Mussar. Diane. Her book club and cherry chutney. The Greenhouse, Nathan’s careful work. Scott. His pollinator Garden. My son. Moving. Seoah. Murdoch. Ruth and Gabe coming up today.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Luke’s many talents

    Week Kavannah: Bitachon. Confidence.  “A feeling of self-assurance arising from one’s appreciation of one’s abilities or qualities.”

    One brief shining: Piece by piece the greenhouse comes together, two Koi on the door, deep raised beds on the sides, a raised bed inside it, shelving for pots and space to work along both inside walls, the clear insulating sheets going in place to let in Great Sol and retain the warmth.

     

    Summer Solstice: For those of you new to Ancientrails, this is the day I celebrate not only the victory of light on the longest day, but also the ascendancy of the night which starts tonight, continuing night by night until the Winter Solstice. We need the warmth of Great Sol for our plant allies to grow and we need the darkness and Lesser Light illumination of the night for our soul’s growth. The yang and the yin of seasonal change.

    In Nordic and Scottish lands the Summer Solstice, much like Beltane, finds bonfires blazing, naked bodies dancing to the drums and pipes. Never got the chance to participate, perhaps next incarnation.

    Stop a moment today. Feel the heat of Great Sol. Let the Sun enlighten you, fuel the dreams and work of your heart. An active time, a time to push forth into the world with the best, the strongest parts of your Self.

    Choose, if you can, to feel fire in your bones, energy surging from feet to head like the sacred flow of energy from the crown of the Tree of Life to Malkhut, this tangible world, and back up again toward the ayn sof. Your body and soul, unique and irreplaceable, yet also one with the other, all others. The true and important secret not hidden from us except when we slip into routine, into habitual ways of knowing.

    As I wrote yesterday: Celebrate, celebrate. Dance to the music.

     

    Dog journal: Luke and Leo came over yesterday. Shadow greeted Leo. A nip here, a play bow there. Leo, a large and older Dog took his time to respond. He played a bit with her before lying down on the cool tile for a gentleman’s rest.

    Meanwhile Shadow put her paws on the other chair down here, and licked Luke’s face. She takes others visiting with enthusiasm. Ginny and Janice come over on Sunday afternoon with Annie and Luna. More fun for Shadow.

    Right now Shadow has the severed tail of a stuffed Skunk toy in her mouth flailing it from side to side while she rolls on her back. A puppy.

     

    Just a moment: Well, red tie guy has proved more thoughtful than I imagined. Diane offered a reason. The isolationist wing of the MAGA movement having its say. Could be.


    📂This entry was posted in Dogs Great Wheel Greenhouse Holidays Paganism Politics

  • Celebrate

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane (last day) and the Greenhouse Moon

    Thursday gratefuls: Paul. Tom. Diane. Luke and Leo. Marilyn and Irv. Ginny and Janice. Annie and Luna. Panentheism. The Bird of dawn. Set people free. Make firm a person’s steps. The Shema. Rabbi Jamie. Rich. Tara and Eleanor. Ruby covered in Lodgepole Pollen. Yellow everywhere. Great Sol. A slow unmasking. The vastness of space. The cosmic void.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Koi on the greenhouse door.

    Week Kavannah: Bitachon. Confidence.  “A feeling of self-assurance arising from one’s appreciation of one’s abilities or qualities.”

    One brief shining: Long ago in the history of evolution Lodgepole Pines developed a simple method of spreading Pollen from male Cones to female cones, blanket the air with yellow sperm, bound to hit a female cone with the aid of Mountain Winds; those of us who live in Lodgepole forests get to share in this sexual ritual each June. Right now.

     

    Irony: The teflon Don (thanks, Mark) put his hand on the Bible and swore his oath on Martin Luther King Day. Now he considers whether to bomb Iran into the Stone Age on Juneteenth. The power of holidays.

    No matter the resident of the Whitehouse these two holidays give all Americans a chance to reflect on our actual history, not the whitewashed, fact unburdened history the right wants taught in schools.

    I didn’t know what Juneteenth was until it became a national holiday. Oh, I’d learned about it at some point, sure, but the details? No.

    In case you don’t know the history well either here’s Heather Cox Richardson’s explainer published today on her Substack, Letters From an American.

    I found her writing on the 13th and 14th amendments to the constitution especially helpful since the racist U.S. government has begun a full assault on many of their provisions. Birthright citizenship. Equality under the law. Federal level enforcement in all states.

    Celebrate, celebrate. Dance to the music. And never forget.

     

    Greenhouse: Nathan got back to work yesterday. The side insulating panels went on, as did metal Koi on the door, a special Japanese touch he added for me. Today he’ll work on the outside raised beds.

    He told me he wasn’t one to dwell, that he preferred working, doing something after a shock like Takota’s death. My son has the same attitude.

    I honor their intent while knowing grief will not be bound by choice or will. Grief works in its own way, on its own schedule, doing its work of reconciling absence with continued existence. Never, never easy.

     

    Dog journal: Shadow now comes inside, lets me close the back door when it’s cooler outside without attempting to dive back out.

    She routinely joins me in the bed sometime during the night. Her jumping up to be noticed has gotten softer, less frenetic so my skin has begun to heal.

    The house and all its stairs pose no barrier for her. She roams at will inside and out. A curious doggy. A difficult journey for both of us, not over, no, yet so so much better.


    📂This entry was posted in Commentary on the news Dogs Greenhouse Politics Seed Keepers US History

  • IMHO

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

    Wednesday gratefuls: Tom. Paul. Shadow, early riser. Halle, the teacher. Back pain and leg pain better. The Jangs. Coming to America. Morning service. Morning darkness. Great Sol waiting to be revealed yet again. Heat returning. Along with Wildfire risk. Ginny and Janice, Annie and Luna.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The 25 brightest Stars of the night Sky.

    Week Kavannah: Bitachon. Confidence.  “A feeling of self-assurance arising from one’s appreciation of one’s abilities or qualities.”

    One brief shining: Stopped again at Taco Yazi’s, the new place cohabiting with the Wicked Whisk Bakery, this time for a tortas, or the beautiful mess, a sandwich with lots of vegetables and meat and a drippy sauce, a meal before my next delivery from Cookunity.

     

    Dog journal: Colorado has a distinctive culture around Dogs. Many restaurants have Dog friendly dining spots, will even bring out bowls of water, maybe a treat.

    If a Dog escapes their yard up here in the Mountains, folks take them in if found, post notice on Next Door, or take them to a vet to read the chip. If the Dog won’t come, we post photos.

    When a Dog is in crisis, like Takota, it’s not unusual for their human companions to talk about it, show their feelings. Abraham Lincoln, Rich Levine’s long time companion, went everywhere with him, even in his last days of mobility.

    It did not feel unusual at all for Nathan to take two days off from building the greenhouse. His old Dog and his Dad were both hurting. Needed him. More than I did. Fit right in with Colorado culture.

    Shadow woke up today at 4:15 am. Oh, joy. I mean, I’m an early riser by nature, but… Gives me plenty of time for the Shema, the Morning Service, checking my e-mails, writing Ancientrails. And, since it’s Wednesday, putting out the trash.

    I don’t mind. I now go to bed around 7:30 pm so I can get all my sleep.

     

    Just a moment: IMHO. Trump will not be able to resist dropping a big, beautiful bomb or two. Only the U.S. (see, only) has the MOP, or Massive Ordnance Penetrator, and a plane, the B2, that can deliver it.

    Trump’s narcissism, with which he also conflates white supremacy and the U.S. government, will not allow him to deny a moment when he, read the United States, holds the only weapon capable of exploding Iran’s Fordow bunker where its main nuclear enrichment facility resides deep underground. The only weapon. Only the U.S. Only Trump can fix it. Today or tomorrow I’d guess.

     

    Back and leg pain: Turns out getting up every hour, doing something for five minutes or so, even longer, has helped the pain a lot.

    My mobility remains pretty limited and I still can’t stand long enough to cook, but I have made strength gains. Yesterday was evaluation day and Halle put me through the same exam she gave when we first started working together.

    I took a full second off my five squats time, for example. Slowly, slowly. Digging myself out of a hole partially of my own making.


    📂This entry was posted in Colorado Dogs Greenhouse Health Politics US History World History

  • A Sad Man

    Posted on by Charles 1 Comment

    Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

    Tuesday gratefuls: Shadow, the sweet girl. Kate, always Kate. Morning darkness. Great Sol and Aurora. Toad Flax. Buttercups. Daisies. Iris. Lilacs. Mountain Wildflowers. A blue Colorado Sky. My Ancient Brothers. Cookunity. Aspen Perks. Marilyn and Irv. Paul today. Afib. Prostate Cancer. Kabbalah. Tarot. Astrology. Herme. Mary. Jang Deep.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Love for a Dog

    Week Kavannah: Bitachon. Confidence.  “A feeling of self-assurance arising from one’s appreciation of one’s abilities or qualities.”

    One brief shining: On the hour I get up and move around for at least five minutes, often accomplishing some task like cutting boxes for the trash or emptying the dishwasher or walking with Shadow in the back, admiring the greenhouse, and to my chagrin finding this the best medicine so far for my aching back and hips. That Halle.

     

    Dog journal: Alarm bark. Constant. Shadow feet forward, warning as her nemesis, the young Mule Deer Doe stood on the other side of the fence, looking quizzically at her. Suddenly, from the garage stairs, a large fluffy black Cat flew from the bottom step in two leaps to the fence and out.

    When Shadow saw the Cat, little cartoon balloons appeared over her head. Cat! Cat! Cat! Her barking intensified. OMG! Cat! Cat! Cat! Both the Cat and the Doe decided it was time to be elsewhere. Good Dog. Good Dog. We’re all safe now.

    Shadow has not yet learned to protect the house from FedEx, UPS, and Mark, the mailman, but I’m sure she will. Territory is territory. After all.

    Nathan came to the house yesterday with sad news. His Jack Russel terrier, Takota, whom he had given to his Dad when his mother died, had come to the end of his journey. He came to tell me in person that he had to drive down the hill and have Takota euthanized.

    Nathan has a good strong heart. His sadness was deep and I knew it in my soul. He’s very apologetic about the delays already, yet knew this took priority. Yes, it did.

    He told, too, the story of one his other dogs, a German Shepherd he rescued from a miserable home at the age of 7. In 1990’s Conifer he and his buddies would grab a duffle bag and go camping in the Mountains. The Shepherd always came along.

    Then, she got cancer. Nathan would have his mom drive him and his buddies two miles from home leaving the Dog behind. In spite of her cancer the Shepherd would follow the scent of the car, find where they left the road, and come happily into their camp. She was special, he said. Yes, she was.

     

    Just a moment: If you want a good source of geopolitical information, try the Caspian Report on Youtube. My son recommended it to me quite a while ago. I don’t watch it often, but I found this explainer on the Israel-Iran conflict useful in understanding what’s at stake.

     

     

     

     

     

    shadow cat mule deer. nathan and takota.


    📂This entry was posted in Dogs Friends Greenhouse Politics Wild Neighbors World History

  • Seed Keepers

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

    Monday gratefuls: Shadow, outside again. Hokas. Keenes. Merrills. LLBean. Vermont Flannel. Ancient Brothers on fatherhood. My mola shirt. T-shirts. Great Sol. Illumination. Enlightenment. Philosophy. Whitehead. James. Nietzsche. Camus. Plato. Bergman. Wim Wenders. Zorba.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: 1 hour movement breaks

    Week Kavannah: Bitachon. Confidence.  “A feeling of self-assurance arising from one’s appreciation of one’s abilities or qualities.”

    One brief shining: Front pages cry out, scream from the blood, the arrogant cruelty, the missiles and bombers, the intentional dismantlement of our Federal government, while ICE makes everything hotter, more volatile and the people say, not Amen, but enough!

     

    Seed-Keepers: Life in America Today. A divided nation from sea to shining sea. “No Kings” protests against red tie guy’s cruelty, avarice, lust for power. While a military parade in honor of the Armies 250th birthday saw a lie with each salute from the Chaos Master in Chief. On Flag Day. On his birthday.

    So many of us. So many. As our nation descends from world hegemon to regional power, from democracy to autocracy, from a center of scientific thought and experiment to a dogma driven professional culture. From a land of liberty to a land of ICE raids and U.S. military on U.S. streets. From twenty-first century governance to a robber baron oligarchy.

    What shall we do? Seed-keeping. Yes. de minimis. Protest? Yes. Live rich, full lives instead of ones cramped by hatred, loathing, bitterness. Yes.

    How? Gather a few friends, family members, neighbors. Discuss what makes America a nation we believe in. Research together those who have taken so much of it from us. Plan for the 2026 elections. Write about your work in letters to the editor, blogs, columns in community newspapers. Keep talking, meeting, taking energy from resistance. You are not alone.

    Decide on a seed as the symbol of your work. I’m choosing the beet seed, a prickly ball of potential that grows into a strong, versatile plant. Its leaves and its roots both edible. Great by itself and wonderful when mixed with the produce from other seeds. What seed will you choose?

     

    Dog journal: Shadow would not come in last night, even though she and I have entered a space of mutuality. The incident with the Mule Deer Doe awakened, I think, protective and herding instincts, matters intrinsic to who she is.

    Our affection for each other grows. She leans against me, stays by my side. I reach down and stroke her flanks. Once I get Seedlings to care for a part of me will be whole again.

     

    Just a moment: Israel and Iran. War. Missiles. Drones. Oil fields aflame. Apartment complexes twisted and broken. Israeli’s in shelters. Iranians wondering what to do.

    Ukraine still holding back the Bear. A war of resistance to oppression. Not too far from Iran as the missile flies.

    I’m reading a book, the Strategy of Denial, by Eldridge Colby. He’s currently under secretary of Defense for policy. In it he lays out his argument for a strong pivot to Asia. In a world of regional powers like the U.S., China, Europe he believes our core national interest lies in denying China any chance of becoming a regional hegemon in Asia.

    He would pull us out of Ukraine. Not sure where stands on Israel.


    📂This entry was posted in Asia Dogs Politics Seed Keepers US History World History

  • Living, not dying

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

    Sunday gratefuls: Israel. Iran. The Middle East. War and peace. My son. Father’s Day. Korea. Commander. Seoah. Murdoch. The Jangs. Shadow. Our relationship. Dogs. Kate, always Kate. Evergreen Rodeo. Tourists. Maxwell Creek.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: CBE Men’s Group

    Week Kavannah: Week Kavannah: Bitachon. Confidence.  “A feeling of self-assurance arising from one’s appreciation of one’s abilities or qualities.”

    One brief shining: Touched the framing of the greenhouse, sturdy, and began to imagine the Garden beds filled with Lettuce, Radishes, Beets, Peppers, Tomatoes, Marigolds, a favorite salad ingredient, Nasturtiums, and standing inside a heated greenhouse in the Winter, Snow piled up outside and tending to the raised bed with Lettuce, Peppers, Radishes, Beets, Flowers growing in pots.

     

    Life, tactile and warm, Shadow and the greenhouse, living, not dying. Nurturing life other than my own, right here at home. As I’ve been used to doing for the last 40 plus years.

    This is walking upright in the world. For me.

    Yesterday I attended the CBE men’s group. Rabbi Jamie said, “I’m seeing you in person.” I finished a ten session zoom class with him on Wednesday, and I haven’t been to the synagogue in several weeks though I’ve attended Thursday mussar on zoom many of them.

    Driving has become such a literal pain that even a trip to Evergreen makes me uncomfortable. Working on it. SPRINT device in July sometime. A visit to an orthopedist on Wednesday for the tear in my right hip’s labrum.

    Glad I have Halle and her spirited work, her sage advice. One hour then up. A walking meditation. Dog training. Making breakfast, lunch. Getting the trash ready. Yes. Agency.

     

    Father’s Day: Talked to my son yesterday. His Sunday morning. Father’s Day. Being a father in my particular way began with my commitment to feminism. Doing my part for birth control. I had a vasectomy at age twenty-six. The Rice Street Clinic in St. Paul.

    As a result, when the need, and that’s what it was, the need to become a father hit me, quite unexpectedly, at age thirty, I had to have a reversal. Which never woke my little guys back up. Low motility.

    Which left adoption. Raeone and I worked with an adoption agency in Minnesota to find a baby who would die if they were not adopted. At the time, the late seventies, that meant India.

    Women in rural Bengal would find themselves pregnant in their eighth month due to malnutrition. The would go into Kolkata to give birth, then the babies were discarded.

    Unless. International Mission of Hope had arrangements with several of the “hospitals” that took in these women. In those instances the babies were taken to an IMH orphanage and made available for adoption.

    Our first referral, a girl, died due to a salmonella infection that rampaged through the orphanage. It took another year for a new referral, little Jang Deep, four pounds and four ounces, delivered in a wicker basket by blue and white garbed nuns at the International Arrivals section of the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport.

     


    📂This entry was posted in Ancient Brothers Dogs Family Fourth Phase Greenhouse Memories Men Minnesota

  • Embarrassed to Admit

    Posted on by Charles 1 Comment

    Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

    Shabbat gratefuls: CBE. Men’s group. Carol. Paul. The Greenhouse. Door and windows framed in. Seed order from Seed Saver’s Exchange has arrived. Ordered garden tools. Shabbat. Shadow, the tender. Israel. Iran. Lebanon. Palestinians. Saudi Arabia. Mark in Al Kharj. Jordan. Syria. Egypt. Iraq. Kuwait. The Emirates. War. Peace. Morning darkness. Waning gibbous Greenhouse Moon.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Cool Mountain Breeze

    Week Kavannah: Bitachon. Confidence.  “A feeling of self-assurance arising from one’s appreciation of one’s abilities or qualities.”

    One brief shining: In a world scarred by war and diminished by autocrats daily life goes on, trips to the grocery store, conversations with friends, feeding the dog, until of course it does not. Or, cannot.

     

    My Seeds arrived. Heirloom varieties all. A nod to the Seed Saver’s among us, purchased from the Seed Saver’s Exchange near Decorah, Iowa. The Greenhouse will finish up next week. With the addition of soil to the three raised beds I will get started planting.

    With Shadow by my side I’ll return to the Andover/Kate years of Dogs and Gardens. At least in part. No Bees this time. No Orchard. No Kate. Still. Co-creation. Tending the soil. Weeding, nurturing seedlings. Harvesting. Eating. The true transubstantiation.

    Once again direct engagement with the Great Wheel’s blessings of Rain and Sun, Night and Day, growing season and fallow time.

    When Nathan finishes, I’m going to have Rabbi Jamie and maybe some friends over to hang a mezuzah on its door, bless it. Artemis.

     

    Living with pain: Embarrassed to admit it. Halle suggested setting my alarm for an hour. Then, get up and spend five minutes moving around. Embarrassed for three reasons: 1. Halle can’t be more than twenty-five. 2. I’ve read, know about this life hack. 3. It reveals how much I sit these days.

    Even so. When the student is ready, the teacher arrives. Halle, in spite of her youth, is my teacher. I’ve been doing this hack for the last two days and it really helps. Keeps the hips and legs lubricated plus I get something done.

    Just now I went outside and played the stop, drop, turn and move on game with Shadow. Called her a few times. Five minutes well spent.

    Next five minutes I’ll make breakfast. Will take longer than five minutes but that’s fine. Perhaps after breakfast, I’ll read for an hour, then at the five minute break head up to the loft to continue my painting that I started a week ago.

    All easy enough. Yet habit and mood have kept me in my chair for too long for too long.

     

    Just a moment: We’ve passed out of the world hegemon era to one of regional conflicts. Russia trying to assert itself in the old Soviet Bloc. Israel attacking all of its Shia enemies. China advancing its navy into the South China Sea, claiming once and always Taiwan. The renaming of the Gulf of Mexico.

    A world of regional powers rather than a global one (or, two) is unstable. Many flashpoints. Iran. Ukraine. Island chains near Japan, the Philippines, Taiwan.

     


    📂This entry was posted in Aging Dogs Feelings Fourth Phase Garden Greenhouse Health Politics US History World History

  • It’s Survivable

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

    Friday gratefuls: Halle. P.T. Rain. Thunder. Overhead. Shadow. Her protection of her territory. The Greenhouse: door and windows framed in, rafters up. Nathan. Vince. The Jangs. Fatherhood. My son. Seoah. Israel. Iran. Red tie guy. Jim Butcher. Fully leafed Aspens. Lodgepole Pollen. Yellow, yellow, yellow.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Fawns, calves, kits, cubs

    Week Kavannah: Gratitude. Hakarot Hatov. (recognizing the good)    “Who is rich? Those who rejoice in their own portion.” Perkei Avot: 4:1

    One brief shining: Alert, front paws on the head of the bed, the danger detector Shadow looked out over the backyard, her lean muscled body ready, there: bark, bark, bark, bark, bark. 1:15 am

     

    Dog journal: Shadow came inside. Her outside work done. The Doe had left the yard. She seemed happy to see me, to be back inside. Last night, as she has for previous nights, she crawled up on the bed, only to look out the window.

    And what to her wandering eyes should appear. Lots of Trees and, another Mule Deer? Whatever it was, it needed warning. Get out of my yard. Right now. At least she was inside the tent barking out, rather than outside barking in.

    Shadow.

     

    Israel/Iran: Netanyahu survived a close vote in parliament. Next step? Bomb Iran. I understand the attack on Iran and its nuclear program. One nuclear weapon could take out Jerusalem.

    I also understand that for the first time in several decades Hezbollah no longer threatens northern Israel as it once did. Hamas has suffered degradation in the forever war in Gaza. The Houthis have taken strikes from both the U.S. and Israel. This means that the Iranian proxy armies no longer have the punchback power they did a year ago.

    Yes, I get all that. But what about a year from now? Two years? Ten? Israel has become an aggressor state, no longer acting only in its own defense. The Arab states will remember. Will plan. Will fight back. Perhaps not now, but later? It’s a certainty.

    Better to have brokered peace deals with the Emirates, the Sauds, Jordan, the new regime in Syria, maybe even Egypt.

    Now the way forward lies littered with bomb craters, terror attacks, regional tensions remaining high. This is not a victory. It’s a powerful statement, yes, but only one statement in a centuries long dispute. The only way out is peace.

     

    Just a moment: I asked Halle, my p.t. therapist, if she would miss the Mountains. She leaves for Dallas in August.

    Her smile lit up, “I sure will. But if I want to preserve my tax status I have to leave for four or five months. I’ll be back in January for snowboarding!” Something about choosing a tax home and the rules for traveling nurses, physical therapists.

    Halle’s parents were up here last weekend. That’s when she found out about her grandfather’s prostate cancer. He’s in his mid-eighties. Most likely they won’t treat him.

    I told her to tell him two things: it’s survivable and he has lots of company.

     


    📂This entry was posted in Dogs Fourth Phase Health Judaism Politics