Category Archives: General

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, General, Great Wheel

An Afternoon Sadness

December 19, 2022 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Holimonth Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Tor. Orion. Kate, always Kate. The morning Sun on the Lodgepoles. Kep outside at 3 am, wandering. Trump referred for criminal prosecution. And, probably not for the last time. Merry Christmas. Congress funds the government. Gabe and his legos. Ruth. Hanukah. The 2nd day. Those Maccabees. Tom and the Winter Solstice. The World Cup. F1. Baseball. The MLB ticket. Sports. Waiting on the Cold Air. Grief. Sadness.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Tor

Yesterday afternoon. Back to pruning. Clearing off the wire shelving in Kate’s former sewing room. The last of her stuff still untouched. A long rectangular box. Heavy. Lifted it off the top shelf. Tor. Oh. Shot to the heart. Tor my beautiful boy. A wheaten Irish Wolfhound. Friend to Orion. Our last two I.W.’s. Petting him each night before I went to bed thinking I wanted to touch him one last time alive. He had a bad heart and dropped dead in the area behind our Andover garage. Oh.

Clearing off some of Kate’s stuff I found a note from a reunion, a classmate’s after message. Loved being pulled down for a second kiss. I’m afraid I disappointed Kate. Not as passionate as she was.

Tor’s ashes and that note coming right after hit me pretty hard. Grief and regret. There are some things you cannot fix. Felt like a punch to the chest. An hour plus later. Still sad.

Going into the great darkness tomorrow. Perhaps appropriate. Fated. The dark night, the longest night. Since the summer solstice, we’ve lost a little light each day. Till now the days are short and the nights dominant. A Great Wheel time to be sad. For sadness. For inner work. For falling down the Great Well of inner space. Until. Until. We hit the world ocean of the collective unconscious. Swim in those waters.

All the mourners slip down that Great Well for a time. Return to it when they lift a favorite dog’s ashes off a shelf unknowingly. Are reminded of their shortcomings as a partner. Other feelings rush into the space. Shame. Loss. Anger. Abandonment. Fear.

Waiting for the light. Which comes. Not in the Spring. But on the day after tomorrow. As the days grow longer, bit by bit. So does clarity about these emotions. Set them in the context of life, of flawed humanity. No I was not all that Kate wanted, but I was much of what she needed. As she was for me.

These moments have become rare, but not gone not completely. Love is a many splintered thing and grieving its loss one of the most complicated acts in life. No, that’s not right. Love is never lost. Grieving the loss of the beloved. The tactile mutuality. Sitting across the table talking. Lying in bed together. Visiting other nations, other cultures. Together across years and decades. That’s what’s lost.

The descent into darkness and the gradual return of the light. A fundamental message of the Great Wheel. A message of life-death-life-death-life and again as long there is time and life. Before the Sun goes red giant. Until.

Happy Hanukah and a very Merry Christmas.

Dogs, General, Mountains, Science, Shadow Mountain

Wild

December 18, 2022 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Holimonth Moon

Sunday gratefuls. Erev Hanukah. Gabe. Deciding which presents to open first. Avatar: Water. Pakeha. Cold weather coming. Kep. His blind life. Beau Jo’s pizza. Gabe’s teenage boy appetite. Rabbi Jamie’s adult class on Hanukah. The death of P-22. Vince and Frank Zappa. Kep on the grippy rug. That red alert call at 2 am. For the wrong city. Wellington Paranormal. Next to last episode.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: A grandson’s love

The death of P-22. This article in the LA Times tells the story of P-22. In case you didn’t know it. A Mountain Lion that wandered into Griffith Park after crossing several freeways ten years ago P-22 became, as LA seems to require, a celebrity. Here’s another article about P-22 in the Washington Post.

Beth Pratt, regional executive director of the National Wildlife Federation said:

“I sat near him, looking into his eyes for a few minutes, and told him he was a good boy,” wrote Pratt, who said goodbye to P-22 before he was euthanized. “I told him how much I loved him. How much the world loved him.”

And, quoted later in the article: “He changed the way we look at L.A. And his influencer status extended around the world, as he inspired millions of people to see wildlife as their neighbors…”

I understand. Here in the Mountains our wild Neighbors continue to evoke awe and wonder no matter how long your residency. Driving yesterday Gabe and I saw more than fifteen Mule Deer at various points along the road. The rule in the Mountains is this. Where there are Deer there are Mountain Lions. I’ve never seen one though Kate did.

Coming home from MVP Wednesday night I saw a flash of light, slowed and saw a healthy Red Fox gazing at me from the hillside. As I drove home, I thought about him slipping into the night Forest on the hunt. We humans are diurnal, sleeping at night and active in the daytime (most of us anyhow. though the electric light has altered our behavior a lot.) The nighttime Forest is difficult for us navigate. Dr. Astrov from Uncle Vanya, “You know how, when walking in the Forest at night, when you see a light you forget the darkness and your fatigue, the thorny branches hitting you in the face…” Many fairy tales have their story set in the dark Woods.

Mountain Lions are crepuscular hunters, dawn and twilight. Ambush predators they lie in wait on rocky outcropping or on a tree branch. As P-22 did, Mountain Lions will eat pets. A Dog run up here without a top? Box lunch.

Our wild Neighbors throughout the World remind us of the thin veneer we have created with civilization. The Arctic cold slumping south this next week may highlight this again in south Texas. Remember the sudden crisis in the Texas electrical grid in February of 2021? Bet it’s not fixed.

We fantasize ourselves as separate from the lives of our wild Neighbors, but that’s all it is. Fantasy. Without the roof and walls of our homes, the heating or cooling they provide, the provisions available in grocery stores, without electricity or gas or fuel oil. Back to nature. Without my motorized chair or a pedal powered bicycle Denver is as far away for me as it is for that Black Bear I saw this summer.

Dystopian movies and novels, of which there have been many as we head toward a possible Climate apocalypse, foreshadow the survivalists nightmare come true. And that nightmare is. A return to the Wild.

General

When will we ever learn?

November 23, 2022 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Decided Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Prostate cancer. P.E.T. Scans. Water up, dude. Dry brining the tenderloin roast. Thanksgiving. Kep. Fingerless gloves. Ruth in Colorado Springs. The Walmart shooting victims. The Walmart shooter. Creativity. Cool Nights. Reading. The Glass Bead Game. Movies. Seventh Seal. Poems. The Road Not Taken. Velveeta hair and clown tie. Jared Polis. Pete Buttegieg. Elizabeth Warren. Ukraine. All my friends and family.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: P.E.T. Scan

Yes. Today I have a P.E.T. scan. A special sort, like the axumin. Special in two ways. First, it will decide definitively whether I have bony metastases. Second, it will cost me over $1,100. My 20% share of the tracer plus a co-pay. I’m going into it with no sedative. It’s an open-sided machine and my head will only be enclosed for a brief period of time. I should be ok. Comfortable clothes, no metal. Worth the money to avoid general anesthetic. Though I didn’t have a choice. Have to drink lots of water.

Feeling a bit stressed. Thanksgiving. Claustrophobia. Cancer. But just a bit. The worst stress of the three is Thanksgiving. I don’t entertain very much. I want the tenderloin roast to come out well. My pie, too. This is a first try at the new family constellation after Jon’s death, too. Claustrophobia is a buzz kill in so many ways. But I can manage it for brief periods of time. Cancer. Well. To paraphrase my friend Judy, “This beast may kill me, but not today.”

Another session with Robin. Cleared the table for Thanksgiving in Kate’s old sewing room. Moved photographs out of that room. Got rid of a lot of boxes, trash. Which I took out to the road today for Shirley Waste Removal. This was the last session with her until the first of the year. She’s taking December off to be with family and see a bathroom remodel through. Going to go through the whole house with her. Making progress. Feels good. Winnowing. Pruning.

Got back the second bid for painting today. Surprising. It’s a thousand dollars less than the first one. And from Greg Lell. Whom I want to use anyhow. Doug has not called yet with his bid. I won’t decide until Marty comes and helps me choose paint colors. I may have her help me in positioning furniture, too.

Walmart employee kills 6. Chesapeake, Va. Walmart sells guns. I’m choosing to think right now that we’ll find our way out of this whole mess. Why? Not sure. A new feeling since the elections. Maybe it’s the chrysalis effect talked about by Phillip Slater. Thanks, Tom, for the book. More on this later.

General

Azrael

October 23, 2022 Charles Leave a comment

Fall and the Simchat Torah Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Judy. Death. Cancer. High Winds. Snow coming. Moderate Fire danger. Hawai’i. Jon, a memory. Kate, always Kate. Golden. Clear Creek Commons. Decision making. Mini-splits. Fatigue. Friendship. Kabbalah. Creativity. Ode. Tom. Bill. Paul. Kep. Emily. Shirley Waste and Septic. Ruby, who keeps running. Blizzaks. Ruth and Gabe. Ali Baba’s gyros. Adapting. Politics. Climate change.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Judy

Azrael. The angel of the fourth phase. A visitor with whom I’ve become well acquainted over the last couple of years. In Islam a leaf falls from the tree beneath God’s throne. A name written upon it. Azrael then has forty days to separate the soul from the body.

Pneumonia Kate often said is the friend of the elderly. Azrael. When she realized her time had come, Kate invited Azrael to visit. Death is not an enemy. Not a tragedy. But a completion. A sign that life has finished and the journey after has begun. Whatever that journey may be.

Got a text from my friend. I’m in home hospice now. Could you come visit in the next two weeks? Of course. How about tomorrow? I’m leaving town for Hawai’i on Monday. Would 11 am work? Of course. I’ll see her then.

She and I have shared a cancer journey. We inquired about each others surveillance numbers, treatments. She often said this beast will kill me but not today. That day comes closer. Her leaf has fallen, perhaps a while ago.

When I got her text, I sat in my chair and cried. And cried. Azrael may not be an enemy, but the disappearance of people we have known and loved will always hurt.

Where do they go, those who die? We know this for certain. They leave us behind. No matter how good the death or how bad they are gone. That smile. That touch. Those memories. The wonder and the pain. That soul lifted out and gone.

My mother’s memory a blessing now. Even my father’s now, too. Kate a companion of the heart, her wisdom still teaching me. Jon still a conflicted absence, but sometime, some day what will remain is his love for his children, his gentle manner toward life, that art he made from the beaten and discarded metal left by the road. Judy, her food. Her sharing. Her kindness. But still. All will be gone.

I wish them all well on their journeys whatever they may be. And I hope that when I join them others will wish me well too.

Drove over to Golden yesterday to look at Clear Creek Commons. I went on a Saturday. The leasing office closed. I couldn’t get in. Will do when I get back from Hawai’i. On first impression it looked more enclosed than I’d imagined though it is smack downtown and overlooks Clear Creek. Imagining myself in it I felt claustrophobic. Compared to the open space around me on Shadow Mountain. No Lodgepoles. No Mule Deer. No Elk. No Mountains or Foxes. No Aspen.

Though. I adapt well and have lived in a similar environment in Irvine Park in St. Paul and near Loring Park in Minneapolis. Happily. Not by any means ruling it out. Each place has its initial negatives. Hawai’i the lack of friends. Minnesota its brutal winters.

My turn as the theme master for my Ancient Brothers and I chose the theme of decision making. How do you make decisions? What were the best and the worst you’ve made? Wanted something that was existential for me. Decisions are for me.

One matter I’ve not taken into account well enough, I think, is my continuing fatigue. I may not have the energy for a new start in Hawai’i or a house anywhere.

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, General, Hawai'i, Hermitage, Mussar, Shadow Mountain, Torah

Where am I going?

October 12, 2022 Charles Leave a comment

Fall and the Sukkot Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Diane. Coming to help me prune. Jogging. Sleep. Acting. Chekhov. The Seagulls. Cool. Shirley Septic and Waste. Kep. Poor guy. Bumping into stuff. Ukraine. Putin. Missiles. Will. Minnesota. Hawai’i. ? Lab draws this morning. Flu shot.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Hawai’i

Picked Diane up at the Federal Center Station of the RTD yesterday afternoon. Drove back to the Natural Grocers where we picked up supplies. Apples. Aloe Vera juice. Organic fish sticks. Mixed vegetables. Raspberries. Blueberries. Bananas. Tomatoes. Lettuce. Headed back home.

At the Natural Grocers we got into a conversation with the cashier. Where’re you from? San Francisco. Here. Oh, I’m from Hawai’i. Oh, I’m moving to Hawai’i. What Island? Oahu. Oh, I’m from Oahu. The North Shore, where all the surfing is. Yes, I’m going to that side, too. Oh, Kailua, Kane’ Ohe’? Yes.

Diane picked up on my answer and asked about it, given my recent blogs. Oh, just trying to bond with the cashier, I said.

More I thought about it though I realized Hawai’i is still top of mind when I think about moving. And, I’ve been telling people I’m moving to Hawai’i for quite awhile now. An interesting, unbidden piece of information about the move.

Not sure what it means. If anything. But there you are.

Mussar tonight. My turn to lead. Anavah. Humility. A key idea in mussar is taking up the right amount of space. That’s the idea of humility. Neither self-deprecating nor self-aggrandizing, being who you are.

Here’s a Rabbi’s take on anavah.*

How do you experience anavah in your own life? Do you ever take up too much space? Too little? If so, why? How can you create a you that takes up the space you deserve?

One of my favorite stories from the Torah. Jacob and the Angel at the Jabbok Ford.** I see it as an example of anavah. Jacob wrestled with God/the Angel/a man to determine the right amount of space between him and the sacred.

One interpretation is this. Jacob was on a journey, fleeing his brother Esau. He had divided his livestock and servants in two, reasoning that he might escape with half his wealth if his servants encountered Esau. God had come to him in a dream and told him to go to the land of his fathers and God would be with him.

As they crossed the ford of the Jabbok River, Jacob stayed behind. While he was alone, a man came and wrestled with him. Jacob was alone as a result of his struggles with his father-in-law Laban and his brother, Esau.

Jacob had experienced rejection by his father-in-law and his own brother. He had fled them. Who was he now? Was he a man who fought with his closest relatives, made them angry, divided his family? Or, was he a man of the sacred, following a path that was his pilgrimage?

That night beside the river at a ford, places known for their magical qualities, Jacob had to decide who he was. He struggled within himself, trying to decide whether he was a bad brother and a bad son-in-law or was he a good man who had done what was necessary?

In that struggle he learned that he was neither. Or both. When the inner jihad was over, he had a new self-awareness. he was now Israel, for he had experienced the sacred within himself and survived to gain a clear identity, an authentic Self.

*Just as the Torah begins with Parashat B’reishit, Mussar practice begins with the middah of anavah. All other middot are accessed through this core character trait. The middah of anavah is essential for living with integrity. When we think of humility, we may imagine someone who is the picture of modesty and meekness. However, in Mussar, humility is not defined as being so humble that you disappear; rather, it is about having all of your character traits in balance so that the inner light of the soul shines pure and clear as originally intended. As Mussar teacher Alan Morinis puts it, “Being humble doesn’t mean being nobody: it just means being no more of a somebody than you ought to be.”
…In our own lives, we hide our authentic selves from the truth of our lives. When we live out of balance, despite the fact that we may be falling apart on the inside or on the outside, we betray our lives. We take up either too much or too little space; either we take away space from others, or we abandon them when they need us. Our sacred connection to anything important—our families, our communities, our work—all suffer when we neglect to live life with anavah in balance. Celebrated with intention, Shabbat provides the time, space, and opportunity to reconnect to our core essence, reacquire a sense of proportion, and connect anew with the people and projects in our lives with both humility and presence. Anavah, approaching our lives with humility, means not taking up too much space in the Garden, not trying to fool others with some disguise of our true selves; but to honestly offer our truest selves to the people and work we encounter in our lives. Humility: Shabbat as a Return to Our Authentic Selves” by Rabbi Michelle Pearlman and Rabbi Sharon Mars in Mussar Torah Commentary, p.3, 6

**22 The same night he arose and took his two wives, his two maids, and his eleven children, and crossed the ford of the Jabbok.23 He took them and sent them across the stream, and likewise everything that he had.24 And Jacob was left alone; and a man wrestled with him until the breaking of the day.25 When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he touched the hollow of his thigh; and Jacob’s thigh was put out of joint as he wrestled with him.26 Then he said, “Let me go, for the day is breaking.” But Jacob said, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.”27 And he said to him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Jacob.”28 Then he said, “Your name shall no more be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with men, and have prevailed.”29 Then Jacob asked him, “Tell me, I pray, your name.” But he said, “Why is it that you ask my name?” And there he blessed him.30 So Jacob called the name of the place Peni’el, saying, “For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved.”31 The sun rose upon him as he passed Penu’el, limping because of his thigh.32 Therefore to this day the Israelites do not eat the sinew of the hip which is upon the hollow of the thigh, because he touched the hollow of Jacob’s thigh on the sinew of the hip.

General

rental agent draft

August 28, 2022 Charles Leave a comment

rin, I’m looking to move to Oahu within the next 6-8 months. No later than March, 2023. I’m single, widowed, 75. I have an Akita, 85 pounds. Apartment or Condo. Quiet is important. 2 bedrooms. High speed internet. Probably AC. If not in Honolulu, parking. Between $3000 and $4000 or so a month.

Colorado, General, Mountains, Park County, Plants, Tarot, The West, US History

Burning Bear Creek Trail

July 13, 2022 Charles Leave a comment

Summer and the Aloha Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Alan. Susan Taylor. Burning Bear Creek trail. The blue Columbine. The Dictionary of Art. Burning Bear Creek. Kep. Groomed. North Fork of the South Platte. The Denver, South Platte, and Fairplay Railroad. Highway 285 which covered its rails. Mountains. Bailey. Award Winning Pet Grooming.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Burning Bear Creek

Tarot: Knight of Vessels, Eel

“The Eel is a shapeshifter. He is purposeful and agile, gliding over the water (emotions) with such ease and quickness that he can adapt his physical form to accommodate even sudden changes.

Knight of Vessels Wildwood urges you to apply the same adaptability as you begin to pursue your own goals. He invites you to find opportunities to express yourself.” tarotx.net (edited)

Found it. The trailhead to Burning Bear Creek Trail. Surprised myself by walking uphill for some ways without huffing and puffing. Fist pump. Two months ago I drove past the trail head and found other beautiful vistas including the huge beaver dam and pound. Also the hillsides with beaver cut tree stumps.

The trail begins right at the road and the parking area only has enough space for two or three vehicles. I expected a turnoff and a larger parking area so I missed it. This time I followed the mileage suggestion and found it at about three miles from Hwy. 285 on Park County #60.

There is a two mile stretch of 60 before the trailhead that is private property, grandfathered in I imagine because it is in the Pike National Forest. Maybe four or five homes along the way. This is isolated country, back country. What a wonderful place it would be to grow up. Pronghorn Antelope, Black Bear, Beavers, Mule Deer, Fox. Burning Bear Creek. Moose. Mountain Lions. Mountain vistas. Pine and Aspen Forest. Mountain meadows. Wild Flowers. A neighborhood of wild Animals and Mountains and Creeks and Plants.

The trail starts uphill right at the road and continues across a meadow for a couple of hundred yards. Well maintained, it has rock dams every so often. Water shunts down the hillside then, not eroding the trail. A lot of work went into this, one of hundreds of trails in the Rockies.

When I got a hundred yards along the trail, this is what I saw.

A couple of things began to bug me. Had I locked the car? (Had I turned the burner off?) And. Why had I chosen to hike without my camelpak? A short hike, that’s what I told myself. Wasn’t the water I missed but the bear bells. I plan to purchase bear spray, too, now that I’m hiking in the true back country.

I’d set my timer to 15 minutes. I decided I’d go back right away and continued on. A 30 minute hike was what I’d planned.

Further on I found a patch of blue Columbine, Colorado’s State Flower, as well as a contrasting red Indian Paint Brush.

The Blue Columbine is endangered because hikers dig them up for their Rock gardens. Silly folk. They could come back in the fall and collect the seeds. I may do just that.

The trail took a downward slope as my timer went off. I could hear Burning Bear Creek running below so I decided to go on.

Up the slope of the Valley’s other side I could see that the trail leveled out. Went up to investigate.

I found this marker pointing up this section of the trail.

Oh. My. I’ll be coming back with bells on. And Bear Spray, Water, and Snacks. And, a longer time line.

Finally, I stopped at the Shawnee National Historic Site. About half way back to Bailey.

General

This and That

May 2, 2022 Charles Leave a comment

Beltane and the Beltane Moon

Monday gratefuls: Groveland. The Ancient Brothers. Alan. Devolution. Thinking. Miguel de Unamuno. Philosophy in the key of human. Secular sabbath. An at home retreat each week. Kya. Will she be Kep’s new girlfriend? Snow. Falling. Not the Snow. Me. Because of the Snow. Ouch. Breakfast. Road trip. Del Norte. Saturday. Meet Kya.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Mouse that got away

I’ll post Devolution later in the day. I have to make some changes to the word file and I don’t have time right now. Going out to breakfast with Alan.

Enjoyed the presentation. Trying to write like I talk. More and more. Felt like it hit home for the folks listening. Though. It seemed to engender talk about climate change and that was not really my point. Though it is a subsequent point for sure.

Got me excited again about the book. The non-fiction book about faith in the seen. The known. Look at what you see.

Oh, man. Wore my tennis shoes. Mistake. Stepped down with my dog bowl of dead Mice and slipped on the rubber mat intended to make an unsteady place safe for Kate. Cue irony. Fortunately I hit only my back muscles, but I went down hard. Ooof. Have my help me I’ve fallen button on but I could get back up. Lucky. Shows the risks of living alone are real. Intractable.

Reading Miguel de Unamuno’s, The Tragic Sense of Life. He was a philosopher who intrigued me in college. Never went back to him. When I looked again at Santayana’s material, he reminded me of Unamuno. Bought books of both. Both Spanish though Unamuno is a Basque and might have resented that identification. He’s funny. And contrary. An existentialist. Reminded me again why I loved him long ago.

Like returning to this kind of reading. It informs my thinking and with a guy like Unamuno, my heart. I’m a secular guy with a heart attachment to the universe through the particulars of Mother Earth, Luna, and Sol.

This is the week of home maintenance. Altitude Electric for work on the generator. So it works next time there’s a power outage. House cleaning. So the house is, well, clean. Coyote HVAC for seasonal maintenance on mini-splits. And, a doggy time with Kep in for his shots and annual physical.

The usual classes in Kabbalah: Astrology and the Sefer Yetzirah. Mussar. And my first acting class tonight. Treading the boards again at 75. We’ll see.

Kate’s yahrzeit observed at the Kabbalat Shabbat service this Friday. 6 pm. Jon and the kids coming up for that. Then Gabe’s meal at Brooke’s Tavern.

On Saturday a journey to Del Norte, about 3 hours south. To an Akita breeder. Rehoming a 9 year old female, Kya. She doesn’t like dominant females. No joking about this please. I’m taking Kep with me. We’ll see if they seem compatible. If so, I’ll bring her home for a trial. Kep needs a buddy. Bad.

BTW: As I suspected. Ravens. Eating the mice. A bit of Snow last night and I found their distinctive tracks. Happy to help these magnificent Birds. Cycle of life.

On one of the traps the red light blinked. The peanut butter had disappeared. But. No mouse? Smart mouse or a resurrected one? I dunno. A mystery.

General

March 21

March 22, 2022 Charles Leave a comment

Spring and the Seoah Citizenship Moon

Monday gratefuls: Better energy. The Ancient Brothers. Kep. The Grandma wall. Loading the last, for now, donations to Mountain Resource Center and/or Goodwill. A dull gray day. Uncommon. Snow. Light. Flash bulb memories. Sabertoothed Tigers. Skulls. Dancing Bears. The Grateful Dead. Music. Mozart. Ives. Faure. Bach. The Beatles. The Band. Neal Crosby. Bob Dylan. Jefferson Airplane.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Surrealistic Pillow

Third day of exile from my blog. Little dot keeps going back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Usually solves itself, but not this time. So with extreme reluctance borne of many calls to technical assistance I broke down and called my webhost, Ionos. No joy. They haven’t called me back. Maybe they’re down? Frustrating.

I’ll be back when I can. It does like Ionos has had some problems. The whole server farm industry and its business model remains opaque to me. Yet this blog, the most consistent thing I’ve done over the last 17 years can’t be seen without it. I don’t know where on the planet they are, who runs Ionos, why they’re having trouble. I have a regular backup for my blog but it’s saved on Ionos, too.

On with them now. It’s a glitch on their end. My website is one of some still affected by a web programming issue.

Yesterday was a weird day. I got up achy, feeling crummy. Headache, muscle aches, general yechh. Got on the call with my Ancient Brothers and my check-in echoed that. When we were done talking about flash bulb memories, I felt better. My energy level had improved.

Still fatigued, but I could get stuff done. Loaded Ruby with the last of the donations from pruning mine and Kate’s things. Probably will be more, but that will require another pass that sits in priority well behind the kitchen, the loft, hanging art, even the outdoors.

With spring will come cleaning out the garage. Oddly, I was well underway with this task when Kate got sicker. It fell away from my attention. Over 3 years ago. It’s going back on the board. Power wash. Seal the concrete. Get rid of the old freezer. Eliminate clutter. Organize tools. That sorta thing. Look forward to it.

Energy level seems still improved. I hope this also clears up some of the brain fog I’ve been experiencing. The low stamina included intellectual work. I couldn’t read or think about one thing very long before I tired out. Didn’t like that. It can be an effect of hypothyroidism.

Got started with Ada Palmer’s Too Like Lightning. Amazing world building. She’s a professor at the University of Chicago which means very brainy. It shows. Her area is medieval and renaissance literature.

Feel oddly disconnected when I can’t post. Like there’s a core element of writing missing. You. I hope they hurry up and get this fixed. I only know a handful of my readers and I’ve communicated with them. But perhaps you I didn’t know read my blog. I hope you keep at it even after this caesura.

General

March 20

March 22, 2022 Charles Leave a comment

Spring and the Moon of Seoah’s Citizenship

Sunday gratefuls: Fatigue. New meds. Being alive. Feeling crummy. Kate, always. Spring. Yes. Rosh Chodesh. Men’s group at CBE. Sleep, good sleep. Those two or three hours of discomfort each afternoon. Psychological discomfort. Kep. Award Winning Pet Grooming. Marina Harris and her team. Cleaning the loft. Rich Levine. Alan Rubin.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Blue Colorado Sky

Ooof. Something’s off. So hard to tell what. Levothryoxine? New statin dose? Erleada acting up? Don’t think I’m sick. Got past that. Weaker yet. A bit woozy. Don’t feel rested after a good night’s sleep. I mean, dude! WTF? If this lasts into the week, I’m gonna see Kristine again. I see Eigner (oncologist) on April 4^th. Will be part of the discussion.

Tough to get stuff done. Tough to not get stuff done. Gosh, gee whillikers. Feeling like a bit of a mess right now. Don’t like it. Kate struggled a lot with the meds and therapies supposed to heal her or at least give her comfort. Getting a better idea of what she experienced.

Enough of that. Now onto the good news. It’s the Spring Equinox. Ostara. Easter bunnies. Dying and rising gods. Day and night on a roughly equal footing. Light beginning to stay with us longer. I’m usually reluctant to see Winter go. Not this year. Give me warmer weather, some flowers. Let me dance a jig on my back deck. (right now has a mound of snow about three feet high so it will be a while.) Migratory Birds. Fawns. Elk Calves. Kits. Moose Calves. Bear Cubs. Babies of all kinds. Life shows up in all its wonder.

Sure, a fallow season. Cold. Snow. Food in short supply. Beautiful. Yes. Necessary. Yes. But warmth and green Grass, flowing streams, Trees leafed out. Good, too.

I forgot to mention chocolate. Bunnies with their sweet little ears missing. Marshmallow chicks. Candy eggs. Hunting for eggs.

Easter. Passover. Pesach. Liberation. Defeating slavery. Defeating death. That’s all good stuff. This year? I’m leaning in to overuse this overused but helpful phrase.

I need a dash of resurrection, a soupçon of parting Red Sea. Give me that Moses’ staff. Roll away the stone in front of my energy. Let me race across the bottom of the Sea. I wanna see it fold in over Pharaoh’s soldiers. Even that was a Cecil B. DeMille’s thing.

The fertility of the Rabbit. The goddess Ostara mentioned in the venerable Bede’s The Reckoning of Time. General rollicking good fun along with all the serious death defeating and liberating going on.

Oh, boy do I need that energy. Big time. I image I’m not alone. It’s been a long Covid. Which, I think, made Winter even tougher for us temperate zone folks. For me it’s been a year filled with death and scrabbling to get hold of my own illness and its sometimes-ornery treatments. Then the hypothyroidism. I needed that. Though. If levothyroxine can return my energy level, then I’m glad we found it.

I’ll let you in on something occult. I always feel better after I right this. One of the reasons, I imagine, that I’ve stayed at it for over 17 years! Feel better now. Breakfast. Then, the Ancient Brothers consider Flashbulb memories.