Category Archives: Politics

Dogs, Friends, Greenhouse, Politics, Wild Neighbors, World History

A Sad Man

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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.

Asia, Dogs, Politics, Seed Keepers, US History, World History

Seed Keepers

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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.

Aging, Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Garden, Greenhouse, Health, Politics, US History, World History

Embarrassed to Admit

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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.

 

Dogs, Fourth Phase, Health, Judaism, Politics

It’s Survivable

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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.

 

Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Politics

Recognize the Good. And, the Bad

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Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Shadow, eater of window cranks. My son and his first week in his new job. Seoah working on the family farm. Guess who’s coming to America: the Jangs! Aug. 1-7. The Morning Service. SPRINT.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Canes

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: Days of needed rest after a couple of weeks in this machine, then another, seeing this doctor, then another, driving with a left hip that would rather complain than be helpful, days of leaning into positive news, good news, feeling relief, joy, satisfaction, shabbat for sure, these days of awe.

 

Pain/Cancer coda: In the day after my news I owned a conflation I’d made. A putting together, even though conjectural, of my back and hip pain and my cancer. Natural since my oncologist wanted the MRI to see if I had new cancer in my hips.

However. It also meant that with each twinge of pain from my back and legs a secondary specter emerged. My cancer had spread, gone to the bone, and I was in for a long, slow miserable death. I didn’t believe this. But I couldn’t not believe it either.

I know correlation is not causation, but sometimes, when the pain comes from the same region where my cancer originated, for example, it’s hard to suspend a conclusion, to not skip right ahead to the obvious.

Now that I know this is not the case, thanks to the imaging, I feel much lighter, as if I have life ahead of me rather than endurance and suffering. Facts, contrary to the current political zeitgeist, can set us free.

Thank you for listening over these last few weeks.

 

Just a moment: Crushing Latinos and allies protesting draconian immigration enforcement. Using the National Guard under a law allowing the President to deploy them to quell rebellion.

Here’s a direct quote from an NYT article:

“Mr. Trump’s directive said, “To the extent that protests or acts of violence directly inhibit the execution of the laws, they constitute a form of rebellion against the authority of the Government of the United States.”” NYT

Read that again. If a protest blocks a street, diverts traffic, or should, say, walk on both lanes of a bridge outside Selma, Alabama that can be considered an act of rebellion.

This is not a President enforcing Civil Rights laws; no, this is a President holding the fire hose with Bull O’Connor, standing on the steps of the Alabama capital with George Wallace, holding an axe handle with Lester Maddox.

This is the same as using faux actions against anti-Semitism to punish East Coast Universities.

Orwell called it double-speak. It is real and may be coming to a town or an issue near you.

 

Here’s another quote from the same pages of the NYT: “Southern Baptists plan to vote this week on acting to overturn Obergefell v. Hodges, the Supreme Court ruling that legalized gay marriage 10 years ago this month.” NYT

Jesus Christ. WWJD. Come on. Let’s explore that great commandment: Love your neighbor as you love yourself. Of course, what’s on display here really is a group of folks who cannot love themselves due to all the guilt wanting to take love from people who don’t feel guilty for who they are. Put that in your DEI pipe.

 

 

 

 

Dogs, Garden, Great Wheel, Greenhouse, Health, Politics

Godzilla v Mothra

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Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Friday gratefuls: Irv, Tom. New Human Consciousness. Halle. Hip and leg pain. Exquisite. Kylie today. Taylor today. Natalie today. Alan today. Shabbat this evening. Shadow, chewer of duvets. Sweet morning girl. Tara. Susan. Diane. Morning darkness.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Information

Week Kavannah: Shleimut. Wholeness and Peacefulness.

One brief shining: Rain and slow delivery of plastic foundation tiles has delayed the construction of the greenhouse, but I’m ok with that since it will be a slow project, maybe flowers more than vegetables this year, not sure what the later planting schedules can yield.

 

Greenhouse: Nathan asked me a week ago if I would prefer plastic foundation tiles, better for water runoff in Spring. Sure, I said. He didn’t know then that the delivery of these tiles would not happen until this evening. He’s very apologetic, going to cut me a break on labor at the end of the project. Things like filling my raised beds with soil. Kind of him

The delayed construction has drained some of my enthusiasm for the project, though I imagine once the construction gets going that will return. Besides, it’s a long haul project. Once it’s up the fun begins.

Next week Nathan will have a helper and he’s done a lot of precutting so the greenhouse will go up fast.

 

Dog journal: During my nap yesterday Shadow jumped up on the bed, lay with her head on my legs, and slept. Such a sweet moment. With her willingness to hug me and get hugged back, her greater ease with the threshold (far from resolved), and her willingness to be on a leash, we’ve moved into new territory.

Of course. While on the bed, she did rip my duvet, allowing goose feathers to escape. Buying cloth tape to fix it. No sense being elaborate since she’ll probably do it again. Gonna buy new bedroom stuff from carpet to bed to nightstand after she finds her maturity.

Shadow has also mastered the stairs to the main level. She’s up there right now while I write on the lower level. Wonder what she’s doing?

 

Health: A significant Friday morning. Taylor, Dr. Buphati’s P.A., (oh, Shadow just came back down) will tell me the results of my MRI and my PET scan. As usual, my anxiety titer hits its peak about now. Do I have many more metastases? Is there cancer in my hip joint? And if so, what happens next?

That’s at 8:30. Then, at 9:40 I see Kylie to get slipstreamed into the medical process again, this time for the SPRINT neurostimulator device implantation. My life would be better if my pain were less.

 

Just a moment: Aw. The Donald and the African-American coming to blows. Elon’s intelligence and his libertarian revulsion toward government bonded with Trump’s Revenge and Chaos tour. Result? Madness.

Now Trump’s willingness to do whatever he wants whenever he wants with no underlying rationale other than personal animus and a narcissistic belief that any thought passing through his mind is big and beautiful has clashed with Musk’s libertarian, tear it all down and don’t let it get back up sensibility. This is a perverted form of ideological logic versus irrationality. Will not end well. For any party affected. Including the U.S.

Dogs, Health, Politics, US History

The Shepherd’s Lantern

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Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Morning service. Morning darkness. The bird of dawn. Setting people free. Making firm our steps. Shadow at 4:30 am. Happy. A chilly night. JD, man of ambition. Shepherd’s lantern. Ukraine’s drones. The lives of simple people. Of angry people. Of cautious people. Of wise people.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: White tip of the herding dog’s tail.

Week Kavannah: Wholeness and Peacefulness. Shleimut. Integrating pain into my daily life. Accepting it all and being grateful for it.

One brief shining: Drove down the hill through the Front Range Foothills, geology and orogeny on display, small cliffs of Granite, pink and black Gneiss, made more beautiful by the Rain, Lodgepoles, White Pines, Ponderosas, and Aspens on Mountain sides, Grass greened by the Rains, Hwy 285 cutting its steep decline toward the High Plains which appear beyond the Hogbacks, evidence of an orogeny older than the one that pushed the Rockies up above, both demonstrating the power of continental drift, great sheets of Rock moving; slow, but unrelenting force, enough to remake our world.

 

Back pain and cancer: Last week and this there has been a flurry of activity around these two. P.T. MRIs. Oncology appointment. PET scan today. Another oncology telehealth on Friday am. Pain doc appointment on Friday, too.

Pain doc prepping me for the SPRINT device. Oncologist letting me know the MRI and the PET scan results.

These two are unrelated pathologically; however, they entwine thanks to lower back and leg pain occurring where prostate cancer tends to spread. They also entwine when the back/leg pain chips away at my resilience. Takes work to stay level.

Ready in both instances for whatever comes next.

 

Dog journal: I walked Shadow on a leash yesterday. All was well until the leash snagged a downed Lodgepole branch. Shadow thought the branch had begun to chase her. Natalie had me drop the leash.

Shadow ran inside the house, next to my chair. When pushed, next to my chair is her safe spot. Good to know.

I got Shadow on February 4th, four months ago tomorrow. She’s been a challenge. At times I’ve wondered if I could follow through. Today though I have no doubt. As I wrote earlier, her story and mine will be told together.

The Shepherd’s Lantern. I couldn’t find Shadow in the yard when Natalie came. Then, I spotted Shadow’s tail, held erect, obvious by its white tip. “That’s the Shepherd’s Lantern,” Natalie said, “I only learned this a couple of weeks ago.” Check herding breeds. White tipped tails are common.

 

Just a moment: My friends talk of news diets. Of putting down the podcast. Turning off the TV. Not even reading headlines, much less stories. I sense this is more intention than action.

Why? We’re taught, aren’t we, that staying up with the news is critical for a citizen of a democracy. Civics 101. Yet what to do when the news singes your eyeballs. Boils the blood. Clenches the fist. Engenders feelings of helplessness.

My hunch is that only action can really work. What kind of action? Depends on you. What you’re willing/able to do. However. We cannot abdicate our role, however small it might be. Our history has more years, more elections to play out and we must prepare the way.

 

 

 

Boulder, Colorado, Family, Judaism, Politics, US History, World History

It’s Personal

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Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Monday gratefuls: Buphati. MRI results. The Ancient Brothers. Shadow. Water. Food. Natalie. Tom. The Happy Camper. Driving, painful. Ruth in Alaska. Mary in Seoul. Guru in K.L. Me on Shadow Mountain. Great Sol. The bird of morning. BJ. Pammy. Gabe. Family, flung far.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Books

Week Kavannah: Wholeness and Peacefulness. Shleimut. Integrating pain into my daily life.

One brief shining: The greenhouse has more than plants and memories; it will be therapy and prayer, too, an everyday exercise in tactile spirituality, joining with the evolved life of plants in an act of co-creating abundance: Lettuce in a bowl with dark red Brandywine heirloom Tomatoes, rings of Red Onion, a diced orange Nantes Carrot, not yet, no, but soon.

 

Judaism in trouble:

Front page news from Boulder. A fiery assault on demonstrators bringing attention to hostages still held by Hamas. This apparently not Nazi nostalgia, but Palestinian weariness with the long, long war and its murderous execution.

Not only Boulder, but the home of UC-Boulder, Ruth’s university.

You may recall that my conversion was to have taken place in Jerusalem, October 31st if I recall correctly. That pleased me because it married my pagan observance of Samain with my immersion in an ancient mikveh in the holy city.

You do recall, I’m sure, why it didn’t happen. On October 7th, Hamas attacked kibbutzim near the border with Gaza, killing and raping as they went. A horrific act of terror. Really, a brazen pull on the nose-ring of militant Israelis.

For many dark reasons, Israel stepped into the trap Hamas had made. Netanyahu needed to avoid corruption charges. A never-to-be-realized war aim of eliminating Hamas. Frustration with continued anti-semitic activity by Iranian supported actors like Hamas, Hezbollah, and the Houthis. The out of proportion political influence of the Jewish ultra-right in Israel that wants genocide. The perilous location of Israel.

The Israeli Defense Force (IDF) continues to pound Gaza, killing civilians, civilians, because Hamas hides among them. Many (most?) of us who love Israel as a needed safe place for Jews long ago stepped away from support of this “war.”

The immorality of bombing starving women and children. Using up whatever goodwill Israel had accumulated. Being tone deaf to the world’s critique. Bad, sad days for all.

No wonder the anger and frustration has spilled over into the U.S. No wonder, too, that this same anger and frustration has served as fuel for the alt-right with its white supremacist views, its Hitlerian hagiographies, and not only them, but American Muslims, college students who see an asymmetrical war, politicians who want any lever they can find to bring the East Coast elites to heel.

In the same ugly way that testosterone feeds prostate cancer, the war over Gaza feeds hatred and bigotry all over the world. We will all be poorer when it ends.

Boulder is an hour from Shadow Mountain. I’ve been there many times over the last year plus for breakfast or lunch with Ruth. She’s a Jewish student in a time when Jews, again, are persona non grata.

This attack was not something I read about. It’s personal.

 

Commentary on Religion, Dogs, Health, Humanities, Judaism, Kabbalah, Literature, Myth and Story, Politics, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Science, Torah

This Is Not the Way

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Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Sunday gratefuls: A day of no-things. Shadow and I outside, drop, walk, stop, drop, turn, walk, drop. Her eagerness. Her five o’clock licking. Sciatica. Morning darkness. The morning service. The Shema. Tara. Ruth, home two days ago, leaving for Alaska today. Gabe, now a senior. Whoa. Mary in Seoul. Seoah, Murdoch. My son. Mark walks to downtown Al Kharj. Shadow Mountain.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: MRI

Week Kavannah: Wholeness and Peacefulness. Shleimut. Integrating pain into my daily life.

One brief shining: Sorry, Marines, pain is not weakness leaving the body, no; but, it is a constant reminder of being alive, of still having a body that can identify itself through the jolt that starts in the hip, gathers intensity around the knee, and on occasion flashes to the foot.

 

Back and cancer: Get MRI results tomorrow. Buphati at 3 pm. On Friday I see Kylie my Army officer retired P.A. for preparation. I have a SPRINT device in my future. The bogo MRI. Checking for cancer and readying me for a pain reduction, elimination procedure. Rare confluence of medical care.

Ouch, ouch, ouch. ouch. Sciatica is a son of a bitch. Above 10. A crescendo, then a falling away. I. Do. Not. Like. It.

If the SPRINT device works, I will send up hallelujahs in the name of its inventor, Kylie, and the doctor who installs it. If it doesn’t? I’m no worse off than before. Probably nerve ablation.

If there’s cancer in my hip? Don’t know. But Buphati will have things to recommend, I know.

 

Reading: I’m on a run of science fiction and magic. John Scalzi’s Starter Villain and Kaiju Preservation Society. Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files. The Gray Man and Daniel Silva set aside for the moment.

My serious reading of late has been for my two Kabbalah Experience classes. A New Story for Human Consciousness and the Radical Roots of Religion. The first, learning to retell, reimagine the story of Adam and Eve. And, in so doing, realizing we can reframe, reconstruct any story, including the one we tell ourselves about who we are in this world.

The second investigating moments when Judaism received a radical refit. Focused on Mordecai Kaplan, Abraham Joshua Heschel, Reb Zalman, and Art Green, but looking backward to Maimonides, the Bal Shem Tov, the destruction of the second Temple and the rise of Rabbinic Judaism.

I’m excited about these classes. I want to retell the story of Adam and Eve. Maybe my own story, too. Most of all I’m excited about considering what the next revolution might be in Judaism, imagining it, perhaps helping to build it.

 

Just a moment: Whoo, boy. We’ve crossed over and I didn’t really get it until I read this paragraph in an article titled: “Why Trump’s push for ‘gold-standard science’ has researchers alarmed.”*

Crossed over to what? An age of ideology, a time when political thought, doled out by political commissars, trumps (see what I did there?) decision making for any other reason.

This is a direct route to a Stalinesque, Mao Tse Tungesque form of governance. It is, as George Will observed in his strange opinion piece about Trump as a progressive, a form of Statism.

I admit I’m an Enlightenment, scientific method guy. But. I know that science does not occur in a political vacuum. Its funding, its direction, even its focus often has political influence. Look, for example, to the Agricultural and Mechanical universities dotted around the U.S. and delivering junk methods to farmers that kill the soil and enrich Big Ag.

Even so. I support science and the scientific endeavor to understand, to grasp the world around us as it is, not as we either imagine or wish it to be. No political commissar will know scientific facts better than scientists themselves.

I do agree with one facet of this critique of science, however. Many Americans have lost faith in science and we need, as a country, to help restore it. This is not the way.

 

 

 

” “And in a “Gold Standard Science” executive order last week, President Donald Trump outlined a new level of oversight over what counts as quality evidence and what does not, (emphasis mine) putting “a senior appointee designated by the agency head” in charge of overseeing “alleged violations.” Michael Kratsios, director of the White House Office of Science and Technology Policy, said in a briefing that the goal of the executive order is to “rebuild the American people’s confidence in the national science enterprise … the status quo of our research enterprise has brought diminishing returns, wasted resources and public distrust.”” Washington Post, June 1, 2025.

Dogs, Greenhouse, Politics

Companions and Co-Workers

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Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Shadow. Hugging, wiggling, kissing. Rain. The possibility of a dry June followed by July, August, September with the monsoons. Plastic pavers with gravel. The foundation for the greenhouse. Nathan. Tara. Open-sided MRI. P.T. exercises with mild zerizut. Natalie. Another harness. Ruth in Seoul. Ruth ensouled. Leaflets on the Aspen. Anthers proud, ready for Wind born pollination on the Lodgepoles. The Willows along Maxwell Creek changed from yellow to chartreuse. Maxwell Creek flashing, running with the Water from recent Rain. The Mountains in Spring.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Wildflowers beside Black Mountain Drive, Brook Forest Drive

Week Kavannah: Zerizut. Enthusiasm for p.t. and resistance

Another example

One brief shining: Nathan has had a trucking company, Heeler Trucking, named after his red Heeler’s breed, been a handyman, and now owns Colorado Coop and Garden, a bespoke construction company for the Mountain dweller wanting to raise Chickens or grow a few Vegetables.

 

Dog Journal: Natalie, my current dog trainer, started out working with her Dad, with Horses. Horses, however, bite, kick, and run at you. Plus, as Natalie said the other day, as prey Animals, they run first, second, and third. And as herd Animals their safety is in fight or flight, not cunning.

Dogs are different. As predators, thinking and cunning have to be part of the equipment. Hence, they’re much smarter than Horses. Since nobody calls in a trainer for a pliable Dog or Horse, the much more pleasant work is with Dogs.

Right at the top of the Doggy intelligence ladder are herding Dogs who must anticipate and shape the behavior of herd Animals, especially sheep and cattle. In a different vein are the sight hounds, Irish Wolfhounds, Whippets, Greyhounds, Borzoi. They hunt prey on their own. Their intelligence requires little about their interactions with humans. I imagine the same thing is true of Terriers.

Dogs and humans. Friends and companions since friendly Wolves partnered with hunter/gatherers for warmth, love, and to share the hunt for food. We now belong together though our mutual understanding has weakened, at least on the part of humans, as work and sustenance has diminished as an important part of the bond.

Pets are not coworkers. They’re, well, pets. As a result, humans, most humans, have lost their keen sensitivity to the needs, moods, and communication ways of Dogs. Yet Dogs have not lost their heightened awareness of human behavior since they are dependent now on them for food, Water, and shelter. A gap has opened up between humans and their companion animals. We need folks like Natalie who go back into the old days of human/dog relationships and recover modes of communications lost in the transition.

 

Just a moment: George Will, a bright crisp writer, often funny, even though I rarely agree with him, has an extraordinary column in yesterday’s Washington Post: The Trump administration is pure progressivism in action. In it he gives his 9 core principles of progressivism and outlines why he believes the Trump Administration is the ne plus ultra of all progressive presidencies. Worth a read.