Category Archives: Politics

Family, Health, Politics, Shadow Mountain, Sport

A bullet proof terrarium

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Mary and I watched an episode of Grace on Britbox. Stars John Sims, a favorite of hers from the mind-twisting, post-modern Life on Mars.

She made a list of cleaning supplies. I ordered them and Melissa will pick them up. Not sure what she means to clean since she’s done nothing else for the last few days. But, go Mary.

 

So the Toad Prince glared out of his bullet-proof terrarium as the Spurs extended the finals by beating the Knicks in the Garden. Didn’t protect him from the boos.

 

Meanwhile on Shadow Mountain I grow a bit stronger each day. First working session of PT today. Looking forward to gradually regaining some strength. OT on Thursday.

Ruth’s coming up today. Her surgery is tomorrow. It will shorten her too long ulna which has caused her a lot of pain. This past weekend she returned from her week long stint as a camp counselor in Wasilla, Alaska. A camp for hemophiliacs.

Shadow loves the sunny, low-70s days. Lounging. Barking at intruders. Coming in only to go back out.

 

 

Dogs, Family, Health, Politics, Shadow Mountain

Abe wept

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Looks as though winter has given way to summer, transiting from low 40’s night time to high 50’s. Spring sprang, retreated, and never returned. The vagaries of climate-change inflected mountain weather.

Mary continues her clean sweep (literally) of all my cabinets. Madam librarian brings order out of kitchen chaos. I have not yet seen her work. Soon.

Meanwhile my muster dog goes out and in, in and out. She’s a sweet presence in my life, affectionate and mostly calm.

Have now completed the length of my driveway and back. Ready for my appointment. I’ll walk in. Walk to the phlebotomist and to Christina’s office. Oh, yeah!

The angle of my recovery has increased a bit, gains coming faster. A virtuous circle of eat more, do more, eat more. May it continue.

In my day (ha) Gillette sponsored fight night. Now its POTUS. With ceremonial weigh-ins at the Lincoln Memorial. Jesus and Abe wept.

Family, Fourth Phase, Health, Politics

The Toad Prince

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Mary. Cleaning. Culling. Making breakfast, a snack basket.  Helping with Shadow. Helping me with workouts. Kind. Good to have family here. Links to the past and the future.

She expressed surprise when I told her mom wanted me to read only Tarzan comic books. “But mom was so open minded.” Not when I was seven, eight.

While we’re approaching the Summer Solstice, Melbourne is well into fall. Headed toward the Winter Solstice. Down under.

Liz, occupational therapist, came yesterday. Bubbly, easy to talk to. Both she and Carol, p.t., had to do assessments. Then submit those to United health, see how many sessions they will allow. Work with both of them starts next week.

With Mary alongside I’m walking unaided on the driveway. A little further each day. Feels good. Challenging. Small workouts start today. Legs.

I can feel the progress, slow though it may be.

 

Meanwhile the Toad Prince dreams of a Trump promenade. Talks of leaving the UFC platform on the Whitehouse lawn. Like the French did with the Eiffel Tower. What a strange man.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Family, Health, Politics, Shadow Mountain

Mary. Dopy.

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Shadow has had her breakfast. Mary’s awake. Shadow Mountain coming into the morning.

Mary got a lift with a car service. Arrived around 5:30, looking fancy. She came bearing a delicious meal with prosciutto, cheese, and crackers. We ate as we discussed her trip so far. She has an open ticket, can stay as long she wants. She’s come to help in any way she can.

Carol, my physical therapist from Mt. Evans, talked me into trying a cervical collar. It will provide support, help me with the strain on my back from the head drop. Not sure about it, but the soft collar was not working.

Weather continues cool and rainy. Good sleeping last night.

I think eating regular meals has begun to help. I can walk a bit further, don’t feel as tired. Stopping the abiraterone and the prednisone helped, too. Feeling confident.

Meanwhile in Dopyland. The war. Iran. Over so fast. Not. Cease fire? Not so much. Dopy hits them. They hit back. Federal Housing Finance Director makes next logical career move to acting director of National Intelligence. More pics of Trump vanity project, the Triumphal Arch. Oh, boy.

Best headline about Trump. Ever. Goes to Brett Stephens for: President Ozymandias.

 

Family, Friends, Politics

Friends. Family. Dopy.

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Luke came up, his faithful dog Leo with him. Leo is a large dog and is 13 years old. He lowers himself to the ground in stages, doesn’t play as much. Still the sweet boy he’s always been.

Laundry day for Luke. He spent almost five hours washing, drying, and folding. His apartment’s laundry puts lint on to the clothing.

We talk, Luke and I. Of Judaism, the synagogue, his ongoing work combining Hebrew, Chemistry, and Kabbalah. Of why didn’t the community college rehire him? Of his new focus on high school chemistry positions. Of family, his and mine. Friends.

Gabe meant to come up yesterday. However. He and Levi tried to reach the summit at Hell’s Hole outside of Idaho Springs. Gabe overdid it. Was too late by the time they slowly finished their hike.

Sister Mary arrives today. All the way from down under, mate. Good on’er. Well not really. She made a trip to Minneapolis and Eau Claire first. A two hour flight from Minneapolis. Will be so good to see her.

Today I start trying to get in good enough shape to receive my second infusion, stay in the trial. I know how to work out, just not how to do it from this depleted state. 10 am.

Dopy Don must feel the quicksand rising. Iran lobs a missile at U.S. forces in Kuwait. Threatens to pull out of peace talks. Dopy’s reaction? Couldn’t care less. The negotiations are very boring. The sort of stance I look for in the leader of a country at war. Can’t be bothered.

 

Fourth Phase, Friends, Greenhouse, Memories, Politics, Shadow Mountain, US History

Decoration Day

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Shabbat. Melissa came, drove Ruby to Mangy Moose Trail, and picked up my six heirloom tomato plants. Healthy and strong, straight out of the Heirloom Tomato Farm greenhouse.

Not sure if they’re gonna live. My heater didn’t keep them warm enough last night. 47 degrees. Way too cold for tomatoes. I’ll have to check on them today. A long walk in my current weakened condition. I do have the Inogen charged so I can carry my O2 concentrator.

If they’re ok, I’ll give them a drink. Artemis drawing me into movement. A good thing.

Janice planted the tomatoes. Coming back in occasionally with pictures. Sweet of her to do that.

Ginny, her partner, helped with thin skin wound treatment. She’s a nurse. And an opera singer. And a theater director. And a student of Torah and mussar.

Monday entry

Tanks wrinkling hot asphalt. Last year’s homecoming queen riding on the back of the realtor’s Cadillac convertible. The color guard wearing uniforms that fit them long ago, now bulging, showing a bit of white skin.

The Decoration Day parade in Alexandria. We waved tiny flags and cheered the baton twirlers. The whole town lined Harrison street, baby boomers like me still in elementary school.

The official start of summer. The pool in Beulah Park opened. I still remember the small pool of chlorine laced water we all had to step in before we could enter the swimming pool itself.

I skipped the long speeches and decorating of veterans graves. Pretty boring for an eight year old.

Long after I left Alexandria, Decoration Day became Memorial Day and shifted in time from May 30th to the last Monday in May. In my mind Memoria Day remains on May 30th as does the annual running of the Indianapolis 500. I still occasionally miss the Indy 500 for this reason.

School ended the week before Memorial Day and began again the day after Labor Day. It shocked me to learn that schools in Colorado routinely begin in mid-August. Seems cruel and unusual.

 

Dopy struggles his way toward a deal with the Iranians. Number one? Opening the Straits of Hormuz. Which weren’t an issue until we invaded. So Dopy brokers deal to solve a problem he created, one which was never listed as a war aim. Go, Team America!

 

Dogs, Fourth Phase, Friends, Garden, Greenhouse, Health, Politics, Shadow Mountain

Heirloom

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Today is a red vegetable day. I get my heirloom tomato plants from the Heirloom Tomato Farm. Rather, Melissa will get them for me. Still not up to an outing.

Gotta plug in the heater, warm up the greenhouse. 39 degrees, this morning’s temp, is way too cold for tomatoes. Ginny and Janice will get them planted today. Still pretty chilly through the next week though not this cool.

My Minnesota preference for cold weather now gives way to my gardener’s sensibility. Bring on the Beltane heat. Well, at least Beltane warmth. My mini-splits stand ready to cool the house if need be.

Tara came yesterday with Eleanor. Even though Eleanor’s twice plus her size Shadow initiates most of the rough and tumble, jumping up toward Eleanor’s front, paws out, all let’s play, let’s play, let’s play! They wear each other out.

Tara has worked hard between benai mitzvah classes on Zoom on the complicated logistics of their move to Costa Rica. Dog crates. Getting the house ready to rent. Selling, donating, throwing away decades of accumulated stuff. A lot.

The new microwave is here, ready to go on top of the small fridge. I’ll be able to retrieve my meals and warm them up without having to go upstairs. My recovery depends on two pillars: more and regular meals, a return to some level of exercise. Calories and protein, movement.

My recovery is in stasis right now. Not regressing, but not much forward movement either. There is this. As my body has healed, my mood and attitude have followed. I’m wanting to live, not just exist. Adjusting to my new reality requires challenging myself physically. Not there yet.

Hey, anybody heard about the Straits of Hormuz? How about that slush fund for insurrectionists? What? You’re focused on that “triumphal” arch? Me, I’m wondering if Wemby’s Spurs can takeout the Thunder.

 

Health, Politics, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate

A Good Day

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Yesterday. Felt like my old self. Agency, interest. Made calls. Ordered a new pillow and dog treats for Shadow. First time for a few weeks I’ve had some zip. Didn’t change, of course, my weakened physical condition, but I felt clear, my whole person awake and alert.

That does mean, too, that I’ve not felt that way for over five weeks. Tough to remain resilient when I can’t summon the mental energy to make phone calls.

Today I’ve reverted to the clouded, weary headspace. Writing this feels difficult, takes energy to type. Even so, a good day means I have that in me, still. As I eat more, get back to p.t., more will come.

Sent an e-mail to Jeffco courts. Sorry, I’m not able to be a juror. Confirmed by letter from Sue Bradshaw. I like jury duty. An important aspect of our democracy. Which I hold dear.

Three more cool nights then spring will break out on Shadow Mountain. We’ve had a saving round of precipitation in May. Unexpected and delightful. Also, a bit of winter in the year with no winter.

 

Meanwhile back in Dopy Don’s alternate universe $1.8 billion dollars awaits deserving applicants like those who suffered the federal governments successful prosecution over participation in the January 6th insurrection. Makes my head spin. Even the fund itself is shady. Everything Dopy Don touches has an immediate stench.

 

Cooking, Fourth Phase, Health, Politics, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate

A Permanent Hall Pass

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Our winter in spring continues with a white blanket of snow and freezing temps. Weird. But nice. Warming toward the end of the week.

Melissa came. I took a two hour nap so she cooked and did laundry. We’ll get to the decluttering on Friday. Pleased with her. Her food makes life better for me.

I continue to coast on a plateau, feeling much better than the last four weeks, yet not seeing gains beyond that. My referrals for in-home p.t. and o.t. have not been acted  on. Eventually. That’s when I expect further progress.

Included now among Dopy Don’s presidential perks: a permanent hall pass from the I.R.S. Allows the holder to have no peaking at their returns. Why would an honest taxpayer need this? Exactly.

The fleecing of the USA. Courtesy of, your President.

Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Judaism, Politics, Shadow Mountain, US History

UFC Freedom 250

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May winter. 35 degrees this am. Rain. A chilly, somewhat wet week ahead. A delight with cool nights. As if May knew what we’d missed and decided to make up for winter’s puny showing.

My good friend Tom’s visit is over today. Back to Minnesota. When he comes, we talk of matters both profound and humorous. Tom and I have been Woollies for the same amount of time, ritually welcomed together at Valhelga. Old friends.

He remarked yesterday on the strong bonds Kate and I formed with others at Congregation Beth Evergreen. Moving the fridge. Alan’s cinnamon rolls. Tara’s visits with Eleanor. Ginny and Janice including me in their family. Rich. Jamie. Part Judaism. Part the folks we got close to.

Thinking over my fall. Believe I might have briefly passed out from the hypotension. Probably triggered the fall. I’ve made modifications including sitting on the edge of the bed before I get up. Helps.

I’m at another hinge point. I need some p.t., some other help or I’m on a downward slope. The actinium trial is my last stand. If it doesn’t produce good results, I don’t imagine I’ll sign up for any more treatments. Too tired. Too weary of the fuss and bother. I suppose hospice would make sense then.

This trial is far from over. I’ve had one treatment out of eight. No telling results till number 4 or so. It may yet yield lowering of my PSA and my tumor burden. We’ll see.

This is, for me at least, not bad news. I accept where I am, what the situation is. No life goes on forever.

An NYT journalist went to four Chinese cities during the recent Trump visit and asked residents what they thought of Dopy Don. “Brutal” and “Unfriendly” lead their answers. I read this article, then turned on my TV to a Paramount ad for a major UFC event. Clips featured MMA fighters kicking each other in the head, punching and grappling. UFC Freedom 250. Location? The Whitehouse! June 14th.

Brutal. Unfriendly. Not to mention embarrassing.