Category Archives: Friends

Is it too late?

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Rebecca. Terry. Joanne. Coal Mine Dragon Chinese Restaurant. Lake Evergreen. A golden Sunset. Elk Cow headed to the library. Marny Eulberg. Post-Polio Syndrome. Mussar. Luke. His new job. Alan and the Wildflower. Veronica on the Pacific Crest Trail. Tom. Roxann. Sylvan. The Pacific Northwest. Alaska.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: A Western Sunset

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Hakarat Hatov. Recognizing the good.

Tarot: The Stag. #8 of the major arcana. Guardian of the Forest: The Stag is a powerful symbol of the forest, embodying strength, dignity, and a connection to nature’s wisdom

One brief shining: Terry, who has lived in Evergreen since it had all dirt roads, Joanne, who owns 27 acres of land overlooking the Continental Divide, Rebecca, who on September 16th goes again to a Tibetan Buddhist nunnery near Dharamsala for four months, and I ordered Drunken Noodles, Shrimp dishes with Chinese Vegetables while discussing whether we’re in a pre-holocaust time in the U.S.

 

Judaism: The conversations grow more prevalent. Should we leave? Joanne knows several who have gone, fearing the next ICE sweep will be for Jews. After they’ve sated themselves on Mexicans, Central Americans, and any other poor bastards they can round up.

Joanne wondered whether the goyim, any of them, feel this sense of disease about their personal safety. “Or, is it just us. The after the holocaust generation of Jews?”

My sense is that no, the goyim do not feel the same sense of personal peril as Jews. Though some groups, like LGBT folks and some naturalized citizens do. That’s not to say they don’t fear the future (and immediate) impacts of Dictator Donald. Those on the liberal side of the equation. Yet their talk about leaving the country hangs more on distaste, on no longer wanting to be identified with a cryptofascist version of the nation they once loved. Not on worries about Alligator Alcatraz being used on them.

All three of us Joanne, Rebecca and me (Terry is not a Jew.) agreed we were too old to leave. Joanne hopes her sell by date comes up before things go that far. I’m banking on Colorado and the Mountains. Rebecca, if the worst appears on the horizon, could flee to the nunnery, but she faces visa issues there. So we may eat our last meal together at the Coal Mine Dragon Restaurant.

 

Tarot: The Stag. Emphasizing connection to natural wisdom. To the truth that no matter what trivial politics come and go, Mother Earth will be the final arbiter of our case. She will not hesitate to scrub us off Her Lands if we continue to insult Her and Her Atmosphere.

She metes out a certain justice, one that considers the good of all more important than that of any one species. No forgiveness. No mercy. Rising Tides. Powerful Storms. Blazing Heat. We all sit at Her judgment seat.

The Stag says, heed Her before it is too late. And so do I.

Ways Forward

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Waning gibbous Moon. Morning Darkness. Shadow. Father of Shadows. Great Sol. Artemis and her children. Heirloom Vegetables. Raised beds. Co-creation. Gardening. Kate, always Kate. Bee keeping. The Atmosphere. The Troposphere. Space. The International Space Station. The Hubble. The Web. Exoplanets. Distant Suns. Galaxies. Black Holes.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shadows

Year Kavannah: Wu wei

Week Kavannah:  Hakarat Hatov. Recognizing the Good

Tarot: The Seer, #2

One brief shining: The boiler turns itself on, feeding hot Water into the hot Water tank while open windows let cool Air flow in and over my chair, my feet the chair chosen by Kate supporting me while I write.

 

Hakarat Hatov: Recognizing the good. Luke’s joy at getting an associate Professorship in Chemistry. His care for Leo. Rabbi Jamie’s creative teaching. Tom’s quiet confidence. Ode’s sketchbooks. Bill’s everyday kindnesses. Paul’s serious joy.

As Paul said on Sunday, if we seek Hakarat Hatov, goodness abounds in everyday life, no matter the bitter and ugly transformation of our government. Too easy to focus on the doom, let ourselves fall into despair. Don’t ignore it, no, but also recognize the ordinary good all around.

 

Just a moment: A way forward. Storm Before the Calm by George Friedman. Amy, my audiologist, echoing a similar idea. She knows folks she said, progressives, who want to return to the Obama era. No, she says, MAGA has revealed too many cracks (her word. I might go with chasms, abysses.) in the U.S. There’s no going back Amy went on. What we have to do is survive these years, then build something new, something that takes into account the MAGA reveals.

I agree with her and with Friedman. The excesses of the Gilded Age, which Trump apparently has in mind, led to the progressive era of Teddy Roosevelt, the trust buster.

Or, we could also call this late stage capitalism wherein the oligarchs gather so much money unto themselves that the rest of us have too little to power the consumer economy.

Greed cometh before a fall. As Gordon Gecko showed us.

 

Learning: Higher education and in particular the Humanities have suffered hit after hit as the conservative mortar crews have begun to walk in their ordnance, finding the bunkers and trenches of Renaissance and Enlightenment thought with their “anti-semitic” coded explosives.

I no longer fear the elimination of Humanities courses. Why? Because Thucydides and Beowulf and O’Neil and Whitehead and Mozart and Caravaggio do not live in the academy. They live in those who seek to understand their own humanity, the ways forward when faced with a culture shattered by avarice and base fears.

We and mine will still read the Iliad to understand how one man’s rage can cost the lives of thousands, even millions with today’s WMDs. We will also return to multiple perspectives as modeled by Impressionist, Expressionist, Abstract, and Realist painters and sculptors. We will embrace a world characterized by the metaphysics of becoming, of a One always in process, over the split apart world of Cartesian metaphysics.

The Humanities will not, cannot disappear because they are us at our best, self critical. learning from the vast deposit of human lives already lived.

 

Renewing my lease

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: United flight 806. An hour out of San Francisco. United flight 1702 to Denver. Cool night. Rain. The Monsoons. Shadow out at 3 am. Now inside and hungry. Family. Friends. Alan and his Hawaiian shirt. The Bread Lounge. Artemis and her beds. Shadow Mountain high.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: My son and Seoah here tonight.

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Ahavah. Love.

Tarot:  The Pole Star. #17*  What do the cards have to say to me today?

One brief shining: According to Flight Tracker United 806 has crossed the wide Pacific to within 46 minutes of San Francisco and the continental U.S., bearing within itself loved ones from far away Korea, all seated near each other some old, some young, all on an adventure of a lifetime for the Jang family of Okgwa.

 

Artemis: Had to rig a twine support for another fast growing Tomato Stalk. Will have to do more once Fruiting starts, heavy. I’m ready. I have Tomato metal and plastic supports, more twine.

Nathan comes today to finish work on Artemis. He’ll be tidying up electrical cords, adding cold frames, lapping the Cedar shakes. If he thinks it will work, he may also drill holes in the hail protection overlap from the greenhouse roof. My idea. Let some rain through while still blocking hail.

Together we’ll have to come up with some solution for irrigation on the east facing raised bed. All in the process of learning how to make Artemis function best. This is a shake-down season. Though. I’d say the greenhouse has already proved its mettle. Go Tomatoes!

 

Exercise: Once again up to 150 minutes of moderate exercise. Feels so good. Improves my mood and, as a new study shows, also fights cancer.

A combination of cardio on the treadmill, p.t. exercises aimed at my aching back and legs, plus upper body workouts designed with the help of Chatgpt.

Moving my treadmill, mats, weight bench, weights and kettle bells down to Kate’s old sewing room has helped. In fact, I got in 30 minutes of cardio yesterday in 10 minute increments. I set my timer for an hour. When it goes off, I get up and go to the treadmill, walk for 10 minutes. Easy peasy.

 

Tarot: The Pole Star, one of the major arcana marking the wanderer’s journey through the Wildwood. Offering guidance toward the end of the pilgrimage.

Could be, probably will be, the start of a new phase of my life. Shadow and I have made great strides. Artemis has already got my full gardener’s attention. I know what’s next for my back and leg pain. These all represent a strong move into a more co-creative life.

With my son, Seoah, and her family here for a week starting tonight I can see the outlines of a new relationship to the Jangs. Closer than before.

I also plan to talk to my son and Seoah about family matters, discuss what might happen if I go into a decline (not planning on it, but then do we ever?), remind them of the estate, the living wills, the medical power of attorney.

 

 

*Spiritual Guidance:
It signifies a connection to universal wisdom and the power of your intuition. The card encourages you to listen to your inner voice and trust the guidance it offers. 

  • Healing and Integration:
    This card represents a period of healing and integration, where you can…embrace wholeness. It’s a time to let your guard down and allow yourself to be nurtured by the holistic energy of the universe. 

  • New Beginnings:
    The Pole Star can also indicate the start of a new phase in your life, a time to step forward with renewed optimism and a sense of purpose.  Gemini

 

 

 

 

Drug Backwards Through History

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Monday gratefuls: The Seer. Luke. Ginny and Janice. Annie and Luna. Shadow at play with Annie, zooming. Another night inside. The darkness of early Morning. Tandoori Chicken. Garlic naan. ChutPo salad. Spice Fusion Ranch. Ancientrails back up. Cyber world. The leaning Tree. Friends and family.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Friends. Ginny and Janice.

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Ahavah. Love.

Tarot: The Seer, #2 in the major arcana. How can I improve my diet?

One brief shining: Took my three pronged cultivator and worked organic fertilizer into the raised beds of Artemis, being slow to plant the fall garden, but already engaged in staking Tomato Plants which get floppy as they get tall, their strong, acidic scent carrying me back to Andover.

 

Friends: Ginny and Janice came over yesterday, picking up food at Spice Fusion Ranch on the way. Ginny had Luna the small in a t-shirt covering her surgery site. Annie the vigorous strained against her leash wanting to get inside, then outside with Shadow.

After an initial testing of each other’s mettle, they began a happy afternoon of racing around the yard, Shadow running just to the left of Annie and behind, guiding her as Border Collies and Australian Cattle Dogs will do.

They wore each other out while we ate lunch made at the too-good for Conifer Spice Ranch Fusion. Mostly we told Dog stories. Of Dogs who did agility courses fast but not accurately or accurately but not fast. Ginny said, “She ran through the tire, then turned and ran through it again.”

I told the favorite tale of Celt whom we took lure coursing. When Kate slipped him, our one hundred and ninety pound Wolfhound ignored chasing the lure and instead chose to head straight for the mini-doughnut stand.

Dog people.

 

Just a moment: Again I say the words. Concentration camps. They came for the immigrants with ICE men in civilian clothes, ready to fill prison facilities already owned by private companies. Hundreds more will be built as a result of the legislation passed last week.

Who will they come for next? LGBT? Jews? Single parents? College professors? This kind of fervor feeds only on hatred, bigotry, and cruelty. And fear. A fear consuming a minority of white people that somehow their lives, their futures, will suffer if they cannot cleanse the land of all others.

This old story crawls its poisonous path through history. Rwanda. South Africa. Sudan. Russia. Germany. China. Myanmar. India. Too many to count.

Who stands in its way? We pluralists. Globalists. Democratic socialists. We who love the rich quilt sewn by different languages, different national origins, by love expressed in its many faceted ways. Who willingly accept the creative tensions of a nation not dominated by one class, skin color, sexual preference, religion, or political inclination.

No time for hesitation, for weak words or weak action. These actions of an administration dragging us backwards through history to a simpler time when oligarchs stood astride the land and our country shrank from the world must not stand.

 

Work in Harmony with Nature

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Sabbath gratefuls: Mezuzah on Artemis. Rabbi Jamie. Marilyn and Irv. Gabe. Luke and Leo. Tara. Her Rhubarb trifle. Artemis. Staying in the Tomato temperature zone. Waldo. Jamie’s Triumph. My first invitation to a group since Kate died. Ritual. Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha’olam, asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu likboa’ mezuzah. The blessing for hanging a mezuzah.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Gabe

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei. Slip streaming the life force.

Week Kavannah: Patience. Savlanut.

Tarot: What will I do with the sabbath? The Ace of Bows.

One brief shining: They came: first, Luke and Leo, then Marilyn and Irv, Tara, later with his white helmet, riding his newly repaired motorcycle, Rabbi Jamie and the table Gabe and I prepared for them offered Strawberry lemonade, sweet Tea, hummus, cut Vegetables, Kalamata Olive bread, crackers, and Tara’s wonderful Rhubarb trifle.

 

From left: Irv, Marilyn, Gabe, Tara, me, Rabbi Jamie

Artemis: A sanctuary. A home temple to the seasons, to the Vegetative world, to human collaboration with the Soil. To the One within which we move and love and have our becoming. To the chi in Seeds and Water and Sunlight.

We dedicated her yesterday, my friends and my Rabbi. Rabbi Jamie pounded in the bottom nail. We said the blessing. I pounded in the top nail. Jamie read a Psalm he had translated about the house of David.

Back in the house we sat in just enough chairs, ate and drank from the table. Talked about matters Jewish. About Gabe’s amazing writing. About Luke as a teacher and artist. About the Tarot. And, of course, with gritted teeth of the One Who Shall Not Be Named.

It was, I think, the first time I’d had a gathering of friends here on Shadow Mountain since Kate died. Family, yes. Individual friends, yes. But not a group, small though it was. Felt good.

My sacred community-Gabe included-together to consecrate this work of Nathan’s and mine. Amen.

 

Dog journal: Shadow loves company. People and Dogs. Leo came with Luke and Shadow tried, really hard, to get old man Leo to play. He did, a bit until he fell and hurt his paw. Not bad, no limping but enough for Luke to sequester Leo. Leo is twelve years old. Old for a Dog his size.

Gabe cleverly went around the house and closed the downstairs door so Shadow had another night inside. Ate her 7pm meal and went to bed. I slept much better with her inside.

 

Tarot: I asked the deck what I should do with this sabbath. I drew The Ace of Bows.

Here’s a bit from the Wildwood book: “We witness the moment when the bow with its arrow rekindles the fire. The fire of life is promised to us by Beltane forest lovers who are currently burning in our lives. The bow created by humans shows that in order to create Spark, we work in harmony with nature, making the most of her gifts, without overwhelming or destroying her.” TarotX.net

Artemis. Final planning for her fall garden. Yes. Tarot. Doing the reading for Luke’s class. Yes, today, this sabbath day.

 

 

How Will It End?

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon

Monday gratefuls: Ginny and Janice. Annie and Luna. Spice Fusion Ranch. Swerve toward cooler after Saturday heat. Red Tie Guy and the MOP. One hour movement breaks. Back and leg pain. Ortho consult. Harvard Medical on back pain. The Bird of dawn. Make firm a person’s steps. Shadow and Annie playtime. Our rocky Soil. Wildflowers. The Greenhouse. Finished on Tuesday? Planting on Wednesday! Horticulture. Wild Neighbors.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Close friends

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

One brief shining: Annie and Luna came out of the car with Ginny on leashes, Janice carrying the food from Spice Fusion Ranch in a brown paper sack, Shadow waited in the backyard since visitors put her in OMG, I’m so glad to see you, jumpy mode while I opened the door glad to greet Mountain friends who’d come to play.

 

Dog journal: Annie, sleek and brown and all puppy, came from the same Granby shelter as Shadow. Ginny and Janice adopted her a month or so before I adopted Shadow. She’s taller and a bit longer than Shadow, but roughly the same age.

It took a while for them to establish their power dynamics, then they played and ran, ran and played while Ginny, Janice, and I ate food from the new Indian place, Spice Fusion Ranch.

Ginny and Janice had stories from Champagne-Urbana where they formerly lived and where they still own an Air B’n’B. Janice created the first Costume degree program in the U.S. there while Ginny directed a social issues theater company.

Luna, their second Dog, is tiny. I’d be surprised if she weighed 5 pounds. Sweet and in the past a bit jumpy, she seemed much calmer, more herself yesterday.

Mountain friends. Ginny and Janice live in Kittredge, a very small town east of Evergreen about five miles.

 

Ancient Brothers: Just to say. We went around telling each other, one at a time, positive characteristics we saw in each other. A little love never hurts, eh?

 

Back and leg pain: With the movement breaks and physical therapy I’ve achieved a significant lessening of my pain. Also, with the evidence of the labrum tear in my right hip I no longer conflate its pain with the rest. Different etiologies.

I’m working back to regular exercise with my physical therapy exercises as a starting place. Feels good. P.T. plus tramadol finds my daily pain load enough lightened to help with my mood. A very good thing.

Cousin Diane found a Harvard Medical e-book on back pain and its treatment. I’m reading it now since I have decisions to make about what happens next.

 

Just a moment: Now, as the saying goes, we wait. What will a weakened Iran do in response to the MOP drop? Close the Straits of Hormuz? Attack U.S. military bases in the region? Send out assassins? Perhaps all three.

We’ve staggered from conflict in Ukraine to conflict in Gaza to conflict on the West Bank to conflict in Lebanon all the while bombing the Houthis and now to outright war against Iran. Where, when, how can it all end?

 

Family and Friends

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.””

A Sad Man

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.

“I’m Getting Fat!”

Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Radical Roots of Religion. Shadow. Her voice. Her presence. Natalie. Her injured Dogs. Nathan. The Greenhouse. Halle. Her grandfather. Judith. All Jews. Anti-Semites. Cousin Donald. Back and leg pain. Cancer results. Beltane. Summer. Lughnasa. The Shema. Being comfortable with who I am and what I have.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Halle

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: Nathan constructs the Greenhouse with care, offering to design a Japanese style door, working with only a few tools and a small stepladder, headphones on listening to podcasts about science, his focus intense.

 

An example

The Greenhouse: The frame of the Greenhouse went up yesterday. A skeleton in four by fours and two by fours, all wood burned in the way of shou sugi ban. When construction finishes Nathan will coat all of the shou sugi ban wood with clear lacquer.

Made a seed order on Sunday with Seed Saver’s Exchange, my first in a decade. Fun to go through the online catalogue, looking for the varieties chatgpt recommended for 8800 feet. I didn’t have an AI companion the last time I gardened.

Nathan says he will do all the labor with the soil for free to make up for the delay in construction. He will also give me some Tomato transplants. He’s a good guy, wanting to do right by me. Even though it was FedEx that delayed the shipping on the plastic foundation pavers. Sound business on his part.

Found Zuni Signs on Monday. Evergreen. Will have them make my Artemis sign once the Greenhouse is complete. A link between Andover and Kate.

While talking to Nathan yesterday, I heard, “Charlie!” My neighbor, Jude. Recently retired from his welding business. “I’m getting fat.” Oh, yes indeed. His white t-shirt ballooned out with a substantial gut. “I have a bicycle. I look at it every once a while.” He laughs.

He asked me if I was building something. I said no he is, pointing to Nathan. “Are you paying for it, Charlie.” Yes. “Well, then you’re building it.”

 

Rigel and a bull Elk in our back a day before my first radiation treatment.

Wild Neighbors: Had several Elk come by  yesterday in the utility easement. Though they didn’t come in the yard, a large Mule Deer Doe did later in the day. My Dandelion crop attracts ungulates. They come for the Dandelions and stay for the Grass.

In 2019, on June 6th, I started my thirty-five sessions of ineffective radiation. On that day, before I left for Lone Tree, three Elk Bucks jumped the fence and dined for a day and a half on Dandelions and Grass. They came back every year until last year. The Does I saw earlier were the first Elk I’d seen up here for a couple of years. I see them often in Evergreen.

(BTW: Just now Shadow tried to herd the Mule Deer Doe. The Doe looked at her, did not move. I called Shadow and she came. Mule Deer and especially Elk can kill a Dog.)

In the Garden Andover

Kate: I stopped by Kate’s Valley to see if her Creek had Water. Very pleased to see it running full. Early last fall it had gone dry. Made me sad.

 

Oh, It Lifts

Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: The Morning Service. Our God, life of all the worlds who makes firm a person’s step. Jamie. Tara. Natalie. Caroline. Shadow. The Greenhouse. Nathan. Alan in Las Vegas. Rich in P.R. MVP next week. Morning darkness, then dawn. Then Great Sol in a blue Colorado Sky. Yet more Rain. Spine Ranch Fusion. Tandoori Chicken. Gulab Jamun. CuTO salad and Garlic naan.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: A Clear Day

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

One brief shining: Natalie, skilled and kind dog trainer, goes on youtube to find out how to do her own brakework, when she has engine trouble; she also mentioned cutting a notch in my dying tree so it could fall over on its own, and knows the work of Minnesotan David Mech on wolves.

 

Dog journal: If you live in a bookish world, surrounded by bookish people, it’s easy to forget or ignore other intelligences. Like BJ, Pamela, and Sarah who used string instruments to reveal theirs. Or. Natalie’s treat bag, her experience with many dogs. Or Nathan’s carpentry and his aesthetic sense. Or Caroline’s empathy.

I’m so grateful to have found others with intelligences that complement my journey, make it richer, easier, more full. Transactional relationships at first, yes, all. During and after, at least more than casual acquaintances. Shared worlds. Recognition of the other’s value.

Shadow and I continue to hug. She zooms and smiles outside, a happy young puppy. Natalie has changed our life together from one of cautious wariness to companionship. Natalie also got a leash on her and walked with her yesterday.

The next unsolved problem? Thresholds. So she’ll come inside and let me close the door. Preferable when it’s cold.

 

Cancer: Had my first therapy session with Caroline Merz, a Princeton and Washington University (her Ph.D.) trained psychologist. She specializes in geriatrics and cancer.

This was our first session and it was a listening session for her as she heard my “unique life story and how aging and illness have affected me.”

It surprised me, but I felt teary almost the whole way through. At a couple of points I did cry and later I cried (after the session was over) about Rigel, now long dead. Chewy, the pet food folks, sent me a rock with a rainbow and Rigel’s name on it.

I’m alone but not lonely. Yes, true. I’m neither afraid of cancer or death. True. However, since Kate’s death and in spite of my friends and family, I carry the psychic burden of responding to loss and pain and disease mostly alone. I can and do carry it.

There is, however, a price. Hard to describe. A sort of Atlas thing where it rests on my shoulders, bearing down, not pushing me to the ground, not making me depressed, but always there, a weighty presence.

The tears are about this, I know. A response to even the momentary sharing of the burden. Oh, it lifts. The relief wells up and expresses itself through release.

Reverend Doctor Israel Herme Harari