Category Archives: Colorado

The Acid Test

Imbolc                                                                                       Settling Moon II

The full settling moon has been beautiful these last couple of nights. We’re also in our shorts and t-shirts with non-alcoholic umbrella drinks. 66 degrees an hour ago, trending a bit down right now. Weird.

 

Boiler inspection yesterday. Not such great news, apparently. Low ph in the boiler water. Acidic water no good for its copper pipes and internal workings. Not clear how it got there, so I’m having the water tested for a corrosive ph. Should I have discovered this before? Maybe. But I didn’t. Caveat emptor.

GeoWater services will send a tech out to do a site visit and investigate the quality of our water. Could have been done before hand, but wasn’t. Sigh. You just can’t think of everything.

I focused on water availability in this arid region. Did the well have supply? Yes. Did the production of the well, measured by flow rate, meet the needs of the typical home? Yes. Is the water acidic? Didn’t occur to me.

The joys of home ownership. They never end, except after a sale. We’re ready right now to pass those joys over to some nice couple in Minnesota. Step up and lay your money on the table.

 

Aurora

Imbolc                                                                               Settling Moon II

Now my late nights have become just before dawns. It’s quiet here in the early morning. When I went out to pick up the Denver Post, the full Settling Moon II hung above Black Mountain to the west. When the full moon rises, the snow reflects its light, making deep shadows.

I’m feeling nearly ready to get back to work. With the TV now upstairs and Jon coming out on Sunday, I may have the workout area functional by Monday.

With the Andover house on the market, the last of the major tasks for this move is underway. I feel oddly detached from it, knowing that its sale is critical for our well-being here, yet almost not caring. I’m more interested in getting the treadmill reassembled and plugged in, finding my snowshoes, returning to Caesar’s Gaul and my sessions with Greg.

Caring for that land, dreaming about it, was a joy and a blessing, a time of quite literal giving back. We left that property better than we found it, especially from a fecundity point of view. In a strange sense that makes it easier to part with. I have no regrets about what we did there, only positive feelings.

Now that same energy has shifted, focused on a montane eco-system in an arid regime with a greatly shortened growing season. All I know now is that I want to xeriscape, create an optimally fire mitigated property and grow a few vegetables. Each of these tasks requires knowledge I don’t have, yet draw on skills I do have.

When the house sells, a balloon of care will lift in our thin air, rising quickly above Shadow Mountain, then Black Mountain, then Mt. Evans, a somewhat close 14’er. But it will see me already at work here, considering the land and loading Perseus, hunting for Latin words.

Carpe montem!

Solar Snow Plowing

Imbolc                                                                             Settling Moon II

Snow today. Varied forecasts, but temperatures in the high 50’s and possible 60’s the next three days. Solar snow plowing is a very non-Minnesota experience, except perhaps in late March. Makes the work pretty simple. Snow falls. Pull up blinds. Watch snow melt.

There are now large expanses of empty space up here in the loft, journals and novel material are together, standing next to the DVD’s. Filing begins today. A lot of work still ahead, but I don’t have that surrounded by chaos sense I had up until yesterday.

A working space has begun to take shape, a sort of Greek gymnasium where I can work out, study and write. The rubber mats shipped yesterday, somewhat ahead of schedule. Mike (the Fence Guy) comes today to remove our cardboard and move a couple of things for us, one of them being the TV up here to the loft.

 

 

Finishing One Step, Moving to the Next

Imbolc                                                                                       Settling Moon II

Up in the loft again after feeding the dogs this morning. A bright, Raphael-esque pink paints the clouds I can see between the lodgepole pines.

Yesterday I came very close to getting all my books stacked by rough category and I will finish today: American studies, emergence/Lake Superior/climate change/science/, art, philosophy, war, aging, weather, bees, classics/mythology/ancient history, poetry/spirituality/religion/renaissance, literature, Asia, Latin America.

Once done with that task I can move on to filing. That will involve moving some files out of banker’s boxes and into my horizontal file.  Many of my files, including all my novel manuscripts and research, will stay in boxes. A convenient place for them will to be created.

The congestion has decreased considerably and will decrease a lot more after the filing is done.

My two large rubber mats for the gym area won’t arrive until mid-month, but when they do that will allow me to finish off the workout area. At some point Jon will get started on the built-ins. This whole process will take a good bit of time, but the end result will be wonderful.

 

A Few Things.

Winter                                                                        Settling Moon II

Again, snow. Then, warm. John Dowling, an insurance consultant, told us that Coloradans rarely see snow on snow on the roads. That explained much of the daft driving we encountered in the weeks just after we got here. Looked like normal Minnesota conditions to us.

We’ve got an event planned for Valentine’s Day. Appetizers and wine, family and neighbors, folks who helped us get here. Including, of all people, our mortgage consultant. She was terrific. That doesn’t mean everything’s where we want it, but it does mean that we’re feeling at home here on Shadow Mountain.

The cardboard goes away on Wednesday and some boxes get moved up and down. A plumber comes on Thursday to inspect our boiler and gas heaters. We’ve located a primary care doc and have appointments for later in the month.07 10 10_aha

Two showings of the Andover property so far and a realtor’s coffee tomorrow. That property is the last piece of the moving to Colorado puzzle. May it sell soon.

This is a current resident of the woods in Andover. We’ve left Minnesota but she hasn’t.

Take Me Home

Winter                                                                                 Settling Moon II

Kate and I went into Denver to the Curious Theater for a production of Charles Ives Take Me Home by Jessica Dickey. Ives has long been one of my favorite composers and I had a chance to hear his music often when I attended St. Paul Chamber Orchestra concerts.

This is a play for three actors, staged on a minimal set with almost no props. The theater is an old church sanctuary so almost every seat is close to the stage. We had seats in the first row of the balcony.

The play had several memorable moments including one evocation of the aftermath of a father’s death. You realize then, Charles Ives says, that there is no one between you and the top of the sky. At another point near the end a second male character, a devotee of Ives and a violin player, suffers a heart attack. Ives tells him that there is nothing to worry about, he’s dying. Just play through it. This actor, a violinist who plays frequently during the drama, does just that, playing as he dies. Poignant.

Another memorable moment came when the violinist’s daughter, a basketball coach (source of much friction between art loving father and sports loving daughter), speaks to the young girls of her first team in their first game. If you want to succeed, to do your best, you have to dive for the ball. Dive recklessly. You have to play the game unreasonably.

This was a professionally handled piece from beginning to end and made me feel good about the Denver arts scene. Also, the theater was full and it was Superbowl Sunday. We were there for the 2 pm matinee.

 

Imbolc 2015

Imbolc                                                                          Settling Moon II

Our first full day on Shadow Mountain was the Winter Solstice on December 21st. Now the earth has moved further along its orbit, the Great Wheel come round to Imbolc. Longtime readers of Ancientrails will know that Imbolc=in the belly, a phrase focused on the quickening of ewes around this time and the reintroduction of milk to the Celtic diet. The fallow season, begun on Samhain, October 31st, continues for another six weeks, but the pregnancy of the sheep is a clear and visible sign of the coming spring.

Imbolc also celebrates the triple-goddess Bridgit, who rules the hearth, the smithy and poetry. It is, therefore, a fire festival-the domestic fire, the craftsperson’s fire and the fire of creative inspiration. At Kildare 19 nuns kept a perpetual flame going in honor of St. Brigid, the Roman Catholic appropriation of the Celtic goddess. The assumption is that the 19 nuns continued a practice already in existence, women of the Auld Faith maintaining a perpetual flame for the goddess.

Though in Ireland Imbolc would come as temperatures were in the 40’s and rising (fahrenheit), here in the continental mid-latitudes it often comes in the coldest part of winter. We had about 6 inches of new powder here in Conifer last night and the temperature was 9 degrees, for example.

The message of Imbolc has two basic levels. The pregnant ewe represents earth’s fertility, the natural world’s ongoing creative force. Imbolc sends a declaration that the natural world will not be denied, not by cold nor by a time of barrenness.

In the same way Bridgit’s domains: hearth, smithy and poetry underwrite the human aspect of this natural creative impulse. In our homes we have and raise children, feeding them from the fire of our hearths and hearts. In our work we use the fire of our crafts to adapt to and be part of the natural order. (Yes, we can also use the fire of our crafts to burn fossil fuels, clear cut forests and poison the oceans. But this is not the way we celebrate on Imbolc.) Finally, we can use the fire in our souls to bring poetry, song, painting, literature into the world, manifestations of the human that delight us all.

Imbolc then is a time for considering garden and agricultural plans, planning how you might co-operate with the earth’s creativity. It is, too, a time for considering the new at home, at work and in your own poetry, your own music, your own art. This Imbolc is a time for finding those small seeds that will grow, over the coming growing season, into something substantial.

 

Dehabituation

Winter                                                                                 Settling Moon II

The move has occasioned some changes in long standing habits. In Andover I regularly went to bed at 11:30 pm, getting up somewhere between 7 and 8 am. Since the move happened close to the change from daylight savings to standard time, I was able to move my bedtime back to 9 pm with little effect. That means I now get up between 5:30 am and 6:00 am.

It is, for example, 6:15 am here now and I’ve been up since 5:30, fed the dogs, got the newspaper and come up here to the loft for some work time. It’s not actually work quite yet, but I’m developing a new habit, working in the time after I’ve fed the dogs. Working in this time helps me delay breakfast until after 7:00 am, another new habit. This one involves eating only between 7:00 am and 7:00 pm.

So far this latter new habit has allowed me to maintain my weight at 153, almost 20 pounds lighter than my heaviest in Minnesota. I lost the weight, most of it, in the move, a combination of stress, physical exercise and my low carb diet taking hold.

Kate, too, is at an all time slim, down to 115. The move has been good for our BMI. I suggested to Kate that we’d both lost weight because people are just fitter here in Colorado. Irony aside the emphasis on fitness here does reinforce good eating and exercise habits, something I like. Yes, these are my choices and I’m responsible for them, but it helps to have societal support.

Six Weeks In

Winter                                                                        Settling Moon II

After a bitter and snowy introduction to Colorado, followed by a milder, but still snowy time, we’ve experienced mild temperatures and dry weather. This doesn’t look likely to change soon either. Not only do the western slope snows drive the ski and snowboard resorts, the total snowfall has a huge impact on that most Western of issues: water. Dry winter weather makes people twitchy here, even though ski resorts report good numbers so far.

Six weeks in the settling in part of our home work has advanced a good bit. Kate’s sewing area has begun to take shape and is free of cardboard for the most part. The reading room/dining room area is free of cardboard, too, as are the living room and master bedroom. The garage still has most of its contents in boxes, a task we’re saving until more clement weather.

My loft only has DVD’s in boxes and boxes that were misplaced during the move and now need to migrate downstairs. Since Jon and I discussed the built-in bookshelves, I’ve shifted my work with the books from shelving them in anticipation of a permanent location to clumping them on shelves according to content. This will allow me access to the books by category, while making it much easier to move them to make way for carpentry.

When packing, I had to pack the books by size, now they have to be sorted back into meaningful agglomerations. That’s taking a while, as you might expect.

We’ve already come to love our mountain home, neighborhood and area. It’s a unique area with a distinct sense of place. Our family life here has begun slowly, but we’re here now. Slow is good.

The Fort

Winter                                                                                       Settling Moon II

 

Took my sweetheart out to eat last night. We went to The Fort. This unusual restaurant is about 30 minutes from Conifer in Morrison, near the Red Rocks Amphitheater. It began as a suburban foothills home, but when the cost of the adobe construction began to exceed budget the lower level became a restaurant, The Fort, and the upper level family living space.

The Fort models itself to some extent on Bent’s Fort, a trading post that was “the only major white American permanent settlement on the Santa Fe Trail between Missouri and the Mexican settlements” according to Wikipedia. (Bent’s Fort reconstruction)

In addition to the adobe facade the Fort took as its guide the cuisine available in the 1830’s along the Santa Fe trail and served at Bent’s Fort.

Kate and I chose their game plate:  “Our most popular dish! A bone-in Elk chop, Buffalo sirloin medallion, and a grilled teriyaki Quail. Served with seasonal vegetables, Fort potatoes, and wild Montana huckleberry preserves.” The buffalo was tender and cooked perfectly. The elk chop, while tasty with the huckleberry sauce, had some gristle. Kate enjoyed the quail.

Our table over looked night time Denver in the distance to the east, twinkling in shimmers of air rising from the plain. It was not cheap, but the ambiance, the unusual menu and the company made it worthwhile.