Category Archives: Travel

Cooking, Denver, Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Judaism, Travel

Luke’s

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Imbolc and the Valentine Moon

Sunday gratefuls: An open heart. The joy that sits next to sadness. Tu BiShvat. The new year of the trees. Luke. Leo. Those construction folks. The one from Texas. The bald guy and the old man. Zoom. Manna. The Red Sea as birth imagery. The sabbath. Judaism. Mary back in the frozen tundra. Sayonara, Kobe. Mark in OKC. Kep. Kate, always Kate. Early rising. Pappadeaux’s with Ruth and Gabe tonight. A Cajun 76th birthday meal.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Feelings

 

On Friday night I drove into Lakewood for dinner with Luke, the former Executive Director of Congregation Beth Evergreen. He’s a good friend. When I copied his address I added an S in front of Ames St. That gave me the opportunity to see more of Lakewood than I intended. Sheridan runs north and south through Lakewood and I accessed it off of Hwy 285, turning north. The city limit between Denver and Lakewood.

The west side of Denver is heavily Latino as is the east side of Lakewood. The houses are small. The lots close together. Pickup trucks in most driveways. Spanish a second and often first language on storefronts. This was around 4 pm and Sheridan had the full city traffic experience to offer. Blinking turn signals, horns, and about halfway to Luke’s a huge red metal Mexican guitar on a sign that said Westwood. On the Denver side.

Luke had called and warned me of logistical issues. True. A new gas main project had a trench dug for seven blocks, including his. At one point I needed to make a left turn onto Colfax, old highway 40, and a main thoroughfare through Denver and beyond.

I was having no luck and just contemplating a right hand turn, then crossing three lanes of traffic so I could make a u-turn later. A bald headed guy came from behind me and said, “Wait, old man.” He got out into traffic and tried to create a space for me so I could cross the stopped traffic. A guy in a white pickup refused to back up the 6 feet or so I needed. Don’t know why.

Finally got Ruby’s nose in, wiggled her through, and the bald guy stood in the oncoming lane with his hand out stopping cars so I could turn. Gratitude. Although. Old man? I mean, how he did know I turn 76 on Tuesday?

Took me a while even after that to get to Luke’s and when I did I had to park on one side of the trench. And walk over it. The construction workers were gracious, kind and guided me through.

Dinner with Luke, who’s Italian, was eggplant Parmesan. His favorite food since 5th grade. I brought Italian bread and a salad. Leo, his mostly German Shepherd dog, is ten years old and as sweet a dog as you could wish for.

Luke had a tough exit from CBE. We talked about that and what he plans going forward. He may have found a very well paying part time gig with Judaism Your Way, another reconstructionist effort in South Denver. No synagogue. Gatherings for holidays at Denver’s Botanical Gardens. Not sure what else.

His path since leaving the Materials Science Ph.D at Colorado School of Mines has found him doing computer work for a non-profit, converting to Judaism, becoming CBE’s executive director, and now perhaps turning toward Tarot and Astrology to round out his income. Things, he said, I love.

After dinner he pulled three cards from the Druid Oracle deck: Mint, Woad, and a Hawk. We discussed my sadness and the way forward in light of those cards. Encouraged and supported by him and by his reading.

He walked me to the gate. We hugged, said I love you, and I went back across the trench.

Family, GeekWorld, Jefferson County, Travel

Selling the Jeep

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Imbolc and the Valentine Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Kep the nosy one. His good mornings. Mine, too. Tom. That one Star through the Lodgepoles last night. The Aspen shining in the Moonlight. Feelings. Cancer. Gratitude itself. Surviving eight years. The time of our lives. Ichi-e ichi-go. This one wild and precious life. MVP tonight. Rich. Alan. Moving in a bit more than a week. Cold. Atmospheric Rivers. The North Fork of the South Platte. Bailey. The Smiling Pig. Happy Camper.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: That one Star shining through the Lodgepoles

 

On Monday I put in a 100 minutes of cardio. Finished that, put on my hat and coat, went to the garage. Moved the snowblower and the garbage can out of the way. Time for the Jeep to go to Carmax.

Stopped for a Quizno’s sub on the way. Not impressed. First and last time. Got to Carmax and handed over the voluminous paper work they gave me the last time I was there. All signed. Quite the operation. A huge parking lot filled with used cars nice and shiny. A spacious room where would be buyers meet salespeople at kiosks scattered around the floor. All in a blue and yellow and birch wood decor that continues in the blue employee uniform tops.

The operation where I took the Jeep had a bit more used look to it. The seating though modern showed wear. At a reception like desk sat the young woman I’d encountered before. I handed her everything. Has it been more than 7 days since your online quote? Yes. She handed everything back to me. You can give this to me after the appraisal if you want to go through with it then.

A polite Asian man collected the Jeep keys, explaining that the process would take about 35 to 45 minutes. After that? Oh, only about 15 minutes. OK. While the appraisal was begun I called for my very first Uber ride. Well. Not called. Used the online app. They could have somebody there by 3:40. Fine. $56. I was a ways from home far up on Broadway in Littleton, almost to Englewood.

The appraisal came back a little lower than the earlier one but not much. The process seemed fair and it was quick. Only 15 minutes. I took the appraisal and the paperwork back up, handed it in. In a bit I had a check in hand. Easy peasy. Sort of a pawn shop experience only with cars.

The Uber driver came early and I got in his silver Murano. We talked all the way. He drove me past the place where he bought all of his barbecue gear. Proud Souls Barbecue & Provisions. “We don’t just sell barbecue, we live it.” The driver, Tom, grinds his own meat for sausage, cures his own bacon. Has a setup for everything barbecue. Smokes meats of all kinds.

He’s been driving for Uber for several years. His only gig. He likes the freedom and the flexibility. Drives 8 to 10 hours a day. Starts with trying to hit surge pricing rides around 6:30 am. Uber cut all the drivers portion of the fair by 20% last Thanksgiving. Thanks for that, eh? No explanation. Even with that, he still enjoys the work. Before this he was a dog walker. In better shape then he said.

Glad to get home without the hassle of driving myself. Almost worth $56. Thanks, Sarah and Annie.

Acting, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Judaism, Korea, Mussar, Travel, Woolly Mammoths

New Labs

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Winter and the Valentine Moon

Sunday gratefuls: The Ancient Brothers. Alan. Housing matters cleared up. Mostly. Ron. Luke. Bread Lounge. Evergreen. The ice fisherfolk on Lake Evergreen. The 8 outdoor ice hockey rinks on it. Those 30 or so Elk hanging out. The drive down. Rocks. Mountains. Ice covered Streams. Lodgepole Pines. Ponderosa. Aspen. Chinook Salmon toast and that Dulce le Lecha croissant. Coffee.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Jew with Guns

 

Going to Evergreen Players today to see one-act plays directed by Tal’s last directing class as an employee of Evergreen Players. Alan has one in the showcase. Ron Solomon’s coming, too. Looking forward to that. A matinee. That magic word in my world of the performing arts.

Ron sat down with Alan and me at the Bread Lounge yesterday morning. He’s a screenwriter cum entrepreneur. He was part of the writer’s room for Saved By the Bell, but he didn’t like L.A. He wrote a book about Navy Seals published three or four years ago. Now he’s running a company that helps wholesalers make sure their retail prices hold up in the marketplace.

Ron’s also in the MVP group. He’s a very smart guy. Been around CBE for  years. He mentioned that later in the day he and Dan Herman, past president of the Synagogue, had an appointment at a gun range in Golden with a group called Jews with Guns. I’m not getting on a train. The Synagogue shooting in Pittsburgh pushed him over the edge.

I told them that if it came to it I’d get a rifle and help them defend the Synagogue. Friends are worth dying for. Family, too. A silly misadventure in Vietnam dreamed up by anti-communist old white men? Not so much. I’m no pacifist. Though Kate was. Thorough going. Miss her.

Alan’s house is sold. He was going home to pack after breakfast. They close on both deals next week. Move in February. Glad for him. Moving stresses. Not easy.

 

Glad I dropped back to learn Hangul. Still working at it, but when I get done learning Korean will be easier. Hope to get over there for a month next October. Though. CBE’s got an Israel trip planned at the same time. Always wanted to see Israel. This could be a good opportunity. Will clarify as we get closer.

 

The what will I pay for my cancer drugs circus still has its tent up. No word yet on the foundation the nice lady from McKesson told me about. I’ll have to pick up some more Erleada samples if I don’t get a call before Tuesday afternoon when I see Kristie.

Good news though. PSA still undetectable. Lab results came early this morning. Testosterone at 11. Low testosterone is 287 at which point fatigue becomes a factor. Alan’s getting his testosterone boosted for that reason. As for me. Well, I tire easily. But. My cancer doesn’t get its food. That’s the concept.

 

Ancient Brothers topic this morning is space. The space between and among us. Is it too far? Too close? Mussar has a lot to say about this.

 

 

Art and Culture, Colorado, Commentary on the news, Cooking, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Tea, Travel

Dushanbe Tea House

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Winter and the Valentine Moon

Monday gratefuls: A good night’s sleep. Cool temps. Light Snow keeping things fresh. Mike and Kate. Dushanbe Tea House. Lapsang Souchong sausage. The brewing tea at altitude dilemma. Central Asia. Boulder. A drive. Ode in Rarotan. DAVA fund raiser for the kids. California. Now another mass shooting. See that adjective? Another. C’mon. Relationships. Friendships.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Travel

 

What fun. Brunch at the Dushanbe Tea House with Mike Banker and Kate Strickland. On so many levels. First, the drive. Getting down the hill, yet driving very close to the Hogbacks that mark the beginnings of the Laramide Orogeny. The Flatirons, too. Sheets of Rock thrust up.  Going past the Rocky Flats Site. Then down into Boulder. As the wags like to say, 25 square miles surrounded by reality.

On the way into Boulder on 93 you pass a big campus with NOAA, National Weather Service, and an experimental laboratory for the Dept of Commerce. Further on is the CU Boulder planetarium where I’ve taken Ruth many times. Before downtown by about a block is the Tea House.

When I got there, I parked and saw a large crowd outside. 45 minute wait. I was a little early so I put my name for a table for three and went to sit at the bar. Ordered silver needle white Tea. Mike and Kate showed up as I poured my first cup. They ordered Darjeeling, Kate in memory of her trip to Darjeeling before her time in Japan, and Matcha, Mike likes the Japanese Tea Ceremony.

The second level. The wonderful coffered ceilings, all ceramic, a riot of colors. Plants in the center of the large open seating area. A crowd, young for the most part, Boulder’s a college town. The Tea. I should say, the Teas. A thick bound book has five pages with different Teas listed front and back. You can buy Tea there, too. Loose and in satchels for ease of use. When your small white teapot comes, the waiter places a tiny three minute hour glass down with it and tells you how to long to let your choice steep. Three minutes for the white Teas.

The third level. The brunch menu. I had the Swiss Raclette. Eggs in a dish of melted fondue cheese with small chunks of ham and Yukon gold Potatoes. Toast on the side. Kate ordered a side of lapsang souchong sausage so we could taste it. Delicious. Mike had the lapsang souchong flavored bulgogi! And Kate had the Indian Dosa. An exotic menu. Great tastes to go with wonderful Teas.

The fourth and most important level. Being with Kate and Mike. A bright young couple. Kate engaged in the Great Work, creating a sustainable presence for human beings on this planet, Mike now at work with a documentary film company that had him most recently in Kyiv. The table conversation was witty, wide ranging, and fun. I told them how much I appreciated spending time with folks their age. Most of my friends are further along in the aging process. Ahem.

We agreed to meet again in Evergreen. Sometime soon. I felt they genuinely enjoyed hanging out with me. Honored.

 

DAVA. The annual Aurora art teachers art show is this week. They’re having a fund raiser for Ruth and Gabe. This is the first year Jon won’t have any work in the show. I’ve been to the show many times over the years. The art teachers have donated art for sale, the proceeds going to the kids. I’m going with Jen, Ruth and Gabe.

 

My buddy Ode is on Roatan, an Island off the coast of Honduras. Continuing healing for his new knee. Enjoying the sun.

 

Last. How bout those mass shootings, eh? They just keep on coming like the Blue Light specials at the old K-Mart stores. When I opened the NYT yesterday and saw that, my heart shriveled. Again. Another. Then my mind went to the good guys with guns. Like the one here in Aurora who shot a perpetrator only to be killed by police. With their guns. Guns. For god’s sake. Can’t we see the problem is the damned guns?

Dogs, Memories, Plants, Politics, Travel, US History

Stolen Work, Stolen Land

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Winter and the Wolf Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Kate Strickland and Michael Banker. Seeing them on Sunday. Dushanbe Tea House in Boulder. Diane this morning. Tom tomorrow. Tom Tomorrow! Alan on Saturday. Mussar today. Fresh white Snow. Kep, the sleeper. His sleeping sounds. Sudbury Impact Crater. Ejecta all the way to Gunflint Lake in Minnesota. Subduction. Nickel. Copper. Platinum. Paladium. Zircon. Uranium. Colorado Plateau. Placer deposits of uranium. Manitoulin Island. The Georgian Bay. The Chi-cheemaun.

Thursday gratefuls: Life in all is wonder

 

Getting a distinct Canada jones. This Origins of North America course has rekindled memories of Stratford, Ontario, taking the Chi-cheemaun ferry to Manitoulin Island. Also my trips circumnavigating Lake Superior. I’ve always loved Canada. Every since our first family trip there and I saw those road signs with the crown on them. And those Fords that looked like Fords but had a different name: Meteor. That moment on Lake Huron in Ipperwash Provincial Park. One with the Lake and the Sunseen.

Now I see this is land stolen from the Chippewa Band of Kettle and Stony Point. This story about the sniper killing of band member Dudley George in 1995. Maybe the spirit of the Anishinabe inhabited me that day.

And so back to Imani (faith) Perry and her South to America. In her chapter on the Soul of the South she talks a lot about the Black Belt, a geological region that runs through Alabama, Mississippi, parts of other Southern states which was especially good for growing cotton. The term also has a broader definition: “Political analysts and historians continue to use the term Black Belt to designate some 200 counties in the South from Virginia to Texas that have a history of majority African American population and cotton production.” wiki

The Black Belt and the Chippewa’s struggle over Ipperwash are of a piece. They are land used by White governmental and economic structures enforcing white supremacy over those deemed lesser. This is why Perry says to understand the U.S. we have to go to the South. Because slavery informed the founding documents of our nation and because the wealth of the early United States had its base in cotton production and trade. These two facts go together. The wealth of the Southern states allowed them to have an outsized voice in the negotiations creating our nation.

That would mean that originalism is ipso facto racist. It says we have to interpret only the words of the constitution and use the plain meaning of those words as laid down by the founders. Well, hey. The three-fifths clause. The electoral college. Senators two from each state. That means the Extremes are not only hard right conservatives but also standard bearers for white supremacy. Wonder how Clarence feels about that.

February is Black history month. Would be a good time to read some DuBois, maybe some Richard Wright, Imani Perry, Frederick Douglas. Margaret Walker. Toni Morrison. Maya Angelou. James Baldwin. Langston Hughes.

Back to that Canada thing though. Think I’m gonna plan a trip. True North Shore of Lake Superior, over to the Georgian Bay, cross the bay going South, Head to Stratford for some good theater. Anybody wanna come?

 

 

Colorado, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, GeekWorld, Great Wheel, Health, Hermitage, Judaism, Kabbalah, Memories, Minnesota, Mountains, Mussar, Our Land and Home, Plants, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Shadow Mountain, Talmud, The Move, The West, Torah, Travel, Weather +Climate

So much to see. To learn.

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Winter and the Wolf Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: 8 years in Colorado. On the Solstice. The long dog ride with Tom. Memories. Challenges. Family. Death. Divorce. Mental and physical illnesses. Beauty. The Rocky Mountains. The Wild Neighbors. Mountain hiking. Deep snow. Sudden. Then, suddenly gone. Living at altitude. Becoming a member of CBE. Elk and Mule Deer visiting our back. Blue Skies. Black Mountain. Vega. Gertie. Rigel. Kep. Kate, always Kate. Who loved the Mountains.

Sparks of joy and awe: That dog ride 8 years ago. Talking story.

 

Back of the car anthropology. Two vanity plates. YAHWEHS. ODACIOUS. The first on a jet black fancy Audi. The other on a Lexus sedan. Also. Stickers. I heart Aging and Dying. No baby on board. Feel free to ram me. Toyoda. With yoda ears on the T and the a. I love the way we express ourselves on the back of our vehicles. So revealing. Full disclosure. I have a large decal of Lake Superior on the back window of Ruby. And, an ADL Dissent is Patriotic on a side window. There are too the cars seemingly held together by stickers like the occupants got started on the project and just. couldn’t. stop.

 

On December 20th, 2014 Tom Crane and I loaded Rigel, Vega, and Kep in Ivory. All three trazodoned. Tom drove straight through. We talked the whole way. Talking story. The conversation continues now, eight years later. Gertie rode with Kate in the rental van filled with stuff we didn’t want the movers to take. I remember Kate telling me she bought Gertie a hamburger at one of their stops. A satisfied dog.

These have not been easy years. No. They have been fulfilling, satisfying years though. Deep intimacy between Kate and me, especially as she began her long decline. Putting cancer in the chronic illness box. Being here for the kids and Jon after the divorce. Now for Ruth and Gabe after Jon’s death. Becoming part of the CBE community. Making friends. Learning from the ancient civilization of the Jews. Kabbalah. The Torah. Mussar. Talmud. Mitzvahs.

The Wild Neighbors. The Mountains. The Streams. The hiking. Mountain adjustments. Four Seasons. Eight Seasons. The Mountain Fall. Golden Aspens. Against green Lodgepoles. Black Mountain punctuated with gold, then green. Snow flocked in Winter. Wildflowers in the Mountain Spring. Fawns. Kits. Cubs. Elk and Moose Calves. The long Summers. Beautiful in their own right, yet also angsty with the ever present threat of Wildfire.

Living here has been, is an adventure. In relationships. In deep learning. An immersion in the world of Mountains. After the world of Lakes and Rivers and rich Soil.

So much more to see. To learn.

 

Visited Carmax yesterday. The Jeep. Prepared to sell it, then Uber home. A first for me. But. Can’t take a North Carolina power of attorney. Colorado makes it difficult. Do you want me to get you the necessary papers? Yes. Talked to Sarah while the nice lady in the blue Carmax smock did that. Took fifteen minutes. Many pieces of paper. Post it notes. Sign here stickers. OK. Thanks. Back up the hill.

 

Got two calendars as presents.  Aimed at different parts of me. A Zen Calendar from Tom. A New Yorker Cartoons calendar from Sarah and Jerry. Yep. I recognize both of those guys as resident within me. Wonderful to be seen.

 

 

Colorado, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Hermitage, Jefferson County, Shadow Mountain, Travel, Weather +Climate

A day with Ruth

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Winter and the Wolf Moon

Sunday (Christmas) gratefuls: The gift of incarnation. Of life. In Ruth. In Kep. In the Lodgepoles. In the Water of Maxwell Creek. In the Stone of Shadow Mountain. In the life sustaining Air. In the powerful Fire. In the rich and ever giving Soil. In my own body. A visit with Ruth. Colorado Springs. Pine Valley Road. North Fork of the South Platte. Woodland Park. The Rescue Mission in the underbelly of Colorado Springs. The rickety houses in the neighborhood around it. All those cracks where the light comes in.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ruth

 

Two decisions. Neither major. Took a while. Should I go the safe route down to Colorado Springs. 470 to I-25. Or take the beautiful Pine Valley Road and risk having my AWD malfunction light come on, return me to front wheel drive? Maybe something worse? Should I take Kep again with me to see Ruth? He seemed to enjoy it. Or should I leave him at home and come back to a puddle or two? Fussed with them for a while. Longer than I needed to. Miss having a second voice here. Kate’s.

Took Pine Valley Road and left Kep in the new dining room with the door closed to the rest of the house. Called Susan Taylor and paid her to come feed him at 2 pm, stay with him for a while to let him in and out a few times. No puddles. A happy Kep when I returned. Yay.

The Pine Valley Road had more up and down, more curves than I remembered. More snow than I expected. Beautiful. Minnesota driving skills made it easy peasy. The North Fork of the South Platte which carves the valley was no longer frozen over, running cold over Stones and around sweeping bends. No fly fisherman like there would have been on a more clement Saturday. Flash flood warning signs near Cheeseman Reservoir, one of the big ones for the city of Denver. Not visible from the switchbacks that take the road past it.

A journey of Mountains and Streams, landscapes with Mountains in the distance. Pikes Peak among them. The Pike National Forest. Campgrounds. Those National Forest Service signs. A series of curves with signs: Motorcyclists exercise extreme caution! Little traffic. Past Decker. Eventually into Woodland Park. A Mountain town ready for the tourist dollar.

Into Colorado Springs the back way past Manitou Springs where the Pikes Peak Cog Railroad chugs up the Mountain. Got a little turned around and found the raggedy edge of the Springs. Shotgun houses with cars and appliances permanently parked around them. A brave Rainbow flag flying graced one. Maybe three blocks. Then a have to left turn which took me past the Rescue Mission as the men, all men as far as I could see, were leaving the building for a day on the streets. Some stopping, conversing. Others trudging on toward their spots or their camps. Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Yeah.

 

Found Ruth. Juniper building. A phone on the wall. Punched 0 for the receptionist. A voice, very faint. yes. Here to see Ruth Olson. what. Ruth Olson. I know, but she has a pass. oh. Finally two women came. Here for Ruth? She’s very excited. Such a sweet girl. Yes, I agree. A very sweet girl.

She came out wearing one of Kate’s jackets. A thin one. Would later complain of being cold. A big smile and a hug. I’m leaving the building with no techs! She shook her head in amazement. Her first pass since she got there the Friday before Thanksgiving.

In the car we made plans. Limited plans. It was Christmas Eve and all the museums were closed. And there were a lot of museums. The Zoo? Too cold. She opened all her Hanukah presents. Happy with Smart Wool socks, the notebook from Annie, the oil paints from Sarah and Jerry, the chocolate I brought her. A kiddie moment for a too soon mature 16 year old going on 30.

Food? Yeah, I’m hungry. Sushi? Yeah. I know a place. I asked Alexis. We found Uri sushi. In the hood, Alexis said. A pretty upscale hood imho. Wonderful sushi. Alexis was right about that. We had the sashimi combo and three rolls. Ruth ate. Happy to be out of the hospital. In a restaurant on her own with only her grandpop. No staff. No walls. No fences. No two sliding gates to get in and out.

Next out to Anthony’s Nails in the upscale Briargate Mall. You know. Lululemon. Anthropologie. Boutique clothing stores. An Apple store. That sort of thing.

A mani-pedi for both of us. Ruth took control. I’ll talk to them. She told them what I wanted, then went to the three bookshelf sized collection of colors to choose a gel for her toes and one for her fingers. A pinkish silver and a sparkly black. A petite Vietnamese woman with an elf hat on came to me and we walked back to the pedicure chairs.

If you’ve never done this, pedicure chairs are something. Many have massage rollers in the chairback. Mine did not. They do have a throne like feel. The person receiving the pedicure sits high up above the person working on their feet. Somewhat Jesus like it just occurred to me. There’s a small plastic lined bathtub for your feet into which hot to warm water pours.

My elf hatted lady opened her rolling container of tools, taking out nail clippers. Ruth sat beside me. This place was fancy. Two rows of pedicure chairs the length of the store with the nail stands in the middle. A water feature in the back. White columns separating the ranks of six pedicure chairs from each other. A bar up front with mineral water, a water tank filled with lemons and apple slices. Even liquor.

I had on a Vermont Flannel shirt and jeans. Ruth had on Kate’s old jacket and black sweat pants. We were not dressed for the occasion. Made it a bit more fun.

We continued our conversation begun over sushi while the two women cut our nails, pushed back the cuticles, trimmed and massaged our feet. Ruth was more open and more clear than she had been. Much less defensive. We spoke about her Dad, family counseling sessions. Her visits to equine therapy and the therapy dogs. The other folks in her building. Their antics.

The next stop was to be a bookstore, but Ruth remembered the Garden of the Gods. We drove there. I’ve never been. We didn’t get out. Again, too cold and grandpop was getting tired. Shards of red rock let alone, spread out from each other. Tall and majestic. Balancing rock which Ruth remembered climbing as a little girl.

The road through Garden of the Gods ends near Manitou Springs, another Mountain town ready for the tourist dollar. We decided to drive through it since Ruth had never seen it. I pointed out a person in costume. That’s not just a costume, grandpop. That’s a furry. Oh. I’m gonna tell everybody when I get back that I saw a furry. Well, we all have our ways to hide.

We did find the bookstore. Not the one Ruth wanted, but the Springs branch of Tattered Covers, the most well known Denver bookstore. We wandered through it pointing at books we’d read. Have you read this? No. Oh, this is wonderful. Yes, I liked it too.

At that point Ruth had worn out and I was ready to head home. I signed her back in at 6 pm, left the sliding wire gates behind me and drove back to Shadow Mountain and Kep.

Colorado, Denver, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Hawai'i, Health, Hermitage, Jefferson County, Judaism, Memories, Minnesota, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, The Move, The West, Travel

Jerseys. Drug Holidays. Golden.

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Fall and the Simchat Torah Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Memories. Friability. Dreams. The same. Mini-splits. Warm when and where I want it. Cool, too. That back I never had mowed. Beautiful and dangerous if a Fire came through. Sigh. New options for the move. An obvious one, missed until now. Diane. Robin. Tal. His turn at the Creativity Class. Acting class tonight. Chekhov. The Seagull. Uncle Vanya. Ivanov. Will read the Cherry Orchard today. Growing. Right here in Colorado. Change. Stability. One inevitable, the other pleasant while it lasts.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Lead time yields multiple options

 

Whether a correction is in order or not about yesterday’s post, let me be clear: my cousin Diane prefers Jerseys. Always has. Always will. In fact she wore a t-shirt while here that read: Zike Jerseys. Morristown. Higher butterfat than those run of the mill Holsteins. At first she thought my memory might have been wrong, but then she remembered Uncle Riley often bought Holstein bull calves to feed out and sell for slaughter. Could have been some of them. Or, my memory could be faulty.

Still eating through the collection of See’s chocolates Diane brought. A real treat. Ramping up my yogurt and fruit game, too. Told you she was a good influence. Bean and cheese burrito plus yogurt and raspberries for breakfast.

 

Televisit with Kristie. So. Once a month urology oncologists, radiologists, and other specialists and their physicians assistants have a round table dicussion. Each one who wants gets up to two cases to present, then the gathered group provides advice and thoughts. Since Dr. Eigner. my oncologist, and Dr. Simpson, radiation oncologist, differ on their view of the bony sclerosis on my thoracic spine, Kristie will present next Wednesday.

A presentation consists of an overview of treatment from diagnosis through procedures and lab work up to the present day. In my case it will span the time from May 2015 to October 2022. The particular issue in my instance is whether I have metastases causing the swelling on my spine. Dr. Simpson wants to radiate it; Dr. Eigner wants to ignore it.

The most likely result of the conference will be some earlier scans and if felt necessary an MRI to determine the exact nature of those sclerosis. This is good for me because my case is getting reviewed by many docs. Sorta like a fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth opinion.

Kristie gave me some other news, too. If my numbers continue the same PSA undetectable and testosterone low for the next 10 months, I’ll go on a drug holiday. Not sure how long. The reason? These drugs lose their effectiveness over time and a holiday from them reserves some of their capacity so I can still use them. I forgot to ask what the cancer does during the holiday. Lives it up I suppose.

Kristie is a caring doc. I like her and she likes me, a good deal for both of us. We discussed the fatigue I have in the early afternoon. She suggested I check myself while in Hawai’i. If I don’t have it there, it could be psychosomatic. Which was one of my thoughts, too. Good idea.

 

Seeing Kristie brought to the fore a third option for the move, one I’d neglected to consider. Move down the hill. I’ve neglected it because I thought of it as moving to Denver, a place I don’t want to live. But I’ve begun looking seriously into Golden. Once I get to down to 5 600-5 800 feet my O2 sats return to normal.

I’d thought about moving to a college town if Hawai’i didn’t work out, then Minnesota got on my list. Golden has the Colorado School of Mines. That means cultural opportunities. It’s also closer to Boulder with its cultural opportunities and restaurants. Also, it’s right at the base of the Foothills and abuts Interstate 70, a quick shot up to Evergreen and CBE.

Seeing Kristie brought this to mind. I really appreciate her attention to my situation and I wouldn’t have to change oncologists. Medical care in Hawai’i and Minnesota is excellent, so I don’t imagine there would be any degradation of care, but I know Kristie and Dr. Eigner. Eigner since May of 2015. And Kate thought him a good doc.

Not to mention that it would save some money on the move. Quite a bit probably. And retain that link to Gabe and Ruth. All three have strong arguments. Now we’ll see where the different factors begin to move my  heart as we get closer to a pruned house and and a sold house.

Oh. And one more thing. Over the last year especially I’ve found my personal growth accelerating with CBE and mussar, with the Kabbalah Experience classes, and with my CBE friends. A move to Golden would preserve those. Not an insignificant consideration.

 

Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Travel

Narrow Gauge

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Imbolc and the Durango Moon

Isaac, Ronnie, and Dan

Thursday gratefuls: 10 hours of sleep. Two eggs, bacon, potatoes, sour dough toast, grape jam, and coffee. Better. Still tired. Climbing from Durango to Silverton by train. Our table partners, Dan and Ronnie. Amarillo, Texas. The River of Souls, the Animas, which we followed up and down. Think about that. The longest undammed river in the U.S. according to Isaac, the car attendant. I leaned out the window and said, “I damn you.” to the river. Fixed that. The wonder of Rock, Ponderosa Pine, Lodgepole, Wildflowers, Waterfalls, Creeks, Grass, steep Canyons, and the roaring of the River of Souls.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rapids in the River of Souls

 

Tom asked Isaac, “What’s the oddest question you’ve ever been asked?” Isaac thought a moment. “Well, there’s quite a few, but this one is the oddest. At what altitude do Deer turn into Elk?” I asked him what he’d answered. I don’t remember the exact altitude, but he said, “Oh, about 8,000 feet. Then about 12,ooo feet they turn into Moose. And above that they turn into Unicorns.”

Isaac has five years in as an employee of the Durango to Silverton RR; they give him enough seniority to work the Alamosa Car, the end of the train and the most expensive accommodations aboard the ten car train. He was droll, as you can tell, without being sarcastic. Not an easy line to tread. But, he was hoping for tips from everybody.

Rather than natter on, here are some pics from the day:

 

Acting, Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Hawai'i, Health, Hermitage, Kabbalah, Shadow Mountain, Travel

Going slow

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Imbolc and the Durango Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Tom. The Fort. The trip to Durango. Kep. Susan. Medicated shampoo for Kep. Japanese garbage and recycling rules. Thanks, Mary. Monsoon Rains. Green in the Mountains. The Mountain Streams flowing full, still. Our Aquifers replenished. Tal. The Master Class. Chekov. Kabbalah Experience, a class on creativity.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Friendship

 

Visit to Dr. Gonzalez. The AM. She apologized for the slow pace of getting my thyroid back into the desired zone of 1-3. Now at 5. Last time 7. The higher the number the less well my thyroid is working. But, she said, we don’t want to make you too speedy so we have to go slow. She explained, too, that the anemia from my proctitis also effects my energy level. Not just about being old, eh?

After seeing her, I went to Big R and Walmart searching for kiddie pools to bathe the Kep. No joy. Too late in the season. Ordered one from Amazon. The shampoo did not come yesterday anyhow. A task for the next few weeks.

That wore me out. The problem with the thyroid and anemia. So back home I picked up, cleaned up, took a nap.

 

Tom arrived around 3:30. He sat down in the red chair and drank a mineral Water while we talked. He noticed I have Breath, a book he read recently. Discursive, but good, he said.

We went to the Fort last night for dinner. Thought it would still be under customered. Wrong. So the two hard of hearing guys sat across the table from each other saying, what? And leaning in. Very hard for me since our waiter, Adam, had a falsetto voice pitched in exactly the frequencies I lost some time ago. Tom couldn’t hear him well because the background made him take his hearing aids out. Geez. Not quite as much fun as I’d anticipated.

We take off this morning for a six hour journey to Durango and the steam train to Silverton tomorrow at 9 am. Breakfast somewhere on the road. Maybe the Cutthroat Cafe in Bailey.

 

Took my first acting class last spring with Tal Arnold, Rabbi Jamie’s son. Wanted to follow with another one. I asked Tal which one he would recommend. To my surprise he suggested I take the Master Class which will focus on Chekov. A Master Class after my first class? Guess I’ll have to level up with whoever else is in it. Tal thought the depth of the material would interest me. Bless his heart.

Also signed up, a bit oddly, with Kabbalah Experience for a Friday morning class with Rabbi Jamie on creativity and the Kabbalah. All Arnold instruction for fall and early winter.

The Kabbalah piece is a focus on Binah, the third sefirot, the dominant feminine power in the Tree of Life, often called Understanding. Before it comes Keter, the crown and the link to the ayn sof, the great mystery beyond or behind all (Hashem, the unnameable, the ineffable), and Chochmah, the divine masculine.

Ideas come from Keter but only enter the world through Chochmah, conceptual knowledge and/or wisdom. They are solely in the intellectual realm however until they pass over into Binah. Binah makes ideas into something. Thus, creativity.

These classes should help keep me here in the Mountains even as I set things in motion to leave for the Ocean.