Category Archives: Health

Feelings. oh, oh, Feelings

Yule and the waning crescent of the Winter Solstice Moon

Where’s the Webb?  Still slowing. .5860 miles per second. Or, 2044 mph. 347000 miles from Earth and 552000 to L2. 4 days into the mission.

Wednesday gratefuls: NPO. Nothing by mouth. Blood work this morning. Pick up some paper plates and some frozen entrees. Shingles vaccine. All in one store: Safeway. Down the hill. Breakfast out after fasting. Back home for more D3, domestic duty day. Cold, Snow. Home. Sink. Counter Top. Cabinets coming on Friday. Assistance Fund.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Cancer surveillance

Tarot: Ace of Vessels, the Waters of Life  wildwood

 

A neighbor slid off Shadow Mountain yesterday afternoon. Broke 7 ribs. Taken away by ambulance. Caught by trees so didn’t flip over.

You wouldn’t think it, but the Great Resignation is partly to blame. Jeffco does not have enough snow plow drivers. Reduced presence on our Shadow Mountain/Black Mountain/Brook Forest drive. Which is a bit strange even so. A school bus route. The only road for emergency vehicles to get up here and for us to use in case of evacuation.

Folks (reasonably) demanding better pay and working conditions. I get it. Go, union! One of those paradoxes.

Supply chain interruptions. Any one who has transited the Panama Canal, Kate and I did it twice, has seen the global supply chain. We came to the canal very early in the morning on our Latin American cruise. I got up around 4 am, walked onto the deck. Our ship, the Rotterdam?, had a priority slot so we could see the canal during the day. We floated slowly through a sea of ships parked, waiting for their turn in line. Lights strung along hulls, blinking red on radar masts. Very little noise. Whatever needed to get to L.A. or Tokyo or Shanghai from Europe or western Africa stranded for the moment, a queue so big it’s hard to imagine.

At major ports in the world this queue has swollen, ships often waiting days to dock and unload. What a fragile thing our global interconnections are. Clogged and disrupted by something .125 microns in size.

Worked out yesterday. Felt sluggish. Happens. Missed Monday with Jodi’s visit to choose backsplash tiles. Back at it tomorrow. Trying to feel easy with exercising when I can. I passed a critical point long ago, maybe at 45 or so, where I began to think of myself as an exerciser. A person who regularly works out. The downside (and upside) is that I feel mild guilt if I don’t workout according to whatever schedule I’m currently following. I want to lose the guilt and keep the self-identification. Proving difficult.

Not quite as bouncy. Like an internal drag chute has deployed. Slowing me down. Not sick. John Desteian enlisted Kate’s help for me since I can miss a slide into melancholia. She would say, at my request, “I sense you’re slipping into melancholy.” That was an alert. Oh. Maybe my Ancient Brothers can take up that task.

If melancholy has begun, it would not surprise me. Not at all. It’s been a tough, tough three years, seven years really, starting from my prostate cancer diagnosis. A lot of putting the weight on my shoulders, head down, legs driving forward. Proud I can do that. But, it has a price. Weariness. Exhaustion. Denial.

I might need to locate a therapist, preferably a Jungian analyst. What I’m familiar with, what helped me so much years ago.

Not sending up a flare. I’m ok. Feeling that weight. Grief. Covid. Even the remodel and the mini-splits. All stressors. Also, blood work today. My anxiety titer always goes up a bit.

The Tarot gave me an antidote today. The Ace of Vessels, the Waters of Life. Aces are about potential, about beginnings, about the power of their elementals and their focus. Vessels (cups) are about the emotions and their elemental is Water. The Water Course Way. Alan Watts. Flow with the feelings, don’t push against them, see them for what they are. A release valve, a healing mechanism. Embrace them.

Going to talk to Diane, then head down the hill to Safeway.

 

 

 

Forest Lovers and the World Tree

Yule and the Moon of the Winter Solstice

Webb at L2, all deployed. Launch + 29.5 days

Where is the Webb? Three days and two hours into its flight. Still slowing at .6555 miles per second. 296000 miles from Earth and 603000 miles to L2 insertion. 33% of its path behind.

Tuesday gratefuls: The cold. Some new Snow. A clear blue Sky. Water, a true holy trinity: liquid, solid, gas. And that unique property, the solid is lighter than the liquid. Makes life possible. Think about it. The Webb, traveling toward home. Science. The unseen. Life. Other humans, near and far. Prostate cancer. Jodi. The new backsplash, brick-like tile. Caution. Slippery Mountain roads.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Jamie’s Road Trip

Tarot: The Year Spread

 

Where I want my PSA

Was gonna get my blood work done today. Nope. Icy Shadow Mountain Drive. 285, not as bad, but not good. Moved my trip till tomorrow. I’m also getting shot #1 of the shingles vaccine. No, I don’t know why I’ve never gotten it.

I hope the Orgovyx has pushed my T-score, testosterone, further down, and my PSA to undetectable. I’d like to let go of thinking about this for at least a few more months. A little nervous, yes. These quarterly blood draws ratchet up the excitement. Will it be down or won’t it? Not as bad now as the ones a few months ago when I still thought I could be cured. Now it’s a numbers game. PSA down. All good. PSA up. New treatment time.

A friend, Jimmy Johnson, has a PSA of 9.4. His doctor said not to worry about it, he’d die of something else. He’s 80. Made me wonder if I can back off the treatments when I reach a certain age. Whether I’d be comfortable with that.

 

Half working

Jodi came yesterday. She brought tile samples, the brick veneer. This time we could look at them with the counter top in. Made choosing easier. Went with a buff-gray. She says she can get those by early next week. If Brian does deliver the cabinets this week, it means Bowe can finish next week.

The sink works fine. The dishwasher not so much. Since Bowe came on Christmas Eve morning to hook them up, I’m ok with waiting a bit longer for the dishwasher. Will buy paper plates and bowls. Wash pans and cutlery in the sink.

 

Lennart Helje

Usually have my window wide open at night. Had to close it. My down comforter and electric blanket couldn’t keep up with the chill breeze. 3 am.

Love Helje’s work. Sweet. Evocative of a hidden world. Wintry. Scandinavian.

With Kep and Rigel next to me I was a Rocky Mountain version of this print.

 

The year spread. I’ve discovered these spreads with more than three or four cards are hard to summarize.  I’ll try to condense the surprising and upbeat feelings I had after pulling twelve cards, one for each month, and an additional card, the first one I drew, for the year’s energy.

Seven of Bows “This is the time to make decisions and select your priorities. Focus on what you really need in life and things that it’s time for you to drop and cut down, especially if it’s old and broken, no longer fulfilling your needs on a life journey.” Not hard to see how this energy will fill the entire next year.

Already underway with the kitchen remodel and the rest of the redecorating. What else in my life needs pruning? What needs to be added?

Other information from this spread: I’ll post these cards as the months change and comment them then, but I want to focus on two this morning, the cards for April, when Kate died, and August, when she was born.

The April card is the Forest Lovers, number 6 in the major arcana. The August card is the final card of the major arcana, The World Tree.

 

April

The Forest Lovers represent balance in the relationship and the gender link between the two heterosexuals. This Wildwood Tarot card contains the love of nature for humans, of both the ecosystem and each individual. We are the mysterious fractions of the universe.”

We lived in Andover as the Forest Lovers, eager for Spring and the growing season. Now Kate stands hand in hand with my anima, the three of us around the birch with green life reaching up toward the Sky. Her death transformed her from a mate to a spiritual presence in my inner garden. We tend it together.

August

“As a symbol of the bridge of consciousness between the great universe in outer space and the small universe inside every human mind. The World Tree marks the end of The Wanderer’s trip and the starting point for another journey. The Wanderer began his journey around The Wheel with an innocent, passionate curiosity. It is the journey that has brought wise experiences, along with the gift of knowledge. Now, The Wander is taking the final steps along the path of the maze of life, entering the heart of The World Tree to become an integral whole with the cosmic memory.”

In the month of Kate’s birth, her 78th birthday, the Tarot deck offers both of us the completion of our journey together, one we lived as guardians of the earth and seekers of justice. I’m imagining my grieving will change in August of next year. A fullness, a celebration of our life together. She has gone through the small door in the World Tree as I will one day. We are physically separate, but spiritually one.

Enough for now. Look for the first card in the spread, The Ace of Bows, for January on Saturday.

 

The Continuing Crisis

Samain and the Winter Solstice Moon

Saturday gratefuls: The Blues shabbat. Kate. Alan. Jamie. Luke. Orgovyx by Fedex. The assistance fund. Prostate cancer. Artificial knee. The lenses in my eyes from cataract surgery. That mended Achilles tendon. My paralyzed diaphragm, left side. Medicine. Zoom. Ruby with a full tank of gas. Cold weather. Snowpack numbers up.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Conflict. Creative tension.

Tarot: ?What do I need to get the most out of this weekend?

Ace of Vessels: The Waters of Life. King of Stones: Wolf. Nine of vessels: Generosity.

 

3 generations of our family

A three card spread asking the question above occupies most of this post. It’s below. The focus is on Jon and his continuing crisis. Once again the cards evoke archetypal energies, caused reflection at a deep level, and remind all of us involved, Jon and the Johnson sisters and me, to be aware of emotional traps.

Blues Shabbat last night at CBE. I zoomed since it started at 7:30 pm and my chariot transforms to pumpkinhood around 8 pm. Makes attendance at Friday shabbat services a challenge for me. Rabbi Jamie wrote a couple of blues songs and wrote new lyrics to old standards like Stormy Weather. The CBE band had a keyboardist/vocalist, a backup singer, harmonica, drums, and lead guitar.

I appreciated the effort, but the sound on my laptop and the difficulty of getting good sound from the sanctuary to those of us online made listening difficult. I also wish the blues had been more reflective of Jews’ long struggle for safety and community. A little too upbeat for me. But the online crowd loved the show.

Had lunch with Alan. He’s in between eyeballs with cataract surgery. And wondering if some changes are permanent. We’ll find out. I always leave lunch with Alan smiling.

At the shiva for Kate he told me, “It’s going to be my job to get you out of the house.” He’s been true to his word. His kindness and consistency since then has helped me. A lot.

Got in my workout. A new practice now. I look at the day either the night before or the morning of and choose a time during the day for exercise. It has worked so far. When I had a rigid schedule, which I preferred, at least until now, I would be negative when I missed a day. And, I missed some, sometimes a whole week, like last week. I don’t want the negative so I’m going to try some flexibility and being good with what I can get in. My goal is 300 minutes a week. Satisfied with 240. OK with getting some exercise in a tough week no matter the minutes.

Today and tomorrow are study days in addition to family and Ancient Brothers time. Looking forward to it all.

 

The Path to a good weekend:

@willworthingtonart

Ace of Vessels. Vessels go with the elemental water. Water in the Tarot is emotions. This ace of vessels reminds me that I need to avoid extreme emotions, remain balanced in my response. An important reminder since I have a meal with Jon and the kids at 3:15. And, on Sunday, the Johnson sisters and I zoom with Jon to talk about his financial crisis and how to help him through it. Balanced emotions, clear expression of them, will be key for Jon to get what he needs and for us to do what we can without enabling him. No to enmeshment, co-dependence. Yes to chesed.

@willworthingtonart

King of Stones Stones are with the elemental earth. Earth is the practical, the this-worldly, the reality we can touch and feel. The Wolf is leader of the pack, one who protects, defends, and disciplines. Jon’s crisis calls for protection and defense of him and of the grandkids. We, his family, can do that best by a conservative approach with money, a generous approach with kindness and love. Our response, and his, must be practical, helpful, and timely. The Wolf also reminds us that each of us must make our own way in the Wildwood, but that we can’t do that alone.

@willworthingtonart

Nine of Vessels As the pip cards increase in number so do their expression of the key aspects of their suit. Our emotional response to this weekend must be generous. Kind. Protective. We must all guide ourselves and our emotional response with generosity. Not sure what that generosity looks like in action. TBD. But the nine of vessels in this position means it is the action most needed for a good weekend.

Overall  Jon’s situation will bring us closer together as a family. Potentially. If we avoid blaming, anger, disappointment, and yet insist on accountability, responsibility then we can avoid the emotional traps inherent in this kind of discussion. What comes needs to have clarity for Jon and for the family. It needs to give him support and protect the health of the pack, the family. These may be in conflict and will require careful, honest, open conversation. But. If we proceed from a position of generosity of spirit, generosity of attention, and generosity of resources, then all of us can come away from this weekend feeling good about our family and ourselves.

 

 

 

 

 

Vayigash and Gaetanos

Samain and the waxing Winter Solstice Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Shabbat. The Morning Service. Rabbi Jamie and his grief. The Minyan. The Snow. The cold. Rigel and Kep try to understand the kitchen remodel. Jon. His long nap. Gabe. Ruth. Sarah and Annie. BJ. Tom. The Ancient Brothers and the gift. Herme. The kitchen. Lower Gas bill.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: A teachable moment. Maybe.

Tarot: Seven of Bows, clearance.  wildwood

 

No chicken pot pies. Yep. Not at Conifer Safeway or the Evergreen Safeway. My favorite. Marie Callender. Confirmed this on the way home from CBE after the Shabbat morning service. Laying in a supply of frozen entrees as the kitchen remodel goes into a caesura while more cabinets get made and the quartzite fabricated.

Jews read, then reread, then reread, then reread the Torah, the first five books of Moses: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy. After Sukkot in the fall comes Simchat Torah, joy of the Torah. The reading of the five books ends, then picks up again at Bereshit, Genesis.

This is a qualitative difference between Judaism and Christianity. Christians parse up the “old testament” and the New. Often three short readings readings on a Sunday morning. The result, and I did it for years, is a disjointed sense of the scriptural narrative. The power lies in the hands of the liturgical calendar makers.

vayigash

Even in progressive synagogues like Beth Evergreen a new parsha is read every Sabbath, in a regular sequence. Parsha’s are long. For example, the December tenth parsha was Genesis 47:28–50:26. Vayigash. The result of this reading and reading is to create a shared story, a shared mythology, a tradition that joins all Jews. Cain and Abel, Babel, the Reed Sea, Pharaoh, the Golden Calf, Mt. Sinai, the 631 mitzvot, Moses watching from Mt. Pisgah as others enter the promised land. Each character from Abraham to Aaron has a lesson or lessons to teach, not as dogma but as human choices made in contexts that we still find in our contemporary humanness.

The morning service which I attended yesterday had some wonderful and memorable moments. After six years I still have almost no Hebrew so the chanting and singing in Hebrew appeals to me as music mostly. Rabbi Jamie’s haunting chants take me to a deep place whether I read the English translation or not.

At one point a note suggested we think of a person who loves us and imagine ourselves loved by them. I chose Kate. It helped me. Seeing myself through her eyes gave me a sense of breadth to my life, a sense of what loyalty means to a woman betrayed, a sense of my possibilities as real, rather than hoped for.

Jamie talked about Tony Haas, his mother-in-law, her death last Sunday, the work she did in rural education policy. He lived with her and she died with him and the grandkids around her bed. His love and affection for her was clear, as was his sense of loss. Even 9 months later, today actually, that early grief is so present and available to me. I was with him and his family.

After my unsuccessful journey to the frozen food aisle, I drove back home, up the Snowy and Icy road. Going up is so much easier than going down in those conditions.

At 4:20, after feeding the dogs, I took off for Gaetano’s and Jon’s 53rd birthday dinner. Still feeling a little rough, but much better than Thursday night and Friday. Got there about 5:10 after a puzzling traffic delay on i-70 and surprisingly good memory about how to get to the restaurant without navigation aids.

Jon never came. Later he texted an apology. He had gone to sleep around 2 pm and didn’t wake up until 7 in spite of having set the alarm. His medications and illnesses have variable affects on him. This may have been one.

I had a nice meal on my own, testing something I had not realized I needed to. Eating a nice meal without Kate. I enjoyed the food, but the combination of her absence and the cacophony made me not want to repeat that anytime soon.

Same on the way home. I drove back up Brook Forest and Black Mountain. It was cold and there was snow on the ground. Returning from Evergreen at night in the first couple of weeks we were here. Kate and me. I reached over to her seat, held her hand for a while, felt sad.

It was good to get back home to Kep and Rigel, to the new life I’m making here on the mountain.

 

Seven of Bows

“This is the time to make decisions and select your priorities. Focus on what you really need in life and things that it’s time for you to drop and cut down, especially if it’s old and broken, no longer fulfilling your needs on a life journey.” The Wildwood book

This is my journey right now. Pruning. Reshaping relationships. Leaning into the good ones. Ameliorating the effects of the not so good ones. Remaking the physical space here. Refining my life over all.

A Rake. And, two photos

Samain and the Moon of the Winter Solstice

@willworthingtonart

Saturday gratefuls: Snow! Cold. Winter. A rest day. Feeling less bad. Template for the counter top done. Jodi. Best contractor I’ve worked with. Rabbi Jamie. Mourning. CBE. Safeway. Pickup. Frozen entrees. Microwave. Tom’s photos. His safe arrival in Minnesota Weather.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Frozen food

Tarot: Nine of Stones, Tradition. wildwood

 

 

Chilly. Colorado chilly. 15 degrees, some Snow. Maybe 3 to 4 inches. Good to see. It helps with the wildfire situation. Doesn’t solve it, but it helps. Also, beautiful.

Snow rake today. I’ve had the rake since we installed the solar panels, but never used it. This year, with the mini-splits installed and heating with Electricity, I plan to. You only have to rake a section off the bottom of each panel and the snow slides off as the sun comes out. At least that’s the theory. I’ve not done it yet, so I can’t really say.

Safeway pickup as soon as I finish with this. Torah study with Rabbi Jamie at CBE. 10 am. Jon at Gaetano’s for his 53rd birthday. 5:15 pm. Some stuff going on.

Still feeling a little off, but headed up rather than down. Not sure what that was about. Didn’t like it.

Pictures today courtesy of Tom Crane’s phone:

Herme and me
Kep and I contemplate the partially finished kitchen

 

That’s Sick!

Samain and the waxing Winter Solstice Moon

©willworthingtonart

Friday gratefuls: Tom’s visit. Happy Camper. Cutthroat Cafe. Tradition! Lunch with Marilyn and Irv at Aspen Perks. Bowe and his helper. Lower cabinets in place. Microwave up and plugged in. Sink in but non-functional. Appliances back in place. Stove and frig working. Herme is in the house. It will be a while before he gets hung. Snow. Maybe an inch or so.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Friendship. Ancient brothers.

Tarot: Ten of Vessels, happiness. wildwood

 

Goya’s, Self-Portrait with Dr. Arrieta. Mpls Museum of Art

Feeling crummy. Tom flew all the way out here and I couldn’t go to dinner last night with him. Slight nausea, mild headache, and felt like headed toward more and worse. Stayed in, went to bed early. This morning a bit of a stuffy nose, a little off. But not worse. Maybe a stomach thing, a bit of food poisoning? Or, something I got from grandson Gabe?

I’ve not been ill since a round of pneumonia in 2019. Well, except for the persistent cancer and post-polio and… That’s significant when you consider the stress of caring for Kate over just those intervening years. I consider myself a pretty healthy person, bracketing the afore mentioned, of course.

Before I skipped dinner though, Tom and I had a full morning. After Bowe and his helper got here to finish installing the bottom cabinets, Tom came. We decided to go to the Cutthroat Cafe in Bailey for a small breakfast since we were meeting Irv and Marilyn at 11:30 at Aspen Perks.

Met a nice former Wisconsin resident who drives to Bailey from Denver to waitress. She had a kind smile and a happy temperament. We ordered off the Senior menu, which, as Tom pointed out, we were over qualified for since it started at age 65. We spoke as long time friends will, of things near and far in time, of journeys and other friends, family. Hopes and dreams. Fears. The food came and went, more coffee.

The Cutthroat

During the week the Cutthroat is the only breakfast place in Bailey. Locals and tourists alike. On the weekend the Rustic Station has breakfast and its fabulous heavy cream pancakes. But the Happy Campers’ Happy Hour, with 20% off all purchases, is only available during the week. That means I rarely get to the Rustic Station.

Tom and I bought Cheeba Chews Indica and a new Cheeba Chews product, Sweet Dreams. Indica plus cbd and melatonin. Tried it last night and it worked well for me. I needed the sleep, too.

Pine Junction (about half way between Conifer and Bailey)

The drive from Conifer to Bailey goes up and down Mountains, through Valleys with Mountains in front and in back, down other Valleys with Mountains filling the view, often covered in mist or clouds far away. As 285 runs past King’s Valley, where Marilyn and Irv live, the Continental Divide comes into view. It’s far away, in South Park, past Fairplay. At this time of year it is often, as it was yesterday, Snow covered.

We had a delightful lunch with Marilyn and Irv. Bringing together the two important friendship groups in my life: The Woolly Mammoths and Congregation Beth Evergreen. We talked about Robert Bly and the men’s movement, the formation of the Woollies, its endurance over time. Multiverses, too. Quantum mechanics. Books. Like the Midnight Library which Irv had listened to.

Home of the Master Benders who created Herme

When Tom and I got back to Shadow Mountain, we opened the back door of Ruby and took Herme out. Downstairs on the Stickley table. I lit him up for Tom. Rigel and Kep looked on wondering what those silly humans are up to now?

I had Tom clip on Roger. Sitting in the passenger seat presents my left ear to the driver, my nonfunctional left ear. With Roger clipped to Tom’s vest I could hear him. When I clip it on somebody now, I joke saying at least this time Roger will go home with someone I know if I forget him. As I did at Gaetano’s.

Sure enough. As Tom pulled out of the driveway, I heard a familiar ping. Roger was getting away! I ran out after Tom, but he didn’t see me. Fortunately, a guy in a pick up saw me and flagged Tom down. Roger came home.

After I got up from my nap, I began to feel off. Just not quite right. Stomach, head. That dissonant sense when the body’s no longer in homeostasis. I held off messaging Tom as long I could, but finally I had to say no. I can’t do it tonight. A shame since he’s here and I see him in person rarely. Still. Illness is no respecter of persons or calendars.

Covid. The first thing that ran through my mind. Nope. No fever. No respiratory involvement. An intestinal critter of some sort, I guess.

Quartzite fabricator comes today. Measuring. Then, a lull in the action while Brian finishes the upper cabinets and the cabinet doors and the quartzite gets cut. It will be close, but I think we’ll make Christmas. I’m excited about reorganizing the kitchen, cooking in it. An ongoing treat.

 

 

 

Oh, Todd.

Samain and the waxing crescent of the Winter Solstice Moon

©willworthingtonart

Thursday gratefuls: Tom’s visit. Bowe and his helper. Almost done with this first round of work. Rigel and Kep, my all night heaters. Who needs an electric blanket? The mini-splits. Fire danger. Lodgepole Pines. Rock outcroppings. Hwy. 78, our only route in or out. Rabbi Jamie. His mother-in-law, Toni Haas. Who died. With whom he was living.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Hand/Craft work. Skilled labor.

Tarot: King of Stones, ww

 

Remodeling has its moments. One came yesterday when Bowe said, hey, look at this! What? See these? He showed me one of three electrical wires with exposed wire. Yes? These were behind your wall. And, alive! He showed me his knife blade where the arc of one of the wires took out a chip of metal.

Oh, Todd. We’re sorry we ever knew ya. Todd was a retired fireman. His name is forever held in infamy in our house. However his assignment has now descended to the lowest pit of contractor hell. May he stay there with exposed wires, leaky pipes, and poorly hung cabinets.

Bowe’s helper, who lives in Colorado Springs, quite a hike from here, is big. Tall and with a beery gut obtained over a lifetime of commitment to the brew. And, about my age. He moved a cabinet and I found him propped up on it, breathing heavily. I’ve had two (pneumo thorax) and they’ve reduced my lung capacity. Oh. Well, you’re also at 8,800 feet.

Bowe himself is a cheerful, short guy. Shorter than me, even at my diminished height of 5′ 6″. Bouncy energy. If he can get the faucet, he’s going to hook my sink backup for use during the fabrication time for the quartzite. He says about two weeks. I thought three. I’m going with his estimate.

Cousin Diane said yesterday that I could just plug my microwave in and use it. I said, nah. They cut the chord at the end. Tom suggested I have somebody help get it back on the counter since it plugged in. I looked closer. What I thought was a cut wire was in fact cut tubing from the water purifier. Oh. Well, Diane and Tom. Thanks. Gonna have the fabricator, who comes tomorrow, help me horse back onto the cabinets. Then I can have chicken pot pies. Burritos. Warmed up leftovers. Yes.

Tom brought me two bags of Battle River Wild Rice. A Minnesota gourmet treat. Thanks again, Tom. We had supper last night at Three Margaritas, the closest restaurant to the house. I haven’t been in there in a year and a half plus. Covid plus Kate’s increasingly sensitive palate.

With our proximity to Texas and New Mexico Colorado has many Latino residents, so the Mexican food here, including Tex-Mex, is pretty good. Lots of food trucks in the city serve it, too. Especially in Aurora and on Denver’s West side.

Sent a note to my urologist about the $1,800 bill from Myriad Genetics. Sussing out whether I have any genetic leanings toward prostate cancer. If I do, as I move forward, they may be able to treat me with medication designed for the genetic markers of my particular cancer. Good idea. But the $1,800 qualified as a big surprise! Doc’s nurse has set me up with folks who might lower my bill. Maybe way down. Hope so.

If I was paying full freight on my Orgovyx, $836 a month copay, my prostate cancer care would now be upwards of $10,000 plus a year with the auximin pet scan and the genetic testing. Which is, of course, a one time only. But the other two are ongoing.

Now you might say. Geez, it’s saving your life. What’s the price for that? A good question. And I so appreciate all the medical advances in prostate care. I like living. But, in staying alive, I have to do just that, live. Quality of life is important, too. If my disposable income gets sopped up by co-pays and co-insurance, then I’m stuck. Yes, it’s a problem of privilege, I see that, too. However, it’s still a problem.

I reapplied to the Assistance Fund for co-pay assistance with the Orgovyx. I won’t know until January, possibly late January. They say their ability to reup aid for those of us in the program depends on the financial commitments they get from their patrons. Which makes sense. But it does leave the process a bit too up in the air. Why I’m a bit sensitive about the Myriad bill.

Aging is, among many other things, expensive.

Not complaining. Well, not personally complaining. I can handle it. But for so many an $1,800 bill would break their finances. Let alone a regular $836 dollars a month. This is capitalism and our Rube Goldberg payment methods for medical care. Did I mention a need for universal health care?

Rabbi Jamie read this poem yesterday:

 

Dirge Without Music

Edna St. Vincent Millay – 1892-1950

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.

Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains,—but the best is lost.

The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,—
They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve. 
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

 

 

 

Remodeling. Water.

Samain and the waning crescent of the Holiseason Moon

Dazzle Jazz, 2017

Tuesday gratefuls: Land Institute. Giving. Tara. Jon and his worm fantasy. Rigel. Kep. The Sun. The Moon. Orion. The Zodiac. Republicans. Trump. Omicron. Covid. Death. Life. Kate, always Kate. Wood. Water. Fire. Air.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Kitchen remodel starts Monday

Tarot:  The Queen of Stones, Bear.  wildwood deck

 

counter top slab pre-fabrication

Jodi emailed me yesterday. Bowe will demolish my kitchen on Monday. That’s a good thing. Because. He’ll start to rebuild it on Tuesday. Once he gets the cabinet bases in place the quartzite fabricator folks will come to do their arcane work. Can’t imagine the precision they have to have. Wait 10 days or two weeks. In which time Bowe will finish the cabinetry. After the installation of the counter top Bowe will put up the brick backsplash and make finishing touches. Done by Christmas. Probably.

Deconstruction. Yes. Construction. Yes.

This week then. Empty all the kitchen cabinets. Getting started today.

At that point I’ll be finished with my 2021 house projects: Staining the house. Adding the mini-splits. Remodeling the kitchen. Hermit neon sign. With one exception. I want to get the furniture rearranged. A lot of heavy lifting.

I’m going to text Mike Vanderhee who put in our fence. I imagine he has a buddy who’s strong like bull, too. Mike carried my 50 inch television up the stairs to the loft and put it in place. Damn thing is really heavy.

Next year. Couch and landscaping.

The ephemeral nature of all this. Could be a wildfire tomorrow. Take it all out. Just after it was done. Could be. But. I choose not to live that way. Insurance. A mountain attitude. Just things. Take the dogs and go.

Jon does not have hookworms. His cat apparently does. The urgent care folks said no. No evidence. He expressed chagrin. Anxiety. Rides him like a cowboy breaking a hoss. You know, rodeo metaphors. The West.

Speaking of the West. Snowpack worries have begun to show up in the Denver Post. The Southern and Southwestern part of the state are in 30% of normal range. The Northern part of the state is more like 75%. Most of the Snowpack comes later so no one is sure what’s going to happen, but the possibility for dry adding on to dry is high.

The highest stakes though are in the Northwestern part of the state where the Mountain snowpack feeds the Colorado. The reservoirs downstream like Lake Mead are so low that a minimal snowpack would (probably will) cause old Water rights to come into effect. This means upper basin states like Colorado and Utah may have to let more water go downstream than usual. Water rights holders in those two states may not get all the water they’re used to. The future. Is now.

As a lifelong resident of the humid East until 2014, I find Water politics passing strange. So important. The growth in Colorado population, which is rapid, is in the Front Range/Denver metro corridor. The Water is mostly in the Western part of the state. A call on Water rights for the Colorado could/would produce impacts here. Complicated. Difficult. No easy answer.

Well. Wildfires and Drought. The modern West. Right where I am.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Friday gratefuls: Thanks giving. Kate. Who was always prepared. Ruth, who did not want to talk about Grandma. Then, did. Good stories, well told, bringing Grandma to Thanksgiving. The Ham. The Stuffing. The Pecan Pie and the Cranberry sauce, both made by Ruth. The Texas Toothpick Gabe got me served the ham. “It was the best present ever for you, Grandpop.”

Sparks of Joy and Awe:  The kitchen remodel

Tarot: doing a spread later

 

On the Pampas, 2011

It has come and gone. The first major holiday without my wife, without Grandma, without the oldest sister, without Kep and Rigel’s and Jon’s mom. These are holes in the fabric of our family, dug by Azrael. Left to be filled in as we knit together a new family, one without her physical presence.

Since I have long cooked the holiday meals and since Kate’s presence as an active participant in the holidays began to fade a couple of years ago, it was not as painful as it might have been for me. Ruth, less so. Jon, too. Gabe seems pretty level.

We spent time talking about Kate. Jon remembered when she brought the makings for pizza when he was in rehab. Ruth remembered Kate and her cooking. Gabe said he didn’t remember much. I told about the time in the Galliard Cut of the Panama Canal when a woman sitting with us pulled out wet wipes, just like Kate always did, and I gave in to her be prepared way. Then there was that time in Pizarro’s house (really) in Lima, Peru. She leaned her head on my shoulder. So much more.

Pizarro’s Place

On our honeymoon I got pneumonia and spent most of the time in Vienna recovering. Thanks to the antibiotics Kate had packed. Kate as the ninja weeder. Her name for her dogged attention to the plants out of place in our garden. A bandana around her forehead, a spading trowel in her hand. She gave so many things all she had. The ski bags she made for Jon. That dress she made from six-year old Ruth’s sketch. The shirts she made for me. Her medical practice. Her quilts. What a woman. So lucky I met her and got to love her. Be loved by her. May her journey be what it needs to be.

Slept in for an hour this morning. Cooking and cleaning up after a big meal. Whew. I find myself now able to do all that, not cringe. Just do it. What I’m not is a great host. Kate had that gene though neither of us enjoyed the role. Wonder if I could learn? Not sure. The introverted me finds shepherding an event and cooking/cleaning for same just too much. Not sure if I want to learn though it is an ancient and honored part of entertaining. Making folks feel welcome, seeding good conversations, maybe a game or two.

Kate with Jon at St. Josephs 2019

Whenever reading books about the Middle East, especially historical works, the rules of hospitality are so prominent. No matter who, even an enemy, deserved and received at least three days of food and shelter and freedom from attack. Don’t know whether that reflects actual practice, but they did lift hospitality to a prominent social norm, for sure.

Sunday night, the first night of Hanukkah, Jon and the kids return. I’m making brisket, traditional, and Jon has the making for latkes. We got a gift from Schecky and BJ, a box of lox (hah), latkes, apple sauce, sour cream, Hanukkah candles, and gelt. The presents from the sisters, the wrapped ones, are on the downstairs table. Not sure yet how we’ll handle the 8 days of present giving and candle lighting. We’ll decide on Sunday.

Another first without Kate.

 

Some days…

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Monday gratefuls: Mark Horn. Tree of Life spread reading. Ancient Brothers. Siblings. TJ Henry. All-Clad 12″ skillet. Induction cooking. The Ham. Ruth, Jon, Gabe coming up Wednesday night for Thanksgiving. Mark going to Minnesota. The beautiful Holiseason moon. A splendid morning. Life with Kate. Now. A corner I need to turn.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Tree of Life tarot spread

Tarot: Eight of Stones, skill. wildwood tarot.

 

What a day. Ancientrails. Journeymen. (Ancient Brothers?). TJ Henry. Derek and the air conditioner. Late nap. Tarot reading by Mark Horn, Gates of Light Tarot. Lots of love on this day.

The Journeymen. Or, the Ancient Brothers. Yesterday morning Paul, Bill, Mark, and I. We spoke of siblings, how we felt about them, how they were in our lives now. A heartfelt hour plus. In the end we recognized the truth. That we are, and have been for many years, true brothers to each other. Including Tom, absent with Roxann for her mother’s funeral on Saturday. Siblings are not solely about blood.

Afterward over to Evergreen Comfort Inn Suites. A woman had posted on Nextdoor about being forced out of her house with her two dogs. The guy she lived with shut off the electricity to her area, cut her wifi, and did other things she chose not to mention. Some thought it was a scam, but it felt genuine to me. And, besides, I’d rather take a chance and be scammed rather than not take a chance and leave somebody in need without help.

Even after I met TJ and her two fluffy snack-sized dogs, I couldn’t tell for sure. Came home wondering.

Then, I found this posted on Nextdoor this morning.

TJ Henry and me
Strong and Powerful Evergreen Community.

Thank you all so much for your help and support in my blight of late. I cannot thank you all enough. I am putting together a list of all the resources sent to me for someone else who may need them in the future. I will distribute.

Charles Buckman-Ellis, who recently lost his wife, left me with these kind words today. “Thank you for allowing me to help you today!” A beautiful man with a amazing soul. Rich Wyatt. Thank you for the ride to Walmart. Greatly appreciated. 🦋

Not a scam. My heart. Went full.

Later in the day Derek, a true neighbor, came over and helped me remove the single room air conditioner from my front window. It had cooled Kate while she sat in her place working crosswords and playing solitaire. With the mini-splits in place it had become a source of cold air leaking in from the outside and unnecessary. Into the garage.

Also Derek.

Couple of trees, one dead, too close to the house. He also took down dead trees further back on our lot. A decent symbiosis. He heats with wood. I’ve lost the strength necessary to do my own logging. (which, btw, I don’t like) Even when I was able to do it these particular trees seemed beyond my amateur arborist skills. Didn’t want to drop  them on my roof. Derek tied ropes to them and felled them away from the house.

He also offered to build a bench using one of the logs and the two stumps. I said, sure. That’d be great. Think he’s doing it right now.

Kate, about a month before her death

Then, in the evening I had my first ever tarot reading. Mark Horn, of Gates of Light tarot. Gonna go more in depth on this later. Tarot works. How? Not a clue. Well, some clue, but not much.

Here’s the big takeaway. In order to move into my next life, next phase, I need to embrace Kate as a presence in my life, a positive, support presence. I need to end the paradox of feeling remorse for feeling good. When I can pull this off, my next life will emerge on its own.