Category Archives: Memories

Validation

Imbolc                                                      Black Mountain Moon

Validation comes at odd points, often years later. In this Atlantic article, the Miracle of Minneapolis, the author, with the aid of Myron Orfield, links the Twin Cities’ blend of more abundant affordable housing and wealth to regional government. Somewhat valid.

Here’s the valid part: “While many large American cities concentrated their low-income housing in certain districts or neighborhoods during the 20th century, sometimes blocking poor residents from the best available jobs, Minnesota passed a law in 1976 requiring all local governments to plan for their fair share of affordable housing.” op cit

The invalid part is this. Even with these kind of laws on the books there are powerful forces that still work against the development of affordable housing. The NIMBY movement can marshal usually white middle and upper-middle class folks against multi-family housing. In Andover, for example, the city council time and again denied applications to build multi-family housing, denials premised in large part on the number of police calls to the two instances of multi-family housing (excluding senior citizen housing). This dynamic plays itself out in wealthy neighborhoods and suburbs across the Twin Cities.

Here in the Denver metro area another force, the market, stands in the way of affordable housing. Rents are high and single family homes are in short supply as well as increasingly unaffordable for new home buyers. This dynamic pushes against the development of affordable housing because normal development is so profitable.

Although some action has been taken in Minnesota and a few other states, the minimum wage is another barrier to affordable housing. Even affordable housing has to be paid for and often folks in the low wage sector: convenience stores, walmart employees, waitresses and bar-tenders, grocery store clerks and baggers, retail workers simply don’t earn enough to afford even reduced cost housing.

 

Here’s the validation. Back in the 1970’s and early 1980’s I was part of a Twin-Cities wide movement of neighborhood activists who advocated for and built affordable housing. We did this through the creation of Community Development Corporations (CDC’s), neighborhood level organizing and in-depth participation in city political races as well as city council deliberations. Most of the affordable housing in Minneapolis and St. Paul-I can’t speak to the suburbs-would not have been built without this committed core of ground level workers, activists and  community developers alike.

(I chaired the West Bank CDC during its most expansive phase of building in the late 1970’s. See pic.)

On the West Bank, where we built 500 units of affordable housing during my time there, we also pressed this movement further by organizing worker-owned co-operative businesses. We were trying to deal with the wage side of the affordable housing equation as well as reducing the cost of housing to begin with.

These were exciting and productive times with different city and state level initiatives being pushed forward by different groups. This all tailed off in the 1980’s.

“In the 1970s and early ’80s, we built 70 percent of our subsidized units in the wealthiest white districts,” Myron Orfield said. “The metro’s affordable-housing plan was one of the best in the country.”

The region’s commitment to dispersing affordable housing throughout the metro area has since diminished.” op cit

This decline exactly parallels the rise of Reagan and the subsequent gathering storm of the Moral Majority followed by the Teaparty movement and the war on terror. The way to achieve and maintain gains for the poorest of our citizens are known and replicable. They do require political will at several different levels of our society and this current society has broken faith with the idea of communal responsibility. This is the great evil of our time, worse than wars or Ebola or terrorism because the cost in damaged lives is so much greater.

A 50 Year Old Habit

Winter                                                                                                  Settling Moon II

Yesterday, after some bookcase assembling, I got an attack of the Sundays. This is a torpor that hits after noon on the seventh day of the week, perhaps only for those of us of a certain age. Our parents took us to church followed by a restaurant meal or a big home-cooked meal. The effect was like a weekly Thanksgiving dinner, a slowing as the body took in more calories than it usually had to absorb.

So I read Moon, the book I mentioned a couple of posts back, then watched some TV. Not vigorous, more calmed and quieted by a habit created well over 50 years ago.

Today has seen the book cases assembled as far as I can take them until I find more shelves. So I’ve started the really fun part, the organizing of my library. The bookshelf next to the computer will contain ancient history, Latin, mythology, material focused on the world of classical antiquity and its predecessors. Another large section I’m filling up now contains books related to art. These will stand next to a broad section on the United States with literature, history, religion, anything that helps fill out the current gestalt of our nation.

Right now that’s as far as I’ve gotten, but other sections will emerge as I move more books.

Winter                                                     Settling Moon

The boiler gurgles behind me. A slight ringing in the ears tells me I’m not done adjusting to the altitude. If I step outside, I’ll no longer see bare tree limbs, shrubs and the remains of last year’s perennials. Instead there will be the thin fingers of pine trees pointing up toward a clear, dark sky. The land beneath them has little undergrowth up here though about 600 feet below there are meadows with grasses and thin leaved shrubs.

Settling in has a lot of components. Yes, of course, there are the details, the net of the ordinary. It slips over us and we are unaware, caught in it and wriggling only folds it tighter around our day.

There is, too, letting go of there while trying to live here. That was made easier by the leave takings we both had. We left having said real and good good-byes.

There is the subtle and longer term process of developing new memories, Colorado memories. Making Colorado memories seems harder when caught in the mesh of car registrations, insurance to buy and bathrooms to clean. I say seems because it is often in those acts that the first memories begin to take root.

The clerks at the Colorado License Bureau laughing about the Omaha steaks Kate and I had planned for New Year’s Eve. “Don’t be surprised if a van pulls up. We know your address.” Driving home from Jon and Jen’s in rush hour traffic and, as a result, going slow enough to take in the Beirut Restaurant, the Corvette only car dealer, the modernist houses on Monaco Avenue. Taking our business meeting to DW’s 285 Cafe which had a large group eating breakfast, at least two of whom were clearly drunk.

Settling in, then. Underway.

Trailhead: Ancientrails, 2005

Winter                                                    Settling Moon

Ten years ago last November I visited Singapore, Bangkok and Siem Reap. My sister and I spent a fascinating morning at the American Club in Singapore watching the election returns over bacon, eggs, pancakes, grits. Bush II won the election, kicking off my Southeast Asian odyssey with a tragedy of historic consequence.

(Had the thought yesterday that the Bush clan is the Duck Dynasty of American politics. Still seems like a good one.)

After Singapore, I spent a couple of days in Bangkok, then flew to Siem Reap, Cambodia, the jumping off spot for visiting Angkor. Angkor was a revelation to me. An ancient Hindu culture, the Khmer, built temples, each erected by a god-king, over a huge area. Unfortunately, I’d left my blood pressure medications back in Bangkok, so, instead of lingering for the last days of my trip in Siem Reap, I had to return to Bangkok.

While there, running across the street to dodge the infamous Bangkok traffic, my right foot fell into sewer obscured by the nighttime darkness. Severed my Achilles tendon as I ran forward, wincing in pain.

In February of 2005 I underwent surgery for repair of the Achilles. Recovery required two months off the leg, so I decided to start a blog. Ancientrails was the result. Ancientrails began on February 1st, 2005, less than a month from now.

Over the course of this eleventh year of Ancientrails, I plan to revisit matters that interested me on some of the days during those ten years.

Here’s a bit of post from January 3rd, 2007:

“Back to Docent class today.  Ann Isaacson gave a masterful lecture on a difficult subject, the decorative arts.   She has a grasp of technique and detail in these matters that is impressive.

It was good to see the class again.  It provides two essentials for a long life:  learning in a new subject, and new friends.  I still feel lucky to have this chance and look forward to touring and further art  history research.

On another artistic note I headed over to Northern Prairie Tileworks  to see about the cost of using hand made tiles for  our fireplace surround.  Kate and I saw these guys at the Arts & Crafts Expo at the State Fair grounds last fall.

Roger and another man who worked there were helpful.  It looks like we can afford this one accent piece and I’m glad.”

 

Sign Posts of Living in a New Place

Winter                                                                        Settling Moon

A few sign posts of living in a new place.

Wearing: cowboy cut wranglers. Only thing the Big R store had in my size. They’re generous in the leg and around the cuff, better to fit over cowboy boots. I’m wearing them now and I recognize the slightly puffed out legs, the break of the cuff on the shoe. Looks cowboy.

Language: Both Mike (Fence Guy) and Eric (electrician) referred casually to back East. This was different in subtle ways from other times I have heard it. First, they included me. There was Mike, Eric and me, here in Colorado and all that rest was back East. Second, they meant everything east of Colorado including the plains states and what I know as the Midwest. Third, I think they also meant treed, watered, agricultural. We’re here now, out West and we came here from back East.

Terrain: Right at our house, which is on a level area several hundred feet in width and depth, maybe a couple of thousand, you couldn’t really tell visually that we are on a mountain. Right now, of course, shortness of breath though less than a week ago, is a signal. That will recede. Up here in the loft I can see Black Mountain and gain sense of our location. What will really tells we’re living in the mountains is that once we leave the Denver metro we start climbing. The climbing continues into the retail center at Aspen

Park and then, beyond that we climb again going up Shadow Mountain Drive. In reverse, when we go out, we go down, down into Aspen Park or Evergreen, down into Denver. These are not the flat lands on which I grew up, gridded in square miles, a neat definition of a section of land. Here mother earth has folded herself, upthrust young rock and made mountains.

Media: In the Brooks Forest Inn pub where Kate and I ate on Sunday, it was the Broncos on TV and Bronco jerseys that dotted the tables and bar. The excitement and eagerness was for a different regional champion than the Vikings.

Body: This process of acclimatization constantly reminds both Kate and me that this place is different. We can’t feel our lightness, but we are just a touch lighter up here. We notice most the difference in available oxygen, that most necessary of elements. Air hunger, which I experienced a couple of nights, is a fear primal and terrible. The body wants to flee, get safe, back when it can breathe. If it can’t flee, then, it can and will adapt. That’s happening now.

A Forgotten Work. Forgotten By Me.

Samain                                                                    New (Moving) Moon

I discovered a novel I forgot I had written, the Well and the Cross. How weird is that? I remembered Even the Gods Must Die, The Last Druid, The Temple, The Phantom Queen and Missing, but the Well and the Cross? Not at all. Think I’d better take some time after the move and reread them.

Boxing them up, hefting the pages reminded me that I had actually done the work. It felt good.

A bit left here, in the study, then I’m out into the files. Out of the study until it’s necessary to load the cargo van that Kate will drive.

Not Expected

Samain                                                                  Closing Moon

10″ for sure. Maybe 12-14. A lot for a first snow. Ushering in a week of cold weather. Minnesota. Ah.

Yesterday when I visited the eye doc a couple a bit older than myself came in. They both had on black sports jackets, the same, with MSRA on the front. I didn’t think much about it until they went to the receptionist to check in and I saw MSRA on the back with the acronym spelled out: Minnesota Street Rod Association. Not what I expected.

Which brings up a regular occurrence. Trying to imagine what an older person was like during the 60’s. I know from looking at myself in the mirror that you can’t tell from a persons post medicare card appearance where they  stood in those days. Even the gray pony-tail crowd is as likely to be composed of veterans as ex-hippies and draft protesters.

Not many of us wear our enthusiasms so clearly as the hot-rodders gathered with me for our glaucoma check.

 

Good-Bye Midwest

Samain                                                                  Closing Moon

Laid down two year old straw in the orchard, covering up exposed landscape cloth and soil2010 10 04_0347 put in to repair holes dug by various dogs. Brought inside the garage all but two hive boxes, making the bee colony left for the showings less intimidating. Started taking up the silt fencing that protected the area we had scraped over to fill in even more dog holes. The snow coming should make digging a non-issue for the remainder of our time here.

These final outdoor chores, more than anything else we’re doing, say good-bye to the world of the Midwest, the agriculturally focused life that has been around both of us as we grew up. We participated in that life here in Andover growing vegetables, fruit and flowers. Growing anything in the very short growing season at 8,800 feet will require season lengthening strategies such as hoops for plastic tents and starting plants indoors.

Whatever we do, it will be on a much smaller scale than here. We’ll have all winter to plan it.

Leaving the Leaves

Samain                                                                             Closing Moon

Outside today, mulching with fallen leaves the beds on which I spread the broadcast yesterday. As I dispersed the leaves, enjoying their rich smell reminiscent of hay lofts and the old days of burning the leaves by the curb, it came to me that Colorado, especially at 8,800 feet has mostly conifers. No leaves. There are aspen, but they are the more scarce tree, the only deciduous one that I know in the front range at that altitude. Leaving behind working with fallen leaves in the autumn. Another mark of the move.

Both Kate and I remarked that though this place has been good to us and for us, it’s time to let someone with fresh vigor take it over. On Black Mountain Drive we’ll have two, maybe three raised beds, no yard, no perennial flower beds. I will have to blow snow again, but I’m ready for that. The amount of outdoor maintenance will be significantly less. There will be some added interior work since at least until we sell this house (Andover) we’ll be doing our own weekly housecleaning, but that’s well within our capabilities.

It’s true there will again be a fence and inside the fence dogs. That means inevitable fence work. We’re going to try a combination of 2×4’s nailed between posts at the bottom of the no-climb wire fence and invisible fence run at its middle. The fence itself will be five feet high. This might work. I’m cautious because I’ve experienced a jail break from every combination I’ve used. The prisoners have all day everyday to figure a way out.

It looks like we’re going to get our first major snow event here well before Conifer, which is unusual. Every one I talked to out there shook their head wondering where the snow was. I’m sure it will come. Probably around December 18th.

There and Back Again

Samain                                                                            Closing Moon

At some point the weather of Conifer and Andover will diverge. This week is a foretaste. Andover heads into the teens while Conifer remains in the 30’s and 40’s. This divergence will increase as December and January come with Andover getting colder and colder, but Conifer remaining 10 to 20 degrees warmer. Fortunately, this process reverses as Andover heats up, Conifer remains cooler and will eventually be cooler consistently than Andover during the summer months. From my perspective this is an ideal divergence from our norms here, mildly warmer in the winter, markedly cooler in the summer. And, yes, this factored in our choice of locations.

Going to lay down the broadcast in the vegetable garden and the orchard this morning, then mulch. Kate and Anne planted next year’s garlic crop while I was in Colorado. With no additional effort then, the new owners will have apples, pears, plums, cherries, currants, raspberries, gooseberries, strawberries, rhubarb, asparagus and garlic from their orchard and vegetable garden. In addition they will have daffodils, liguria, monkshood, many varieties of Asiatic lilies, iris and hemerocallis. Clematis, daffodils, tulips and fall crocus will IMAG0683bloom, too. Wisteria, lilac, bushy clematis and snakeroot put fragrance, delicate and sweet, in the air. They will have three different sheds in which to organize their outdoor life and a firepit for family evenings. There are, too, the separated plantings of prairie grass and wildflowers that bracket the front lawn, providing habitat for butterflies and other wildlife.

In addition the property has about 1.5 acres of woods, including a morel patch that shows up in the late spring. With the inground irrigation system this is a place for a person with an interest in living closer to the earth and harvesting the literal fruits of such a lifestyle.

Included with the property is enough woodenware to get a beekeeping hobby started.