• Category Archives Minnesota

  • Could Be Fun

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Imbolc and the Waiting to Cross Moon

    Tuesday gratefuls: Happy Camper. Smiling Pig. Furball Cleaning. Chance of Snow. Bahrain Grand Prix Sunday. Red Bull. Ferrari. Mercedes. Aston Martin. Alpine. Alpha Tauri. Williams. McLaren. Haas. Alfa Romeo. Probate. House cleaning. Good sleep. Radiation. Pacific Cod. Breaded. Lodge skillets. Cooking. Findlay and the deer. Max. Kep. Tweaking his meds. Dr. Doverspike.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Workout yesterday. 110 minutes.

     

    Down a rabbit hole. A lot of my attention has gone to the Vanity Fair article Diane sent out. Fascinated. No, not going conservative. But the threads of political ideas active in the U.S. have entered a zone of extreme ferment. Not always visible.

    Ever since my Alexandria days fringe political movements have interested me. Even then, in the late 1950’s and 60’s, we had the John Birch Society, the Minutemen, and the Ku Klux Klan active in our town. One of our doctors was a Bircher. Founded in 1958 in Indianapolis one of its early members and top financial supporters was Fred Koch, founder of Koch Industries.

    Dad published a page or two from the John Birch Blue Book in the Times-Tribune, our local newspaper. It exposed the radical ideas held by Robert Welch, the Society’s Indianapolis based founder. Made me feel good to see Dad take a stand against them.

    Both the Birch Society and the Minutemen held strong and in the latter case, violent, anti-communist views. Wikipedia entry: “…observers have stated that the JBS and its beliefs shaped the Republican Party, the Trump administration, and the broader conservative movement.[18][19][20][21] Writing in The Huffington Post, Andrew Reinbach called the JBS “the intellectual seed bank of the right.”[22]”

    The KKK passed out leaflets in town from time to time and held recruiting drives at a local restaurant on Highway 9, aka the Highway of Vice Presidents (Dan Quayle and Benjamin Harrison were Hoosiers.)  The Klan has a long and infamous history in American fringe right wing circles, but the Birch Society and its effect on the Koch family has to get its props, too.

    What reading the Vanity Fair article did. First. Though perhaps still fringe movements in regard to the larger society the New Right, the Dissident Right, the Christian Nationalists, the Evangelical right, and the Trumpists do have a strong hold on the Grand Old Party. Second. Some, hardly all, but some of the ideas in the article resonated with my back to the land, anti-war, anti-establishment ideas of the late 1960s. Third. Got me wondering about if this might all weave together at some point. Far left. Crunchy right.

    Most of all. Back in the day. The day being 1968 in Muncie, Indiana. Not all that far from Indianapolis. I told Bill Hariff, leader of the SDS on Ball State’s campus. I want to be a theoretician for the revolution. I know. Naive. Precious. Maybe even laughable.

    Yet. In these days of living on the mountain top. With a deep background in both the history and reality of right wing extremists and far left extremists. BTW: Among whom I still count myself. Could I take on a role as a writer about these movements? Maybe a new weekly blog? Say, notsoAncientrails. Wondering. Or, help organize an online think tank that might do for the next New Left what the Birchers seem to have done for today’s buffet of conservative ideas? Probably both have been done and I don’t know about them. Still. Could be fun.


    Minnesota Politics Shadow Mountain US History

  • Waiting To Cross

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Imbolc and the Waiting to Cross Moon

    Monday gratefuls: Dr. Eigner. Dr. Simpson. Kep, the early. Snow. More Snow. Mild temperatures. The Ukraine. Biden. The James Webb. Tom and Bill, the science bros. Max, getting older. Ode, the well-rooted wanderer. Paul, the steadfast. Alan, the cheerful. The Ancient Brothers, a true Sangha. Zoom. Korean fried chicken. Jon, a memory. Kate, always Kate. Ivory. Ruby. Oncology.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Ancient Brothers

     

    So I said it out loud. My reaction to mom’s death turned me from a confident, ready to take on the world teenager to a frightened, hesitant young adult. One who dropped German because he was failing it. Shame. One who convinced himself there was not enough money for Wabash because he was afraid to go back. Shame. One who entered then a great teacher’s college, but a mediocre university. Ball State University. Shame.

    Not a lot of shame in my life. Very little. That’s where it lies. Perhaps now having put it out there. So late. 76. It will fall away. It took me years, nearly three decades, to put the pain of her death in perspective. Treatment for alcoholism. Quitting smoking. Quitting the ministry. Years of Jungian analysis. Finally. Meeting Kate. 26 years later. I finally passed the threshold of grieving mom’s death.

    And started living my life. As a writer. A gardener. A dog lover. A beekeeper. An anachronistic blogger. With a woman who loved me as I was and one whom I loved as she was. A love where we wanted and supported the best life for each other. We traveled. A lot. We stood with both sons fully.

    Abundance. Yes. Ode’s word for our Andover home. Yes. Flowers. Meadow. Fruits. Nuts. Berries. Grapes. Honey. Plums. Pears. Apples. Cherries. Iris. Tulips. Spring ephemerals. Roses. Hosta. Gooseberries. Beans. Heirloom tomatoes. Leeks. Garlic. Onions. Kale. Collard Greens. Lettuce. Carrots. Ground Cherry. Raspberries.

    The fire pit. The woods.

    The dogs. So many dogs. Celt. Sorsha. Morgana. Scot. Tira. Tully. Orion. Tor. The Wolfhounds. Iris. Buck. Hilo. Emma. Kona. Bridget. The Whippets. Vega and Rigel. The IW/Coyote Hound sisters. Gertie, the German Short Hair. And Kep, the Akita.

    It was so good. Until the work became burdensome. Until I visited Colorado one year and Ruth ran away from the door because she didn’t expect me. A surprise visit. Then we had to come. The two. A push. The work of Seven Oaks had become too much. A pull. We wanted, needed to be there for Ruth and Gabe.

    So we packed everything up. And on the Winter Solstice of 2014 moved here, to the top of Shadow Mountain. 8,800 feet above sea level. Into the Wildland/Urban Interface, the WUI. With four dogs: Kep, Gertie, Rigel, and Vega. Again, thanks to Tom for helping with the dog move.

    When the time came, we put away Andover and envisioned a life together in the Rocky Mountains. Kate felt like she was on vacation every day until she died. Where she found the Jewish life she had always wanted. Where we both found ourselves immersed in the lives of our grandchildren, of their parents.

    Now Kate is dead. Vega is dead. Gertie is dead. Rigel is dead. Only Kep and I remain alive. I’m at another threshold, waiting to cross.


    Anoka County Bees Colorado Dogs Family Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Garden Health Hermitage Jefferson County Judaism Memories Minnesota Mountains Our Land and Home Plants Shadow Mountain The Move Writing

  • Good memories

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Winter and the Wolf Moon

    Monday gratefuls: The Good Life. Helen and Scott Nearing. Kate and mine’s version. Garden catalogues. The Bees. Their Superorganism. The Squirrel that used to steal our Honeycrisp Apples. Gertie standing on my electric fence. Those first Shoots in the Spring. Grape anemones. Daffodils. Crocus. The eagerness to get out there. Plant something. Reluctantly waiting for May 15, the last frost. The Woods in Winter. That Opossum that visited me one Winter Solstice.

    Sparks of joy and awe: Horticulture

     

    Happy and fulfilling memories. The Andover years. Kate and I working as a team in the Vegetable Garden. I handled the Orchard, the Bees, and the Flower beds, but the ongoing work of the growing season in the Garden. A mutual task. Harvesting Honey. Also mutual.

    Kate earning money allowed me to work in the Gardens and in the Woods during the day. If I had worked full-time, we couldn’t have had as much. With writing I could take a break and plant. Cut wood. Tend to the Bees. We both felt the division of labor worked well.

    We did have a housecleaner. Cooking and shopping were also my responsibilities. It was a good life. And a level of physical effort we did not want to continue after we both got older. Moving to Colorado came at the right time in our lives. Out here we had the grandkids, CBE, the Mountains. Travel. Also a good life, one suited better to our energy.

    As I said in the Ancient Brothers yesterday, even the years of Kate’s decline were good years. Sure there was anguish, pain, frustration, anxiety. But we had three solid years of working closely together again to keep her healthy and alive. In her last year I would apply lotion to her arms and legs because they would get very dry. A lot of touching. Not the rosy glow of forgotten difficulty, rather the difficulty was the point. The connection. As our many hours in the garden had been all those years ago.

     

    The same with these years after her death. Two in April. The adjustments, the adaptations. The work on the house. They have been the necessary domestic duties that kept me grounded. As did caring for Rigel and Kep as they cared for me.

    Even the cancer. Not fighting it. Learning to live with it. With the now much reduced stamina occasioned by androgen deprivation therapy. Going slower. Doing things in slower increments. Resting more. Also a good life.

    Yes, I may recognize the benefits later. Sometimes in the moment. But, I do find them. More and more the realizations of the good life I’m living come to me daily. As a result, I’m calmer, more accepting.

    Blessed be.

     


    Anoka County Family Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Hermitage Memories Minnesota Mountains Shadow Mountain

  • Dutiful

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Winter and the Wolf Moon

    Sunday gratefuls: Breakfast with Jen, Ruth, Gabe, Barb. Driving back up the hill. F1. The MIA. The Walker. The docent program. My many years there with good friends and art. Acting class. Creativity class. Origins of North America. Finding the volume of a Mountain. Korean. Pruning moving forward. Interior painting, early February. Probate. Still moving. slow. ly. The Good Life. Scott and Helen Nearing. Eudaimonia. Kristen Gonzalez. Psoriasis. Mark and the USPS. Mary in Kobe. Ancient Brothers.

    Sparks of joy and awe: Eudaimonia

     

    Human flourishing. Eudaimonia. Satisfaction. More important than happiness. Duty is just another word for cultural norms received and accepted. Obligations. On the other hand. Imposed. Why do we do what we do?

    Assessing the life that is neither heroic nor mediocre. Since that’s where most of us end up. No need to measure ourselves against the ends of the bell curve. No need to measure ourselves. But can we be at peace with a life without comparisons?

    As for me, I choose eudaimonia. Flourishing. Satisfaction. And, yes. Duty plays a role. Family. Sacrifice. Friends too. Being there. Wherever love is, there is duty. To be honest. Sincere. Kind. Helpful. To support the best for the other. Right down to the end. And by implication to support the best for yourself. Also, duty. The unexamined life is not worth living. Yes. A duty to yourself to know thyself. And to thy own known Self be true.

     

    What’s interesting for me right now is how much a sense of duty has played in my life. Oh, no! The original oppositional defiant guy admitting to a sense of duty. I who even rebel against my superego. You can’t make me!!! Yes, duty.

    A minor yet significant example. As a convinced feminist of the Betty Friedan/Simone de Beauvoir second wave. At the age of 26. In seminary. Went to the Rice Street Clinic late on a Winter afternoon. A scalpel I felt on the first cut slashed my vas deferens on both sides. Shutting down sperm from my testicles. Being responsible for my own contraception.

    Another. One I’ve mentioned before. Fits here. No. I don’t want a Johns-Manville full scholarship to college. Managing people in a large corporation is not me. Will never be me. High school.

    Once convinced of Vietnam’s sturdiness as a nation, one that had held back China for over 3,000 years. No. I will not fight, nor support that war.

    After reading a convincing study about the future job prospects for Ph.D.’s. No to graduate school.

    Family. Staying in the fire with Jon. Ruth. Gabe. Kate in later life. Mark. Yet also. Cut your hair or leave! Leaving.

    These may not at first reading seem like duty. But they are. A duty to myself, to my own understanding of how to be present in the world.

    When I realized Ruth and Gabe needed us in Colorado. Broaching the idea of a move. Kate on board. Following through.

    Those two and a half acres in Andover. Leaving them better than when we bought them. How? Working it out with Kate over the years. Together. Staying the course with the full cycle of responsibilities throughout the year. Each year.

    And, dogs. Living into their lives. With them from puppyhood to death. Oh. Sweet duty. Painful duty. Life realized in full.


    Dogs Family Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Garden Great Wheel Great Work Health Hermitage Judaism Memories Minnesota Mountains Mussar Plants Politics Shadow Mountain The Move Writing

  • When I’m an adult, I’m going to live up here

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Winter and the Wolf Moon

    Friday gratefuls: Gabe. Shoveling. His comment about the Mountains. Driving into Denver. Freddie’s Steakburgers. Cheap down the hill gas. A waning 2022. Alan. 14 inches of Snow plowed. The Mountains in their Snowiness. Jeffco road crews. Garbage folks. Mail folks. School bus drivers. Tolls waived on I-70. Ruth seeing Gabe and Jen today. A pass. Cold. Good sleeping. The Snowiest months still ahead of us. The Rocky Mountains. The Laramide Orogeny.

    Sparks of joy and awe: Kep in the snow

     

    Vince, in spite of Covid, cleared my drive of its 14 inches of wet Springlike Snow. Not an easy job even with a plow. Folks with Snow blowers complained. Clogged chutes. Almost an inch of moisture. Helpful at this point in the season. Grateful.

     

    Gabe offered to shovel the Snow off the deck. He took weightlifting last semester. Stronger than me by far. I usually push it off the deck. When it’s powder, no problem. But 14 inches of wet snow. Hard. Gabe took it care of it with young muscles, lungs.

    He came up Wednesday afternoon. Had to go back yesterday because of the visit to Ruth today. As we went down the hill to his house in far northwest Denver, near the airport, we counted cars in the ditch. Only 9. Probably because the storm came at night and over a holiday week.

    When I’m an adult, I’m going to live up here. He said on the way down. He loves the Mountains. Gabe will spend New Year’s Eve at a friends house. Go out and bang pots and pans at midnight. Forgot about doing that. You could stay up this year Grandpop. I could. But I won’t.

     

    Kate and I never went out on New Year’s. Drunks on the road. Noise. Too many people. A quiet evening though we did make a point of watching the Vienna Philharmonic’s New Year’s concert the next morning. We always had a nice meal and stayed up a little later than usual. Occasionally I would make it all the way to midnight.

    Not sure what my solo New Year’s routine will be. A nice meal for sure. Something from Tony’s. Maybe a movie (on TV) and a book afterward. Stay up till 10?

    I remember one cold Minnesota New Year’s day. Sorsha a one-hundred and fifty pound IW bitch coal black and stubborn and I went up to Lake George for a walk. We went out on the Lake to the deserted Ice fishing houses, walked around and through them. Guessed the Ice fisherpersons still lay snug in their beds trying not to wake up. Hangover.

    Sorsha pulled on the lead. We rarely walked our I.W.’s. Back then I was strong from the gardening work and regular workouts. I could handle her. Now. It would have been a sled ride with me as the sled. The quiet. The isolation. Solitude. A wonderful memory. She was such a sweet dog. And a stone cold predator. Anything furry that crossed her path, including neighborhood cats.

     

    Brings up the memory of Anoka County. The unsung jewel of the Twin Cities metro. Scientific and Natural Areas. Carlos Avery Wildlife Preserve. The Cedar Creek research facility of the UofM. Various regional parks. I loved having access to all those places. Usually nobody was there.

     


    Anoka County Dogs Family Feelings Fourth Phase Hermitage Holidays Jefferson County Memories Minnesota Mountains Shadow Mountain Weather +Climate

  • So much to see. To learn.

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    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 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

  • Closing in

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Fall and the Simchat Torah Moon

    Friday gratefuls: Darkness at 7 am. Sleep. Up before Kep. Acting. Dr. Artov. Monologue. Ground pork. Potatoes. Cheese. Eggs. Breakfast. Rabbi Jamie. Jon, a memory. Kate, always Kate. Honing in on a decision. Ruth and Gabe. Those Foxes. Ode. Tom. Bill. Paul. My Ancient Brothers. Hawai’i. Emily. Michelle. Robin. Diane.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: See’s Candy

     

    Forgot to write yesterday. Got up at 10 till 8, fed Kep, talked to Diane, worked out, went to mussar, then talked to Rabbi Jamie. Home. Cooked. Spaced out till bed time. Not often, but yesterday I just plain forgot. Back at it right now as you can tell.

     

    Wednesday was a very productive day. Robin came with Michelle. Michelle was the muscle, a younger woman with work gloves and a plaid shirt. A kind, caring person. We marked the things in the garage that I want to keep or that can be sold. Everything else will get picked up by Reid and Gone For Good while I’m Hawai’i. Also all the stuff Diane removed from the wood cabinets will be taken by Michelle and Robin for donation. I’ll come back to a spacious garage. Gotta get out that power washer for the floors.

    They’re also going to move all the banker’s boxes in from the garage so I can sort through them. With Diane’s help last week and the work on Wednesday we’ve made real progress. It feels great. That large sack I’ve been pulling behind me since I lived in Irvine Park has begun to decrease in size. Significantly. Where ever I decide to go, whenever I decide to do it, I’ll have a move that’s both cheaper and easier. A new home setup that will go faster.

     

    About that. In mussar we talk about a balance. A midpoint between say pride and meekness. Humility. A midpoint between anger and passivity, assertiveness. A midpoint between apathy and co-dependence, loving-kindness. A mid-point for this move it turns out is staying in Colorado. In particular the Golden area.

    Advantages: Cheaper. Quicker. Easier. New place, yet familiar. Gabe and Ruth seen through high school. Easy access to Evergreen and CBE. A college town. My oncologist and Kristie. Personal growth. A chance to see Colorado, which I still haven’t done. Utah. Taos. Santa Fe. Four Corners.

    Neither the all out adventure of a move to Hawai’i or a return to the forty years familiar Twin Cities metro. In some sense Colorado is like both. There’s still a lot of Colorado (most) that I haven’t seen. Like Hawai’i and California Colorado is a place people from all over the world travel to see. Like Minnesota I have good friends here.

    Definite top of my list right now. We’ll see after Hawai’i. I’ll make a decision then. A major factor in where and when I go, too, is Kep. A lot of places won’t take Akitas, Minnesota, Hawai’i, Colorado. With his recent blindness and deafness I may choose to stay in place until his death, an earlier plan I scuttled when I learned about the tax consequences of selling the house after April 12th. Money is far from everything.

     

    Have delayed thinking about the trip to Hawai’i with all the stuff going on. Gotta check my meds, pack, get ready. Every thing is set up. Dog/house sitter. Parking spot. Airline tickets. Should be straight forward. Still needs to get done.

     

     


    Colorado Dogs Hawai'i Minnesota Shadow Mountain The Move Writing

  • Jerseys. Drug Holidays. Golden.

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    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.

     


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

  • Buttery

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Lughnasa and the Durango Moon (oops. Lughnasa. Not Imbolc. My bad.)

    Tuesday gratefuls: Not on a ventilator. Vaccines. Boosters. Omicron. Living in pandemic times. Caring friends. Who’ve kept touch. My body. Its immune system. A blue Colorado Sky. Hawai’i. Minnesota. The Soil. Here. In Minnesota. In Indiana, the best of the Hoosier State. The Volcanic Soil of the Hawai’ian Islands. Pele. Kiluaea. Mauna Loa. The great mystery of the World Ocean. the Kep. Dreams. Doubling down on moving. Back to it tomorrow. Ode’s hippy days. And, nights. Life after a harsh Covid slap. Sweeter, more precious.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Immune response

     

    Today I feel only tired. Brain fog lifted. No residual symptoms except for a slight cough. Amazing. Tomorrow will be a full week since I got so hammered by the virus that I could barely drag myself around. Memory of that Wednesday, wiped. Now, less than a week later, I’m on the up ramp toward feeling good. Virologists. Immunologists. Pharmaceutical workers. Pharmacies. Pharmacists. It takes a metropolis and lotsa labs to beat a virus. I’m thankful for all of them.

    This is a misery through which millions and millions have passed. And many succumbed. What better evidence do we need for our essential sameness? The virus doesn’t recognize skin color. Nationality. Ethnic origin. Religious preference or sexual preference. It recognizes the human body. The one we all share. Perhaps our mutual suffering can teach us what reason seems unable to.

    Suffering is as much a human common denominator as love. When our body sinks into pain, to illness, to fragility caused by a microscopic organism, we experience what others of our species experience. The agony of existence, its rough edges, its limits. When we feel love, we experience what others of our species experience. Its sublimity. its comfort, its infinite possibility.

    Find the wisdom about our common life in these most basic, universal and real shared moments. We all get sick. Suffer. We all fall in love. Rejoice. Let’s reach out to each other in both.

    On the last day of quarantine my doctor said to me, “Wear your mask if you go out. Stay away from crowds and crowded places. After next Monday, you’re good.” Gonna stay in for the next week anyhow. Nap. Gradually start exercising again. Eat more. She also said, get a flu shot as soon as you feel better. I will.

     

    Not said much about Lughnasa this year. But. Just read an NYT article about Princess Kay of the Milky Way. Got me going. Unless you live in Minnesota or are particularly attuned to its state fair traditions, you’ll not have heard of Princess Kay. Or butter sculpting. Let me explain.

    Each year (asterisk for the pandemic years) before the Minnesota State Fair begins its August through Labor Day run, a young woman leader of the state’s dairy industry is chosen. She becomes Princess Kay of the Milky Way. Since 1965 a full-sized bust of Princess Kay and the other four finalists has been sculpted in the butter booth of the Dairy building. Yes, that’s right. 900 pounds of butter, salted, gets shaped into the likeness of all five young women.

    You wouldn’t believe the ice-fishing on Lake Mille Lacs either. Minnesota has some strange traditions. That Winter Festival, too.

    The relationship to the Celtic holiday of Lughnasa (not Imbolc, that starts in February) is this: On August 1st the Celts began a market holiday for the first fruits from the field. Corn dollies. (wheat=corn) A parade with the first shock of wheat. Loaves of bread from the first harvested wheat. Thus, btw, the Catholic feast day of Lammas, or loaves.

    This agriculture celebration with feasting and games and display of farming’s first fruits of the year kicks off the three season harvest holiday that includes Fall on the autumnal equinox and Samain, or Summer’s End, on October 31st. It’s resonance continues in county fairs and state fairs in Great Britain and the U.S.

    On a personal note. In 1971 while an intern in Ada, Minnesota I participated in the wedding of the just chosen Princess Kay of the Milky Way. It was considered quite a privilege.

     


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  • My America

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Summer and the Aloha Moon

    Yesterday. In the front of my house.

    Tuesday gratefuls: The USA. America. The Rockies. The Great Lakes. The Great Dismal Swamp. The Appalachians. The Okefenokee Swamp. The Big Woods. Northern Minnesota. The Cascades. The Smokies. Blue Ridge Parkway. Natchez Trace. Mississippi Delta. The Bayous. The East Coast and the West Coast. The Mississippi and the Missouri. Hawai’i. Kilauea. Mauna Kea. Kauai. The Big Island. Bison. Elk. Mule Deer. Black Bear. Grizzly. Trout. Haddock. Lobster. Bass. Walleye. Muskie. The Tetons. The Great Plains. The High Plains. Denali. Tongass. Kodiak. Salmon. Seals. Otters. Sea Lions. Walrus. Lichens. Mushrooms. Douglas Fir. Lodgepole Pine. Ponderosa. Oaks. Maples. Ironwood. Woodchucks. Turtles. Grasses. Elms. Chestnuts. Hickories. All the wild things. All.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The soil of the Midwest.

    Tarot: Going to do a full spread

     

    I offer three long quotes from three different Americans. Tom Crane sent out the first a week or so ago. The other two have a central piece in my own thought and I’ve now added the Whitman piece. I present them to you after this 4th of despair and chagrin.

    They reflect, are, the America in which I still believe, of which I am a citizen, and for which I shall fight.

     

     

    Preface to Leaves of Grass

    by Walt Whitman

    “This is what you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body.”

     

    From the Introduction to Nature, by Ralph Waldo Emerson.

    “OUR age is retrospective. It builds the sepulchres of the fathers. It writes biographies, histories, and criticism. The foregoing generations beheld God and Nature face to face; we, through their eyes. Why should not we also enjoy an original relation to the universe? Why should not we have a poetry and philosophy of insight and not of tradition, and a religion by revelation to us, and not the history of theirs? Embosomed for a season in Nature, whose floods of life stream around and through us, and invite us by the powers they supply, to action proportioned to Nature, why should we grope among the dry bones of the past, or put the living generation into masquerade out of its faded wardrobe? The sun shines to-day also. There is more wool and flax in the fields. There are new lands, new men, new thoughts. Let us demand our own works and laws and worship.

    Undoubtedly we have no questions to ask which are unanswerable. We must trust the perfection of the creation so far, as to believe that whatever curiosity the order of things has awakened in our minds, the order of things can satisfy.”

     

    Henry Beston, The Outermost House: A Year of Life on the Great Beach of Cape Cod.

    “We need another and a wiser and perhaps a more mystical concept of animals. Remote from universal nature and living by complicated artifice, man in civilization surveys the creature through the glass of his knowledge and sees thereby a feather magnified and the whole image in distortion. We patronize them for their incompleteness, for their tragic fate for having taken form so far below ourselves. And therein do we err. For the animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete than ours, they move finished and complete, gifted with the extension of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear. They are not brethren, they are not underlings: they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendour and travail of the earth.”


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