Category Archives: Minnesota

Memories, Minnesota, Mountains, Plants, Reimaging revelation, Travel

The Wild Life

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Yule and the Moon of Deep Friendship

Tuesday gratefuls: Sue Bradshaw.  Shadow, bone crusher. Warming. A bit of Snow. Marilyn and Irv. Roxann and Tom. Jessie. Minnesota, leading the way. Non-violent resistance. Just folks saying no. Australia Day yesterday. On this side of the dateline. The Emirates. Saudi Arabia. Desert monarchies. Iran. Israel. Palestinians. Egypt. Jordan. Syria. Lebanon. Iraq. Kuwait.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Circle Route around Lake Superior

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Year Kavannah: Creativity.   Yetziratiut.   “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” ― Pablo Picasso

Week Kavannah: Rachamim. Compassion.

While chesed (lovingkindness) often refers to a choice of action, rachamim is deeply tied to visceral emotion and empathy—feeling the pain of another. 

Tarot: Page of Bows, the Stoat

  • Connection to Nature: The Stoat serves as a guide to help you reconnect with the sacredness of the ground beneath your feet

One brief shining: The wild streets where violence and dominance meet love and resistance, a reminder that our animal natures lie not far beneath the veneer of civilization, only waiting the right insult to emerge, leap the whole construct of ego and superego, let that id out to play.

https://www.duluthharborcam.com/p/canal-park-cams.html

Minnesota on my mind: There is a spot on I-35 heading north where your vehicle crests a rise and suddenly, in the interior of the North American continent, lies a huge body of water and two port cities, Duluth in Minnesota and Superior in Wisconsin. From that crest you can see the shipping canal visible if you click on the link above. A shipping canal! On a Lake.

If it’s summer, Lake Superior straddles the horizon, a blue reflection of a northern Sky. In winter the Great Lake might be frozen or might be, as it had been on this cam for several days, a scrim of slate gray with Water Vapor boiling off it.

I never tired of seeing Lake Superior just as I never tire of living in the Rocky Mountains. Different geographical features, yes, but equal in majesty and wonder. Twice I drove all the way around Lake Superior, 1,300 miles. The shoreline itself is 2,726 miles. A big Lake.

We live our Mayfly lives in the presence of miracles. Black Mountain. The Front Range. Lake Superior. You. Your friends. The Atlantic and the Pacific. The Mississippi and the Nile. Africa and Asia. Wild Neighbors like the Mountain Lion of Pacific Heights in San Francisco. Kangaroos and swooping Magpies.

See what you’re looking at.

 

Soul work: Is easy. Let no one fool you. No clergy, no self-help guru, no psychologist. All you have to do? See what you’re looking at. Hear the world around and within you. Let your hand brush over the coarse bark of a tree. Smell that Wood-burning stove. Or a Stargazer Lily. Taste your morning coffee and, in your mind’s eye trace back to the hand that dug the clay and the one who shaped the mug, the Coffee Tree, the Bean picker, the who dried the beans, who packaged them.

Then. Notice who saw. Who heard. Who smelled. Who touched. Who tasted. Really notice. If it was the One within who saw the miracle revealed by each sense, that’s your soul. If it’s not, repeat until it is. Easy.

Minnesota, Politics, US History

Love is the Power.

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Yule and the Moon of Deep Friendship

Monday gratefuls: Good sleeping. Cold weather. A bit of Snow. Shadow, sleeping. Roxann, recovering. Tom, too. Jessie. Alex Pretti. Rene Good. Minnesota strong. January in Minnesota. Marilyn and Irv. Tara and Eleanor. Paul, shoveler of Snow. Braiding Sweet Grass. Furious Minds. Prostate Cancer. Western medicine.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Minnesota

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Year Kavannah: Creativity.   Yetziratiut.   “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” ― Pablo Picasso

Week Kavannah: Rachamim. Compassion.

While chesed (lovingkindness) often refers to a choice of action, rachamim is deeply tied to visceral emotion and empathy—feeling the pain of another. 

Tarot: #6, The Forest Lovers

The Forest Lovers represent a positive spiritual force of creative emotional energy and a universal desire for harmony. The inhabitants of the Greenwood revere and respect the rites of love as the force that ensures the unfolding cycle of creation and emotional stability. Always bring the light of love with you; allow it to illuminate the darkest corners of your world and support you through whatever you set out to do.

One brief shining: Yogurt, yes, cheese and Egg burrito, yes, protein bar, yes, a tin of Sardines, yes and I’ve hit sixty grams of protein, ah, still finessing my diet, the biggest challenge of my life after Kate’s death, neither great nor bad, if not quite good, nourishment, I know. I know.

 

Tarot: I’m so glad I drew the Forest Lovers this morning. The Birch Tree wound with green Vines reminds me of Minnesota, especially the Arrowhead where Paper Birch, Aspen, Balsam, Spruce, Jack Pine, and White Pine continue the southern reach of the Boreal Forest, enclosing the many Lakes there and providing habitat for Moose, Wolves, Canadian Lynx, Black Bears, canoers, and other Wilderness loving tourists.

The reminder of Wild Minnesota and the reminder of the power of love to illuminate even the darkest corners of our world encourages me to see our political dark corner from a different vantage.

Non-violence as a strategy assumes power comes from helping others see the oppression, the injustice that can only endure when people of conscience look away, pretend it isn’t there. Non-violence chooses love as a healing force, as a way to make change, to be the difference the protester wants to see in the world.

There is an argument that non-violence cannot work in an authoritarian polity, like say Hitler’s Germany. If the ruling authority does not care about public perception, about individual human lives, then protest can be silenced either though violence or stopping it before it happens.

While it’s true that the Miller/Trump/Noem worldview reads as authoritarian, and that the leadership of ICE and the Border Patrol are outright authoritarians, we’re not Germany in the 1930’s. Not yet.

Why? Because there are still millions who love freedom, liberty, and justice. Sure most would rather ignore the immigrant among us. Many never encounter an immigrant, documented or undocumented.

But the love of our friends and neighbors in Minnesota will not let us look away. They brave the cold and the danger to awaken that ember within, to ignite a Wildfire of love that can burn down the twisted, dark forest of hate. Open your heart and you will become a wildfire of your own.

I will never forget Rene Good and Alex Pretti who gave their last full measure of devotion. I hope you won’t either.

Family, Far Right, Friends, Minnesota, Politics, White Supremacy

Sad. Yes. Despair. No.

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Yule and the Moon of Deep Friendship

Sunday gratefuls: Minnesota. Each whistle. Each winter garbed protester. Each person of brown skin living there. Each act of defiance. The wonderful spirit of all those out in sub-zero weather melting ICE. Shadow, who comes inside. Work outs. The haiku writing glass lady of Bernal Hill. Its owls, coyotes, dogs. Counterrevolutionaries. Against radical reactionaries.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: America

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Year Kavannah: Creativity.   Yetziratiut.   “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” ― Pablo Picasso

Week Kavannah: Rachamim. Compassion.

While chesed (lovingkindness) often refers to a choice of action, rachamim is deeply tied to visceral emotion and empathy—feeling the pain of another. 

Tarot: King of Vessels, Heron

The King of Vessels (Heron) encourages you to trust your intuition and move through life with the calm assurance of someone who understands their place in the natural world.

One brief shining: Shadow goes out and comes in, rolls her red Kong ball, eating treats as they fall out, picks up her Barkely bone with the marrow now licked out, grinds it in her strong jaw, grating her teeth, flops over on her back still holding the bone, another Mountain morning well underway while the America we once knew lies broken, a ravaged bone beneath the feet of oh, so sad delusionaries.

Here’s my letter to the editor on an NYT article: Watching America Unravel in Minnesota.

Yes, the American government has revealed its dark, dystopian nature and how this ugly chapter can only worsen. It is unraveling.

But not America. As a 40-year resident of the Twin Cities, I’ve never been more proud of my adopted home state. America has shown up on the streets of Minneapolis, in a thousand acts of protest, in a general strike!

Bend no knee. Blow a whistle. Organize your neighbors. Say no to tyranny. That’s my America. And, my Minnesota.

I wish I had a lighter side to offer this morning, something to whisk away the descending darkness, reveal the ohr that I know lies hidden under the masked, jackbooted thugs, yes, even them. All I’ve got is a faith in the millions and millions of Americans who know in their heart that shooting civilians, killing them has never been acceptable. Who know that the deaths create martyrs for the cause of liberty and justice for all.

I cannot tell you the depth of my sadness. My ongoing grief as this, this tawdry simulacrum of democracy, continues to lay waste to American cities, laws, norms of decent behavior. At how it feels to near my 79th birthday and find my home shaken to its core, divested of harmony, all in service of long discredited ideas: xenophobia, white supremacy, oligarchical greed, and a devastating lust for power.

Yes, sad. Despair, no. My Wild Neighbors continue to thrive. Shadow sleeps after her morning’s play. I have family I love. Friends I love. Artemis has Garlic Cloves ready to send up Scapes in the warmth of Spring. Tara and I will plan our gardens this Tuesday. My birthday present to her. Ruth has begun her training to become a phlebotomist. Gabe feels life beginning to change as he enters the last semester of his senior year. Roxann had a successful procedure. Tom and Jessie supported each other. Alan has a new left knee. Life continues.

 

Minnesota, Myth and Story, Reimaging revelation, Seed Keepers, Weather +Climate, World History

Is This a Friendly Place?

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Yule and the Moon of Deep Friendship

Shabbat gratefuls: Shadow, chewer of bones. Ruth and phlebotomy. Gabe beginning to grasp leaving home. Rabbi Jamie, grieving his dad. Tom and Jessie. Roxann. Star Trek: Discovery. Joe and Seoah. Afar Hafar. Down Under Melbourne. Up high Shadow Mountain. Minnesota. Its culture.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Science Fiction

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Year Kavannah: Creativity.   Yetziratiut.   “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” ― Pablo Picasso

Week Kavannah: Rachamim. Compassion.

While chesed (lovingkindness) often refers to a choice of action, rachamim is deeply tied to visceral emotion and empathy—feeling the pain of another. 

Tarot: Page of Bows, Stoat

  • Spirituality: It represents a free spirit, a prodigy, and the realm of dreams and visions.
  • Connection to Nature: The Stoat serves as a guide to help you reconnect with the sacredness of the ground beneath your feet

One brief shining: Waiting outside while a loved one is in a surgical suite, a shiva minyan, a young man looking into the future, a young woman educating herself with joy, people close to me at inflection points, moments when life can feel the wind shear of change, perhaps moments after which the journey alters in a significant way. Bless them all.

 

First. Minnesota. Land of 10,000 protesters. A general strike! From the yesteryear of the labor movement. Wonderful. Chesed, loving kindness in concrete action. Solidarity. Across racial, class, and sexual preference lines. Our America live now on the streets of my former, yet forever home.

100 clergy arrested at the airport. Those who know justice will roll down like a Spring Mountain Stream. Those who feel the oneness, who pray for peace and acts of compassion. Those who risk themselves to say NO to this Stephen Miller fever dream, this Trumped up version of law enforcement. My peeps.

I could not be more proud of this out of the way state, on nobody’s well traveled path, up north, bordering Canada. Yes. That Canada. Who also stood up to our naked would be autocrat.

Minnesota, the only state in the lower 48 which never lost its Wolves. Landed sister to the great Gitchee Gummi. Where the Boreal Forest sweeps around crystalline Lakes carved out by receding glaciers. Where the Anishinaabe and the Lakota  have lived for centuries. A beautiful, proud state with a long history of radical politics, of caring for the other, of owning the past and its failures. Of looking for solutions that include, not divide.

These cruel, cold weeks we are all Minnesotans. Melting ICE. Showing love for our neighbors. Standing tall against injustice.

 

Second, is the universe a friendly, unfriendly, or neutral place? A question Einstein saw as the most important of all as humanity advanced into an increasingly technological future.

Perhaps since late high school, certainly since my first philosophy class, I’ve been in the neutral camp. I never believed in a god that reached into human lives and changed them. Or, one that changed history. My gods were abstract expressions of human projection. Merciful, demanding, angry, loving, just. As we are.

Once I disabused myself of gods altogether, I saw the universe as awesome, wondrous, and indifferent. How could it be otherwise? An infinite game of pool with one atom striking another, repeat, form something new, repeat, until without a guiding hand, on this Rocky, Watery world evolution took hold. As wondrous and awesome as the creation of the universe, but still random. Mutations, extinctions. until, in a rare geological epoch, a goldilock moment favored a bipedal life form with a big brain. Could have been otherwise, eh?

Well, yes. It could have been. But it wasn’t. This last week I’ve considered all the same data and have come to a different answer to Einstein’s question.

Friendly, I now see. The universe is friendly. How could it be otherwise. Random its working may have been, yet can I deny that those random acts of Star creation, solar furnaces in which the elemental structures of the universe were brought into being, did not seed the Galaxies and Solar Systems with the needed material to create Water, Mountains, Land, life?

And, can I deny that over the 4 billion year history of this single Planet-one of trillions captive to those solar furnaces-the interactions of gravity, erosion, freezing and thawing, lightning strikes, volcanic explosions made it possible for the vagabond continent of Africa to become home to the hominid evolutionary path that led to Homo Sapiens.

Further, can I deny that that evolutionary path led some early humans out of Africa and into what is now Europe, India, China and that further travels of my/our ancestors eventually found what is now the Americas.

Lastly, can I deny that if the long, amazing chain of atoms striking atoms, the kindling of Stars, the subsequent creation of Planets and solar systems, the emergence of life on Earth, and the long, long, long path leading to Mom and Dad, which led to my birth proves the universe to be friendly? I cannot. Neither, however, do I believe that the universe qua universe works as a somehow god, finding our everyday actions a place to intervene.

Yet, we are all part of this marvel, this miracle and in that connectedness find our mutuality, not only with other humans but with the Bear, the Lion, and the Platypus, the Ocean and the Desert, the fertile Land and the frozen poles. And even the most distant Stars and Galaxies.

Far Right, Minnesota, Politics, US History

Minnesota Proud

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Yule and the Moon of Deep Friendship

Monday gratefuls: The Ancient Brothers on books. Rams v Bears. Cold. A dusting of Snow. Field Guide to the Soul. Shadow, her joy. My joy. Mary’s pics of the Royal Show in Melbourne. (think State Fair) Mark’s conversation with Salman, his student. Joe back home. Ruth and her new car. Morning darkness.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Books

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Year Kavannah: Creativity.   Yetziratiut.   “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” ― Pablo Picasso

Week Kavannah: Daat.    The Bridge Between Mind and Heart

“If Chokhmah (Wisdom/Inspiration) is a seed and Binah (Understanding/Analysis)  is the soil that develops that seed into a plant, Da’at is the nervous system that carries the vital life force from the brain to the rest of the body. It is the point of transition from “thinking” to “being.””

Tarot: Two of Arrows, Injustice

“The scales of natural justice have been skewed by false judgments, ignorance, or arrogance. Sitting in judgment with unbalanced scales to an untrue premise, however ardently or sincerely, will not prevail. The bow is broken and useless through prejudice and misuse.” Parting the Mist

One brief shining: Martin Luther King would have stood with the protesters, blown a whistle, followed ICE agents, taken videos of their corrupt action; wherever the scales of justice stood unbalanced, weighted on one side by ignorance or arrogance or false judgments, his moral compass led him to the other side of the scale. Minnesota proud.

Gemini struggles with images, too. But you get the point.

Never felt so much pride in my home of forty years, Minnesota. Pushing back against corporate and government arrogance runs through the veins of Minnesota’s left, sure, but it also comes naturally to a Scandinavian influenced culture which believes the common good should drive decisions.

It does not surprise me that just folks have their whistles, neighborhood phone trees, and a willingness to stay in the fray. Nor does it surprise me that Tim Walz and Jacob Frey (mayor of Minneapolis) have called out the storm trooper invasion by red tie guy and that weasel, Miller.

When I first moved to Minnesota in 1970, the anti-war movement had a very strong presence. When police came to arrest a student at my seminaryfor draft evasion, a guy I didn’t know very well offered to ride along with him.

Howard Vogel, who became a good friend and would go on to win a landmark environmental lawsuit against Reserve Mining Company, surprised the arresting officers with his humble appearance and his knowledge. My friend came back to the seminary that same day.

I spent fifteen years organizing in Minnesota. It was never difficult to find ordinary citizens who understood why it was not a good idea for Control Data to run the Elliot Park neighborhood. Or, why General Mills didn’t belong in the landlord business in Steven’s Square Park.

The Democratic Farmer Labor party, the DFL, has its roots in radical left politics. A Minnesota third party, the populist and leftist Farmer-Labor party merged with the state’s Democratic party in 1944. Hubert Humphrey. Walter Mondale. Paul Wellstone. Al Franken. Standard bearers.

What a state.

Family, Far Right, Memories, Minnesota, Politics, US History

It’s Minnesota

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Yule and the waning crescent of the Moon of New Beginnings

Friday gratefuls: Joe. Ruth. Gabe. College. Andover. Tulips. Iris. Anemones. Grape Hyacinth. Daffodils. Wild Roses. Wild Grapes. Borage. Sage. Thyme. Rosemary. Leeks. Garlic. Red Onions. The Firepit. The Woods. All the Dogs. Canning. Drying. Harvesting Honey. A life close to Mother Earth.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Joe

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Year Kavannah: Creativity.   Yetziratiut.   “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” ― Pablo Picasso

Week Kavannah:  Wholeness. Shleimut.

“The concept of shleimut extends beyond the individual, applying to relationships (finding a life partner with whom one feels complete) and the community (mending societal cracks to achieve collective creativity and flourishing).”

Tarot:  Two of Vessels, Attraction

The Two of Vessels Wildwood Tarot asks us: In your life, what is attracting your attention? Is it worthy of your attention or a distraction?

One brief shining: “Goodnight, Joe,” I said; he returned, in words sweet to my one good ear, “Goodnight, Dad,” and in that familiar family ritual called back a childhood of stories and bedtimes, of meals at Mickey’s Diner, of playing catch in Irvine Park with the giant Oak as backstop, of silly plays and choral evenings, of attending Twins games, driving into St. Paul together.

 

Fathers and sons. Can go wrong. As it did with my Dad and me. Can be neutral as it is for some. Also can remain positive over all the years from first sight of that wicker basket to 44 years later. Joe was a stable, happy kid who made and kept close friends from elementary school through high school and college and in his work. Sang Yang. Zach White. Aaron Canner. David. Natcho. Jamie. Ken. Many others.

It makes my heart sing to see the man he has become. An excellent husband, a caring boss, a thoughtful person. A Godparent who actually had to step into that role. How he parents Ruth and Gabe, even from afar. A person in your life  you can trust.

 

Just a moment: I know. I feel like I should be saying more about Renee Good. ICE in Minnesota. Still sorting through feelings of dismay, anger, sadness, pride. Dismayed that red tie guy’s brownshirts have descended on my old home ground. Angry that I’m not there to work with protesters, stand against this insult. Sad for Renee, her wife, her kids, her friends.

Yet also proud. I know Minnesota at a heart level. I know Minneapolis streets, parks, neighborhoods, people. I know the government and how it works. I know Renee’s death will not go unanswered by street politics. I know the state will investigate her death, even if the Federal Government tries to paper it over with lies and ignorant propaganda.

Will Ross be brought to account? If it was up to Minnesota’s Attorney General, Keith Ellison, I know he would be. Whether the complicated network of laws and jurisdictions between states and the Federal Government will allow that, I don’t know.

If any state in the country can stand against this abuse of Federal power, it’s Minnesota.

 

Memories, Minnesota, Politics, US History

Renee the Good. Is dead.

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Yule and the Moon of New Beginnings

Friday gratefuls:  Shadow, the awake. Cold night. Snow. Morning darkness. Light-headedness. Mussar. Altitude. Distracted. A bit dizzy. Working my scheduled review of newspapers, websites, podcasts. Doing further research on Pan. On the luparii. Reimagining Superior Wolf. Minnesota. Proud to have lived there forty years. Colorado. Proud to have lived here eleven years.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Minnesota

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Year Kavannah: Creativity.   Yetziratiut.   “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” ― Pablo Picasso

Week Kavannah:  Patience.  Savlanut.  “Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Tarot: Back at it soon

One brief shining: Rene the Good died at the hands of an ICE firearms trainer after another ICE agent had threatened her by trying to open the door of her Honda Pilot and shouting in her rolled down window, “Get the fuck out of the car.” As she turned her vehicle away to leave, she received a bullet to the head.

 

Don’t cry for me, Minnesota. The truth is I never left you. How I felt when I saw the familiar setting in Powderhorn Park. That maroon SUV parked diagonally on Portland. The so-out-of-place government provocateurs with masks-masks!-hiding their identities. ICE. A Trump militia spreading fear and chaos in American cities.

In Minneapolis. Wrong place to kill an unarmed woman. Minnesotans. Will. Not. Stand. For. This. The Federal government, Kash Patel’s oh so trustworthy FBI, took over the investigation. Minnesota’s criminal justice system would have arrested and charged the ICE agent with first degree murder. No wonder the FBI stepped in.

I would rather have local authorities investigating. Especially the state attorney general’s office. Though. Based on video and eye-witness testimony I don’t see any wiggle room. While Renee had disregarded an order, she turned her SUV away from the agents to drive from the scene. That’s clear from the video examinations done by the New York Times. There was nothing in her movements that warranted gun fire.

My heart leapt back into Minnesota on seeing this news. Became one again with the street level politics I knew so well there. Powderhorn Park has an active political community, many leftists, anarchists, co-op folks.

The glaring, searing contrast between masked agents of fear and the community oriented spirit of Powderhorn Park struck me forcefully, enough to make me gasp.

I don’t know how to say what I’m feeling. Minnesota and its politics of the common good has been my North Star. Flawed, sure. Full of humans. But there I found the arc of the moral universe bent a little further toward justice than most places I knew. Minnesota shaped me into the man I am now and I like who I am now.

This brutal, senseless killing shows the moral sinkhole that hate and bigotry have created in our national spirit. This is not how Americans are. Is it?

A shining city on the hill. A beacon to other nations. No longer. We will, if we have not already, become a pariah state, only engaged in actions in our perceived self-interest. Not my America.

Colorado, Dogs, Far Right, Minnesota, Politics

Shhh

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Yule and the Moon of New Beginnings

New Year’s Day gratefuls: Nathan. The Dog run. Beef tenderloin. Broccolini. Seasoned Potatoes. Joe. Murdoch. Seoah. Solid wood cutting boards. Cooking. Shrimp and cocktail sauce. 2026. Morning darkness. 250 years, USA. The Hummingbird. Dandelion. Bread Lounge. Wildflower. The Black Bird. Primo’s. Aspen Perks. Conifer Cafe. Lucille’s. The Cow. Breakfast, the friendship meal.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: My Shadow pillow

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:  Gevurah   strength, discipline

Creating Space: “Gevurah is the strength to create space and to hold space… it’s what helps us nurture our passions.” — Renee Fishman

Tarot: Doing a Celtic Cross spread for the New Year

One brief shining: Laid out in ten foot runs the six foot tall chain link fence with a gate will enclose Shadow in a smaller space, one with an igloo Dog house and outdoor heater, making her world more manageable for me, more confining for her, yet necessary if we’re to continue living together. Nathan comes today.

Dog journal: Ruth’s Hannukah present to me. A Shadow pillow. Very sweet.

Been a month full of Shadow related matters. Finding Nathan to build the Dog run. Natalie picking up Shadow for boarding school. Dr. Josy checking her over and prescribing prozac. Shadow learning how to cross thresholds and have a leash put on. Staying connected with Shadow as she learned new behaviors. When she returns this Saturday, she will have been with me exactly eleven months.

Not an easy first year. For either of us.

 

Just a moment: Proud to live in Colorado and to have lived in Minnesota. Targets of he who shall be named bad man, very bad man. Down, bad man.

That guy stopped funding for an Arkansas River diversion project conceived during JFK’s presidency and about to deliver fresh water to 50,000 Coloradans who have to buy bottled water for drinking and cooking. Funny thing. Everybody’s favorite gun-totin, companion groping female member of the House of Representatives, Lauren Boebert, has pilloried red tie guy over the decision.

Why? For starters, those Coloradans are in her district. Yep, Colorado’s ruby red 4th district. Those same Coloradans? Trump voters most likely. But, the paw of the large animal inhabiting the White House reached down and vetoed Boebert’s legislation.

Trump has targeted Minnesota and Colorado as blue state enemies. “I wish them the worst,” said far right Christianity’s lode star. He’s mean, cruel, vindictive, and petty. Oh, right. And, President. Almost makes me wish for the second coming. Get a righteous judge down here.

He’s gone after Minnesota’s Somali community and the country from which they came. Now he’s suspending support to Minnesota child care. I wish he was a bull in a china shop. We’d be experiencing far less damage.

Wait till he finds out that Phillip Weiser, our attorney general who has sued Trump’s administration over 30 times in the past year, is a favorite to replace current Colorado Governor Jared Polis. Not just those lawsuits, no sirree. Weiser is a Jew. So is Polis. Shhh.

Ancient Brothers, Cooking, Memories, Men, Minnesota, Myth and Story

Santas

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Yule and the Moon of New Beginnings

Monday gratefuls: Cold Hafar. Mark invigilating. Cold night, good sleeping. Your favorite place. Mine is right here on Shadow Mountain. Ruth, skiing A-Basin. Gabe sorting through Jon’s art. Shadow’s last week in boarding school. Sue Bradshaw. Ana. Sheetpan meals. One of my own. Working out again. The Hummingbird.

Sparks of Joy and Awe:

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:  Gevurah   strength, discipline

Creating Space: “Gevurah is the strength to create space and to hold space… it’s what helps us nurture our passions.” — Renee Fishman

Becoming a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Cutup the Spring Onions, added brightly colored strips of Bell Peppers, some Garlic, Olive Oil, Salt, Pepper, stirred them together to coat everything, all spaced evenly in one of my Nordicware quarter sheetpans, baked at 425 for ten minutes, then put Andouille and Italian sausages on top of them and baked 30 minutes more and soon I had at least five meals ready.

 

Cooking: Beginning to understand how to build my own sheetpan meals. Their virtue lies in their short prep, ability to accommodate diverse ingredients, ease of cooking, and limited cleanup. Just the sheetpan and whatever prep left over.

Once finished, I eat one meal right away, then portion out the rest in containers, pop them in the fridge, and I have my own meal service. Today I’m making Salmon fillets with baby potatoes and perhaps broccoli florets.

The nerve ablation has removed my back pain on my left side, so I can stand longer while prepping and cooking.

Still weak though, stamina sucks. I wanted to add sauerkraut to the sausage meal, but I’m too weak to open the f*!#&ing jar. Same with the Sour Cherry preserves I wanted to put on my toast. Geez. My modest goal is to get back enough grip strength to manage these simple tasks. I’m working on it.

Glad to be back in the kitchen, cooking for myself. I prefer my own food and the nerve ablation plus my new resistance work regimen enables me to get back at it.

 

Santa: Ancient Brother Mark told a great Santa story yesterday morning. Worth sharing.

When he lived in Marine on St Croix, Mark contacted a Santa to come for a pre-Christmas gathering at his house. Christopher was young, 3 or 4, and Mark invited a few other families with young kids. It was a Christmas party and the children had not been told Santa was coming.

After the party was underway, a pickup truck pulled up in the driveway and a man with a real great white beard got out, came around to the backdoor, and walked in, saying nothing. The kids stared.

Still saying nothing he went over to the fireplace and shined a flashlight up the fireplace chimney, checked the damper by opening and closing it.

“I’m one of the Santa’s.” he told the by now confused and wondering kids. “We have to go out and check chimneys to be sure Santa can get down them.” He went on to explain that there were many, many Santa’s. “Making Christmas happen is a big, big job.”

Mark and his friends tried to pay him, but he refused the money. “Don’t blow it for me, man. It’s for the kids.”

Memories, Minnesota, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate

Blowin’ In the Wind

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Samain and the waning crescent of Shadow’s Moon

Thursday gratefuls: High winds. Mini-splits out. Generator on. Kylie, pain doc today. Shadow on her leash. Making progress at boarding school. Rachel, my Alabama gal palliative care social worker. Her Cat and her Christmas Tree. Trash containers stayed stable until pickup. 80433, my zip code, 98% effected by power outage.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Generator

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:   Netzach   “Endurance and Tenacity: Netzach represents the inner strength and fortitude required to pursue a goal or a passion over a long period, especially when faced with obstacles.”

Becoming a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Winds have howled like lonely Wolves since yesterday morning, rattling windows, threatening to up turn trash containers and share our leftover stuff with our neighbors, predicted to last now until tomorrow, Friday, morning; the Wind wants to come inside, find a crack, a slightly open window, an unsecured door, a real force of nature.

On one sweaty Andover, Minnesota afternoon Kate and I sat at our long kitchen table, talking about how good the air-conditioning felt. Kate got serious. We need a generator. I knew what she meant. If the heat went out in a frigid Minnesota winter, Kate could cope. If the air-conditioning failed us because of our common summer Thunderstorms, she could not. A hot-blooded Norwegian gal, my Kate.

We gritted our financial teeth and bought a Kohl whole-house generator. These generators connect to gas lines and have automatic transfer switches that sense a power outage. The transfer switch turns on the generator and switches its output to the house’s electrical panel. Happy Kate. Happy me.

We got satisfaction out of being “on generator.” Its two cylinder engine’s thrum proof that we had made a wise decision. When we moved, I decided we’d take the generator along. Not easy, it had to be strapped to a pallet and lifted into the moving van by four very strong guys.

It got off-loaded to the garage and there it sat for over a year as I learned how to deal with a paucity of trades people in the mountains. Finally found Altitude Electric who agreed to install it. The generator sits today on the western side of the house, beside all the electrical panels and the transfer switch. Yes, up here all of the electrical panels live on the outside of the house. Surprised the hell outta me.

Yesterday around one p.m. I read on Next Door Shadow Mountain that one guy’s weather station had recorded a Wind gust of 116 mph. I found it  hard to believe until I looked this morning at reports of wind speeds across the Front Range. Several in the 100, 102 range. So. Could be.

Around that time my lights flickered, my zoom call with Paul crashed and we had to switch to our phones to finish our conversation. Not long after I got off the phone, I heard that thrum again.

Hey, Kate. We’re on generator.