Category Archives: World History

Judaism, Politics, World History

May It Be So

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Mabon and the Harvest Moon (for me and my gal, Shadow)

Tuesday gratefuls: Everwood. Treat Williams. The Morning Show. Reese Witherspoon. Jennifer Aniston. Steve Carrel. Ginny and Janice. Annie and Luna. Coming today. Cool morning. Tramadol plus acetaminophen. Nerve ablations. Coming soon. Shadow of the morning. Showers. Fresh Tomatoes. Garlic. Artemis. Simcha.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Seeing Ginny and Janice

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei and my trainer, Shadow

Week Kavannah: Simcha. Joy. Shadow of the morning.

Tarot: paused

One brief shining: Bought a small crystal ball with a stand that illuminates it, the Milky Way Galaxy embedded, so when I turn it on with a press of my finger, the awe and wonder of the universe pops immediately in front of me; I look for a moment at the small (oh, so relative) Orion Arm about half way from the galactic center and imagine that I see us, twirling around the center of the Milky Way at 500,000 miles per hour, this orbit finishing up in another 200 to 250 million years.

Just a moment: All the living hostages have come home. Israel sighs. At a celebration in Hostage Square on Saturday night the crowd booed at the first mention of Netanyahu’s name. (reported by Noa Limone, Haaretz, 10/13/25.) Of course Israel has to heal. Of course. So do the remaining inhabitants of Gaza. Healing in Israel can come only  if a full reckoning of Netanyahu’s lack of leadership and his collusion with far right Orthodoxy occurs.

This might be hard. Calls for unity, for looking across differences may suggest a soft approach to what needs to be a searing look at the immorality of Israeli leaders at every step in this war, including how the IDF could have allowed such an attack as October 7th. That is no small element for had the vigilance of the IDF on the Gaza been what it should have been this war could have been avoided.

But. It was not avoided. In its wake the limits of violence as a political solution got laid bare over weeks that turned into months, months into two full years of bombing and killing civilians. Enough. We need, Israel needs, the Palestinians deserve a two-state solution. If this can happen, then this tragedy may not have been in vain.

Yes, if you’re an Israeli, the thought of an independent Palestinian state may loom as a breeding ground for future attacks. And it may. Yet the pressure will be on all parties, Arab and Israeli, American and European, to create a lasting peace. None of the parties want everlasting war. Only the river to the sea militants and they will not get their way.

Israel, this strong, vibrant economic power house and refuge of last resort for a minority too often treated as the other, will remain. As will all the Arab states. Only peace can create a dynamic and flourishing Middle East. The time to build that reality starts now.

May it be so.

Health, Judaism, Politics, World History

The Knight Errant of Peace

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Mabon and the Harvest Moon

Monday gratefuls: Shadow and her lobster. Made of heavy duty stuff for aggressive chewers. Frost. 32 degrees. Cold frames at work. Tomatoes still yielding. Beets and Spinach and Kale ready for the final harvest before the Garlic comes. Carrots still growing. The Ancient Brothers on war. Hostages released. Trump does good. Cease fire holding.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Hostages released

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Simcha. Joy.   Cease fire.

Tarot: Paused

One brief shining: First average frost up here comes in early September; but, not this year-October 13th-after I pulled down the cold frame covers over Artemis’ outside raised beds, forty-eight degrees in the greenhouse itself, trying to extend an already extended growing season and succeeding, more vegetables to harvest.

 

Just a moment: Props, red tie guy. Donald J. Trump has brought the hostages home. I hereby dub thee Knight of Peace Errant and beloved of all Israel. Of course this should have not needed to happen, or should have happened months ago, but I will praise him for being instrumental in making it happen now.

So much suffering. Hamas won this war. Yes, quite a while ago. They calculated Israel would over react if they were horrible in every way on October 7th. Netanyahu’s right-wing coalition with segments of Israeli society who never fight for it ensured a long, brutal campaign to totally eliminate an idea.

That idea, Palestinian release from their long captivity to Jewish constrictions, cannot be eliminated. Should not be eliminated. Hamas reasoned that Israel’s reaction would raise the plight of Palestinians to world attention once again. And, if Israel over reacted, they could achieve a secondary aim of damaging Israel’s reputation among the world’s nations. Accomplished.

Israel, specifically Netanyahu and his ruling coalition, driven by a toxic mix of xenophobia and religious triumphalism wedded to the need of a corrupt leader to avoid prosecution, kept killing Palestinians long after their point had been made. Turning away aid from starving Gazans, bombing their hospitals, driving deeper and deeper into the constricted space which gave civilians no room to flee. Oh, Israel.

Like so many of my fellow Jews I support the existence of Israel, of a safe haven for Jews who need it. I do not and have not since early in the war supported the war aims of its blinkered and racist ruling coalition. Can we help a broken and self-terrorized country find a way toward peaceful coexistence? I see that as the major role for the diaspora now. Use our influence, our wealth and power, to help Israelis and Palestinians build a common, abundant life as neighbors. May it be so.

 

This week: Nerve ablations. Oddly this, the week when I might get relief from the pain I’ve experienced every day since September of 2023, my hip has chosen to worsen.

When I got back from seeing Gabe in Lakewood, my hip nearly drove me to the ground on the return home. Pain at 11 on the Richter scale. I see an orthopedist on November 11th. Might be difficult decisions ahead.

Health, Judaism, Politics, US History, World History

A Half-Teaspoon of Yellow Liquid

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Mabon and the oh so bright Harvest Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Laurie, PET scan tech. The rickety metal stairs. PET scan on wheels. Handicap placard. Shadow, my sweet girl. Kate, always Kate. Farmers. Gardeners. Horticulturists. Bee Keepers. Arborists. Seed Savers. Heirloom Seeds. Vegetables. Flowers. Fruit. Nuts. Herbs. Artemis. Fungi. Light Eaters. Peace.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Moonlight

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Yesod. Groundedness.

Tarot: paused

One brief shining: Shadow lifts the miniature tire high in the air, firmly gripped in her sharp teeth, shakes it as she holds tight, then on the ground, rolls over on her back and the tire does not yield, she presses harder, rolls again, shaking, shaking, until she decides to go for another toy.

 

Peace: Don’t know much about it yet. Headlines. Pictures of Israelis dancing. Trump’s great bulk swelling with dreams of Noble Prizes. Gazans, I imagine, collapsing with some relief though wary, caught still between Hamas and Jewish fears.

Still reeling. Trying to imagine this as the truth, bring it into my reality. Hoping. That other shoe not far off the floor. Time, tincture of time as my Kate would say.

The Middle East has changed in fundamental ways though we don’t what they are just yet. My hope is for a return to the Saudi/Israel/Emirates peace deal. A new axis of the self-interested, Sunnis and Jews together against Shia terrorism.

Another hope: Netanyahu prosecuted and jailed. War as a crime. Lengthening it for his own selfish, evil needs.

A Palestinian state. May it be so.

Until more becomes evident I finish this.

 

Just a moment: The Burger King as peacemaker? Hell, let him have the credit if the peace holds. Yet. What about peace at home? What about his war on the poor, the Brown, the non-Christian? Give peace afar and take it away here? Not the mark of a sane man.

We cannot let any adulation he receives paper over cuts to Medicaid and food stamps, to burning food and medicine already allocated for 3rd world peoples, to pressuring the courts with threats and bad lawyering, to stressing the strongest and best functioning economy in the world, to his destruction of our reputation abroad.

Still. A. Scumbag.

 

PET Scan: I rolled onto Dry Creek Road at 11:50 am, forty-five minutes from home, drove a short distance past Pulmonary Intensivists who treated Kate now long ago, and into the parking lot of Rocky Mountain Cancer Care. All medicine all the time.

Checked in, paid my $250 copay for imaging, and sat down to wait. A young man sat nearby, a strained worried look on his face. He did not invite conversation and I followed my usual siloing by pulling out Edith Wharton’s The House of Mirth, my readers, finding my place, and continuing to follow Lily Bart’s journey through the Gilded Age with nothing but beauty to sustain her.

“Buckman.”

“Sort of,” I said under my breath. Jaggedness from the drive and the scan leaking out. Laurie guided me through the halls of this older facility, out a door to the outside, and up metal stairs to the mobile PET Scan unit. The same one I had my initial scan in so many years ago when it sat in faraway Aurora.

Laurie covered my legs with a warm blanket as she readied me for the injection of the isotope attached PSMA. First, a butterfly needle for an IV.  A push of saline. Opening a lead cabinet with the same radiation hazard emblem on it I had on my red t-shirt from Los Alamos. A syringe with no more than half a teaspoon of a yellow liquid. In through the IV. Another push of saline.

As the radioactive yellow liquid moved into my bloodstream, it takes about fifty minutes for it to find and link up with the prostate cancer cells metastasized in various parts of my body, I tilted the chair back, closed my eyes, said my mantra-Stream flowing, White Pine rooting-and took a rest somewhere between sleeping and dreaming.

Laurie came back to see if I wanted to use the men’s room before the scan. Always a good idea. Back inside. When we returned, Laurie positioned me on the metal sled that glides in and out of the scanner. Again I closed my eyes, still a bit drowsy from my nap. Twenty minutes later, scan finished, I got back in Ruby and drove home.

 

Judaism, Politics, US History, World History

This Damned War

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Mabon and the Harvest Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Shadow. Cool nights. Tomatoes. Beets. Carrots. CBE men’s group. Irv. Jim. Joe. Jamie. Lawyer. Jamie’s sabbatical. Football. Soccer. Basketball. Baseball. F1. Boiler. Mini-splits. Dog food. Dog treats. New York Times. Minneapolis Star-Tribune. Talmud. Torah. Alan. Cheri. Francesca. Tom.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Conversation

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Yesod. Foundation. Groundedness. Tenth sefirot. The link between this world and the world of sacred becoming.

Tarot: Paused

One brief shining: Her curled up softness on the bed, sleeping like a young child, breathing slowly, I reach over and touch her lightly, not enough to wake her, but enough to say I love you to her dream world. My Shadow.

 

Israel: Talk about complicated. I mean, geez. This beacon of hope for a post-holocaust diaspora. The Nakba. A thriving techno state filled with agriculture, the ancient sites of Christianity and Islam as well as their mother, Judaism. A military powerhouse, who doesn’t know about the IDF: the Israeli Defense Force. A land of Jews surrounded by Arabs who would like to push them out: from the river to the sea.

Beloved of American Jewry. A strong, very strong lobby in D.C. A place where aliyah makes real the promise of escape to a safe space. A wonder considering years of pogroms, inquisitions, ghettoes, anti-Semitism.

Then, bam! October 7th. Hamas. Murderous. Rapist. Hostages. Embarrassing for this mighty mite with Mossad, IDF stationed nearby. The world onside. Terrorists. Shooting up a music festival. Go after them! You have the right to strike back.

Then. Bombs. Bombs. Bombs. Homes, hospitals, places of business. Trying to kill Hamas, a well-tunneled enemy, hiding in Mother Earth and, shamefully, within the wretched of the Earth, the Palestinian citizens of Gaza.

OK. Surely that’s enough. How many thousands dead? Non-combatants. Civilians. Mothers and children. You’ve made your point. But Israel didn’t, hasn’t stopped. Kill Hamas. Total destruction of an enemy. The war aim. When the war itself ensures more and more recruits for the enemy. Which will never die because it’s an idea, a no to the dreams of 1949. A no to Jewish safety. A no to the perceived oppressor. One man’s revolutionary is another man’s terrorist.

How will it end? IDK. Maybe the Burger King will pull off a win. I hope so. Yes, even though… Hell, give him the damned prize. If only he can stop the slaughter and start the inner journey of a post-war Israel. A journey that must reckon with blood lust, with the responsibility of great power, with the irony of becoming the Cossack, the Nazi. Killing without remorse. Most difficult. With the reality that Netanyahu extended the war, the death and destruction, to avoid criminal prosecution. And nobody stopped him.

Yet. I still want to visit Israel. Which the war prevented. To see the Wailing Wall. The old city. The Arab quarter. Restaurants catering to meat and not dairy or dairy not meat. To have an Israeli breakfast. See Masada. The Sea of Galilee. Bethlehem. Gethsemane. The kibbutz. Megiddo.

Oh Israel. So much sorrow.

 

Dogs, Friends, Politics, World History

He shoots!

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: Shadow. Dr. Josy. Audrey. Ginny and Janice. Bread Lounge. Fave’s restaurant. Good friends. Laughing. The leash and the collar. Putting a leash on Shadow, the free spirit. Tomatoes. Kale. Spinach. Beets. Soil in the mail. Mark. Al Kharj. Mary. Melbourne. My son and Seoah. Back in Osan.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Annie and Shadow

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Histapkot. Contentment.

“Who seeks more than he needs, hinders himself from enjoying what he has. Seek what you have and give up what you need not. For in giving up what you don’t need, you’ll learn what you really need.” Rabbi Solomon ibn Gabirol

Tarot: Seven of Stones, healing.

One brief shining: A chittering sound, a Squirrel maybe, or some Insect rubbing its wings together, a Grasshopper could be, comes in through the open window along with a cool morning Breeze, occupying a bit of my mind as I write, bringing the outside inside while I try to wrench the inside outside.

 

Dog journal: Dr. Josy came carrying a long flat object in a cloth covering. A portable scale. Her daughter Audrey carried a large rectangular carryall full of syringes, medicines, treats, other necessaries for a traveling veterinarian.

Shadow weighs 35 pounds. Dr. Josy had to hold Shadow and then weigh herself with Shadow and without. Shadow would not stand on the scale. Of course.

She gave Shadow a vaccine for leptospirosis. Lepto comes for contact with animal urine and is zoonotic, meaning it can transmit to humans often resulting in kidney failure. She also drew blood for a heartworm test, checked Shadow’s heart and lungs, her various joints, her teeth, and whether her i.d. chip was functional. It is.

While Audrey held Shadow on her lap, Dr. Josy clipped her nails. Shadow remained quiet and comfortable the whole time, snuggling into Audrey’s lap.

Dr. Josy thinks, and I somewhat reluctantly agree, that I should get a second dog, a companion for Shadow. Someone to play with. Since Kate and I always bought litter mates when we could, I understand. But do I want to be a two dog household again? Thinking about it.

Dr. Josy thought Shadow was perfect. Healthy, sweet, comfortable to work with. Well, I do, too.

 

Friends: Ginny and Janice came over later in the day bringing Annie and Luna to play with Shadow. Along with takeout from the Bread Lounge. While we ate, Shadow and Annie ran each other around the yard. Sometimes they would all run inside, up the stairs, to see what we were doing.

Ginny and Janice call Luna, their little girl who can’t weigh more than five pounds, the fun police. When Shadow and Annie got too boisterous, Luna would bark at them to stop.

 

Just a moment: He dribbles, he shoots! Putin scores! I can imagine the flattery, the bribery, the sophistry that Vlad brought to the table. All catered to our insecure tyrant. This one was over before it began. Pity the poor, benighted Ukrainians. No need for Zelensky. The big boys are taking care of it.

Ancient Brothers, Family, Fourth Phase, Friends, Humanities, Poetry, Politics, Seed Keepers, US History, World History

Ways Forward

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Waning gibbous Moon. Morning Darkness. Shadow. Father of Shadows. Great Sol. Artemis and her children. Heirloom Vegetables. Raised beds. Co-creation. Gardening. Kate, always Kate. Bee keeping. The Atmosphere. The Troposphere. Space. The International Space Station. The Hubble. The Web. Exoplanets. Distant Suns. Galaxies. Black Holes.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shadows

Year Kavannah: Wu wei

Week Kavannah:  Hakarat Hatov. Recognizing the Good

Tarot: The Seer, #2

One brief shining: The boiler turns itself on, feeding hot Water into the hot Water tank while open windows let cool Air flow in and over my chair, my feet the chair chosen by Kate supporting me while I write.

 

Hakarat Hatov: Recognizing the good. Luke’s joy at getting an associate Professorship in Chemistry. His care for Leo. Rabbi Jamie’s creative teaching. Tom’s quiet confidence. Ode’s sketchbooks. Bill’s everyday kindnesses. Paul’s serious joy.

As Paul said on Sunday, if we seek Hakarat Hatov, goodness abounds in everyday life, no matter the bitter and ugly transformation of our government. Too easy to focus on the doom, let ourselves fall into despair. Don’t ignore it, no, but also recognize the ordinary good all around.

 

Just a moment: A way forward. Storm Before the Calm by George Friedman. Amy, my audiologist, echoing a similar idea. She knows folks she said, progressives, who want to return to the Obama era. No, she says, MAGA has revealed too many cracks (her word. I might go with chasms, abysses.) in the U.S. There’s no going back Amy went on. What we have to do is survive these years, then build something new, something that takes into account the MAGA reveals.

I agree with her and with Friedman. The excesses of the Gilded Age, which Trump apparently has in mind, led to the progressive era of Teddy Roosevelt, the trust buster.

Or, we could also call this late stage capitalism wherein the oligarchs gather so much money unto themselves that the rest of us have too little to power the consumer economy.

Greed cometh before a fall. As Gordon Gecko showed us.

 

Learning: Higher education and in particular the Humanities have suffered hit after hit as the conservative mortar crews have begun to walk in their ordnance, finding the bunkers and trenches of Renaissance and Enlightenment thought with their “anti-semitic” coded explosives.

I no longer fear the elimination of Humanities courses. Why? Because Thucydides and Beowulf and O’Neil and Whitehead and Mozart and Caravaggio do not live in the academy. They live in those who seek to understand their own humanity, the ways forward when faced with a culture shattered by avarice and base fears.

We and mine will still read the Iliad to understand how one man’s rage can cost the lives of thousands, even millions with today’s WMDs. We will also return to multiple perspectives as modeled by Impressionist, Expressionist, Abstract, and Realist painters and sculptors. We will embrace a world characterized by the metaphysics of becoming, of a One always in process, over the split apart world of Cartesian metaphysics.

The Humanities will not, cannot disappear because they are us at our best, self critical. learning from the vast deposit of human lives already lived.

 

Asia, Dogs, Family, Fourth Phase, Judaism, Korea, Memories, Mussar, Travel, World History

New Ideas

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: Bagel table. Sue Bradshaw. My son with me. The Jangs in San Francisco. Breckenridge. The oxygen concentrator. Shadow, barking in the early morning. Protecting Artemis from Mule Deer? The darkness. Shadow still barking. Ah. Stopped. Tactical flashlight. Artemis heater. Tomatoes fruiting. Evergreen Lake. Hot weather.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Walking in the Dark

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Hakarat Hatov.

Active Recognition: Hakarat hatov is not passive. It requires conscious effort to identify and acknowledge the good, rather than taking it for granted. Beyond Gratitude: While related to gratitude, hakarat hatov extends to recognizing the good in situations and people, even when they haven’t directly benefited you. Jewish Perspective: In Judaism, hakarat hatov is considered a fundamental value, encouraging a positive outlook and a sense of appreciation for the world and its inhabitants. Gemini

Tarot: The Green Woman, #3*

One brief shining: Out into the back yard tactical flashlight in hand, where is she and what has she seen to cause such a commotion, a lot of barking, barking, barking; the cool Mountain morning wraps around me as I see light reflected in two eyes looking at me, Shadow wondering what is he doing out here.

 

Parting words: When I left the Happy Camper a couple of weeks ago, the Gen Z latter day hippy clerk smiled and said, “Be high out there.” Altitude attitude?

Yesterday when I left Jackie’s after getting my ears lifted, Rhonda, her colleague, gave me a mischievous smile and said, “Don’t behave yourself!”

 

The Jang’s last day in Colorado: My son and Seoah packed up, loaded the huge Dodge Van they’ve used for transporting each other on this Rocky Mountain holiday, and headed for a morning in Breckenridge, my son’s post college home for three years.

The part of their stay which focused on things I’ve done many times, I stayed at home. Partly to preserve my energy. My stamina is not up to days away from home. Mostly I just didn’t want to go.

The evening meals I enjoyed immensely. We connected on levels beyond the need for language. Smiles. Hugs. Being together as family. Some conversation and some of it deep: the nature of government or the origin of Homo sapiens. Some of it silly. They liked Macgiver, Battlestar Galactica, American TV. I like K-dramas. Soft culture.

We left each other on the asphalt of my driveway. Hugs all round except for Umma, who shook my hand. Her way.

An important visit. Memories that build relationships. Relationships that can last over time and distance. My question now is how to nurture, how to reinforce them.

A few ideas. I pay Ruth’s airfare to Korea next summer if she gets an internship there. Maybe I go with her. Gabe’s graduation money could send him to Korea, too.

Perhaps we’ll all meet in Hawai’i. Vacation together in a spot between the Mountains and the Peninsula.

Emails and zoom. Gifts. I’m open to other ideas. Mary? Mark?

 

Just a moment: A new form of family, united across oceans and languages and nations, perhaps that’s part of the answer to Trumpism. An end around. Loosen the bond with any one home country, spend the released energy on building connection continent to continent.

 

*”…the Green Woman mediates the sacred sovereignty of the Earth’s soul and can show the path to understanding and communion with nature. But with this blessing comes responsibility. Remember that this glorious, magnanimous and generous spirit can live through you, radiated by the sacred breath of life and given to others who need guidance and healing.” Parting the Mists

 

Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Greenhouse, Health, Politics, US History, World History

Dance to the Music

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Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Wednesday gratefuls: Mice. Rat Zappers. Shadow, the sleepy head. Monsoon Rain. The Greenhouse. Nathan. Chioggia. Lolla Rosso. Swiss and Rainbow Chard. Less back and leg pain. Motion is lotion. Halle. Plants. Oxygen. Carbon Dioxide. Mycelium. Fungi. Insects. Birds.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shadow

Week Kavannah:  Roeh et hanalod. Foresight. Knowing what will be needed in the future.

One brief shining: The greenhouse nears completion, Shadow slept alongside me, back and leg pain has lessened, an orthopedist will look at my torn labrum tomorrow, and my last PSA remained stable: this is about as good as news gets at 78.

 

Yep, sorry to show a ray of Great Sol shine from the tippy-top of Shadow Mountain, but it feels warranted. Shadow and I have moved further in our relationship. Nathan will finish the greenhouse either today or tomorrow. Turnkey. Filled with soil. Watering system installed. Heater for the Winter, too. Getting up every hour has led to less pain, more agency around the house. I see an orthopedist tomorrow to decide what to do with my hip. And my PSA remains stable. This could be on old guy Country Western song run backwards.

Not winner, winner chicken dinner. Not at all. But geez. So much better than a month ago, or six months ago. Gotta dance to the music when you can.

Yes, my mobility still sucks and the pain has lessened, not gone. Yes, the greenhouse is almost a month late into the growing season. I have no idea what the orthopod will say.

My PSA might rise at the next blood draw. But not today, not in this June 25th, 2025 life of mine.

Today I plan to celebrate a life lived as fully as I can muster. Dig into reading the next chapter of The Violent Take It By Force, work on my new painting, read some more Harry Dresden, pick up a quesadilla at Taco Yazi after my physical therapy. Play with Shadow. Watch some TV.

It was a hard Winter, and cold. I didn’t see it until the fog began to lift a couple of weeks ago.

I watched too much TV. Experienced a lot of pain too often. Went through the motions of a life.  Discouraged by Shadow’s reluctance to warm up to me. Hampered by chronic pain. Worried about cancer’s role in my back pain.

I hunkered down, pulled my head in. Not a bad thing to do when confronted with difficulty, no, not at all. Self-protection is important. But I got stuck there. Glad my stubborn tendency to keep moving, legs churning, head down carried me past that time. Of course, yes, my friends. My family. CBE. Amy, then Natalie. Shadow. I had help. I did. And I accepted it. (Pats self on back.)

 

Just a moment: Trump’s having a moment. Did he just bring peace to the Middle East? A headline in the Washington Post. NATO agrees to raise spending. The Senate has his big beautiful bill. Don’t get distracted. He’s still a wannabe monarch seeking a golden throne, and the whole world as fawning sycophants.

 

Asia, Family, Greenhouse, Literature, Politics, US History, World History

Demons and Devils oh my

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Summer and the Greenhouse Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Morning darkness. Shadow. My sweet girl. Kate, always. Aurora preceding Great Sol’s full reveal. Molas. The Cuna Indians, forced to move on land due to Sea level rise. Panama. Colombia. The Darien Wilderness. The Panama Canal. Ecuador. Peru. Chile. The Fjords. Ushuaia. Cape Horn. The Falklands. Argentina. Uruguay. Brazil. Kate’s retirement cruise.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: South America

Week Kavannah:  Roeh et hanalod. Foresight. Knowing what will be needed in the future.

One brief shining: Nathan stood on his ladder, rubber mallet in hand while he installed the clear roofing for the greenhouse, pounding away, engaged in the act of creation, a maker in his element with electric saws, drills, hand saws, squares, and measuring tapes, lumber.

 

Iran: Anthony Blinken, “Trump’s Iran strike was a mistake. I hope it succeeds.” NYT, 6/24/2025. I’m with Blinken on this one.

Brother Mark works in Al Kharj, Saudi Arabia. Outside Al Kharj is the joint U.S./Saudi Prince Sultan airbase, home of the US 378th Air Expeditionary Wing. The only base in Saudi Arabia with a U.S. military presence. Qatar lies about 400 miles to the northwest.

Prince Sultan AFB received Patriot missile batteries from Osan AFB where Joseph now lives. I doubt Iran would be foolish enough to strike in Saudi Arabia, its chief Muslim rival in the region and only a missile’s throw over the Persian Gulf.

Still. To have a civilian family member that close to the troubles. Troubling.

This poor benighted place, the Middle East. Religious and ethnic hatreds, hundreds and thousands of years old. Everybody packed in tight. Doesn’t say much for religion as an agent of peace and compassion.

May this ceasefire hold. May negotiations commence and have good results. May the Gaza horror end as well as the violence on the West Bank. And, may Netanyahu go to jail. Where he has long belonged.

 

Greenhouse: Nathan finished the roof yesterday so he could at least paint and lacquer inside if it rains.

Thunderstorms likely this afternoon and tomorrow afternoon. The monsoons. May they come and may they persist even though it slows Nathan. Wildfire protection trumps everything.

I finally put away the electric blanket and the temperatures dropped. Sigh. Yet. Rains.

 

Reading: I go in spurts. With authors. Genres. Ideas. Sometimes two or three at a time. Right now I’m immersed in the Dresden Files by Jim Butcher. Harry Dresden is a wizard in Chicago. Saw it described as Harry Potter for Adults. Sort of.

Butcher’s a better writer than Rowlings. Found out on Sunday that he lives in Evergreen.

I’m continuing my as deep as I can dive into the weird Christian world of the New American Reformation. An odd thing. The world of Harry Dresden and the NAR are not so far apart.

The NAR believes in demons and devils, in spiritual warfare. They also believe in political warfare and have become a solid foundation for Trump’s base.

Matthew Taylor, author of The Violent Take It By Force, which I’m reading, says we need to think of American Christianity in four quadrants* rather than the out of date Protestant, Catholic, Evangelical.

He emphasizes the Independent Charismatic Quadrant though it’s the smallest of the four. The New American Reformation is the key player here. Paula White, a prominent and highly successful NAR preacher, has been teflon Don’s religious adviser for twenty years.

The NAR has a loose organizational structure which allows them a great deal of flexibility when it comes to political action. Taylor says it was influential members of the NAR who stood on the fringes of January 6th and prayed them on.

More on this as it gets clearer to me.

1. Denominational / Institutional Evangelicals

  • Rooted in traditional, denomination-based churches (e.g., SBC, Assemblies of God).

  • Emphasize preaching, missions, conversion.

  • Historically influential in conservative politics—but less so now compared to charismatic groups.

2. Independent Network Charismatics

  • Non‑denominational, centered around powerful apostles and prophets.

  • Operate in networks rather than denominational hierarchies.

  • Emphasize supernatural gifts, spiritual warfare, cultural transformation.

  • Includes movements like the New Apostolic Reformation (NAR) books.google.com+4en.wikipedia.org+4amazon.com+4.

3. Progressive / Social Justice Evangelicals

  • Focus on issues like poverty, racial justice, climate, immigration.

  • May be evangelical theologically, but lean politically left.

  • Often positioned as a counter‑voice to Christian nationalism.

4. Mainline / Liberal Protestants

  • Include historic denominations (e.g., UCC, ELCA, Episcopalians).

  • Theologically liberal, embracing biblical criticism, LGBTQ inclusion.

  • Maintain a strong social‑justice ethos with little overlap with evangelical or charismatic movements.

 

 

 

 

 

Ancient Brothers, Asia, Commentary on the news, Dogs, Friends, Health, Politics, US History, World History

How Will It End?

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Summer and the Greenhouse Moon

Monday gratefuls: Ginny and Janice. Annie and Luna. Spice Fusion Ranch. Swerve toward cooler after Saturday heat. Red Tie Guy and the MOP. One hour movement breaks. Back and leg pain. Ortho consult. Harvard Medical on back pain. The Bird of dawn. Make firm a person’s steps. Shadow and Annie playtime. Our rocky Soil. Wildflowers. The Greenhouse. Finished on Tuesday? Planting on Wednesday! Horticulture. Wild Neighbors.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Close friends

Week Kavannah:  Roeh et hanalod. Foresight. Knowing what will be needed in the future.

One brief shining: Annie and Luna came out of the car with Ginny on leashes, Janice carrying the food from Spice Fusion Ranch in a brown paper sack, Shadow waited in the backyard since visitors put her in OMG, I’m so glad to see you, jumpy mode while I opened the door glad to greet Mountain friends who’d come to play.

 

Dog journal: Annie, sleek and brown and all puppy, came from the same Granby shelter as Shadow. Ginny and Janice adopted her a month or so before I adopted Shadow. She’s taller and a bit longer than Shadow, but roughly the same age.

It took a while for them to establish their power dynamics, then they played and ran, ran and played while Ginny, Janice, and I ate food from the new Indian place, Spice Fusion Ranch.

Ginny and Janice had stories from Champagne-Urbana where they formerly lived and where they still own an Air B’n’B. Janice created the first Costume degree program in the U.S. there while Ginny directed a social issues theater company.

Luna, their second Dog, is tiny. I’d be surprised if she weighed 5 pounds. Sweet and in the past a bit jumpy, she seemed much calmer, more herself yesterday.

Mountain friends. Ginny and Janice live in Kittredge, a very small town east of Evergreen about five miles.

 

Ancient Brothers: Just to say. We went around telling each other, one at a time, positive characteristics we saw in each other. A little love never hurts, eh?

 

Back and leg pain: With the movement breaks and physical therapy I’ve achieved a significant lessening of my pain. Also, with the evidence of the labrum tear in my right hip I no longer conflate its pain with the rest. Different etiologies.

I’m working back to regular exercise with my physical therapy exercises as a starting place. Feels good. P.T. plus tramadol finds my daily pain load enough lightened to help with my mood. A very good thing.

Cousin Diane found a Harvard Medical e-book on back pain and its treatment. I’m reading it now since I have decisions to make about what happens next.

 

Just a moment: Now, as the saying goes, we wait. What will a weakened Iran do in response to the MOP drop? Close the Straits of Hormuz? Attack U.S. military bases in the region? Send out assassins? Perhaps all three.

We’ve staggered from conflict in Ukraine to conflict in Gaza to conflict on the West Bank to conflict in Lebanon all the while bombing the Houthis and now to outright war against Iran. Where, when, how can it all end?