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  • Dance to the Music

    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.

     


  • Demons and Devils oh my

    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.

     

     

     

     

     


  • How Will It End?

    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?

     


  • He could not resist

    Summer and the Greenhouse Moon

    Sunday gratefuls: Ruth. Gabe. Shabbat. The Morning Service. The Bird of Dawn. Shadow, my sweet girl. Kate, always, Kate. Getting up every hour for movement. We’re made to move and to rest. Halle. Motion is lotion. Rabbi Jamie. Luke. Great Sol. The Monsoons. Dead Mice. Derek. Chorkies. (Chihuahua and Yorkie mix) British Columbia. Writing. The Ancient Brothers.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Mountains

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

    One brief shining: Talking over the fence with Derek as neighbors do his new Chorkie running around with his older Sheltie, Shadow watching with interest, a too hot Mountain day headed for  a cooler evening and night, a light wind blowing through the Lodgepoles, setting the Aspen leaves aquiver.

     

    Hot. Not humid though. 90’s! Unusual for the Mountains. Did. Not. Like. It. Ran the mini-splits for air conditioning for a while. Shadow stayed in the shade while outside. A Shadow in the shade.

    Found Ruth’s wallet here yesterday afternoon. Texted her. She went rafting on the Arkansas River through Royal Gorge. Canon City. Where Tom and I rode the train a couple of years ago. When I reached her, we agreed to meet at the Fort Restaurant, down the hill outside of Morrison so she could retrieve her things.

    Did that. Drove down there around 7 pm with Great Sol still blazing above the Front Range Foothills, occasionally making Sun blindness a thing even with Raybans. Since I rarely drive down the hill at that time of day, I saw the Mountains in a new perspective, shade falling from the West. The green of a wet Spring making them look fresh, vital in the twilight.

    When driving in the Mountains at twilight or dawn, we all have to pay special attention. Critters of all sorts move around then, sometimes choosing to cross the road in front of you. Requires care.

     

    Just a moment: I was off by a day. He could not resist. It was too big a moment in the spotlight, potentially in the history books. MOPing up after Israel, eh?

    Admit to conflicted feelings. Just before a Saudi Arabian peace deal seemed likely, Hamas invaded Israel. Just before negotiations with Iran were to have begun, Israel stole that idea and invaded Iran.

    As a child of the Cold War era, nuclear weapons scare the bejesus out of me. No need to wait for climate change. We can eliminate humanity all by ourselves. Right now.

    So. Bombing Iran’s nuclear enrichment facilities? I get it. As I wrote a day or two ago, one atomic bomb could level Jerusalem. If I was a radical Islamist with my back against the wall and I had one available to me? I’d probably use it.

    Can you say chain reaction? Genie out of the bottle? Thank you 1001 Nights. The world would never be the same. India v. Pakistan. Israel v. the Arab world. US v Russia, v China. Radioactive dominoes falling, falling, falling. Not right away. No. But each time a crisis arose with nuclear armed powers contending theater nuclear weapons would have a precedent.

    Having said that. No. It will not stop Iran from building nuclear weapons. Delayed, yes. Stop? No. Regime change? Maybe. To a better regime for Middle East peace? Doubtful.

    Trump the warrior. Oh, god no.


  • IMHO

    Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

    Wednesday gratefuls: Tom. Paul. Shadow, early riser. Halle, the teacher. Back pain and leg pain better. The Jangs. Coming to America. Morning service. Morning darkness. Great Sol waiting to be revealed yet again. Heat returning. Along with Wildfire risk. Ginny and Janice, Annie and Luna.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The 25 brightest Stars of the night Sky.

    Week Kavannah: Bitachon. Confidence.  “A feeling of self-assurance arising from one’s appreciation of one’s abilities or qualities.”

    One brief shining: Stopped again at Taco Yazi’s, the new place cohabiting with the Wicked Whisk Bakery, this time for a tortas, or the beautiful mess, a sandwich with lots of vegetables and meat and a drippy sauce, a meal before my next delivery from Cookunity.

     

    Dog journal: Colorado has a distinctive culture around Dogs. Many restaurants have Dog friendly dining spots, will even bring out bowls of water, maybe a treat.

    If a Dog escapes their yard up here in the Mountains, folks take them in if found, post notice on Next Door, or take them to a vet to read the chip. If the Dog won’t come, we post photos.

    When a Dog is in crisis, like Takota, it’s not unusual for their human companions to talk about it, show their feelings. Abraham Lincoln, Rich Levine’s long time companion, went everywhere with him, even in his last days of mobility.

    It did not feel unusual at all for Nathan to take two days off from building the greenhouse. His old Dog and his Dad were both hurting. Needed him. More than I did. Fit right in with Colorado culture.

    Shadow woke up today at 4:15 am. Oh, joy. I mean, I’m an early riser by nature, but… Gives me plenty of time for the Shema, the Morning Service, checking my e-mails, writing Ancientrails. And, since it’s Wednesday, putting out the trash.

    I don’t mind. I now go to bed around 7:30 pm so I can get all my sleep.

     

    Just a moment: IMHO. Trump will not be able to resist dropping a big, beautiful bomb or two. Only the U.S. (see, only) has the MOP, or Massive Ordnance Penetrator, and a plane, the B2, that can deliver it.

    Trump’s narcissism, with which he also conflates white supremacy and the U.S. government, will not allow him to deny a moment when he, read the United States, holds the only weapon capable of exploding Iran’s Fordow bunker where its main nuclear enrichment facility resides deep underground. The only weapon. Only the U.S. Only Trump can fix it. Today or tomorrow I’d guess.

     

    Back and leg pain: Turns out getting up every hour, doing something for five minutes or so, even longer, has helped the pain a lot.

    My mobility remains pretty limited and I still can’t stand long enough to cook, but I have made strength gains. Yesterday was evaluation day and Halle put me through the same exam she gave when we first started working together.

    I took a full second off my five squats time, for example. Slowly, slowly. Digging myself out of a hole partially of my own making.


  • A Sad Man

    Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

    Tuesday gratefuls: Shadow, the sweet girl. Kate, always Kate. Morning darkness. Great Sol and Aurora. Toad Flax. Buttercups. Daisies. Iris. Lilacs. Mountain Wildflowers. A blue Colorado Sky. My Ancient Brothers. Cookunity. Aspen Perks. Marilyn and Irv. Paul today. Afib. Prostate Cancer. Kabbalah. Tarot. Astrology. Herme. Mary. Jang Deep.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Love for a Dog

    Week Kavannah: Bitachon. Confidence.  “A feeling of self-assurance arising from one’s appreciation of one’s abilities or qualities.”

    One brief shining: On the hour I get up and move around for at least five minutes, often accomplishing some task like cutting boxes for the trash or emptying the dishwasher or walking with Shadow in the back, admiring the greenhouse, and to my chagrin finding this the best medicine so far for my aching back and hips. That Halle.

     

    Dog journal: Alarm bark. Constant. Shadow feet forward, warning as her nemesis, the young Mule Deer Doe stood on the other side of the fence, looking quizzically at her. Suddenly, from the garage stairs, a large fluffy black Cat flew from the bottom step in two leaps to the fence and out.

    When Shadow saw the Cat, little cartoon balloons appeared over her head. Cat! Cat! Cat! Her barking intensified. OMG! Cat! Cat! Cat! Both the Cat and the Doe decided it was time to be elsewhere. Good Dog. Good Dog. We’re all safe now.

    Shadow has not yet learned to protect the house from FedEx, UPS, and Mark, the mailman, but I’m sure she will. Territory is territory. After all.

    Nathan came to the house yesterday with sad news. His Jack Russel terrier, Takota, whom he had given to his Dad when his mother died, had come to the end of his journey. He came to tell me in person that he had to drive down the hill and have Takota euthanized.

    Nathan has a good strong heart. His sadness was deep and I knew it in my soul. He’s very apologetic about the delays already, yet knew this took priority. Yes, it did.

    He told, too, the story of one his other dogs, a German Shepherd he rescued from a miserable home at the age of 7. In 1990’s Conifer he and his buddies would grab a duffle bag and go camping in the Mountains. The Shepherd always came along.

    Then, she got cancer. Nathan would have his mom drive him and his buddies two miles from home leaving the Dog behind. In spite of her cancer the Shepherd would follow the scent of the car, find where they left the road, and come happily into their camp. She was special, he said. Yes, she was.

     

    Just a moment: If you want a good source of geopolitical information, try the Caspian Report on Youtube. My son recommended it to me quite a while ago. I don’t watch it often, but I found this explainer on the Israel-Iran conflict useful in understanding what’s at stake.

     

     

     

     

     

    shadow cat mule deer. nathan and takota.


  • Seed Keepers

    Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

    Monday gratefuls: Shadow, outside again. Hokas. Keenes. Merrills. LLBean. Vermont Flannel. Ancient Brothers on fatherhood. My mola shirt. T-shirts. Great Sol. Illumination. Enlightenment. Philosophy. Whitehead. James. Nietzsche. Camus. Plato. Bergman. Wim Wenders. Zorba.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: 1 hour movement breaks

    Week Kavannah: Bitachon. Confidence.  “A feeling of self-assurance arising from one’s appreciation of one’s abilities or qualities.”

    One brief shining: Front pages cry out, scream from the blood, the arrogant cruelty, the missiles and bombers, the intentional dismantlement of our Federal government, while ICE makes everything hotter, more volatile and the people say, not Amen, but enough!

     

    Seed-Keepers: Life in America Today. A divided nation from sea to shining sea. “No Kings” protests against red tie guy’s cruelty, avarice, lust for power. While a military parade in honor of the Armies 250th birthday saw a lie with each salute from the Chaos Master in Chief. On Flag Day. On his birthday.

    So many of us. So many. As our nation descends from world hegemon to regional power, from democracy to autocracy, from a center of scientific thought and experiment to a dogma driven professional culture. From a land of liberty to a land of ICE raids and U.S. military on U.S. streets. From twenty-first century governance to a robber baron oligarchy.

    What shall we do? Seed-keeping. Yes. de minimis. Protest? Yes. Live rich, full lives instead of ones cramped by hatred, loathing, bitterness. Yes.

    How? Gather a few friends, family members, neighbors. Discuss what makes America a nation we believe in. Research together those who have taken so much of it from us. Plan for the 2026 elections. Write about your work in letters to the editor, blogs, columns in community newspapers. Keep talking, meeting, taking energy from resistance. You are not alone.

    Decide on a seed as the symbol of your work. I’m choosing the beet seed, a prickly ball of potential that grows into a strong, versatile plant. Its leaves and its roots both edible. Great by itself and wonderful when mixed with the produce from other seeds. What seed will you choose?

     

    Dog journal: Shadow would not come in last night, even though she and I have entered a space of mutuality. The incident with the Mule Deer Doe awakened, I think, protective and herding instincts, matters intrinsic to who she is.

    Our affection for each other grows. She leans against me, stays by my side. I reach down and stroke her flanks. Once I get Seedlings to care for a part of me will be whole again.

     

    Just a moment: Israel and Iran. War. Missiles. Drones. Oil fields aflame. Apartment complexes twisted and broken. Israeli’s in shelters. Iranians wondering what to do.

    Ukraine still holding back the Bear. A war of resistance to oppression. Not too far from Iran as the missile flies.

    I’m reading a book, the Strategy of Denial, by Eldridge Colby. He’s currently under secretary of Defense for policy. In it he lays out his argument for a strong pivot to Asia. In a world of regional powers like the U.S., China, Europe he believes our core national interest lies in denying China any chance of becoming a regional hegemon in Asia.

    He would pull us out of Ukraine. Not sure where stands on Israel.


  • Embarrassed to Admit

    Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

    Shabbat gratefuls: CBE. Men’s group. Carol. Paul. The Greenhouse. Door and windows framed in. Seed order from Seed Saver’s Exchange has arrived. Ordered garden tools. Shabbat. Shadow, the tender. Israel. Iran. Lebanon. Palestinians. Saudi Arabia. Mark in Al Kharj. Jordan. Syria. Egypt. Iraq. Kuwait. The Emirates. War. Peace. Morning darkness. Waning gibbous Greenhouse Moon.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Cool Mountain Breeze

    Week Kavannah: Bitachon. Confidence.  “A feeling of self-assurance arising from one’s appreciation of one’s abilities or qualities.”

    One brief shining: In a world scarred by war and diminished by autocrats daily life goes on, trips to the grocery store, conversations with friends, feeding the dog, until of course it does not. Or, cannot.

     

    My Seeds arrived. Heirloom varieties all. A nod to the Seed Saver’s among us, purchased from the Seed Saver’s Exchange near Decorah, Iowa. The Greenhouse will finish up next week. With the addition of soil to the three raised beds I will get started planting.

    With Shadow by my side I’ll return to the Andover/Kate years of Dogs and Gardens. At least in part. No Bees this time. No Orchard. No Kate. Still. Co-creation. Tending the soil. Weeding, nurturing seedlings. Harvesting. Eating. The true transubstantiation.

    Once again direct engagement with the Great Wheel’s blessings of Rain and Sun, Night and Day, growing season and fallow time.

    When Nathan finishes, I’m going to have Rabbi Jamie and maybe some friends over to hang a mezuzah on its door, bless it. Artemis.

     

    Living with pain: Embarrassed to admit it. Halle suggested setting my alarm for an hour. Then, get up and spend five minutes moving around. Embarrassed for three reasons: 1. Halle can’t be more than twenty-five. 2. I’ve read, know about this life hack. 3. It reveals how much I sit these days.

    Even so. When the student is ready, the teacher arrives. Halle, in spite of her youth, is my teacher. I’ve been doing this hack for the last two days and it really helps. Keeps the hips and legs lubricated plus I get something done.

    Just now I went outside and played the stop, drop, turn and move on game with Shadow. Called her a few times. Five minutes well spent.

    Next five minutes I’ll make breakfast. Will take longer than five minutes but that’s fine. Perhaps after breakfast, I’ll read for an hour, then at the five minute break head up to the loft to continue my painting that I started a week ago.

    All easy enough. Yet habit and mood have kept me in my chair for too long for too long.

     

    Just a moment: We’ve passed out of the world hegemon era to one of regional conflicts. Russia trying to assert itself in the old Soviet Bloc. Israel attacking all of its Shia enemies. China advancing its navy into the South China Sea, claiming once and always Taiwan. The renaming of the Gulf of Mexico.

    A world of regional powers rather than a global one (or, two) is unstable. Many flashpoints. Iran. Ukraine. Island chains near Japan, the Philippines, Taiwan.

     


  • It’s Personal

    Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

    Monday gratefuls: Buphati. MRI results. The Ancient Brothers. Shadow. Water. Food. Natalie. Tom. The Happy Camper. Driving, painful. Ruth in Alaska. Mary in Seoul. Guru in K.L. Me on Shadow Mountain. Great Sol. The bird of morning. BJ. Pammy. Gabe. Family, flung far.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Books

    Week Kavannah: Wholeness and Peacefulness. Shleimut. Integrating pain into my daily life.

    One brief shining: The greenhouse has more than plants and memories; it will be therapy and prayer, too, an everyday exercise in tactile spirituality, joining with the evolved life of plants in an act of co-creating abundance: Lettuce in a bowl with dark red Brandywine heirloom Tomatoes, rings of Red Onion, a diced orange Nantes Carrot, not yet, no, but soon.

     

    Judaism in trouble:

    Front page news from Boulder. A fiery assault on demonstrators bringing attention to hostages still held by Hamas. This apparently not Nazi nostalgia, but Palestinian weariness with the long, long war and its murderous execution.

    Not only Boulder, but the home of UC-Boulder, Ruth’s university.

    You may recall that my conversion was to have taken place in Jerusalem, October 31st if I recall correctly. That pleased me because it married my pagan observance of Samain with my immersion in an ancient mikveh in the holy city.

    You do recall, I’m sure, why it didn’t happen. On October 7th, Hamas attacked kibbutzim near the border with Gaza, killing and raping as they went. A horrific act of terror. Really, a brazen pull on the nose-ring of militant Israelis.

    For many dark reasons, Israel stepped into the trap Hamas had made. Netanyahu needed to avoid corruption charges. A never-to-be-realized war aim of eliminating Hamas. Frustration with continued anti-semitic activity by Iranian supported actors like Hamas, Hezbollah, and the Houthis. The out of proportion political influence of the Jewish ultra-right in Israel that wants genocide. The perilous location of Israel.

    The Israeli Defense Force (IDF) continues to pound Gaza, killing civilians, civilians, because Hamas hides among them. Many (most?) of us who love Israel as a needed safe place for Jews long ago stepped away from support of this “war.”

    The immorality of bombing starving women and children. Using up whatever goodwill Israel had accumulated. Being tone deaf to the world’s critique. Bad, sad days for all.

    No wonder the anger and frustration has spilled over into the U.S. No wonder, too, that this same anger and frustration has served as fuel for the alt-right with its white supremacist views, its Hitlerian hagiographies, and not only them, but American Muslims, college students who see an asymmetrical war, politicians who want any lever they can find to bring the East Coast elites to heel.

    In the same ugly way that testosterone feeds prostate cancer, the war over Gaza feeds hatred and bigotry all over the world. We will all be poorer when it ends.

    Boulder is an hour from Shadow Mountain. I’ve been there many times over the last year plus for breakfast or lunch with Ruth. She’s a Jewish student in a time when Jews, again, are persona non grata.

    This attack was not something I read about. It’s personal.

     


  • Ruth at the DMZ

    Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

    Memorial Day gratefuls: Again, Shadow leaping into my arms as I sat on the edge of the bed. Rain. A soaking Rain. Needed. Big R. Dog treats. Ativan at Safeway. A pickup order. Gas at Stinkers. Pushing myself. P.T. exercises. Back pain. My Ancient brothers: Paul, Tom, Bill, Ode. Thyroid meds. Lifealert.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rain

    Week Kavannah: Zerizut. for p.t. and resistance.

    One brief shining: Went to Big R for the first time in years, past the bronze Elk front porch bench, into the store, past the weapons and ammo, past the huge fans for animal stalls, past the 50 pound bags of Chicken feed, toward the aisles of Dog beds, Dog food, Dog treats, nursing my gimpy left leg as I walked, found the bag of treats Natalie recommended, treats of Cattle spleen, lungs, trachea, realizing in that moment, again, the awful cruelty of eating red meat.

     

    Had a crashing, booming, hailing afternoon while I slept with the window open, Rain spraying in, my electric blanket on against the 38 degree chill. Such a perfect feeling of comfort. Brought back memories of Memorial Days past when I would go out into the family car, turn on the radio, eat popcorn, and listen to the broadcast of the Indy 500.

    I can imagine death as slipping over the edge of living while wrapped in similar comfort, a moment then of peace. Of lost physicality. Of drifting away into the next adventure. I neither wish it soon nor do I fear it.

     

    Dog journal: Shadow jumped up onto my legs, into my arms. Again. Wriggling and happy. We hugged each other. The feeling sublime. I know that’s a slippery, maybe treacly, word, sublime, but when you combine love and eagerness what word would you use?

    We’re not all the way there, Shadow and I, but we have had a few break through moments. Natalie comes today at 10.

     

    Just a moment: Trump Tarrific wants retailers to “eat” the tariffs. Guess we could call that a value negated tax or VNT. The mirror of VAT.

    Not sure you’d feel Great quite yet if your profit margins dipped in order to prop up red tie guy’s simulacrum of economic policy. But, hey, we’ve all got to take one for the team now and then. Eh?

     

    Ruth at the DMZ