Category Archives: World History

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?

 

Dogs, Memories, Mountains, Politics, US History, World History

He could not resist

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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.

Colorado, Dogs, Greenhouse, Health, Politics, US History, World History

IMHO

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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.

Dogs, Friends, Greenhouse, Politics, Wild Neighbors, World History

A Sad Man

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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.