Category Archives: Asia

Acting, Asia, Politics, Shadow Mountain, Travel, World History, Writing

First World Problems

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Summer and the Summer Moon Above

Tuesday gratefuls: Friends and family visiting. Visiting friends and family. Travel. Korea. Israel. Murdoch and his pink slipper. Conifer Cafe. A great workout, 140 minutes. Loaner hearing aid. New one on the way. Amy. Her trip to New Zealand to watch the U.S. Women’s Soccer team. Honeycrisp Apple and Peanut butter. Aspen Perks. Primo’s. Breakfast Places. The Bread Lounge. Parkside. Wildflower. Blackbird Cafe. And friends to eat breakfast with. Tom. Alan. Rebecca. Marilyn and Irv. Tara.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Sharing meals

One brief shining: The often empty hearts of politicians seeking advantage power and wealth collude with the often empty hearts of the wealthy who want or is it need advantage power and wealth too so often this happens that the two become the same seeking that which is unnecessary for tasks that no one wants completed in the process ruining lives soil a planet the only one we have while what they truly need doses of love justice and compassion eludes them both.

 

Yesterday. Breakfast at the Conifer Cafe. Tom. Violet there, too. This time with red hair. I may go blond soon, she said, as she poured me some more coffee. Tom and I dealt with first world problems needing solution. His: AC problems. A tradesmen inflicted wound of a compressor coil which knocked out one. Stress after that knocked out the other one. With Kate this would have qualified as a reason to visit a hotel until all was well and truly cool again. Mine: a hearing aid that won’t charge. Made an appointment with Amy. Went down the hill to see her. She gave me a loaner and says a new one is on the way.

As I said a few posts ago, we can view these problems as hassles or as evidence of our continuing agency. We’re not dead yet. They are opportunities to retain contact with the world, meet new people, cement working relationships. And as my buddy Alan says these are first world problems. Not talking about starvation, war, oppression, poverty. A useful reminder when things bump bang and whimper in the night.

 

I plan to spend most of today working on Herme. I’d like to get at least two different sets of Cold Mountain poems organized. Both with an internal trajectory. I also want to spend a good bit of time on the introduction to the project. Playing further with the idea of a one-act play.

 

Also need to call Colorado Gas and schedule a change out of my meter.

 

Beginning to think about the Korea trip at a bit finer grain. Gifts for Seoah’s family. For her and my son. A house warming gift for her parents. Seoah’s brother built them a new home. I did buy today two contemporary histories of Korea.

 

Oh the winds of change. Noticed Putin’s face looked a little sour in a Washington Post photo. Well it might. Strong men who suddenly look weak often don’t last long.

Until tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

Asia, Commentary on the news, Politics, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate, World History

Hail, Hail, the Hail’s all here

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Summer and the Summer Moon Above

Thursday gratefuls: Tom. Arriving today. Dick Arnold. My roommate in Jerusalem. Jamie. Herme. His story. Diane. The Ancient Brothers on Earth. A blue Sky. Slight Wind. Hail and Thunder last night. More Water. Planning, making trips real. Vince, coming to mow today. Shadow Mountain. Writing dialogue for Herme. And Ovidius Publius. Joan and Ruth. Gabe and his new guitar, amp. Sarah and BJ. Unloading books. In BJ’s own personal Idaho.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: South Korea, K-dramas

One brief shining: Life with that old excitement you know things to do in the future and a good day today Korea in August and Israel in October the Herme project beginning to take shape with Herme and the Old Grey Magician and Cold Mountain sharing a room together at the showcase upcoming, taking a bow before taking a plane.

 

Hail lies thick on the driveway and covers the Dandelions like Snow. The Thunder roared, the Clouds were big. The Lightning flashed and killed a Pig. Recalled that ditty many times in Minnesota, rarely here. Last night though…

The night of the Summer Solstice and the temperature went down to 46. The Hail pounded so hard on the windows that it woke me up and kept me up until it passed. Even with my hearing issues. Small Hail, larger than Grappel, around pea sized. The Aspens lost some Leaves, but not too many. Glad for that. The Irises are still Leaves only above the Soil so they’re fine. The Lodgepoles seem unflustered.

An exciting night.

 

The submersible. Gosh. Every cell of my claustrophobic body clenches up when I read the news about the Titan. It has seventeen bolts which tighten from the outside. No way out. No need at the crushing depths it visits anyhow. Though a lot of my claustrophobia focuses on could I get out if something bad happened. Why I couldn’t even go down the elevator in the mineshaft at the Lake Vermillion-Soudan mine. I wanted to go see the neutrino experiment at the very bottom. I looked at the elevator. I looked at its route, twenty-four hundred feet through solid rock at a slant. I bought tickets. I looked at the elevator. Its route. Nope, I turned around and walked away.

Even with a spare $250,000 you wouldn’t find me in that submersible. Would I want to be there? Yes. Could I? No. I’ve never done the gradual exposure therapy that can cure phobias.

 

Politics and its bedfellows. India and the U.S. Sure the world’s soon to be largest country has English as a common language with the U.S. Along with hundreds of other languages. Sure my son’s from Bengal. Sure the British stamp on India remains indelible if still deplorable. And yes India prefers to count itself as non-aligned, neither pro-Russian nor pro-China nor pro-West.

Yet India also has extensive commercial ties with Russia. There is, too, the India of Narendra Modi summarized in this NYT article today. Which disturbs me. A lot.

This is the classic example of the enemy of our enemy, China, might well be our friend. Maybe? But. Do we want to be buddies with an autocratic chauvinist who has sidelined Muslims and other non-Hindus, encouraged caste discrimination, and started a push to devolve the status of women? From a geo-political perspective it’s a tough call. A humane perspective though suggests now is not the time.

Acting, Asia, Commentary on Religion, Faith and Spirituality, Judaism, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant.

Herme and Religion’s Institutional Decline in the U.S.

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Summer and the Summer Moon Above

Wednesday gratefuls: Shirley Waste. Joan. Abby. Debbie. Alan. Marilyn. Tal. Rebecca. Cold Mountain. China. Chinese art and poetry. Asia. The arts of Asia. Song dynasty painting and ceramics. The Japanese tea ceremony. Ichi-go, ichi-e. Wabi-Sabi. Korean celadon. Ukiyo-e wood cuts. The temples of Angkor and Bangkok. Haiku. Zen. Chan Buddhism. Applause last night when I finished reading Cold Mountain poems. Keys on the Green. Beet salad and a Reuben. Coffee. With Rebecca Martin. Heated days. My fan, air purifier, oxygen concentrator, and mini-split on cool. All electric sleeping aids.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Spoken Word

One brief shining: Last night I learned again how pleasant it is to have people clap for something I’ve done when all I did was read poetry by Cold Mountain out loud stopping between 10 poems for dramatic effect and interpreting his condensation of Mountain recluse scholar life.

 

Herme, the character for my character study class, has begun to emerge. His first work has been identifying 8 to 10 poems of Cold Mountain to use as the core of his piece. I have at least two other components to add to the project. A way of introducing the Hooded Man of the Wildwood Tarot Deck as Herme himself. Then weaving into his major arcana characteristics the Celtic ways of the Old Grey Magician. I want Herme to blend the Hooded Man and the Old Grey Magician into one person. Following that I need to figure out a way for Herme to introduce himself and the poetry of Cold Mountain without becoming didactic. The obstacle I feel right now is the gulf between the world of the Celts and Tarot  and the somewhat hard edged, very Chinese world of Cold Mountain. The bridge is the reclusive nature focus. I know that much.

I toyed on the way home last night from acting class-driving up the hill between Shadow Mountain and Black Mountain-with doing the whole project as a one act play. My aim would be introduce the not well known in the U.S. Chinese tradition of Rivers and Mountains poetry to Mountain audiences. The reception of Cold Mountain’s work the two times I’ve read them has been wonderful. Part of it is Cold Mountain’s rendering of life in the Mountains away from the dust of urban life delivered to an audience of Mountain dwellers. Might be fun. A playwright? Why not?

Acting calls on different aspects of my person than my usual reading and writing. Emotions. Body. Alertness to an audience. Ability to read the words of others in a manner that conveys meaning using all of those tools. I find the challenge energizing. Not looking forward to the memory work however. I have to get better at that. Somehow.

 

How bout those Southern Baptists? Doubling down on, well, stupidity. Closing doors left slightly ajar that allowed women, oh the shame of it, to mount pulpits and lead congregations. This article in today’s NYT, The Largest and Fastest Religious Shift in America is Well Underway, is the most recent of four articles focused on the secularization of American life. A phenomenon already well played out in Europe. In the article they argue that those institutions with high barriers to entrance also have high barriers for leaving and have suffered less attrition than those like my previous religious home, the Presbyterian Church U.S.A. which were more liberal in their theologies. Yet they too have begun to decline, a long slow ride to virtual irrelevance as far as the broader culture is concerned.

Many years ago in the 1980’s I got my Doctor of Minister degree. My thesis way back then was on the decline of the Presbyterian church and other liberal Christian denominations. I don’t even remember my arguments. I’ll have to get the thesis out and read it again. I used to be pretty knowledgeable about all this.

Oddly I still believe in religious institutions but not ones with high barriers to entry and leaving. I believe in them as small communities where friendships can develop, where life’s big questions can be explored, where life’s transitions can receive ritual expression, and where the knowledge of the past can inform and leaven the present. Reconstructionist Judaism does it for me, at least in its CBE expression. But any religion could open itself in the same way. And I hope they do because religious life is an ur part of human life, one developed long before academics and politics and cell phones, and one with a vital human contribution to make.

 

 

 

Asia, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Hermitage, Judaism, Korea, Politics, Shadow Mountain, US History, World History

Introversion. Remembering.

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Beltane and the Shadow Mountain Moon

Monday gratefuls: The Indy 500. The Monaco Grand Prix. Grandsons. Granddaughters. Kate, missing her this Memorial Day. May be for those fallen in war, yes, but I take it too for those fallen from that most terminal of diseases: life. A second bright blue Sky in a row. The thirst quenched Lodgepoles green and healthy. Aspens beginning to Leaf out. The Iris emerging from the Soil. Kate’s Lilacs have bud’s. Korea. A high apartment. Moving day for my son and his wife. Baseball, America’s game, like basketball, now played all over the world. Neither though as big as soccer.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Gabe, his sweet smile

One brief shining: Sometimes I doubt my introversion since I enjoy being with people, talking, listening, laughing, learning then I have a week like last week Dismantling Racism, lunch with Marilyn and Irv and Heidi, dogsitting Leo, getting Kep’s remains, Rabbi Jamie, then Rebecca, Leslie’s funeral, Ode and Dennis that night, a missed massage due to traffic delays in Evergreen, mussar, breakfast with Alan in Denver, three hard workouts, and then baseball with Gabe even with some down time interspersed the emotional intensity of last week drained my social battery, left me with no charge and I thought oh I see yes you introverted guy.

 

Glad to have a full day here on Shadow Mountain with nothing to do. Saturday the same helped but baseball wore me out all over again. The driving. All the people. Those hard seats. Dealing with parking. Yeah. Fun, sure. But also. Oh, my.

Days with nothing on the calendar shine for me. I can work on Ancientrails, cook for myself, maybe do some chores. Read. Watch a movie. Hike. I’ve begun too putting these on my calendar: go anywhere days. Also days with nothing in them but days I can get up in the morning and drive to Gunnison, see the Black Canyon. Stay overnight somewhere if I want. Short trips, beginning to see Colorado. None yet but coming up this summer.

Today has these elements: breakfast, workout. Watch the Monaco Grand Prix on F1 TV. Recorded. Make some lunch or not. Dinner if not. Start reading Fever in the Heartland. Thanks, Ode. Get outside some.

 

A word about Memorial Day. Imagine all the graves, all over the world. The dead from wars of all kinds. Colonial wars. Wars for land, for slaves, for God and country, blood and soil. Wars of liberation. Wars between Kings, between countries, between tribes. Economic wars where the winners scoop up all the wealth and leave hardly any for the gleaners who work in filling station convenience stores, bag groceries, run the cash register at Walmart, Petsmart, Subway. We speak here of lives cut short, lives worn down death coming from exhaustion and depression.

Dennis Ice. Richard Lawson. Others from my high school killed in Vietnam. So. Damned. Senseless. Those WW I and II veterans who lie in Europe in the fields of Normandy, in the Argonne Forest, along the Maginot line, in Germany and Italy and northern Africa. The victims of the Holocaust. Also memorialized here this day.

We remember of course to acknowledge sacrifice, yes, but can we also remember to learn? I hope so.

 

 

Asia, Denver, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Plants, Travel

Distance and depth

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Beltane and the Shadow Mountain Moon

Saturday gratefuls: My son and his wife, moving into a house. Korea, far away across the waters of the Pacific. Alan and Tom. Diane. Leslie, composting. Marilyn and her grandson in Italy. Josh who grew the Cubensis. Memorial Day Weekend. The Indy 500. The Monaco Grand Prix. Shrimp and grits from Lucille’s. The Nuggets. Psilocybin. Mark and Dennis in Paonia. The Lodgepoles out my window, moved by a slight Wind, waving their Cones at me. Lightning and Thunder last night.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Flashes of Lightning

One brief shining: Yesterday afternoon around four pm the psilocybin peaked and the Aspens with their upturned Branches praised the Sun by producing small yellow green Leaflets while the Lodgepoles bowed their Branches in perpetual prayer, both worshipers of the Great Sol, giver of energy and heat, and I did the same by standing on my driveway feeling the light that had traveled millions and millions of miles warm me.

 

Korea is a long way away. 6,196 miles according to Travelmath. That is, as we would say in Indiana, a f’r piece. During my psilocybin experience yesterday afternoon I got hit with a deep wave of love for my son and his wife, then a sense of how far away they now are. Really far. I looked up driving distance on Travelmath and it said, complicated. You might even have to swim. True that.

The military produces these long distance relationships over and over again. This is my son’s second deployment to Korea. He’s also been in the Middle East several times. Not to mention all those years in Georgia. And that one year in Singapore. Then, Hawai’i.

Glad for Kakao and Zoom, e-mail. Even Facebook. Connecting us.

 

While I got the mail yesterday, I walked over to the Iris bed which I had expanded at Kate’s request. Her purple Irises have begun to emerge. Some of her ashes fed them on August 18th of 2021, which would have been her 77th birthday. Tears came unbidden as I remembered the purple garden I planted for her 65th. Psilocybin seems to lure emotions to the surface with the least of stimulations. I enjoyed that part of the experience a lot. Sadness does not block joy and Kate’s memory is a blessing, however it comes up.

 

Lucille’s Creole Cafe has three spots in Denver. Kate and I used to go down once in a while for beignets, cajun breakfasts. Alan and I went to the one on E. Evans. I had a huge cup of their cafe au lait and breakfast with poached eggs, red beans, and cheese grits. Ordered shrimp and grits to go. The Cafe itself is light and airy, filled with New Orleans jazz posters and memorabilia. Our waitress had on a t-shirt that read, Friends with Benedicts.

It was fun to drive down the hill on a bright blue Colorado Morning. Felt like I was going on a mini-vacation. Lucille’s added to that.

 

Taking Gabe to the Rockies game tomorrow. The all new spiffy New York Mets are playing.

 

 

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Entheos

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Beltane and the Mesa View Moon

Monday gratefuls: Curiosity. The Ancient Brothers. Mark and Dennis. Coming May 23rd. Yet more Rain. Even more swollen Streams. Ancientrails as a life project. Tom and his time with Charlie H. Bill and his time with Bella. Mark and his time at the gym. Anytime Fitness. My treadmill. Marilyn. Ginnie. Josh. Jane. Kat. A banker. Vulcan Centaur.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rocket Scientists

One brief shining: A beautiful woman with a long braid dangling over her t-shirt down to her space themed spandex had, on the back of the blue t-shirt an outline of the Vulcan Centaur rocket, on the front ULA and I asked, I’m too ignorant to know but is that a real rocket ship?

 

Yes. She answered. And I was working on it until I quit my job a year and a half ago. What was your area of expertise? Vibration and acoustics. Oh. I see. Not sure why I keep running into engineers. But I do.

CBE is amazing. All these smart people. This was at the Dismantling Racism class yesterday afternoon. Looked up the Vulcan Centaur and it’s been under development since 2014. Supposed to fly for the first time in July. Had a setback a month ago though with a second stage explosion during preparation for a launch.

The class has gotten better. Taking a mussar approach to the work. I like it for the inner work though I chose an opponent for my practice this week. Four areas of possible practice each week: with HaShem (God), with Self, with a fellow, especially a victim of anti-black racism, or with an opponent.

My practice involved an e-mail to a person with whom I’ve had long standing differences. Sent it last night and got a reply this morning. A sweet one. Maybe there’s something to this approach. The middah this week is kavod, or honor. Honoring self and other. The theological idea is the all made in God’s image trope. Said another way, we’re all human, all riding this blue spaceship our only home together with all the other critters and plants. Honor it all.

 

During the Ancient Brothers session on curiosity I identified curiosity as my defining characteristic. And naming what I call the valedictory lifestyle. As a valedictorian myself I’ve occasionally become curious (see!) about what happens to others who graduate first in their class academically. Turns out usually nothing spectacular. Sure a lot go into academics. Some have successful careers in business or the sciences.

But usually no stars. No one off achievements. No amazing inventions. Why? Because we’re generalists. We easily get sidetracked by something new and shiny. If purity of heart is to will one thing, we’re not at all pure.

I call them enthusiasms. My enthusiasms can last a long time. Religion has turned out to be the longest lasting, but inside that broad category I’ve been all over the place. From existentialist atheist to Christian to Unitarian-Universalist to Pagan and wanderer with the tribe. There’s a piece of each of these, often substantial pieces that remain intact within me. All somehow glued together with Taoism.

There’ve been many others. Art, my twelve years at the MIA. Politics, lasting almost as long as religion, but again all over the place in terms of action. Islam which I studied after 9/11. Horticulture. Cooking. Heating with wood. Beekeeping. Dogs. World travel. F1. Science. Tarot and Astrology. Cinema. Acting. Writing. Getting degrees. Tea. Korean and now Spanish. Oh, and one that actually has been lifelong, reading. Not sure when I learned but I’ve never ever stopped. Buying books, too. To feed the habit. I’ve dabbled in painting and sum-e.

Enthusiasms in my life are more than dabbling but less than enough to gain full mastery. But I must admit it’s been, is being, a hell of lot of fun.

 

 

 

 

Asia, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, World History

Prep. Korea.

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Spring and the Kepler Moon

Monday gratefuls: Gatorade. Dulcolax. Miralax. Gas-X. Colonoscopy prep. Tara, taking me. My son and his wife’s wedding anniversary. Seven years. Probate. Jon, a memory. Kate, always Kate. Kep. Doug. A freshly painted interior. A good experience. A freshly cleaned out interior. Not such a good experience. Brother Mark in Saudi. An old Saudi hand. Mary in Eau Claire, teaching. A Mountain early morning.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Korea

 

The newest wrinkle in colonoscopy prep. Split prep. You drink half of the 2 quarts of Gatorade and Miralax starting at 5 pm the day before. Then, six hours before the procedure get up and drink the other half. That meant I started hitting the Gatorade again at 4 am. This morning. A treat.

Ritualistic. Coming to the temple of medicine purified, washed out. Following orders. Preparing yourself for an inner journey. A journey of exploration and discovery.

Not terrible. Not much fun either. Every ten years seems like about the right amount of time to wait. This should be my last one.

 

Finished Undertow and began Why Liberalism Failed by Patrick Deneen. A thoughtful exercise in political theory and history. Obama praised it. A  good read for anyone interested in the deeper roots of today’s political malaise.

 

Not sure I would have paid much attention to Korea had there not been a personal connection. Now I see articles about Korea and read them. K-Pop. K-drama. The first one I read about, the second one I watch.

Korean history intertwines with Japan, as its occupier and invader off and on over the last 500 years. The occupation of Korea by Japan from 1910 to 1945 ended with the finish of WWII. My daughter-law’s father was born during the occupation.

Since the Japanese engaged Koreans in forced labor, including sex work as comfort women, and took land from its Korean owners, there has been a long standing resentment toward the Japanese in Korea. That seems to be changing now.

A key driver in the change is the emergence of China as a regional powerhouse and global leader. Korea, like many Asian nations, saw China as the epitome of civilization, adopting the Chinese writing system and Confucian values. Now Korea finds itself a small country in the shadow of an increasingly aggressive China.

Taiwan stands out as a possible flashpoint in the Far East. The U.S. has worked hard at relationships with Asian countries like the Philippines, Japan, Korea, Australia, and, ironically, Vietnam. This means Korea finds itself embedded in a struggle between great powers. Who are its allies? The U.S. Yes. But Japan as well.

There is also a good deal of tourism from Korea to Japan. My daughter-in-law’s father raised her to differentiate between the Japanese government and the Japanese people. Korea and Japan have vibrant economies and democratic governance.

What does the future hold for Japan/Korea relations? It seems to me that current geopolitical realities predict closer ties between the two. As the soft diplomacy of tourism and popular entertainment work on the two nations, perhaps a new relationship between them will emerge.

 

 

Asia, Cinema and Television, Hermitage, Shadow Mountain, Travel

Painting Begins

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Spring and the Painted Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Doug. Working hard. Kep. Kate, always Kate. Tom in Miami. Mark. Mary in Eau Claire. My son and his wife. 3 Margaritas, now 3 Victorias. Carne Asada. Marty, who helped me pick colors. Alan. Marilyn in Belize. Passover. Easter. Christian Nationalism. The dissident right. The Trumpian right. The moderate right. All spotlights on aspects of our culture in trouble. Trump’s legal troubles. The Fed.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Marilyn in Belize with her granddaughter

 

Doug showed up around 9:30 yesterday morning. Bandana tied around his head and a red striped shirt. Painter’s pants. We talked a bit. He complimented me on the work I’d done to get the room, Kate’s old sewing room, ready. He worked steadily until 4:30. Spackling holes, putting up the blue tape, using a brush where he needed to. He’ll be working in that room today, too.

Meanwhile the kitchen has boxes and a light stand and a bronze container for canes and umbrellas and my recycling container. Its floor is almost full. Makes it tough to cook. So I didn’t. Went out to Three Margaritas which is now 3 Victorias. Not clear why. I asked the waiter. He said, all the same, all the same.

I’ve been such a good boy on the Mediterranean diet. Fruit and nuts and fish and chicken. Vegetables. Had Carne Asada. Tasted good. I rarely go out to eat for dinner. Usually breakfast or lunch. It was a treat. Nice to have someone else cook. See other folks enjoying their food.

 

Been watching the Netflix series, Narcos. The rise and fall of Pablo Escobar. My first foreign travel other than Canada was to Colombia. In 1989. Just after Escobar had partnered with communist guerillas to invade the Supreme Court. He gave them two million dollars and in return they burned a whole roomful of evidence against him.

The Supreme Court building still had damage when we saw it. Watching the series I now understand why the Fodor’s travel guide warned against travel to Colombia. The State Department also recommended against. La Violencia ended in 1958, a period of violent struggle between the Liberal and Conservative parties. This period, the time of Escobar from 1976 when he formed the Medellin Cartel to his death at 44 in 1993, rivaled La Violencia and exceeded it in that Escobar brought the violence into urban areas.

Odd to see the turmoil roiling that country during the time of my visit. It was the first place I saw armed guards patrolling urban neighborhoods. That shocked me.

 

Speaking of Escobar how bout that Trump? Fantasizing about how to do the perp walk. Should he smile at the journalists? Or walk by with his head held high? Will his peeps show up? As long as the perp walk ends up with the Orange One in a jail cell, I don’t care at all how he comports himself.

 

Read an interesting opinion piece in the Washington Post about Xi’s visit to Moscow. According to this article by David Ignatius, Xi went to Moscow to prop up his western flank by creating an Eurasian bloc with China firmly in control. As Putin’s war in Ukraine has weakened rather than strengthened him, he needs the cover of Xi’s China. Worth reading.

Asia, Cooking, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Hermitage, Politics, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate

Sweetness

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Imbolc and the Waiting To Cross Moon

Sunday gratefuls: For each of the Ancient Brothers and their uniqueness. Zoom. Kep drinking Water. That ancient Water. Recycled through time, now in an aluminum bowl near me. And, in Kep. Becoming Kep. Dr. Doverspike skiing the Powder. Organizing and cleaning out my freezer. Done. Cooking my own food. Chicken. Pork. Fish. Sustainable all. Frozen Vegetables and Fruit. Eggs. Seeing Gabe on Monday night. Ruth thrifting in Boulder.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Seeing what we’re looking at

 

Sweetness. My son and his wife. Dressed for golf. He’s shooting for a 20 handicap. He’s got the bug big time. So does she. They play every weekend. Often 36 holes or more. Murdoch has become less independent. More of a lap dog. Odd. Might be sensing the upcoming move.

Sweetness. Seeing those old men on my zoom screen opening their hearts. Letters from great-grandchildren. Imagination. Looking up at the stars and out to the tides. And into each other. Special and irreplaceable. Church.

Gettin’ things done. Home office getting closer. Needs a great rug. Some more art. Working my way through the needs attention inbox. Finished it. Nothing left. Feels good. Money piling up in my accounts. Changed draw from the rollover, but no money going out for drugs. Orgovyx free now until the end of the year. Erleada still no word. I’ll lower the draw when I find out about it. Not till then though. Potentially $2,200 a month.

The freezer. Threw out old meat. Made three compartments: Fruits and Potatoes. Vegetables. Meats. Much better. Food of my own making. Yes.

 

Reading my way into the changes in our world. The times they are achangin’ agin’. Becoming Native to This Place. Vibrant Matter. Christian Nationalism. Seeing Like a State. Perilous Bounty. Lots of magazine and newspaper articles. Other reading I’ve done over the years. Localism. Anti-corporatism. A reverence for nature. Threads I held and hold dear. Now running through a crowd of folks who hate government, love the Founders and the Extremes, guns, staying in your tribal lane. Who are willing to regulate women’s bodies. Who want to exit the current culture and live in the West.

There is a post-Enlightenment movement that has handholds for all these folks, for me. Post modernism. Regenerative agriculture. Rebuilding rural communities. Rebuilding inner city neighborhoods. Enforcing monopoly laws. Reinstating the estate tax. A wariness of Big Pharma, Big Grain, Big Ag, Big Business.

Getting clearer. Details and conflicts. Roots. Possible impacts on current politics.

 

A bit of good news. La Nina is gone! An El Nino will startup sometime this  year. Water will follow for the dry West. And this Forest in which I live. May it be enough to create a moderate Fire season as opposed to a high or extreme one. Something to ease the mind. Help the Snowpack and the Colorado River Basin.

How bout that time change, eh? So. Much. Fun. Kep’s making moves for food. Early, he thinks. Really, a bit late. I slept in. Right past the change. Now Kep and I are living it together. Oh boy.

 

 

Asia, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Jefferson County, Mountains, Park County, Shadow Mountain

A Mobile Crew

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Imbolc and the Waiting to Cross Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Kep, the 5:30 am nudger. We two old codgers get up. This one still in REM sleep. Yoga mats. For the Kep. My son’s good work on the probate. Jen. Ruth. Gabe. Death. Jon, a memory. Kate, always Kate. Darkness. My old friend. A Mountain Morning. The oriental rug. Now a large traction mat for Kep. Pangaea Carpets. Evergreen Design Center. Clean house. Cheeba Chews.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Continental Divide visible on the way to Bailey

 

Thinking about my buddy Paul living near the Atlantic Ocean and the Bay of Fundy. Surrounded by good fishing. Northern Forests. The St. Croix River. Close to Canada. A distant world. My own Mid-Continent life. The Midwest, then the West. On a Mountain Top. Far from the fresh Waters of Minnesota now, far from the salt Waters of the Atlantic or the Pacific always. Hawai’i would give me a linkup with the World Ocean. One reason it appeals to me.

Having Mary, Mark, my son and his wife in Asia for so many years. My attention pivoted, turned West. Far West. Thailand. Korea. Singapore. It remains there, peeled away from my long European fixation. Except for Britain. Continental Europe used to hold many of my travel dreams, scholarly fantasies. Not now.

Going to Korea later this year. When I can stay longer, I’ll add in Taipei.

Brother Mark starts today at Amazon’s OKC2, one of its largest warehouses in the Oklahoma City area. His first full time work since moving back to the U.S. from Saudi Arabia. May his day be full and not feel long. Mary has moved back to Eau Claire. My son and his wife will leave Hawai’i for Korea. A mobile crew.

 

A trip to Bailey yesterday. Happy Camper. Topping up the indica supply. A beautiful drive with the Continental Divide in the far distance. Not as Snow topped as I expected. Mt. Blue Sky had a Snow storm as did Mt. Rosalie. 285 was clear.

Chose to get money from the ATM in Happy Camper. Tried twice with my credit card. Oops. Worked with my debit card. A once every couple of months trip for me. I wanted to include lunch at the Smiling Pig, a new Tex-Mex joint in the old Rustic Station, but it’s not open on MTW. Will have to just drive over there for lunch one of these ThFSaSun. The pandemic was rough on restaurants everywhere. I imagine that’s what took out the Rustic Station. It had great buttermilk pancakes.

After that drive I went to Evergreen, looking for an area rug for my upstairs office. Still not done tricking it out. Pangaea Carpets had a lot of beautiful carpets and area rugs. Got to measure my space.

Also. Still looking for a Western something to put on my mantel once Doug gets my interior painted. Stuff there was too generically upscale Western. May hunt for a large Buffalo photograph. Back to the house for a little Korean, some pan fried ground pork with milk gravy.