Category Archives: Weather +Climate

This and that

Heirloom tomato plants ok! The cold, I guess, would prevent them from producing, but I’ll have the heater working and that won’t be a problem. Relieved. So looking forward to a whole Black Krim or Brandywine. No taste like heirlooms off the plant. Will spoil you. No grocery store tomatoes again except for sauces.

My new goal. Walk to Artemis and back. Maybe get my hands in the soil. Turns out Mt. Evans p.t./o.t. lost two staff to emergency medical leave. No new patients until at least early June. Up to me. I’ve pushed myself so often over the past couple of years. Tired of it.

Didn’t make it to my oncology appointment. Realized I couldn’t walk unaided. Need a walker. Ordered one. May do telehealth. Bupathi took me off the trial pills, abriteraone. Prednisone, too. Hopes to help my fatigue. Get me back on my feet faster. May it be so.

Gabe graduates today. Two years after Ruth. He’s headed to the local Jesuit University, Regis, this fall. He’s leaving public school with momentum. Writing awards. A special girl. Go, Gabe. I will not be attending. See note about oncology appointment.

Rainy and chilly. 44 degrees. Memorial day in the past; Beltane a month underway. Only 24 days till the summer solstice. A real twist after our long, hot winter.

So. Is the war over? We strike. Iran retaliates. Peace negotiations stalled. Where is the great dealmaker? Probably at Mar-a-Lago adding pounds and playing rounds.

 

A Good Day

Yesterday. Felt like my old self. Agency, interest. Made calls. Ordered a new pillow and dog treats for Shadow. First time for a few weeks I’ve had some zip. Didn’t change, of course, my weakened physical condition, but I felt clear, my whole person awake and alert.

That does mean, too, that I’ve not felt that way for over five weeks. Tough to remain resilient when I can’t summon the mental energy to make phone calls.

Today I’ve reverted to the clouded, weary headspace. Writing this feels difficult, takes energy to type. Even so, a good day means I have that in me, still. As I eat more, get back to p.t., more will come.

Sent an e-mail to Jeffco courts. Sorry, I’m not able to be a juror. Confirmed by letter from Sue Bradshaw. I like jury duty. An important aspect of our democracy. Which I hold dear.

Three more cool nights then spring will break out on Shadow Mountain. We’ve had a saving round of precipitation in May. Unexpected and delightful. Also, a bit of winter in the year with no winter.

 

Meanwhile back in Dopy Don’s alternate universe $1.8 billion dollars awaits deserving applicants like those who suffered the federal governments successful prosecution over participation in the January 6th insurrection. Makes my head spin. Even the fund itself is shady. Everything Dopy Don touches has an immediate stench.

 

A Permanent Hall Pass

Our winter in spring continues with a white blanket of snow and freezing temps. Weird. But nice. Warming toward the end of the week.

Melissa came. I took a two hour nap so she cooked and did laundry. We’ll get to the decluttering on Friday. Pleased with her. Her food makes life better for me.

I continue to coast on a plateau, feeling much better than the last four weeks, yet not seeing gains beyond that. My referrals for in-home p.t. and o.t. have not been acted  on. Eventually. That’s when I expect further progress.

Included now among Dopy Don’s presidential perks: a permanent hall pass from the I.R.S. Allows the holder to have no peaking at their returns. Why would an honest taxpayer need this? Exactly.

The fleecing of the USA. Courtesy of, your President.

Moderate Risk

Another good night’s sleep. Cold air through my open window. A Kate star quilt covering my electric blanket. Shadow curled up by my head. Dreams.

Only problem. Still tired when I get up. Wonder if my treatment induced anemia has gotten worse.

Melissa comes today. We (well, really, she) will prepare the bedroom so the mini fridge is ready for the microwave that comes Saturday. If there’s time, we’ll begin decluttering this space.

Snow again yesterday. Smoky the Bear, Tom reported, points to moderate fire risk. Much better. Thank you, May winter.

 

My travel snowpack sits way below normal.

Imbolc and the Moon of Tides

Shabbat gratefuls: Snow! Vince. Shadow, dancer in the snow. Ruth. French toast and bacon. Lab results unread.

Rene Good. Alex Pretti. Say their names.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Snow

 

art@willworthington

Kavannah: Groundedness. Yesod.    Yesod is about establishing oneself in reality, refusing to rely on comfortable illusions

 

Tarot: Page of Vessels, Otter     I need more play, more  lightheartedness.

 

One brief shining: Snow fell. Mountain joy. Our drought parched Arapaho National Forest. The lodgepoles and aspen at Shadow Mountain home. Need moisture. Even more, a lot more. I hunkered down, besotted by the falling, falling snow.

 

Snow brings water to thirsty grasses, trees. Skiers to A-Basin, Vail, Steamboat. Silence. Muffles sound. Alters the landscape, smoothing out rock outcroppings, covering vegetation.

Snow matters.

This winter, until yesterday: forty-nine inches. 2016: two-hundred and twenty inches. Snowpack way below normal. Never thought about snowpack in Minnesota. Here it’s vital. Not only for Colorado, but for the Colorado River basin. Las Vegas. Phoenix. LA. All depend on Colorado’s snowpack. Releasing water over time. Snow melt.

Surrounded by a National Forest filled with second stand, close together lodgepoles and aspen. Drought=high fire risk. Lodgepoles close together burn by crown fire. Fire jumps from the top of one tree to the next. Hot and fast. One reason we all pay ridiculous premiums for home insurance.

As the drought here deepens, I’ve been thinking about other droughts in my life. I’m in an exercise desert. My travel snowpack sits way below normal. Otter reminded me. I’m in a play and lightheartedness drought.

Exercise. Since I turned forty, I exercised. Daily often. No less than 5 days in a week. Resistance and cardio. Worked with my hands and legs in the garden. I was in good, no, excellent shape.

Of late. Not so much. I find excuses not to exercise. A tough day yesterday. Workout room too cold. Like today.

Mood regulation. Guard against heart attacks. Retain muscle mass. Balance work. Fall prevention. All benefits of regular exercise. Fights cancer, too.

But. Finish Ancientrails. I’m comfortable sitting down. I’m going to die of something anyhow. Why make the effort.

I hate this. Not exercising harms me physically. Perhaps even more mentally. Why am I not taking care of myself? A dissonance between how I perceive myself and how I act. How to bridge the gap.

Travel, like exercise, fills the heart. Shifts in perspective. Lightheartedness. So many good memories. Singapore. Angkor Wat. Joseon dynasty palace. Okgwa, Seoah’s home village. Street food in Bangkok. Blood pudding in Inverness. Italian coffee. Chilean fjords.

Last time I left home for more than a day: September, 2023. Back went bad. Sent me into chronic pain world. Better now. Stamina sucks. See exercise. Standing for any length of time. Nope. Makes travel feel onerous. Beyond me.

Drought takes. Water from the bunch grass and lodgepoles. Traveling to see Joe and Seoah. To see the National Museum in Taipei. Damages roots.

Like our snow drought I have no surefire way to fix my travel drought, my play and lightheartedness drought.

Drought dehydrates. Devastates. Stunts growth.

And yet. Snow slides off lodgepole branches. Shadow dances, her blackness covered in white.

 

That path is for your steps alone

Imbolc and the Moon of Deep Friendship

Monday gratefuls: Talking with Paul. His fettucine. Michael and Kate. Ramadan. Mark in far Hafar. Mary down under. Tsundoku.

Rene Good. Alex Pretti. Say their names.

 

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Millennials

Week Kavannah: Bitachon. Confidence.     I need to focus on confidence this week. Important decisions for cancer treatment, how to stay confident when physical weakness challenges me.

 

Tarot: Page of Vessels, Otter

Otter, who moves easily between land and water, encourages me to linger in my inner cathedral, bathe in its holy well of imagination, then write.

One brief shining: Once again a full table at Shadow Mountain Home, shared with two who will live into the heat of a changed nation, an altered climate, as will Ruth and Gabe, and three old men, loving the future through them all, seeing the struggle ahead but not able to be part of it.

 

Call it the tragedy of aging. I can see flooded subways, more hot, snowless winters. The hurricanes of political change. Tom, Paul, and I have laid our children and grand children on an altar of our own making. There is no ram coming in their place.

Fifty-three degrees. Yesterday. Scant Snow on the ground. Mid-February. Kate speaking. We’re all gonna fry.

Children and grandchildren we love and cherish face challenges of a scale so outsized I go pale.  Michael. Kate. Ruth. Gabe. Ellory. Sylvan. Say their names, too.

Other old white men. Say. No danger ahead. Chained to money, quarterly profit margins.

My mortality sinks into my bones. I love Joe, Ruth, Gabe. So much. And, they love me back, great joy.

“There is a road, no simple highwayBetween the dawn and the dark of nightAnd if you go, no one may followThat path is for your steps alone”

 

 

Is This a Friendly Place?

Yule and the Moon of Deep Friendship

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

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Science Fiction

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

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

Week Kavannah: Rachamim. Compassion.

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

Tarot: Page of Bows, Stoat

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blowin’ In the Wind

Samain and the waning crescent of Shadow’s Moon

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

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Generator

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

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

Becoming a metaPhysician

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey, Kate. We’re on generator.

The Continuing Adventures…

Samain and the Radiation Moon (5 down, 5 to go)

 

Wednesday gratefuls: Byte by byte. My weekly companions Paul, Tom, Diane. Tara and Eleanor, here twice yesterday. Feeling weary. Snow. A lot. Shadow, the mystery dog. Radiation. Varian’s Clinac iX. The drive down the hill and through the Hogback westward to Broadway. My pain free left hip, back, leg. A sense of, what? Melancholy.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: First Big Snow

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:  SERENITY   Menucha     Serene, literally “at rest/comfortable”                         “In Jewish tradition, ‘menucha’ (מְנוּחָה) signifies a profound state of spiritual and physical rest, tranquility, peace, and fulfillment, going far beyond merely ceasing work. It is a core concept tied to the Sabbath (Shabbat) and the ultimate spiritual destiny of the soul.” Gemini

Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: When I needed her, her and Eleanor, Tara hopped in her Pilot at 8:00 pm, with the sound of the Snow plow already heard in the land, and drove over here a second time, a confused Eleanor all black bouncy yeah I’m here energy as she came downstairs to rescue her stubborn friend Shadow from a night outside in the cold as a 10″ Snow began to fall.

Dog journal: The undoing of what seemed like a surefire incentive. Since our midsummer crisis when Shadow would not come in at night, the sound of food hitting the metallic bottom of her food bowl would bring her inside even if nothing else would. She chose a dark, cold, Snowy December evening to reject it.

She huddled first in a favorite spot from the summer, directly under the open bedroom window. Later I think she found shelter behind the garage or in the far northwest corner of the property.

Her food plinked into her bowl several times as I tried to cajole her to come inside. As she often does, she would come in part way, guarding her escape path through the open door, disappearing outside if I hinted at getting up.

Tara and Eleanor had come over at 1:30 for a playdate. Tara says Shadow is Eleanor’s best friend. They romp and run, playbow, chase each other. Doggie buddies.

As a literal last resort, I texted Tara and asked her to bring Eleanor over to get Shadow back inside. It’s a big ask at 7:45, I know. They came.

The minute Eleanor clambered down the stairs and over to the door, Shadow was there. They played outside briefly. Tara let them in, Shadow eagerly following Eleanor into the house. The door closed and that event was over. Shadow jumped up on Tara, happy to see her again so soon.

After Tara and Eleanor went home, I fed Shadow her evening meal. Which she enjoyed, wagging her tail. Happy to be inside.

Whaa?

 

Weather. The Snow has begun to accumulate inch by soft white inch. Our first big Snow of the season. I’m canceling my radiation session for today. Travel warnings are out for the day. A good thing since a combination of Shadow drama and radiation induced fatigue has me wrung out and hung up to dry.

 

Jumping Jack Frost

Mabon and the Samain Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Jamaica. Cuba. Puerto Rico. Grenada. A warm Caribbean. Melissa. The awesome power of Mother Earth. Rocky Mountain high. Far inland. Taking Joseph to Breckenridge during Katrina. Red Tie Guy in Korea. Their golden tributes. Xi Jinping. China. Vietnam. Malaysia. Singapore. Japan. Philippines. Cambodia. Thailand. Laos. Burma. Australia. New Guinea. Indonesia.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Asia

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Hochmah.  Wisdom.   “Who is wise? The one who learns from every person.”  Perkei Avot: 4:1   Making medical decisions this week.

Tarot: Paused

One brief shining: The controller on my electric blanket blinked F, F, F, meaning failure as the temperature through my open window fell to 17 degrees, chilling me beyond comfort, requiring lights, finding another blanket, though it may be a sign since my soon to arrive Butrans patch does not play well with electric blankets.

 

My medical October continues (and will spill over into early November): Maddie came yesterday, my palliative care nurse. So did Rachel, my brand new, Optum Health Care supplied social worker. I’m a revenue capture center all by myself.

Rachel introduced herself, a young woman like Maddie, short blond hair, sharp but not unpleasant features. I can help with transport, support of various kinds. After talking about wills (done), medical power of attorney (done), her final question showed where I am in life’s journey. How do you feel about hospice?

Sure, when the time comes, I think it makes sense. Oh. Here I am discussing end of life care. For me. Nothing soon, I hope. Still enjoying my path.

We then discussed my by now many ailments. The back. The hip. Cancer and the jumped up met on my T4 vertebrae. Finally, my floppy neck and the lack of good options. A unicorn, me.

Maddie helpfully followed up with Swedish central scheduling and my MRI got scheduled for November 5th. With that now in place I imagine Dr. Carter, a radiation oncologist whom I see Friday, will schedule radiation to kill that energized met. Back to Bupathi on the 17th of November. So. Much. Fun.

 

Mother Earth: On Sunday my Tomato plants stood tall, Cherry and Roma Tomatoes ripening, yellow spiky flowers promising more. On Tuesday morning it was over. A hard frost and the greenhouse temps fell into the high 20’s. When I walked in there yesterday morning, a desolate scene. Plants slumped over. Tomatoes on the Vine frozen through. Go now, the growing season has ended.

Even though I was sad, I felt lucky to have had as long and fruitful a growing season. Since I planted in late July, I thought I would only learn about how Artemis works this year. Instead I got Tomatoes, Beets, Spinach, Chard, Nasturtiums, and Cucumbers.

Strange for the growing season to have gone so long, but the greenhouse definitely extended my Tomato harvest for over a month. My Carrots still grow in the cold frame. Same with Spinach and Beets and Chard and Kale. At least as of yesterday. We had another hard freeze last night.