Category Archives: Weather +Climate

Aging, Colorado, Cooking, Family, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Jefferson County, Mountains, Our Land and Home, Shadow Mountain, Tarot, Weather +Climate

Health Insurance. Bah!

December 31, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Yule and the Winter Solstice Moon

webb sunshield covers released. mission day 5.

Where is the Webb? .4507 mps. 437000 miles from home, 462000 miles to L2. 49% of the way. Mission day 6.

Friday gratefuls: Lives saved in the Boulder County Fire. Wildfire. Snow coming. Winter relief from Wildfire. Winds. 40-50 mph here. 100 mph Boulder Country. Generator. Worked hard yesterday. Tom. Emergency alert bracelet. Friend. Digital clocks. Time. Jodi. Brian. Jon and Gabe, coming for New Years. Canceling Denver Post. Picking up Colorado Sun. 2022.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: 2022

Tarot: Blasted Oak, #16. Nine of Stones, tradition. Three of Arrows, jealousy. (energy of the day, embrace, avoid)

Lights on. Lights off. Generator on. Power back. Generator off. Repeat. 8 or 9 times in the morning, another 3 or 4 in the afternoon and evening. Wind, high winds. 40-50 mph gusts here all day and into the dark. 100 mph in Boulder County where grass fires used the oomph to burn over 600 houses. Coulda been here. The nightmare scenario. Cold weather, high winds, wildfire. A nightmare, but not impossible. At all.

Boulder County is 35 miles or so north of Conifer, a larger part in the Foothills to the west, but a significant chunk to the east where the Great Plains meet the Mountains. That area, and its continuation into the northern Denver metro, burned. Grassy Fields, flat. Winds coming down the Flatirons.

Most damaging Wildfire in the state’s history in terms of homes lost. The next highest loss. 489 in the Black Forest Fire of 2013. All of the most destructive fires have burned since 2012.

When you live here, you have to decide first if you want to stay. Kate and I chose again and again to stay. Now, I’m choosing the same path. But. That’s only the first choice. Then, you have to accept that someday your home, mine here at 9358 Black Mountain Drive, might burn. Denial is useless.

Either you say, well, it’s just stuff, or you move. If what you own is too precious to lose, you shouldn’t live here. From cabins to the custom built mansions perched high on the ridgeline, fire does not recognize status. See northern California or Boulder County, Colorado. Today.

Sorta screwed up with my health insurance. I had an appointment with Kristie on Monday. January 3. Occurred to me only Tuesday to check if there was a referral. No referral, I pay. None. A phone call to Arapaho Internal Medicine said I was an inactive patient. Would not make referral.

Had to cancel the appointment with Kristie and reschedule later in January. That gives me time to see my new doctor and get a referral. I tried to solve this appointment kerfuffle yesterday but my router kept going down. Had to wait until today. Mountain living.

Tom told me yesterday he worried about me living alone and isolated. I could fall, break a leg, whatever. He was right. I’d considered it, but put it away for a future date. Last week I slipped on the stairs up to the loft. Ice. Gave me, as Kate used to say, “An adrenal squeeze.”

So, I bought a service. Medical Guardian. Not cheap, about $500 a year or so. Still, if I need it once, it will more than pay for itself. Peace of mind, too. This getting old is not for sissies, yes, but it’s also not for the poor.

Jon and Gabe are coming up around 3 or 4 to spend New Year’s Eve. Ruth, the 15 year old, is going to a party that Jon referred to as chaperoned. Hormones. Need supervision.

Gonna cook half a chicken, mac and cheese for carbs, veggies. I doubt I’ll make it to 12. Rarely. Although, like last year, I might. Just to be damned sure this year goes away.

See ya, ha ha, next year!

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A Rake. And, two photos

December 11, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Moon of the Winter Solstice

Saturday gratefuls: Snow! Cold. Winter. A rest day. Feeling less bad. Template for the counter top done. Jodi. Best contractor I’ve worked with. Rabbi Jamie. Mourning. CBE. Safeway. Pickup. Frozen entrees. Microwave. Tom’s photos. His safe arrival in Minnesota Weather.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Frozen food

Tarot: Nine of Stones, Tradition. wildwood

Chilly. Colorado chilly. 15 degrees, some Snow. Maybe 3 to 4 inches. Good to see. It helps with the wildfire situation. Doesn’t solve it, but it helps. Also, beautiful.

Snow rake today. I’ve had the rake since we installed the solar panels, but never used it. This year, with the mini-splits installed and heating with Electricity, I plan to. You only have to rake a section off the bottom of each panel and the snow slides off as the sun comes out. At least that’s the theory. I’ve not done it yet, so I can’t really say.

Safeway pickup as soon as I finish with this. Torah study with Rabbi Jamie at CBE. 10 am. Jon at Gaetano’s for his 53rd birthday. 5:15 pm. Some stuff going on.

Still feeling a little off, but headed up rather than down. Not sure what that was about. Didn’t like it.

Pictures today courtesy of Tom Crane’s phone:

Kep and I contemplate the partially finished kitchen

Family, Fourth Phase, Health, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, The West, Weather +Climate

Remodeling. Water.

November 30, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the waning crescent of the Holiseason Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Land Institute. Giving. Tara. Jon and his worm fantasy. Rigel. Kep. The Sun. The Moon. Orion. The Zodiac. Republicans. Trump. Omicron. Covid. Death. Life. Kate, always Kate. Wood. Water. Fire. Air.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Kitchen remodel starts Monday

Tarot: The Queen of Stones, Bear. wildwood deck

Jodi emailed me yesterday. Bowe will demolish my kitchen on Monday. That’s a good thing. Because. He’ll start to rebuild it on Tuesday. Once he gets the cabinet bases in place the quartzite fabricator folks will come to do their arcane work. Can’t imagine the precision they have to have. Wait 10 days or two weeks. In which time Bowe will finish the cabinetry. After the installation of the counter top Bowe will put up the brick backsplash and make finishing touches. Done by Christmas. Probably.

Deconstruction. Yes. Construction. Yes.

This week then. Empty all the kitchen cabinets. Getting started today.

At that point I’ll be finished with my 2021 house projects: Staining the house. Adding the mini-splits. Remodeling the kitchen. Hermit neon sign. With one exception. I want to get the furniture rearranged. A lot of heavy lifting.

I’m going to text Mike Vanderhee who put in our fence. I imagine he has a buddy who’s strong like bull, too. Mike carried my 50 inch television up the stairs to the loft and put it in place. Damn thing is really heavy.

Next year. Couch and landscaping.

The ephemeral nature of all this. Could be a wildfire tomorrow. Take it all out. Just after it was done. Could be. But. I choose not to live that way. Insurance. A mountain attitude. Just things. Take the dogs and go.

Jon does not have hookworms. His cat apparently does. The urgent care folks said no. No evidence. He expressed chagrin. Anxiety. Rides him like a cowboy breaking a hoss. You know, rodeo metaphors. The West.

Speaking of the West. Snowpack worries have begun to show up in the Denver Post. The Southern and Southwestern part of the state are in 30% of normal range. The Northern part of the state is more like 75%. Most of the Snowpack comes later so no one is sure what’s going to happen, but the possibility for dry adding on to dry is high.

The highest stakes though are in the Northwestern part of the state where the Mountain snowpack feeds the Colorado. The reservoirs downstream like Lake Mead are so low that a minimal snowpack would (probably will) cause old Water rights to come into effect. This means upper basin states like Colorado and Utah may have to let more water go downstream than usual. Water rights holders in those two states may not get all the water they’re used to. The future. Is now.

As a lifelong resident of the humid East until 2014, I find Water politics passing strange. So important. The growth in Colorado population, which is rapid, is in the Front Range/Denver metro corridor. The Water is mostly in the Western part of the state. A call on Water rights for the Colorado could/would produce impacts here. Complicated. Difficult. No easy answer.

Well. Wildfires and Drought. The modern West. Right where I am.

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8 months

November 12, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Friday gratefuls: Cytopoint. VRCC. Chewy. Earth Venture. Veggie Dent. The Star show. Every night! The Winds of late Autumn in the Rockies. I am; therefore, I think. Thanks for that one, Tara. Tired Jamie. Jon. Winter tires back on Monday. Oil changed. Thanksgiving. Last holiday in the old kitchen. The mini-splits. Working. Lodgepoles bending. 25 mph Wind. Not breaking.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Kate’s Tiara for her 75th

Tarot: Seven of Bows, Wildwood Tarot

Kep into the VRCC for an allergy shot. Bought the next two doses so I don’t have to go back until February. His allergies are bad. Without cytopoint he scratches, bites himself. On his tail and his right rear haunch he gets below the skin, creates hotspots. Plus, he’s got the double coat for winter. That means when he scratches the fur literally flies. Doggy allergist to the rescue.

8 months ago today. Some day I might not notice the monthly anniversaries of Kate’s death. Not now. Those last days replay from time to time, not each minute, but significant moments.

Kate at Hwaesong, 18th century walled city, Korea

Like the time I asked Rabbi Jamie to buy me a ham and cheese at the deli. Seeing the ski runs on Black Mountain from a Swedish 10th floor window. Kate and I signing I love you. Her telling Kenton he’d done a good job on the arterial blood draw. When she said, in a cracking voice, “Death with dignity.” I nodded. “What do you think of my decision?” I hate it. It means I’ll lose you; but, I think it’s the right decision for you. Mozart minus Bach =’s Brahms. That call. She’s gone. As with Mom’s death and Joseph’s arrival, a stimulus for major change.

Re-membering her as a factor, now in memory, as I live. Wondering, what would Kate think? Taking her into account. Would she approve of the mini-splits? Yes, she would. The kitchen remodel? Probably, though she’d flinch at the cost. My decision to stay on Shadow Mountain? Oh, yes. Reorganizing the kitchen, the living room, downstairs, her sewing room? Not so much. What about Jon? Listen, empathize. Support. Within limits. Yes. Stay close to Ruth and Gabe. For sure. This will go on as life goes on.

Climate change. Glasgow. Climate pessimism. Nihilism. 47% of Republicans don’t believe we should regulate greenhouse gases. Why? Oh, just the planet going through a regular cycle. Or, made up by the elites. Or, don’t give a damn. And they may win the 2022 elections. An election that could doom the planet and human life as we know it. Talk about high stakes.

Even so. Can’t find the legs to get back into it. Distracted. Still working on the day-to-day. Feel guilty. The only thing necessary for evil to win is for good folks to do nothing. Not saying I’m good, but I have been willing to fight. Not right now. Or, Rabbi Tarfon: “You are not duty-bound to finish the work, but on the other hand, you have no right to waste time from it.” Not wasting time, me. So, ok.

Considering a new calendar rule. No more than two events of any kind outside of the house during the week. In spite of having a solo life I find distractions like appointments disturb my rhythms. I prefer alone time. A lot.

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Radical, man

November 8, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Monday gratefuls: Rigel. Her head on my pillow most of the night. Kep, so happy to get up. Orion of the morning. Skeletal Aspens. Lodgepoles waiting with spring loaded Branches. For Snow. Shadow Mountain. Solid Rock beneath my house, my feet. Black Mountain. Which tucks in the Sun.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Mitzvah

Tarot: See notes from my hexagram spread next post

Holiseason. A primer. I discovered holimonth 15 years ago. That was December with its abundance of holidays. Then I extended the idea to holiseason. (discovered later that this was a word anyhow. But, hey.) Holiseason by my reckoning runs from Samain on October 31st to the Feast of the Epiphany on January 6th. [A Kate aside here. She left Sunday School for good when one of her teachers, 4th or 5th grade, kept pronouncing the holiday epi-fanny.]

Holiseason contains multiple holidays, many of the holidays of light like Divali, Christmas, Hannukah. Thanksgiving. Posada. Advent. Kwanza. Winter Solstice. Gregorian New Year. Dia de los muertos. All Saints. And, of course, Samain. It’s my favorite time of the year. Lots to celebrate.

Reflecting on my radical career. One thing in particular. A long time ago, either 1975 or 1980, I attended a conference. Liberation Theology in the Americas. There were two and I can’t recall which one I attended. Cornel West. Harvey Cox. Lettie Russel. My roommate was a priest from Guatemala. Lots of impassioned speeches. Marxist analysis. Great meal conversations. Bus tours by a Detroit Socialist party that had made some political progress.

At the time I thought the conference was important for the clergy and theologians. Only later did I realize that the most radical moment came from a member of the Iroquois Confederacy, a medicine man in a 700 year lineage of medicine men.

At the end of the conference he performed a ritual typical of the Confederacy, planting a pine tree as a sign of peace. In the original rituals tomahawks and bows and arrows and knives would have been placed into the hole, covered in soil, the tree planted on top of them.

Afterward, and this part of the story I’ve told many times, he gave a long prayer. I listened carefully. You can read it below.*

When he finished, I went up to him and asked, “I noticed you didn’t mention the two-leggeds.” Oh, he said. Yes. The people are the most fragile of all. We need all the other spiritual forces healthy if we are to survive. So we pray for them. If they are well, so are we.

That was the radical moment at this most radical of all theological gatherings. I see it now. I carried on with work for economic justice: affordable housing, supporting unions, worker owned cooperative businesses like food co-ops and grocery stores and drug stores. Restaurants. Direct financial aid to the unemployed seeking work. Until.

Kate and I attended a Physicians for Social Responsibility conference in Iowa City. On climate change. This was in the mid-1990’s. A national conference they had now well-known figures in the climate change movement presenting. Each day we would go back to our hotel and express wonder that this science was not public. And, it wasn’t then. At least not enough for anyone to notice.

No habitable planet. No need for justice. I decided then that the remainder of my political work would be on climate change. And so it was. But, I could have made the same realization back in 1975 or 1980. Had I listened to the Iroquois medicine man.

Reimagining Faith: Tree of Peace

Spring Bee Hiving Moon

The essence of the Peacemaker legend follows as told by Mohawk chief Jake Swamp at the planting of a Tree of Peace in Philadelphia in 1986. “In the beginning, when our Creator made humans, everything needed to survive was provided. Our Creator asked only one thing: Never forget to appreciate the gifts of Mother Earth. Our people were instructed how to be grateful and how to survive. But during a dark age in our history 1000 years ago, humans no longer listened to the original instructions. Our Creator became sad, because there was so much crime, dishonesty, injustice and war. So Creator sent a Peacemaker with a message to be righteous and just, and make a good future for our children seven generations to come. He called all warring people together and told them as long as there was killing there would be no peace of mind. There must be a concerted effort by humans for peace to prevail. Through logic, reasoning and spiritual means, he inspired the warriors to bury their weapons and planted atop a sacred Tree of Peace”

It is said that the Tree of Peace given by the Peacemaker symbolizes the Great Law of Peace. The symbol is a great white pine, and it is said to shelter all nations who commit themselves to Peace. Beneath the tree are buried the weapons of war of the original five nations. Above the tree is an eagle that sees far. Also, four long roots stretch out in the four sacred directions, and they are called the white roots of peace. The Peacemaker invited any man or nation desiring to commit to the Great Law of Peace to trace the roots to their source, and take refuge beneath the Tree of Peace. The Peacemaker’s teachings stressed the power of reason to assure righteousness, justice and health. Faithkeeper Oren Lyons, an Onondaga, states that the Great Law of Peace includes freedom of speech, freedom of religion, and the right of women to participate in government.

The seed-idea underlying all Iroquois philosophy is that peace is the will of the Creator, and it is the ultimate spiritual goal and natural order of things. The prayer below comes from the people of the Iroquois Confederacy. The prayer is based on the tradition of interconnectedness that the Iroquois or Haudenosaunee possess. This prayer is said to be the backbone of the Iroquois culture. The prayer expresses the belief that rather than take the world for granted, it must be respected, and that we must thank all living things in order to align our minds with creation and the Creator. Usually, a faithkeeper is selected to share the prayer of thanksgiving at the opening and closing of social, government, and ceremonial events. The prayer is comprised of three levels:

Spiritual Forces on the Earth, Spiritual Forces in the Sky, Spiritual Forces beyond the Sky

The Spiritual Forces on the Earth are:
the People, our Mother Earth, the Waters, the Fish, the Grasses, the Plants,
our Sustenance, the Animals, the Trees, and the Birds.
Throughout the year we bring our minds together as one
We give thanks to one another
All year long she gives us all that we need

We give thanks to our Mother Earth
Everyday it quenches our thirst
We give thanks to the waters In winter it replenishes the lakes.
We give thanks to the waters

During the year they purify the lakes
We give thanks to the fish
When the wind turns warm a green blanket appears
We give thanks to the grasses
In early summer the flowers turn sweet
We give thanks to the medicinal plants
In early summer they help us survive
We give thanks to the food plants
In midsummer we dance for the green corn
We give thanks to our sustenance
In midsummer we dance for the red beans
We give thanks to our sustenance
During the winter their pelts warm the soul
We give thanks to the animal creatures
Since early times they have been our companions
We give thanks to the animal creatures
In early spring we are glad they reappear
We give thanks to the animal creatures
At one point in time it became a symbol of peace
We give thanks to the trees
At the end of spring the sap will flow
We give thanks to the trees
In early morning they carry messages
We give thanks to the birds
In times of danger he warns the people
We give thanks to the birds
In the summer they sing sweet songs

We give thanks to the birds Spiritual Forces in the Sky are:
the Four Winds, our Grandfather Thunder, our Elder Brother Sun, our Grandmother Moon, and the Stars
Throughout the seasons they refresh the air
We give thanks to the Four Winds
In early summer they bring the falling drops
We give thanks to our Grandfather Thunder
Every morning he brings light and warmth
We give thanks to our Elder Brother Sun
Every night she watches over the arrival of children
We give thanks to our Grandmother Moon
In the night their sparkle guides us home
We give thanks to the stars
The Highest Spiritual Forces beyond the Sky are: our Protectors, Handsome Lake, and the Creator
All the time they remind us how to live
We give thanks to our protectors
At one point in time he brought back the words of the Creator
We give thanks to Handsome Lake
Everyday we will share with one another all of these good things
We give thanks to the Creator.
– Prayer of Thanksgiving, Iroquois Confederacy

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Roger, Oh Roger

November 2, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the crescent of the Moon of the Thinned Veil

Tuesday gratefuls: Amy, at Mile High Hearing. The Roger. Loss. Kate, always Kate. And, her quilting. Jon. Ruth. Gabe. Mark. Rigel, her insistent, loud barking at 3 am. Kep, who slept through it. Julie and AARP Advantage plan #1 with premiums. Electronic signing. Marina Harris’s Furball Cleaning.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Astrology

Tarot: King of Pentacles, Druid Craft

Felt a little like I was on my way to the Principal’s office while driving into Mile High Hearing. It’s not often I face a relative stranger and have to acknowledge a failure. I could not keep Roger safe.

Amy was good about it. And, for reasons that make sense to me. I was out for a meal, the first fine dining moment since Kate died. At least here in Colorado. Using the Roger. And it helped me hear Alan over the very live restaurant. What she wanted. I want to open the world up for you.

She and I puzzled over how Gaetano’s could have lost it. I don’t know and at this point it seems moot. Roger is gone.

Amy will contact Eric, her rep for Phonak, and see if they can cut me some kind of deal. A much lower price on a new one. I hope she’s successful, because I’m ready to start ghost writing a book, Roger and Me.

Caspar David Friedrich
Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog (1818)

Fog covered 285 on the way down the hill. Dicy at any speed. Ice and fog are my two least favorite driving conditions.

Before that Julie got me into a new policy with better benefits. Amazing. We met and reviewed documents all over zoom and email. She sent me the documents to sign, which I did electronically. Much more efficient, carbon and time.

Julie also signed me up, in January, with Conifer Family Medicine which will open a satellite office in Evergreen in the new year. The Conifer practice has no opening for new patients. I don’t mind. Evergreen is my town and much closer than Littleton. I’m actually in an Evergreen precinct, CBE is in Evergreen, and most of my CBE friends live there or nearby. Conifer has no personal ties for me except my immediate neighborhood.

Got the art for my Hermit neon sign. I like it. Not cheap, but it will be a signature piece for the Shadow Mountain Hermitage. Gonna put it on the inside wall that can be seen through one of our front windows.

I go in to Morry’s Neon tomorrow. My only quibble was the red eyes. Too many movies where the vampires have red eyes. Glen and I will pick out a new color together.

Also got a Woolly Mammoth hoodie in the mail from Ode. Looks warm. Got here just as the weather has begun to cool down. Must be a Stefan/Mario collaboration. I plan to wear mine when I hit the speed bag. You know, Rocky. Woolly.

AWOL. That’s been me. From the news. I read headlines, rarely full stories. This has been a time of going inward, away from the world. Will continue for a while. The news draws me back, puts me in the maelstrom that is our era while I need time, quiet time.

Climate change. The Whigged out GOP. The Gump Trump. The Pandamndemic. Democrats shooting themselves in the foot. I know. All still underway. As for me, I will remodel my kitchen, hang some neon art in my living room, utilize my mini-splits, pet my dogs.

I am the King of Pentacles. In this world, peaking in my animus energy, staying steady, staying the course of grief’s long journey. Readying myself for, already in, the fourth phase of my life.

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The Land of the Living

October 26, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Moon of the Thinned Veil

Tuesday gratefuls: Induction range on its way. Goodbye dangerous polluter. Last mini-split installed. The Loft. Electrician today to finish up? Kep and Rigel. To whom I’m a companion human. Thanks, Jon! The Subaru leaving to help CPR. And, me. John Ruthenberg. Gonna plow me for $30. Pruning, still underway. That New York Strip last night. Boiled potatoes, salad from Jon’s garden. A bit of ice cream.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Mark in communication again

Tarot: The World, #21 of the Major Arcana, Druid Craft

David’s back he said in the land of the living. Looked a bit peaked still to me. Back in the land of the living hit me for the first time as an odd way to talk about recovery from illness. Made me wonder about its origins. Some diseases thin the veil for us, remind us of our 100% fatal disease. Life. And what of the time while we’re sick. Set apart, no longer normal. Dead to the life we know.

He works hard. Steady. Not a big guy. A bit taller than me, a thin frame. Very polite. Perhaps ex-military? Look forward to writing the check for this project’s completion. Coyote HVAC was a good choice.

Stiff Winds yesterday evening. Blew the leaves right off the Aspens on my property. A golden Rain, Snow. Gold skirts around the base of each Tree. Opened up the Sky over my bedroom window. Last night the Stars were clear and high, easy to see from my pillow. Winter is coming.

Orion has returned. An old and trusted friend. The Winter Sky is my favorite of the year. No Aurora’s here in Colorado. I miss those. I could stand on my front porch in Andover and watch curtains of green light oscillate across the Northern Sky. Orion and his faithful Dog, Canis Major, return each fall.

The Hermitage will be ready for the first snows of the season. Mini-splits installed. A new kitchen at least underway. The neon Hermit sign hung on the wall with care.

The season enters a new phase when the Aspen Leaves get blown off their Branches. The Groves become skeletal, ready to survive heavy wet Snows, carrying on conversations below Ground as the Air grows cold. We Humans add layers as Winter descends. Deciduous Trees do the opposite.

Winds hitting 24 mph whir the anemometer on my weather station. A few Aspen Leaves left to go, but not the bigger Trees.

This Sunday Samain kicks off Holiseason which runs until January 6th, the Feast Day of the Epiphany. I’ve created an offrenda for Kate up here in the loft. When it’s done, I’ll post a picture. It’s a family offrenda, too. Kate is the only one on the other side of the veil.

Rigel ate the ostrich feather duster yesterday. And, the day before she chewed the fur from the turtle rattle I bought for Kate. She’s an ornery girl sometimes.

Kep’s sorta my loft dog. Sometimes. When he feels like it. Right now he’s sleeping nearby.

Three things happening today: Astrology and Kabbalah class. Induction range delivered and installed with the old one hauled away. Hair cut with Jackie. Tomorrow just trash. Included by default: cardio today, full body workout tomorrow.

On Thursday I’m going to lead the Mussar group because Carol, who was going to lead, was in a wreck and is now in the hospital. Life.

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My Cauldron

October 4, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Fall and the waning crescent of the Michaelmas Moon

Monday gratefuls: Greg Lell, starts today staining the house. Susan, who will care for the dogs when I go to Minnesota, comes at 10:30. Marina Harris and her crew coming today to clean. RJ working on how much money I can spend. Coyote HVAC next Monday. Kate, always Kate. Those two Mule Deer Bucks. The beginning after the ending.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The World, #21 of the Major Arcana

Tarot: The World

Bubbling and churning. My life a cauldron, happily. Eye of house stain. Leg of house cleaning. Fingernail of dogsitter. Horn of Mule Deer Buck. Feather of mini-splits. Bits of redo and redesign of kitchen. A dash of Orgovyx. One major arcana. A pinch of the ayn sof. A sprinkle of Stars. A slice of Woolly Mammoth Tusk. Two measures of Aloha. Tears of grief. Stir with family and Congregation Beth Evergreen. Simmer for a season or two.

Not sure of much these days. Which suits me just fine. My path has companions worthy of Chaucer. A location worthy of poetry. A destination unknown.

My ancientrail, my life, has begun to reknit itself, reconstruct. The base of this reknitting? The love and life I had with Kate. Her smile, her laugh, her sharp insights, her deep knowledge and compassion. Her kindness. Not gone, here, right here in my soul. Her hand in mine until the end of time.

She found this house. She earned most of the money I receive monthly. She encouraged me to leave the ministry and take up writing. We were brave together. Adventurous. We loved each other and left imprints on each other’s souls.

Now I have to walk this ancientrail without her physical presence. I wish it were not so, but it is. As I put a few touches on the house, learn methods to access the occult, manage my cancer, exercise, spend time with friends, read, write, paint, I’m living forward, not looking backward.

Changing the house a bit will help me say, yes, this is my place, too. It will never be other than our place, but no ghosts allowed. Only good memories.

The whole Tarot, Kabbalah, Astrology, Judaism journey has me on a strange side road from that of the skeptic. Where it leads is to mystery, of that I’m sure. How it will affect my life? Unclear. Maybe a lot. Maybe only some. Tincture of time. (a favorite phrase of Kate’s)

When I came up for closing on this house, October 31, 2014, three Mule Deer Bucks greeted me in the back. We stood with each other for a long time, not moving, seeing each other. After they left, I knew the Mountain Spirits had welcomed Kate and me to their realm. Samain.

Yesterday, two more came.

They came on a day when Black Mountain was aflame.

I got up this morning and let Kep out and he chased one of the bucks who had stayed the night. The buck cleared the five foot fence as if it wasn’t there. Kep was pretty damned proud of himself. He never barked.

Back to that pot. Double, toil and trouble, cauldron burn, cauldron bubble.

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Winter is Coming

September 22, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Harvest Home and the Michaelmas Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Jon. Healing, in some ways. Ruth, in Spirit week at her high school. Having fun. Anxious. Gabe, with his first pimple, Nosy. That squash soup I made last year for Kate. Still good, fed us all. Jodi and kitchen ideas. Cold nights. Kep and Rigel beside me.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Autumnal Equinox

Tarot: Four of Bows, Wildwood

Monday night we had frost. Tricky. Moisture dripped from the garage eve onto the steps up to the loft. Had on my tennis shoes. Not yet winterized, my mind left out the part where that small amount of Water could freeze, become slippery. Especially on the sole of a tennis shoe. Grabbed the railing, steadied myself. Oh, shit. Went to the results of my recent DEXA scan, bone density. Hoping I have enough bone strength to fall and not break something important. Like any bone in my body.

That Worm. The one about handling this place in the Winter. Bit into the Apple of my paradise. This is something I have to face, deal with. Choose ways and means to keep myself safe and happy. Rigel, too.

Not a big deal. Yet. And there are options.

Our house in the early morning, light on Shadow Mountain

This is where I want to be. Kate’s last Home. Our Mountain Home. I’m willing to think this through, come up with solutions. One of which entails finding somebody to plow my driveway. Starting again on that one this morning.

Jodi came. She’s from Blue Mountain Kitchens. I want to inspire my cooking. Make the kitchen a place I want to be. Functional, yes. Beautiful, too. Rustic, fit the house, its location. We talked cabinetry, counter tops, backsplash, storage, prep. I liked her. She had some good ideas.

Next week Bear Creek Designs, who did our downstairs bathroom, putting in stone and tile, creating a zero entry threshold for the shower, comes out. I’ll see what they have to say. I like them, too.

Lucas Cranach the Elder, Living in Paradise

Money can answer many of the questions about that Worm. Protect the Apple. And, I have enough. Not more than enough, but enough, to tackle most of the issues.

Also needing to get strong bodies up here to move furniture. Table from downstairs to the old sewing room. Kate’s recliner up to the living room. Figure out what to do with the big wooden display cabinet and its glassware. The smaller one and its rocks, including the nice gneiss Tom sent me a while back.

As I often whisper to myself, I’m getting there. Slow and steady. The tortoise. Not the rabbit.

Jon, Ruth, and Gabe came up last night. Jon has to get Jen to sign the title to the Subaru so he can donate it CPR. This is happening. Very slowly, but it’s happening.

Today though is a holiday. Let’s not forget. Mabon. The Autumnal Equinox. The time of the Harvest Moon. The combine contractors are working their way through the Wheat Fields of the Great Plains. Corn pickers are out in Iowa, Indiana, Minnesota, Illinois. Soy bean harvest. Apples in the orchards.

Those gardens with Squash, last Tomatoes, Beans, Onions, Raspberries, wild Grapes. Wicker and wire gathering containers filled, carried into kitchens. The canning equipment taken down from its high shelves. Oh, what a time. Fresh vegetables and fruit, nuts.

Mabon is a late name for this harvest holiday: Feast of the Ingathering, Harvest Home, or simply Fall. Meteorologists say Fall when September 1st comes. Most of us still follow the old ways, though we may not think of them that way. Celebrating equinoxes and solstices, in their reversed forms in the Northern and Southern hemispheres, constituted a religious rite in many ancient cultures. Anywhere agriculture followed the seasons: Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter, the Sun and its relation to Earth’s orbit evoked awe and wonder.

No accident that CBE has a sukkah up, open to the sky. A prominent Harvest holiday on the Jewish calendar. And, I learned a year or so ago, once the primary holiday at this time of year, not the High Holidays. Bounty in the form of first Fruits, unblemished Animals came to the Temple in Jerusalem. Sacrifices to the most high god. Think I’ll head over there this evening. Pizza in the hut.

A week from today we celebrate Michaelmas. The traditional beginning of the academic year in England, the Michaelmas term. The feast day of the Archangel Michael. Tom and Roxann’s anniversary. And, as you’ve often heard me say here, the start of the Springtime of the Soul.

Guess I’ve had a Jewish sensibility all these years. This does feel like the beginning of a new year to me. I celebrate one at Samain and on January 1st as well. Multiple new years. Multiple opportunities to examine life. In fact, I think I’ll do a Fall Tarot spread to see what this wondrous season has in store for me.

Denver, Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Great Wheel, Health, Holidays, Judaism, Kabbalah, Mountains, Our Land and Home, Tarot, Weather +Climate

The Moon

August 8, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Moon of Chesed

Sunday gratefuls: New neighbors. Rigel, slow. Kep, eager. Workout yesterday, 20 minutes of cardio. Treadmill. Mac and Cheese. Vacuuming. Video on Akitas. Bad air. Shortness of breath, sleep.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Breath. Ruach.

Tarot: The Moon, #18 of the Major Arcana

We’re #1! Denver topped the world list of most polluted cities yesterday. Smoke. Bad. Today, also bad. A level of 172 on a scale where 300 marks the start of I can’t breathe! weather. Not a spot we cherish. Better in the Mountains, but not by a lot. Smells like a clothes closet full of worn bonfire apparel.

Not to mention pollen. High yesterday. Fun times in the Arapaho National Forest.

Makes sleeping a challenge for me. I wake up consistently in the early morning with clogged sinuses. I can unclog them with saltwater, but the effort tends to wake me up so far that I have trouble returning to sleep.

Got a glimpse of the new neighbors yesterday. They brought their mountain bikes. Then, left.

Went 20 minutes on the treadmill yesterday. My IT band and the knot over my hip have begun to loosen. Still tight, but better. I can see a return to my old exercise habits in the not too distant future. This has been a tougher recovery than I had imagined. Slow and painful.

Friday and yesterday were domestic days. Doing chores like vacuuming Kep’s hair, brushing him. Again. Still. Making Rigel flee as I came toward her with the brush. Put some more soil in the road divot after traffic pounded down the initial batch.

Attended a session on kosher rules and regs. Virtual. Rabbi Jamie. He’s kosher at home, not necessarily so out. Mordecai Kaplan suggested this. Kosher at home for Jewish tradition, flexible out so dining with others doesn’t stigmatize Judaism.

The kosher rules don’t appeal to me though the notion of conscientious eating does. Hard, though. I find my meat and potatoes Midwestern diet stubbornly persistent. Long ago I added a fruit and a vegetable at most meals, but cutting down on red meat? Not so much. And, I have the vascular disease to prove it.

Big day tomorrow. PSA time. Appointment with oncologist on the 16th. As I’ve written before, this is an important one. After that, I go for a hearing exam. Maybe new hearing aids? Also, house cleaning.

The next day Coyote HVAC comes out to give me a bid for mini-split air conditioning. As pollen and smoke interrupt my sleep, heat, too, this feels like a logical step. At least for the two downstairs rooms. Might get pricey for the rest.

Elul, which begins this evening, is the sixth month of the Jewish lunar calendar. The New Year, Rosh Hashanah, is the first day of the next month, Tishri. It gets two nights of celebration. On the tenth day of Tishri the high holidays end with Yom Kippur, the feast of atonement.

Nissan, the first month of the Jewish year, is in March-April, the beginning of Spring. But. The Jewish year number changes on Rosh Hashanah. Not sure why.

Elul is a month of preparation for repentance and atonement, the central theme of the High Holidays. Chesed, loving-kindess, matters when a period of self-examination like this comes. Especially for your own soul. Treat yourself honestly, but gently.

The Moon: A path runs from the sea, past a Dog and a Wolf howling, through two Stone Monoliths, and on beyond the rise. Perhaps to the Moon itself?

The Moon in a crescent phase shows itself between two curtains of Clouds and above the Monoliths. Mountains are visible in the background. The Coast goes on for some distance beyond the Monoliths and, to the left, a Crab crawls up on land, near the path but still partly in the water.

The overall effect is mysterious, lonely, and eerie. The howling adds to it.

With the Wolf and the Dog evolution has a prominent role, ancient ancestor and modern descendant showing how close they still are. The wild does not leave us. Consider fight or flight. Fear. Peripheral vision. Vasovagal response. Lust.

Both the Sea and the Moon can be metaphors for the subconscious or the unconscious. Perhaps life emerges from the unconscious, travels the path of evolution while retaining a rootedness in the past, then passes on through the gates of death back to a post consciousness existence.

Here’s what the Druid Craft creator says about this card:

Keywords: Psychic awakening. Dreams. Deep revelation of feminine mysteries. Facing Fears. Change. Imagination. Creative work.

“A difficult emotional journey ahead. Any loneliness or confusion you feel will pass as this phase reaches its natural conclusion.”

This feels like one with those cards of last week or so, ones suggesting a time of sadness, perhaps grief, will change in this next phase of my life. The August 18th celebration of Kate’s life will, I hope, mark a change. The retreat idea for the Michaelmas time sits gently in my mind as a time to integrate and incorporate that change into a new life.

May it be so.