Category Archives: Feelings

Hearing on the Side of Merit

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Monday gratefuls: Relationship building. Shadow. Learning curve for us both. Still steep. Shadow the hugger. Morning darkness. Staying longer. Artemis. Kate, always. Natalie. Ruth and Gabe. The duvet. Ruth’s skills. Gabe’s skills. Each Tomato Plant. Each Squash. Syntropy. Entropy. Science and the Ancient Brothers. Indiana Fever. Those Twins.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ruth’s sewing. Gabe’s bedmaking.

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei. Find the flow. Go with it.

Week Kavannah: Hearing on the side of merit

One brief shining: Ruth took on a difficult task, sewing patches by hand on my duvet where Shadow the render of cloth had worked to release many sneeze producing Goose Feathers; so good to see a woman sewing in the house again.

 

Ruth after sewing a heart on Gabe’s baboon.

Grandkids: Ruth and Gabe came up yesterday. I’d told them I needed help with some things. Patching the duvet was one. Shadow had torn it open in several spots a while ago and each time I used it more Goose Feathers would float up, up, up and away. Some tickling my nose. Achoo.

Ruth has the dexterity of her father and her grandmother. She sewed for two or three hours, also sneezing. When she finished, every hole had been patched. Some with sewing. Some with cloth tape. What a relief.

Gabe lifted my heavy (to me) foam mattress and put on new sheets and pillow cases. “These look like you, Grandpop,” he said of the blue Flower printed design. He also carried down a bag of dogfood for me. Also a relief.

We had pizza together. And talked.

We talk about books, about relationships, about grief, about school, about the future. We laugh and get teary. To have this sort of relationship with two I’ve known since infancy continues to be one of the jewels of my life.

They left around four.

 

Dog journal: The saga continues. Once again Shadow refused to come in to stay in the evening. Even though I’ve moved her second feeding to seven p.m. She came in to eat, but bolted again when I tried to touch her collar.

When I went outside, she came up and hugged me, as she likes to do, jumping up softly and putting her left front paw around my waist. After we did this several times, I picked her up and brought her inside. I don’t know, right now, any other way to keep her safe at night.

 

Mussar: Hearing on the side of merit. Judaism teaches judging others on the side of merit. Assuming good intent, thoughtfulness when encountering difficult interactions.

Rich Levine offered a twist on that: Hearing on the side of merit. As a lawyer and as a college professor, listening is a significant, major part of his work life. Hearing on the side of merit entails stopping, perhaps, when encountering a divisive or contrary idea, going to first principles and finding an area of agreement before answering or responding.

Easier to write about than do. Mussar suggests small, incremental changes in outer behavior, intentional changes that then reshape the inner self. Hearing on the side of merit is a good practice for this week.

Learn From It

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Sunday gratefuls: The Second Law. Entropy. Shadow and her wiggly, huggy ways. Happy Squash and Tomato Plants. Greenhouse in the Tomato zone. CBE Men’s group. Suffering. Jamie. Joe. Jim. Bill. Irv. Bailey and Babe, Bill’s Pugs. Floods. Wildfires. The Way of the Natural World.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shadow crosses the Threshold

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Hear on the side of merit.

One brief shining: Went out to Artemis to retrieve my watering can-which I use to fill Shadow’s water bowl-and went inside, feeling as I did the warmth of the heater Nathan hung over the door.

 

Artemis: My temperature sensor showed no more than 90 degrees during the heat of the day and no less that 61 degrees late yesterday evening and this morning. A bit outside Tomato temperature preferences of 85 to 65 degrees so I’ll have to adjust them. (OK. I admit I just checked. I remembered them incorrectly.)

The good news. Between the exhaust fan during the day and the heater at night I’ll be able to maintain optimum temperatures.

Nathan gave me six Tomato Plants, all doing well. He also gave me two Squash Plants which I planted in the outside raised beds yesterday. They are much happier in Soil. They needed to be outside because, well, they are Squash and throwing out Vines is their thing.

Artemis lives.

 

Dog journal: We’re inching toward leash acceptance. Shadow is less reactive, but she still won’t let me easily touch her collar, clip on the leash. Slowly, slowly.

Yesterday afternoon she was outside. I was about to leave for the CBE men’s group and wanted her inside. Calling to her from inside. She came in! The first time she had crossed the threshold when I called her. Slowly, slowly.

She’s sitting right in front of me watching me type, seeing if she can will me into feeding her early. With those eyes? Almost. But no. Dog’s prefer regular feeding times. I’ve been fussing with her second feeding, moving it later in the day so she may think anytime is the right time. That will fade.

She gave up and went to chewing on one of my old socks. She likes to throw them in the air.

 

CBE Men’s group: I led an evening on the theme of suffering. Based on a chapter from David Brook’s book: How To Know A Person. My aim was to take the conversation out of the head and into the lev, the heart/mind.

I opened with this Brooks observation that he cited as the subtext of the book. Experience, Brooks says, is not what happens to you; it’s what you do with what happens to you. This is a big idea.

It fits with suffering. Rabbi Jamie offered this Buddhist thought. Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional. I don’t agree. Yes, pain is inevitable. But. Grief is suffering. Anguish and despair during and after a divorce. Suffering. Rejecting suffering pushes away an opportunity to grow, to change.

The question I believe is what you do with your suffering. Do you let it overwhelm you, diminish you, or do you learn from it? Hear what it has to say. Allow yourself to change, become a new person in light of what you’ve learned?

Suffering teaches us; offers an opportunity for change. Neither fear it nor get stuck in it. Pay attention. Learn.

 

Learned Enough?

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Thursday gratefuls: Shadow. The leash. The last big hurdle. Tomato plants wilting in the heat, then restored by water. Rich. Susan. Tara. Marilyn. Joanne. MVP last night. The quarter Moon. The Elk Cow and her Calf crossing the road. Wild Neighbors. The second law of thermodynamics. Science. The Humanities. Colleges and universities. Learning is life. Loving is life.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Hearing on the side of merit

Week Kavannah: Wu Wei. Flow.

One brief shining: Shadow lies behind my chair, the yellow leash still attached, now in the third day of desensitization; when I take her outside for a walk, part of the process, she jumps up, paws on my chest, then her left one slipping around my waist in a clingy hug.

 

Dog journal: My empathy has often been close to exhaustion, not with Shadow, but because of her struggles. And mine. This relationship has not been easy. Climb one Mountain only to realize the next peak is higher and right next to the one just summited.

Natalie says the leash is the last big hurdle. God, I hope so. I’d like to settle in to a doggy rhythm with Shadow by my side. I know it’s going to happen. Not when.

 

Mental health: No doubt, dear reader, you caught the melancholy tones in my posts over the last six months. As so often happens for me, I only notice them much later than others.

The pain. Also exhausts my empathy, especially my empathy for myself. Avoidance comes to dominate movement. Move less. Hurt less. Though because, as Halle said, we’re meant to move, this tactic has self-defeat built in. Move less, hurt longer eventually more.

With those two drains on my empathy, Shadow’s struggles and the pain, I’ve had little left over to do what needs to be done. That is, manage all this in a healthy way.

Not to say life has been awful. No. But it has been stretched taut, leaving little room for dreams. Though.

The Greenhouse: Was a dream that is now a reality. I forgot, though Shadow should have more than alerted me to this, realizing dreams has its own cost.

This works. That doesn’t. The heat in the greenhouse, the point after all, reached 104 yesterday. I put a remote thermo sensor in it with a readout station in the house.

When I went out to check all of my Tomato Plants had shriveled, looked dead. I hit the manual button for the irrigation. It ran for twelve minutes and the Leaves filled back up. This means I will need a fan to help modulate the heat.

On the other end the temperature went into the low forties two nights ago. Tomatoes prefer night time temperatures in the sixties. Need that heater which I agreed Nathan could install later.

Learning and growth come when we move outside our comfort zones. Yeah. So I’ve heard. Well, I’ve spent plenty of time over the last six months way outside of my comfort zone. I must be learned enough by now.

It’s a Pain

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Wednesday gratefuls: Greenhouse. Tomato Plants. Plant labels. Garden twine. Morning darkness. Shadow and the leash. Her anxiety. Her comfort seeking. Death of a beloved. Seeds. Seed Keeper’s Exchange. Heirloom Seeds. The Bird of Morning. Who makes firm a person’s steps. Tanya. Carla. Kenya. Kathy. Leisa. The Steffey women. Harder physical therapy. The Fourth of July.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Patriotism

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei. Follow the chi.

Week Kavannah: Savlanut. Patience.

One brief shining: The yellow neoprene leash disappeared underneath the bed last night and has not yet reappeared this morning though I’ve been up since five and six lies only ten minutes away, meaning my Shadow’s anxiety has not abated overnight.

 

Dog journal: Oh, the not so subtle agony of Shadow and the leash. I got it on her again near the end of the day. When I clipped it on her collar, she froze, then burrowed in between my legs, looking up at me with a familiar doggy expression: “Help me, please.”

Desensitization. I imagine that’s what Natalie has in mind. A phobia treatment where graduated exposure lessens the fear associated with the phobic situation. Natalie loves animals, that’s clear in her demeanor and practice. Not sure whether Shadow’s reaction to the leash fits.

Might be I forced Shadow too much when putting on the leash. Didn’t seem so to me, but Shadow is a delicate, reactive, and smart Dog. She sees bad intentions where none are meant.

This Shadow journey has proved fraught for both of us. Worth it when she finally let herself give and receive affection. Yet the journey has more than one temporary off ramp. Just hit another one.

We will both need savlanut to find the path forward again.

 

The rest of it:

When I wrote this paragraph yesterday, I stopped too soon:

“Or, and I didn’t say this with her, an end to all of it. No, not suicide, not that. Rather successful pain relief in my hip and back. Wanting it. Needing it. Not sure I’ll get it.”

There are times, not often, but more often than I want or desire, when chronic pain crosses paths with a sad or bad mood for other reasons. Sometimes thoughts then go like this. Oh, to hell with eating well, a heart attack would be better than a slow death by cancer. Or. Why do I even go to p.t.? Why not sit, read, watch television, wait for it to be over. Or, I’ll be glad when this life finishes.

This is not active suicidal ideation. No. But it does have in it the seeds of those thoughts. Note this is not about cancer, rather it’s about the slow degradation of life’s quality by either constant pain or knowing that any movement will produce pain.

Pernicious. Unwanted. Undesirable. Yet they occur to me, these thoughts. They disappear when the pain eases. When I right myself with patience, acceptance, persistence and grit. Time with friends and family. Not always easy to do.

Experiencing Shadow and her travails. Yes. Can create this sort of toxic nexus. Why, I think, they’ve been more common since she came. Not because of her, but due to that axis of frustration and resignation.

 

Shadow and the Psyche

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Tuesday gratefuls: Shadow. Her leash and harness. Natalie. Maddie. Dark thoughts. Greenhouse. Greenhouse thermometer. Happy Tomato Plants. Garden tools. Organic fertilizer. Seed markers. Twine. Gathering the tools. Learning how to use Artemis, a living part of my property. Living with pain. Thinking of Tanya and her sisters: Cathy, Carla, Kenya.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Tomato Plants growing

Week Kavannah:  Wu Wei.  Seek the way.

One brief shining: Shadow had an hour of leash training, walked with me in the front, stressed at first, calmer later but when back inside and Natalie had gone home, she crawled up in my lap-which she has never done-and would not get down, the leash still attached to her collar as Natalie suggested.

 

Dog journal: The leash. Natalie, whose own dogs had gotten in a tussle, came back after a three week absence. After a lengthy session with little apparent progress we moved inside and she slipped the leash onto Shadow with ease.

We went out the front door, Shadow on her yellow leash with me , and Doc, Natalie’s Border Collie, on his purple one. Terra incognita to Shadow. Cars passing on Black Mountain Drive. New smells, new visits.

Shadow spent time wrapping me in the leash. Circling me until her little body and mine meshed together, Dog and human, with a yellow neoprene bond. This went on for a bit until she got more comfortable, walking, sniffing. Going on what Natalie calls a sniffary. A word from dog training circles.

Natalie wanted me to leave the leash on Shadow 24/7. While inside on her collar, while outside attached to her harness and to me. I agreed.

But. When Shadow slid under the bed for the night yellow neoprene following her, I remembered her first leash. Which she chewed up while under the bed. Oh.

I unclipped the leash. She came up on the bed to greet me this morning as usual. I’ll have to get the leash back on her over the course of the day. Not easy. Gonna have to communicate with Natalie.

 

Maddie, the palliative care nurse: She’s a sweetheart, enjoying the drive up here from her base in faraway Westminster. Not sure how she’ll like that drive come winter.

We talked medical. My recent MRI. My trip to Panorama Orthopedics. She suggested a seat cushion for the car. Will try that. She pressed me about other symptoms.

I admitted to weariness. Chronic pain. Handling medical and domestic logistics. Cancer always hanging there, sometimes foreground, usually background but never gone. Wanting simpler, easier.

Or, and I didn’t say this with her, an end to all of it. No, not suicide, not that. Rather successful pain relief in my hip and back. Wanting it. Needing it. Not sure I’ll get it.

“I guess I’m feeling down, Maddie.” We discussed what to do. Up my sertraline dose? Counseling? Agreed to talk to Susan. Who prescribed a new anti-depressant. I don’t recall its name. We’ll see. A trial until I see Susan again on August 6th.

A Family Tragedy

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Monday gratefuls: Keaton Cousins. Tanya. Kenya. Carla. Lisa. Cathy. Diane. Richard. Kristen. Ikie. Melinda. Annette. Sibs. Mary and Mark. Joe and Seoah. Ruth and Gabe. Shadow. Fire. Water. Earth. Air. The Greenhouse. Tomatoes. Squash. Planting today. Seeds. Beets. Radish. Lettuce. Kale. Chard. Salmon for fertilizer for the Tomatoes.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Tiny irrigation system

Week Kavannah: Wu Wei. Work with the chi.

One brief: She was my age, Tanya, one of the five Steffey girls who lived in Arlington when I was young, slender and delicate, pretty in a country girl way, married to David, a farmer, and she died two nights ago trapped in the garage during a house fire.

 

Family: Got an email from Diane yesterday with the news that Tanya, a first cousin also born in 1947 like me, had not escaped a house fire in her home in Rush County, Indiana.

We are close, we Keaton cousins. My mom convinced my dad to move back to Indiana from Oklahoma so she could be closer to her family, the Keaton side.

While I’ve not seen most of them in a while, except for Diane, all those Thanksgivings, summer family reunions, overnight visits, we knew each other well. And care about each other.

We lost Lisa, the youngest Steffey, a while back to a stroke. Ikie to complications from a spinal problem and Annette to the end of a tough life. Now Tanya in a house fire. A large extended family withering away, one by one, as the seasons come and go.

Sadness, loss, disbelief. Faraway from the Rockies, yet so close in my memory. My heart.

Since moving to the Mountains, I’ve not made it home much. The last time September of 2015, my 50th high school class reunion. Not long after my prostatectomy. Don’t remember if I saw Tanya on that trip or not. Mary saw her this summer while visiting.

I’ll miss her.

 

The Greenhouse: Planted the Tomato Plants yesterday. In the Greenhouse because they like/need heat. Had a large Salmon fillet I had cut into portions and frozen too long ago. Unthawed them and put Salmon beneath each Tomato Plant.

Nathan came later in the day and topped off the outside raised beds with compost, installed a nifty irrigation system, picked up his trash. We shook hands, wished each other well.

He’ll be back because he has to install the black mesh fencing to keep out the Deer and Elk, the heater for the winter, and Cedar lap boards to seal the bottom of the greenhouse. I enjoyed working with him, getting to know him.

This morning I plan to Plant seeds in the outside raised beds. More salad fixings. Radish. Beets. Lettuce. Arugula. Kale. Chard. Nasturtiums. A few Marigolds for companion planting.

The Greenhouse has come to life.

 

Dog journal: My Shadow spent her fifth night in a row outside. Protecting us from marauding Mule Deer who would eat our Grass during the night. She protected us all. Damn. Night.

 

 

Dance to the Music

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Wednesday gratefuls: Mice. Rat Zappers. Shadow, the sleepy head. Monsoon Rain. The Greenhouse. Nathan. Chioggia. Lolla Rosso. Swiss and Rainbow Chard. Less back and leg pain. Motion is lotion. Halle. Plants. Oxygen. Carbon Dioxide. Mycelium. Fungi. Insects. Birds.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shadow

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

One brief shining: The greenhouse nears completion, Shadow slept alongside me, back and leg pain has lessened, an orthopedist will look at my torn labrum tomorrow, and my last PSA remained stable: this is about as good as news gets at 78.

 

Yep, sorry to show a ray of Great Sol shine from the tippy-top of Shadow Mountain, but it feels warranted. Shadow and I have moved further in our relationship. Nathan will finish the greenhouse either today or tomorrow. Turnkey. Filled with soil. Watering system installed. Heater for the Winter, too. Getting up every hour has led to less pain, more agency around the house. I see an orthopedist tomorrow to decide what to do with my hip. And my PSA remains stable. This could be on old guy Country Western song run backwards.

Not winner, winner chicken dinner. Not at all. But geez. So much better than a month ago, or six months ago. Gotta dance to the music when you can.

Yes, my mobility still sucks and the pain has lessened, not gone. Yes, the greenhouse is almost a month late into the growing season. I have no idea what the orthopod will say.

My PSA might rise at the next blood draw. But not today, not in this June 25th, 2025 life of mine.

Today I plan to celebrate a life lived as fully as I can muster. Dig into reading the next chapter of The Violent Take It By Force, work on my new painting, read some more Harry Dresden, pick up a quesadilla at Taco Yazi after my physical therapy. Play with Shadow. Watch some TV.

It was a hard Winter, and cold. I didn’t see it until the fog began to lift a couple of weeks ago.

I watched too much TV. Experienced a lot of pain too often. Went through the motions of a life.  Discouraged by Shadow’s reluctance to warm up to me. Hampered by chronic pain. Worried about cancer’s role in my back pain.

I hunkered down, pulled my head in. Not a bad thing to do when confronted with difficulty, no, not at all. Self-protection is important. But I got stuck there. Glad my stubborn tendency to keep moving, legs churning, head down carried me past that time. Of course, yes, my friends. My family. CBE. Amy, then Natalie. Shadow. I had help. I did. And I accepted it. (Pats self on back.)

 

Just a moment: Trump’s having a moment. Did he just bring peace to the Middle East? A headline in the Washington Post. NATO agrees to raise spending. The Senate has his big beautiful bill. Don’t get distracted. He’s still a wannabe monarch seeking a golden throne, and the whole world as fawning sycophants.

 

Embarrassed to Admit

Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

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

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Cool Mountain Breeze

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

“I’m Getting Fat!”

Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Radical Roots of Religion. Shadow. Her voice. Her presence. Natalie. Her injured Dogs. Nathan. The Greenhouse. Halle. Her grandfather. Judith. All Jews. Anti-Semites. Cousin Donald. Back and leg pain. Cancer results. Beltane. Summer. Lughnasa. The Shema. Being comfortable with who I am and what I have.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Halle

Week Kavannah: Gratitude. Hakarot Hatov. (recognizing the good)    “Who is rich? Those who rejoice in their own portion.” Perkei Avot: 4:1

One brief shining: Nathan constructs the Greenhouse with care, offering to design a Japanese style door, working with only a few tools and a small stepladder, headphones on listening to podcasts about science, his focus intense.

 

An example

The Greenhouse: The frame of the Greenhouse went up yesterday. A skeleton in four by fours and two by fours, all wood burned in the way of shou sugi ban. When construction finishes Nathan will coat all of the shou sugi ban wood with clear lacquer.

Made a seed order on Sunday with Seed Saver’s Exchange, my first in a decade. Fun to go through the online catalogue, looking for the varieties chatgpt recommended for 8800 feet. I didn’t have an AI companion the last time I gardened.

Nathan says he will do all the labor with the soil for free to make up for the delay in construction. He will also give me some Tomato transplants. He’s a good guy, wanting to do right by me. Even though it was FedEx that delayed the shipping on the plastic foundation pavers. Sound business on his part.

Found Zuni Signs on Monday. Evergreen. Will have them make my Artemis sign once the Greenhouse is complete. A link between Andover and Kate.

While talking to Nathan yesterday, I heard, “Charlie!” My neighbor, Jude. Recently retired from his welding business. “I’m getting fat.” Oh, yes indeed. His white t-shirt ballooned out with a substantial gut. “I have a bicycle. I look at it every once a while.” He laughs.

He asked me if I was building something. I said no he is, pointing to Nathan. “Are you paying for it, Charlie.” Yes. “Well, then you’re building it.”

 

Rigel and a bull Elk in our back a day before my first radiation treatment.

Wild Neighbors: Had several Elk come by  yesterday in the utility easement. Though they didn’t come in the yard, a large Mule Deer Doe did later in the day. My Dandelion crop attracts ungulates. They come for the Dandelions and stay for the Grass.

In 2019, on June 6th, I started my thirty-five sessions of ineffective radiation. On that day, before I left for Lone Tree, three Elk Bucks jumped the fence and dined for a day and a half on Dandelions and Grass. They came back every year until last year. The Does I saw earlier were the first Elk I’d seen up here for a couple of years. I see them often in Evergreen.

(BTW: Just now Shadow tried to herd the Mule Deer Doe. The Doe looked at her, did not move. I called Shadow and she came. Mule Deer and especially Elk can kill a Dog.)

In the Garden Andover

Kate: I stopped by Kate’s Valley to see if her Creek had Water. Very pleased to see it running full. Early last fall it had gone dry. Made me sad.

 

A Splendid Beltane So Far

Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Alan. Diane. Tom. Paul. Jamie. Luke and Leo. Tara. Halle. Natalie. Shadow, my Shadow. Kate, always Kate. Morning darkness. Great Sol and the Dawn. Mother Earth. Beltane, the growing season underway. My uprooted Lodgepole. Still leaning. Morrison Inn. Bear Creek Canyon. Kittredge. Evergreen. Conifer.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shadow

Week Kavannah: Gratitude. Hakarot Hatov. (recognizing the good)    “Who is rich? Those who rejoice in their own portion.” Perkei Avot: 4:1

One brief shining: Parking becoming expensive in  our little Mountain towns like Morrison and Evergreen, even street parking now five dollars an hour in Evergreen, two fifty in Morrison, fine for the Denver touristas, I suppose, but pricey for those of us for whom these quaint places are where we shop and dine during the week.

 

Dog journal: Once again I woke up and Shadow had curled up next to me sometime in the night. We’re moving at a quicker pace now, Shadow and me. Still matters to resolve, but so much more positive. Thanks, Natalie

 

Oh: My back and leg pain seems to have calmed down to some extent. Could have been, in part, stress about the cancer/pain nexus. Not sure. Driving still exacerbates my left side sciatica. So much so that even short drives now wear me out.

Hope the SPRINT device can knock that one out. As with Shadow, better, but not there yet.

 

Cancer: Feeling as light about this as I have in a year. Last year, when Kristie transferred my care to Dr. Bupathi, she also set me up with a radiology oncologist, Dr. Lincoln. When seeing him, he said I was hormone resistant. That’s the downhill slope of Stage 4 prostate cancer.

I left that visit shaken, since he said any radiation he would do would have no real purpose.

Then, Kristie told me that she didn’t diagnose hormone resistance unless the PSA went up on two drugs, not just one. The visit in which I would learn my PSA while on both Erleada and Orgovyx, Bupathi’s lab screwed up and didn’t have a result. Sent me down a rabbit hole of uncertainty. Took a while to get back to level.

Then, Bupathi wanted the MRI of my hip and the new PET scan. Put me right back down the rabbit hole.

Now though, with those imaging tests behind me and with positive results I feel like I’m in as good a place as I can be. A long bout of uncertainty which coincided with the Shadow experience, also stressful for me.

Add in back and leg pain. First six months of 2025 not joyful. The SPRINT device, if it works, will relieve the primary focus of my days: chronic pain.

Shadow has begun to soften, to let go of her trauma induced fears. Soon, maybe as soon as today, we’ll have her on a leash.

Cancer. Back and leg pain. Shadow. All in or moving toward marked improvement. All in the same week. Odd. But appreciated. I’m recognizing the good here.

Nathan laid in the greenhouse foundation yesterday and starts construction of the frame today. June’s shaping up to be a good month all round.

Oh, and my two classes. New story class finished last week. Radical Roots of Religion finishes tomorrow.

What will l do with the new energy? Paint. Write. Hike a bit. Read more. Reconsider travel to Korea if the SPRINT device works.