Category Archives: Cooking

A twofer

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Ancient brothers. Bright, Sun shiny Day. Black Mountain. Enduring. Wildfire. Drought. Kin. Of all kinds, furry and other. Cooking. Kitchen(s). Beds. Chairs. Computers. Televisions. Wires. The internet. Newspapers, online and papery/inky. Reporters. Politics. Climate. Its changes.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Cooking.

Tarot: Sunday-The Queen of Stones. Bear.  Wildwood Tarot Monday-The Sun of Life, #19 of the major arcana

 

Oh, boy. A little bleary eyed at 8:30 am. Slept in till 7:30. Made a chicken stew(soup). A Joan Nathan recipe. A Jewish Julia Childs. I made brisket as well for our traditional Hanukkah dinner tonight. Instant Pot. Moist and tender.

Had an interesting experience while I was cooking. A sense of well-being and rightness rose up. I love this! Cooking. It made me so glad that I’d persevered with the kitchen remodel. I feel alive in the kitchen in the same way I do when I write. Paint. With the occasional call from the mitzvah committee at CBE, Jon and the kids I have real people to cook for too. Including me. Maybe I’ll work on a cooking for yourself cookbook.

YEP. Forgodda about it. So, this is now the post for Sunday and Monday.

Saturday evening cooking put me down. For the night plus a bit. Has me thinking about finding those cushiony mats for the stove and prep area. It’s the standing. Combine low to no testosterone and sarcopenia. Result: Legs not as strong as the gardening days. Or, the more recent fire mitigation days. Even so you’ll note I’ve found a happy place. The kitchen.

The Ancient Brothers (our new name, probably the one we’re sticking with) zoomed. Paul joined on the road from Burlington to Robbitson, Maine. Topic: post-pandemic life. Positives from the pandemic. I’ll share the article and some of our thoughts later this week.

Lunch with Tara, who has moved on from her position as director of the religious school at CBE. Sushi! Tara and Marilyn, both last name Saltzman, not related, Kate and I met our first ever evening at CBE over six years ago. Both of them are good friends today. I celebrated her work for the synagogue and our friendship.

Jon discovered what he believes are hookworms in his feet. So. No Hanukkah yesterday for the kids. Maybe tonight, or we might do it on Saturday. My brisket and the chicken stew with matzo balls rest in the frig until they come. I had a bit of the brisket last night. Moist and tasty. The chicken stew has a second lap to its cooking and I won’t do that until I know they’re coming for sure. Part of it is making the matzo balls. Needed the rest yesterday, too, so I’m not unhappy with waiting. Still worn out from Saturday evening.

Need to go down for breakfast and break Kep and Rigel out of the house. It’s housecleaning day. I so look forward to the day when the house has been reorganized, the kitchen remodeled. I have boxes and piles everywhere on the main level. Getting ready for emptying the kitchen when I get a firm date from Jodi.

Bought a Roomba. Kep. It will keep the main level and my floor downstairs clear of dog hair. Shoulda bought this years ago. Happy Hanukkah, me!

 

Family

Samain and  the Holiseason Moon

Ruth arranging Hanukkah presents

Sunday gratefuls: Ruth and her sadness. Gabe and his joy. Jon and his struggles. A family meal. Chocolate chip cookies and chex mix. Holidays. Holiseason. Cold weather. Drought. Wildfire. Kate and Mike. Max. Paul and Sarah. Tom and Roxann. Death. Life. Friendship and family. Politics. And its heart knives. Weariness. The race has been long.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Hanukkah gifts from the Aunts

Tarot: The knight of stones, wildwood tarot

 

The Aurora Olsons

When I woke up from my nap, Jon, Ruth, and Gabe were already here. They came in quietly knowing my napping habit, bless their little hearts. Around 3 pm. Long nap.

Gabe, who is blossoming, took a box I had set aside, one of many for the kitchen remodel emptying of cabinets, and cut arm holes and eye holes in it, wearing it over his head and upper body. I’m a box troll. Good energy for the day. For the Hermitage.

Jon got tired out by the end of the week, but felt good about it. Next week he’s off for a week, then starts up for two weeks, then Christmas two weeks off. A gentle return. I take him on December 7th for a colonoscopy/endoscopy. He’s never had a solid answer as to why his heath declined so fast. I went from a strong middle aged man to an old man over the course of a year.

He limps from some muscle weakness in his left leg, unexplained. His hip feels out of joint. But. He seems to have the Addison’s (adrenal insufficiency), thyroid insufficiency, and his type 1 diabetes under much better control. In particular he admits he’d let his blood sugar run high since the divorce. Five years ago. Now he’s trying to go back to his usual running lean.

Like many others during Covid Jon got off his exercise routines, too. Pretty important for maintaining muscle strength, cardio fitness. He feels in a bad enough place physically that he’s not planning on skiing this year.

Ruth made biscuits and chocolate chip cookies while I made chili. Discovered a flaw in the induction ready pots and pans I purchased as a set. The skillet is too small and so is the dutch oven, at least for the kind of cooking I do when I’m making a larger meal. Back to Williams-Sonoma this morning.

The Paula Deen chili recipe I chose filled the whole skillet and I initially had to leave out a can of black beans. Overflow. Felt like I was cooking in a very cramped space. Good part? Induction stove tops are easy to clean. Still learning, but getting there.

We ate late. For me. Early by the Aurora Olson’s standard which it seems is a more Latin American 9 pm.

Far from gone

Still suffering news aversion. On NPR I heard the Rittenhouse verdict. Pounded my steering wheel. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Then I turned off the radio. Feels like the world may be slipping out from beneath me. If it does, where will I be?

On the other hand that new life, the one I’ve written about, wondered about. Seems it will have cooking, family, friends in a central spot. One ring in a three ring circus. A second ring. Work, my life alone.  Third. Something more communal, perhaps political, perhaps religious, perhaps occult. Maybe all three?

The fourth phase. Spirituality. Relationships. Action. Creativity.

Tired. Lost sleep last night. First time in years I had a small stitch in my colon, a sure sign of anxiety for me. I’ve remained calm, mostly, even through the strains of the last year. Oddly, I think it may be getting back to a more normal day-to-day that has caused my anxiety. I’m not fending off or encountering huge stressors. I have time to think about my relationships with Jon, Ruth, Gabe. With Mary and Mark. With the Journeymen (aka Ancientones). CBE. I may slip out of the moment and into tomorrow, or the next day. Result? A frisson of tension. A soupcon of angst. Working on it.

 

 

 

 

 

Intense, Dude

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Cincinnati Chili. Cooking. Learning how to again, on induction. Mini-splits at work. Experimental month with the hot water heat all off. Kate. Missing her sweetness. Holiseason well underway. Exercise finally back all the way. Core exercises. Diaphragmatic breathing. Kabbalah. Tarot. The Eel. Alan.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Seeing Jon, Ruth, Gabe today

Tarot: The Knight of Vessels, the Eel.  Wildwood Tarot

 

Parkside in Evergreen for breakfast with Alan yesterday. Took my new Roger with me. Had Alan clip it to his clothing. At least if I forgot Roger he would go home with somebody I know. Alan’s having cataract surgery in December. He drove me to mine last October. Seeing a friend in person, two actually, since Rebecca Martin was there, too, is so important.

I told Alan about my Hermit neon sign that is underway. We got a good laugh out of the Master Benders. He wanted to know why. Because I see myself a hermit now, I said. We can fix that, he said. No, thanks, but I appreciate the thought. Maybe I should have gone with the Fool. The beginner’s mind. Setting off on the journeymen’s pilgrimage. Each morning. Maybe that will be one for the loft next year.

Honey baked ham. Drove over to their shop in Littleton, near Tony’s. Lots of hams in the coolers. Just one of hundreds of these shops. Had an instant vision of all the Pigs. A moment of sadness. Bought half-a-ham. Sealed in gold foil. Sitting in the frig.

Put in a pick-up order with Safeway. All the ingredients for chili. Now including chili powder for the first time in three years. I love Cincinnati chili. Chili on spaghetti with sour cream, shredded cheddar, and sliced green onions. And, of course, oyster crackers.

Bought some fancy spaghetti at Tony’s for the chili. Also some salted caramel tiny beignets for dessert.

Back home for a nap. Then, workout. I have, at last, gotten back to my old intensity. Been going at reduced speed and intensity since late June when I pounded my IT band into high tension on the sidewalks of Hickam Air Force Base.

Probably a bit more than the old intensity. Two HIIT sessions with lower body resistance and core. Two cardio sessions with upper body and core. Over 5 hours a week now and I can tell the difference. My stamina’s better as is my breathing.

Here’s the conundrum though. I know I need this level of exercise to keep myself healthy, or as healthy as I can be. But that means it has to be routine.

I plan to reduce my week total to four days since I can get all the exercise I need in that time. I’ve had trouble when going for five days a week since I’ve kept the weekends exercise free. With exercise five days a week and writing Ancientrails I use up my mornings.

After I workout, I go downstairs, eat lunch, have a nap. Often I don’t feel like doing anything after the nap. Easy, you might say, stop napping. Yeah. Except. Started napping in 1989. Continuous then to now. That’s what, 32 years? Pretty much a habit.

That’s why four days. The HIIT makes getting my exercise quotient in quick. Wednesdays I plan as my off days. Then, I’ll be able to get phone calls, errands run on Wednesday, necessary work for the admin side of life. When I use up my mornings, and feel done in the afternoons it is not so easy to handle that stuff.

Brother Mark asked in an e-mail this morning if I’d gotten back to my Latin. No. I haven’t. But I appreciated the nudge. I want to get back to Ovid, to Latin, to the writing that flows from it. Painting, too. Slowly, slowly. Taking life at a pace that works. Wu wei.

Well. Just drove over to Evergreen, to CBE. Was going to attend a Torah study session with Rabbi Jamie. I love studying scripture. It’s fun. And, sometimes insightful. However. I need to learn close reading. Of the invitation to the Word and Deed time. Which clearly said, when I brought it up on my phone in the empty CBE parking lot: Zoom only. Sigh.

Back in the car. Over to Safeway to get chili makings. Pickup. Back home now. A day of work inside the house. Moving this and that. Starting to clear out the kitchen for the remodel. Making chex mix, chili.

 

The Knight of Vessels: The Eel

©willworthingtonart

Promoting harmony. Welcoming. Coming Together.

Perhaps a key part of the Hermitage will be welcoming, coming together, even hosting. My idea of cooking family dinners at 5 pm every Saturday, y’all come, feels good. Today will be the first and already Ruth wants to come early to make cookies. Yes!

The eel, according to Caitlin Matthews, see below* for more information, is a protector. One who could, in Celtic myth, be transformed into a sword.

As a protective animal in the suit of the emotions, vessels, and living in the water way, the knight of vessels is welcome in my home as family comes. Help us realize love and unity as we gather, eat.

 

 

 

*Eels have the most mysterious life cycle and make the longest journey of any of the court card beasts. Spawned in the Sargasso Sea near the Bahamas, the young, transparent elvers make their way across the North Atlantic to European river-mouths. Making their way between water-courses, they often wriggle overland to find another waterway. When they are mature as silver eels, they return to the Sargasso Sea to spawn.  The birch tree was one of the first native British trees to emerge from the ice after glaciation.

Caitlin Matthews, Wildwood Blog

 

 

 

 

Energy

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Shirley Waste. Orion and his dog. The Zodiac. Our star canopy. The unimaginable size of the universe. Our unimaginable place in it. Life. The animator. Total mystery. Darkness. The holidays of Light. And that wonderful one for the Night. Thanksgiving. Jon. Ruth. Gabe.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Hermit. Sannyasa.

Tarot: The Lord, #4 of the Major Arcana

 

Solar installation, 2016

As I write, the upstairs mini-split’s fan has a gentle sound, pushing out heat, using my solar panels for juice. Well, sorta. They’re on, pushing electrons into the grid, and turning my meter backwards. I love that. But the electricity powering the mini-split comes from the grid. If I understand it right. It’s a trade. And during the day the trade is in my favor. At night. IREA’s.

David, who turned on my system yesterday and walked me through how to use it, told me something interesting. “In seven years or so, we’re anticipating no gas appliances in Denver.” He called that a shitshow. Because of the scramble to install mini-splits or other electrical modalities. But, also. What a business opportunity.

I now have mini-splits, an induction stove, and solar panels. Already have 220 in the garage. Might start looking for an electric vehicle. I can’t afford a Tesla, so something else.

boiler

My boiler should run a lot less. Water heater, primarily. Colorado Gas is not cheap. We’ll see how the two play against each other. I’m willing to eat some difference if the mini-splits prove more costly.

Not gonna solve the climate crisis. No. But makes me feel better.

Torah and the Stars yesterday. The houses in a natal chart. These are arenas of our lives for action. My sun, Aquarius, is in the eleventh house, as well as Mars. In the eleventh house lie “Ideals and aspirations for humanity as a whole. Friends of like mind bound together for a common cause. Movements, humanitarian concerns, group associations. Activities on the cutting edge of change. Colleagues and associates. Progressive ideas, hopes, altruistic acts.”

Since Aquarius rules the eleventh house, as well as the planets Saturn and Uranus, I get triple Aquarian energy here. Sun, ruler of the house, and ruled by Uranus.

With Mars in the same house I found my work life adequately explained. I will fight for progressive ideas. Mars. And, I will do it with folks I know well. Have done. That part of my life feels over now.

Now my ideals and aspirations for humanity have a more inward focus.  This blog. Work with kabbalah, astrology, tarot. Read. Write. Paint. Stay in the hermitage. Visit family and friends.

Forgot Kep’s cytopoint (allergies) shot yesterday when David came. Gonna go into VRCC tomorrow, transfer this to Sano. I’ve had some doubts about Sano, but they know Kep and Rigel. Probably stick with them. The VRCC is in Lakewood, quite a hike. I prefer the vets there, and for diagnosis and treatment recommendations, I’ll still lean on them. For shots and general physicals, Sano. Which is only 10 minutes away.

Iron Roots play at amphitheater soft open last Saturday

MVP tonight. Marilyn and I will carpool again. I meet her at the parking lot for Flying J Ranch, a Jeffco County Park.

A good point to say that Kep, Rigel, and I have decided to stay on Daylight time. I get up at 5:15 am MST and go to bed at 8 PM MST. Satisfies my crankiness about time changes and keeps the dogs’ schedule steady. It does mean that meetings like MVP, night meetings, will be more challenging for me.

Otherwise I abide by the chronoconsensus.

 

Pandamndemic

Fall and the Moon of the Thinned Veil

Thursday gratefuls: Pruning. Proceeding. Pantry in use now. Picked a sink. Induction range and cookware. First heat. Friday. Kitchen remodel getting legs. Cold nights. Pandamndemic. Prostate cancer. HIIT. Good workout yesterday. Giving stuff away. Pots and pans. The stove. Money.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Sun, another day

Tarot:       The High Priest, #5 of the major arcana, Druid Craft

 

Goya’s, Self-Portrait with Dr. Arrieta. Mpls Museum of Art

Pandamndemic. Creeping horror coming to your state the week of Halloween. Delta variant dawning. And twilighting. And causing pressure on health care, body counts, hope for a mask free end of the year. I find my own resistance to the masks, to caution challenged.

I just wanna be free! Damn it. Me and roughly however many billion of us have been dealing with this damned thing for well over a year and a half. Feels like this gray pall draped over every encounter outside of home. The hearing issues with it make me want even more time alone.

Then there’s the Build Back Better plan. How’s that going? I’m for putting McConnel and Manchin in a chain link box. Let a 3 round MMA bout settle which one’s the bigger impediment to a decent future. Winner gets a free disruption of the people’s business, no explanation required.

What? They already have that? Are doing that? Oh, I see. Well then. Let’s put them in a chain link box and tether them, Andromeda style, to a condo sitting on Miami’s disappearing beach front. Now wait. That could encourage climate action. Couldn’t it?

Between Covid and the Congress, between Covid and the weak-kneed White House, I find life outside the wonderful world here atop Shadow Mountain often dismal, rarely joyful. And. I. Don’t. Like. It.

Yeah. So what, you say. Suck it up buttercup. Nope. Not gonna do that. And, I wanted to have my minute. There it’s over. Back to business as masked.

Leading mussar today since Carole had a wreck. In hospital with a cracked sternum. Ouch. Meals for her for a couple of weeks. Glad. I get to return the favor.

Topic in mussar today. Judgement. Of others. The Perkei Avot says Jewish tradition instructs us that when we judge another person, we are to put their misdeeds on one side of a scale and their virtues on the other side of the scale. If the scales are balanced, then we should tip them towards merit.

And, ourselves. “The Talmud says that we should always judge other people favorably. We must also judge ourselves favorably”. (R. Nachman of Breslav)

Odd that in Christianity, which says judge not, the tendency is to judge harshly, while in Judaism, which sees judging others and ourselves as both inevitable and necessary, the remonstrance is to judge others favorably.

Reb Nachman puts another flaw in the ointment. We must also judge ourselves favorably. Whoa. That’s a hard one, eh?

I’m guilty of judging others harshly, of weighing what I perceive to be misdeeds or character flaws as tainting the whole person. I suppose you could call this cancel culture. Make one misstep and you not only get judged, you get ostracized from polite society.

“Machrio L’Chaf Zechut translates as “influencing others to virtue,” or “judging others favorably.” Machrio comes from the root chaf-reish-ayin and means “to bend.” L’chaf zechut means “to a scale of merit.” This is the middot associated with judgement.  Reform Judaism

This one goes on my spiritual curriculum. A spiritual curriculum according to mussar has on its syllabus character traits where we often fall short and those that we have, but need to reinforce.

This sort of work is actually High Priest work. “Tradition and guidance. Formal knowledge, education and academic establishments. A need to conform to orthodox ideas and conventional approaches. The significance of a teacher or mentor.” The message: “There is a value in discipline and routine to maintain the connection between your worldly and spiritual life.”  Druid Craft Book.

A Mentor, a teacher

Fall and the Moon of the Thinned Veil

Rabbi Jamie and congregant

Friday gratefuls: Mussar. Rabbi Jamie. Luke. Mario. Tom. Paul. Bill. Mark and Mary. Diane. Second Fall. Jodie. Blue Mountain Kitchens. Joseph, 40 on Sunday. Seoah and Murdoch. Making things beautiful. Pruning, slow but steady. Kate, always Kate.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: My boy turning 40

Tarot: The Wheel, #10 in the Major Arcana

 

Good exercise yesterday. Cardio. Not yet on the HIIT, gonna plan it a bit more. Had more than half of the time near heart rate max. What I need more of.

Got a call from Isaac, Coyote HVAC coordinator. David is still sick. Start up again on Monday, hopefully give him the weekend to recover. This is the nicest, kindest contractor with whom I’ve ever worked. The owner said he believed it was good business. Me, too.

For a long time I’ve wondered about mentors and teachers. Everybody I know seems to have at least one that affected their direction in life. That saw them, identified something others didn’t see. Not me. I appreciated the Gaither’s casting me as the lead in Our Town. And, Miss Hull’s calling in chits to make me President of the 1965 Model U.N. for Indiana. But neither one changed my life. Greg Membrez was a wonderful Latin teacher, gentle and understanding. But, no.

On me, I know. Self-directed. Moi. Perhaps guarded, too? Which is not to say that I failed to learn from or appreciate many of the teachers I had. To the contrary. Philosophy. Anthropology. J. Harry Cotton. Dr. Scruton. Dr. Larry Hackestaff. Bob Bryant in constructive theology. Art Merrill in the Hebrew scriptures. I learned from them, appreciated their knowledge, and their teaching. But, at the personal level? No.

Raphael. School of Athens 1509-1510

Until Rabbi Jamie. He’s taught me about appreciative inquiry, learning from whatever you read, whoever you meet, wherever you are. Going in with the attitude that though this book may have things I don’t like, it can still have things to teach me. I’m not saying this well, because it sounds obvious.

Let’s see. With appreciative inquiry you can find positive and important ideas even in works, people, or places you might otherwise gloss over. This is about radical acceptance of the other.

He’s also the best question asker I’ve encountered in a classroom or learning situation. His questions, his style of dialogue encourages going further with an idea, deeper.

I’ve taken several classes from him: Kabbalah, Tarot, Torah study. In each one he includes a presentation session, the last one, where each student can do whatever they want to show what they’ve learned.

In his tutelage I’ve become a less combative learner, (less, not passive), willing to hear the sentences of the Orthodox Jew on Jewish values and find the middot there. He has subtly reinforced my own beliefs, by supporting me when I express them in his classes. Since I’m a goyim in a synagogue, pagan me finds this amazing.

I told him all this. This week. I’m trying to not let time go by without telling people I care about how I feel. Yes, partly Kate’s death. Yes, partly my own mortality. Mostly though just trying to be more transparent, easier to know.

Found after I told him that I was shy, a little embarrassed to see him again. Almost skipped mussar. Decided no. Silly. Weird. And, not weird. Going beyond the veil of Rabbi and congregant. Not often done in synagogues. Or, churches either, though more so in synagogues.

Lucky to have met him. And, Beth Evergreen.

Jodi from Blue Mountain comes with the cabinetmaker at 11:00. I want to live in a beautiful space. I’m doing the things I can to make that happen. Pruning. Staining the house. Installing ac for a delightful indoor climate. Remodeling the kitchen. Planning to rearrange all the furniture, create conversation areas, reading areas. TV space. Probably paint some inside walls, definitely rehang art.

Next year there will be other projects. Outside. Perhaps another bathroom remodel. Seeking a hermitage with inspiration and aesthetic value.

 

 

 

 

distracted

Lughnasa and the Michaelmas Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Kitchen redesign. Jodi coming at 10. The cleaning crew. A clean house. Check arrived at CBE. Finally. Diane in the knotty pine bedroom formerly used by Uncle Riley and Aunt Virginia. Her meeting with the cousins today in Muncie, Indiana. Mary. Ruth, Jon, Gabe. Coming up. Soup.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Freeze last night. 29 right now.

Tarot: Ten of Cups, Druid

 

On CBE’s schedule to take up chairs, clean up after the High Holidays. Luke did it. Got a call at 9:30 saying volunteers would not be needed. Did my full workout instead. I’d planned to use the CBE time to count as my workout.

The cleaners came and powered through the house. They’re good.

No medical appointments this week. That’s good. Little going on away from home. Also good.

Not feeling it right now. Gonna go down and have some breakfast.

Ah. Eggs. Bacon. Sourdough toast. Tomatoes. Coffee. Back.

China. Love it or loathe it. Or, both. As in my case. I consider myself at least 14% Taoist (or so). Song dynasty ceramics and painting are among my favorite art forms from any age. Romance of the Three Kingdoms has pages and plots and twists enough to keep the story interesting. For over 2,000 pages. Yes, I like Wushu and Kungfu movies. And modern ones like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.

On my one visit to China it was still in the bicycle traffic-jams and charcoal briquette era for Beijing. Most buildings we visited had no heat. It was winter. Granted we visited historic buildings for the most part, but we did go to a cloisonne factory. No heat and little light where the cloisonne workers spent their time.

Obama pivoted our nation’s military toward Asia. Joseph now works in the Asia-Pacific command for the Air Force, stationed on Oahu at Hickam AFB. He manages air force relations with the Philippines. China looms over everything they do.

A buddy of his, whose house I visited, manages the Australia desk. Big changes there this week. Nuclear submarines, not diesels from France. Siding with the West. Seems obvious until you look at Australia’s trading ties with China.

Contemporary China puzzles me. It seems to mount the steep wall of the third millennium with the careful precision of an ice climber.

OK. Gonna leave this one unfinished, too. Not there today. Not sure why. Just not. Maybe later.

 

 

Shadow Mountain Hermitage

Lughnasa and the Michaelmas Moon

Kate after election day, 2016

Tuesday gratefuls: Bailey. Bailey Patchworkers. Sewing, quilting. Kate, feisty and adorable. From so many cards I got yesterday. Drawing the Death Card. Gratitude. Gabe. Ruth. Jon. Kep and Rigel. Rain yesterday. Kitchen remodeling. Greg Lell, house stainer. Moving forward, into the fourth phase.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Tarot and Kabbalah

Tarot: Eight of Pentacles

 

285 west to Bailey. A favorite journey, usually made to the Happy Camper. The Continental Divide shows up after Pine. The tone becomes more Western. This time though to Platte River Community Church. Upstairs to the social hall where older women sat around round tables, eating off paper plates with plastic forks. Piles of cloth sat on other tables, parts of Kate’s stash now on its way to other sewing rooms, her taste distributed.

I said very little. Kate met you when we moved up here. She loved you and felt loved by you. You encouraged her and were her friends. Thank you.

Oh. And, I took off my shirt. This is not a strip tease. Lots of hands went up, encouraging me to keep going. Flattering at 74. I had on the Love is Enough t-shirt and showed it off because it featured a counted cross-stitch familiar to them.

As I drove away the North Fork of the South Platte River roared over Rocks on its way to Denver’s Water system. I passed the somewhat dilapidated office of the Bailey Flume, a six trailer trailer park, and a home next to the River with a Horse paddock. Bailey is in Park County, no longer the Denver metro and much poorer than Jefferson County where I live.

Been pondering the cards. Again. Still. Drew the eight of pentacles*. Again. Key words from the Druid Tarot Book: Steady progress. Apprenticeship. Training. Makes sense to me after the High Priestess and Death.

I’m in my fourth phase of life, a new path, a new ancientrail has appeared before me. The High Priestess has blessed me and Death holds the gate open. What do I need to do? Work methodically, steadily. Stay on the trail.

What is this trail? Some of it is much clearer now. I need to dive into the tarot, astrology, and kabbalah. Learn about them, keep my head down until I can do readings, cast charts, count the Omer. Bring all of this into conversation with the Great Wheel and Taoist strains of my own thought and practice.

Will I do readings, cast charts? No idea. But that’s the level of learning I want and it will require my attention. I will count the Omer

This trail adds research and study to my already existing writing and painting. Up here in the Shadow Mountain hermitage we have plenty to do. Time now to get at it. The destination is unknown, yes, but it’s end is certain.

 

“In a general context, the Eight of Pentacles Tarot card indicates a time of hard work, commitment, diligence and dedication. The effort you put in will not be in vain as your hard work will pay off and lead to results, rewards or the accomplishment of your goals. When this Minor Arcana card appears in your Tarot reading, it indicates that you are methodically working towards something you want. It may seem boring, mundane or even relentless at the moment but you are on the brink of achieving great success, so don’t give up. The skills you are learning at the moment will stand to you later in life and you will come away from this experience not only with the inner wisdom you’ve gained but with a sense of pride and self-confidence from achieving your ambitions.” tarotguide

Let go (Note: correction below)

Lughnasa and the Michaelmas Moon

picture by Mary

Monday gratefuls: Tara. The Ancient Ones, holding space for my eventful life. Peregrenatio. Rigel, lying down with me last night. A long night asleep. Orgovyx. Exhaustion. Hot flashes. Cousin Riley, his wife. Diane and Mary in Indiana. Bailey Patchworkers. Kitchen remodelers. House stainer. Jon, Ruth, and Gabe.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Death

Tarot: Death, #13 of the Major Arcana

 

So many help me. Jon, Ruth, Gabe came up Saturday. We had chicken pot pie and I sent them home with two. They also went to Upper Maxwell Falls to scatter some more of Kate’s ashes. I didn’t feel quite up to going and I wondered if it might be better anyhow. Allow them their own time, their own way of saying goodbye.

And, it was so. Here are Gabes’s (correction) words about it:

Gabe

“Grandma’s metaphorical ashes. The ashes that stuck to the bottom were the parts of grandma that will stay with us forever. The cloudy ashes that eventually dispersed to go to the Atlantic Ocean were the parts of grandma that were temporary and that we don’t need to remember like pain and suffering. And, the glass was the vessel like our bodies, useful but not permanent.”

Leaving for Durango, Bill not pictured. Tom, Paul, me, Mario

The next morning I take a walk with my Ancient friends: Paul, Mario, Bill, and Tom. We spoke to each other in our minds, through the spirit air waves as Mario suggested. We gathered afterward. They’ve allowed me a lot of time to process my ongoing, eventful life. And, I love them for it.

Afterward I went over to an organic breakfast spot, Taspen’s. Been here almost seven years and it was the first time. Meeting Tara, my friend from CBE.

Marilyn, Tara, the Burning Bush

We talked. Tara is a great listener and an empath. When I told her I felt I’d expressed self pity when Jon and the grandkids left on Saturday, she said it sounded like love. Ruth had said, See you, grandpop. And, I said, my voice catching, I hope so. Sounded needy and self-pitying to me at the time.

After talking with Tara, I thought. No. I was vulnerable, sadly hopeful. And I don’t experience vulnerability with them too often. Maybe that’s changing now.

Today I’m going to the meeting of the Bailey Patchworkers. Kate’s stash and other sewing accessories will be given away to her friends there. I asked for a couple of minutes to speak. I’ll tell them that Kate loved them. That they gave her friendship and motivation for sewing. And, right after we got here. She went faithfully as long as she could.

They were a very different crowd from her ordinary social circles. She spoke her political truth often, to folks who didn’t agree. As Lauri, her engineer friend said, “I should have disliked her, but I adored her.” That was Kate.

These are those who helped me just in the last three days. A lucky guy, I am. And, of course, Rigel and Kepler.

 

Tarot: Death, # 13 in the Major Arcana

I’ve been drawing cards in what some call a daily oracle. Pick out one card, see how it speaks to the day. Oracle is a poor choice of words in that it has a predictive connotation. I don’t find the tarot useful as prophecy. I’ve found it astonishingly useful as a mirror to my inner world. It shows me things I ignore, or overlook, or diminish, or things I didn’t know were there.

Let’s see. I’d call it, I guess, The Daily Mirror. Ha.

Anyhow my point here is that I’m doing my own thing with these daily cards and I’m not only reading the day, but the trends. I’ve had so many cards that spoke to my anima. I’ve remarked on this before. I’ve also had cards like the Hanged Man that speak to a transformation in values, in beliefs, in life way.

The Death card is the apotheosis of that trend. Yes, indeed, it refers to death. But, to death as transition, as transformation, as a severance with the ways of the past (including life, eventually. for Kate, already), an entry way to the new. If you recall the High Priestess from yesterday, she blocked the way on the path. She encouraged waiting, going down into the depths. I’d call it wu wei.

The death card opens the way, suggests I embrace the changes that the anima cards have hinted at, the inner knowledge that the High Priestess wanted me to attain before going on. It also suggests letting go.

Let go, Charlie, of the flat-earth humanism of your post-ministry years. Let go, Charlie, of the old life you had with Kate. (note: this does not mean an end to grief or a diminished view of life with her.). Open yourself to the tarot, to astrology, to kabbalah, to the other world. Open yourself again to the creative life of writing and painting. Live into it. Live with it. Live. Let go of the caregiver, let go of the inner skeptic, the inner editor, the inner cynic. Embrace the mystical, the soulful, the beautiful. Let go.

Die to the old ways and be born again into a fourth phase of life. One focused on creativity and the other world. Let go.

 

 

“Meaning: Initiation and transformation.  The core structure of initiation involves an experience of death followed by an experience of rebirth…We often have to die to our old ways of thinking, feeling, or behaving before we can open to our new life.” DTB

* “After a period of pause and reflection with the Hanged Man, the Death card symbolises the end of a major phase or aspect of your life that you realise is no longer serving you, opening up the possibility of something far more valuable and essential. You must close one door to open another. You need to put the past behind you and part ways, ready to embrace new opportunities and possibilities. It may be difficult to let go of the past, but you will soon see its importance and the promise of renewal and transformation.

Similarly, Death shows a time of significant transformation, change and transition. You need to transform yourself and clear away the old to bring in the new. Any change should be welcomed as a positive, cleansing, transformational force in your life. The death and clearing away of limiting factors can open the door to a broader, more satisfying experience of life.” biddy tarot

 

Yesterday and Today

Lughnasa and the Chesed Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Prostate cancer. Orgovyx. Kristie. Kep and Rigel, my companions, my friends. Passing out of the dark valley. Exercise. Safeway grocery pickup. Express delivery. 47 degrees this morning. Rain on its way.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: A Year Spread

Tarot: Three of Cups

Friday gratefuls: Rigel and Kep. Snuggling, staying with me, greeting me. CBE. The Bread Lounge. Donating. The spread sheets of the Rider-Waite deck from fellow student, David. Mark Horn and his Kabbalistic Tarot. Jung. His thought. Archetypes. Following our own hearts. The ancient ones. My friends. Diane. Mary. Mark. Cardio. Doing it.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rain

Tarot: Two of Wands

 

 

 

Thursday

Did myself a service yesterday. Writing about my feelings, then choosing to exercise after my Tarot and Kabbalah class. Lifted my mood. Finished my cardio day today. 30 minutes. 5 minutes longer at 3.0 My IT band complained so that may not have been a great idea.

Got a few errands to take care of today, then I’m going to mussar at CBE. So, short post.

Yesterday I picked up groceries from Safeway, finished my Tarot and Kabbalah class, exercised, and felt good. Getting exercise in always makes me feel better. Also, errand completion.

That’s why I’m going to take off in a few minutes. Gotta get my title revised, register Ruby for the upcoming year, buy some sourdough bread and get breakfast. Donate diapers and feeding tube liquid to Mt. Evan’s Hospice. I keep forgetting to do that.

 

Friday

Went to the DMV to change Ruby’s title into my name, get new tabs for my plates. Like the Social Security administration a guard, this time a deputy sheriff, was at the door. Have to have an appointment. Oh. Woulda saved me an hour the guy in the leather vest and cowboy hat said. Me, too, I joined in.

Over to the Bread Lounge to pick up a loaf of sourdough, my go to bread these days. Had an egg sandwich before I went to Mt. Evan’s hospice to donate feeding liquid. They didn’t want it. Not sure what I can do with it now. Highly specialized. May have to throw it away. Mt. Evan’s is close to CBE so I went there and waited in the sanctuary for mussar to start.

Looked over the clever sheets  David from Tarot and Kabbalah had created using a color printer. He printed out all of the Rider-Waite deck using a color printer. The copies he used for himself, hung by his computer were quite large, but he gave us all color copies, too, on eight and a half by eleven thick paper, six sheets in all. The Major Arcana take up two sheets and each suit has its own sheet.

This is in service of becoming familiar with each card in the deck and the deck over all. Very helpful. Gonna figure out how to do that for the Druid Craft and Wildwood decks at least. Learning the individual cards can seem overwhelming, this gives the task a gestalt it’s hard to get without putting the cards on a table face up.

Also signed up for a four session class with Mark Horn, who’s written a book The Kabbalistic Tarot. This class will feature a Tree of Life spread. Starts in October. Learning turns my crank, keeps me moving, the engine purring.

Van-Leyden St. Jerome in his Study by Candlelight (1520)

Just remembered that it’s fall, or at least fall-like. Certainly meteorological fall. A season of transition for temperatures, plant life, animal life. Hyperphagia. The Rut. And, for me, often a time of melancholy. So much so that Kate and I had phrase for her to say, “I sense you’re falling into melancholy,” when she saw the signs. Have to channel that part of Kate from now on.

The recent shift in my feelings, less upbeat, less resilient are markers I recognize. As is a leaden feeling in my body, a sense that I might be telescoping downwards, toward my feet. Mom died in October. The school year starts. The turn toward darkness is well underway. Two hours more of darkness for this date than on the Summer Solstice.

Michaelmas, the Springtime of the Soul, comes on the 29th of September. It may be that melancholy is a tool the psyche uses to prepare us for Michaelmas. Turning us inward, focusing us on the more narrow ambit of our own life.

Gonna stick with it for a while, remaining conscious of melancholy’s potential to turn toward depression. Use it.

See you on the darkside.