Category Archives: Shadow Mountain

A Life Transition

Yule and the Moon of Deep Friendship

Tuesday gratefuls: Gloriana frangipana! (first line of the Indiana University school song) Jane Pauley. Dick Pauley. Uncle Riley. Diane. The farm. The Blue River. Hancock Cemetery. Morristown. Milan. Bobby Plump. The Indy 500. The Indiana Republican party. Turkey Run State Park. Spring Mill State Park. The Alexandria Times-Tribune. Muncie. Wabash. Ball State.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: I.U.

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

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

Week Kavannah: Daat.    The Bridge Between Mind and Heart

“If Chokhmah (Wisdom/Inspiration) is a seed and Binah (Understanding/Analysis)  is the soil that develops that seed into a plant, Da’at is the nervous system that carries the vital life force from the brain to the rest of the body. It is the point of transition from “thinking” to “being.””

art@willwordsworth

Tarot: Ten of Bows, Responsibility

  • Overextension: Pushing yourself too hard, sacrificing well-being for responsibilities.
  • Perseverance: The strength to continue despite heavy loads, finding inner resolve.
  • Completion/Release: As a “10” card, it signals the end of this phase, often with the potential for release or freedom after enduring the trial.
  • Prioritization: A call to assess what truly matters and learn to say “no” or ask for help.

One brief shining: Eleanor bounded down the stairs, Shadow twirled at the scent of her friend, Tara hollered we’re here, and the Shadow/Eleanor run, twist, smell, wrestle all the time day began when I opened the door, Eleanor pushed through Shadow greeting her with a jump and a play bow.

 

Sport: Pride of place belongs to I.U. football. National champions. Undefeated. Bringing gloriana frangipana to the nation’s attention. I listened to an all red chorus sing the I.U. school song and it washed over me, redolent of nineteenth century American higher education. Made me wish, again, that I’d chosen I.U. over Wabash.

Jane Pauley, married to Gary Trudeau and former host of the Morning Show, made this tribute piece: Hail to Indiana. Cousin Diane found it. Jane often came to our family reunions since her dad, Dick Pauley, and Diane’s father, my uncle, were like brothers. If you watch this piece, Uncle Riley is to the left in the old photograph shown near the beginning. Family.

 

Soul Work: This year, let’s start it on February 4th, 2025 when I adopted Shadow from the Granby Shelter, has been a humbling one, physically. Over the course of a long, loving, difficult time developing a relationship with a traumatized puppy, I’ve had multiple diagnostic procedures followed by several courses of varied treatments ranging from radiation to nerve ablations. The whole process exhausted me.

Since the last meeting of our Mussar Vaad Practice group a month ago, one I had to leave in the middle due to extreme discomfort from a hernia, I’ve grappled with a persistent issue: if I go out, even on small jaunts, I come home drained. A combination of my head drop from post-polio, right lower back and hip pain added to a general weakness due to sarcopenia and the energy my body has to expend making up for the resources cancer steals from it.

The soul work has been around accepting that I have become almost home bound. Here, in a chair that supports my neck, with my home gym, I achieve a normal day without depleting myself. When a day on my calendar is clear, my lev is happy.

I don’t like this, but I’m increasingly unable to live the life I developed after Kate’s death. Question. Can I still live a significant, loving life under these conditions? My answer is yes, of course I can. As I said a week or so ago, recounting my talk with Rachel, my social worker.

I’ve come to this conclusion. My life is now mostly here at Shadow Mountain Home. That means no traveling, fewer trips out and those more calibrated than before. Leaning on my friends for help when I need it. Beginning to think about some more paid help around the house.

A life transition, not one I sought, but one to which I have to adapt. See the ten of bows.

 

 

A Very Doggy Shabbat

Yule and the Moon of New Beginnings

Sunday gratefuls: Shadow returned. For an hour. Nathan and his journey. The Dog run. The igloo Dog house. Natalie. The season of Yule. Veronica in Brooklyn. Mary down under. Mark in Hafar. Joe in Korea. Diane in San Francisco. Shadow Mountain. The Twin Cities. Robbinston, Maine. Evergreen. Denver.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shadow, my sweet girl

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:  Gevurah   strength, discipline

In your daily life, practicing Gevurah might mean:
  • Setting Boundaries: Knowing when to say no to preserve your energy or integrity.
  • Ethical Discernment: Evaluating situations clearly rather than acting on blind impulse.
  • Discipline: Committing to a path and having the strength to stay on it, even when it is difficult. 

Becoming a metaPhysician

One brief shining: A very Doggy shabbat with Nathan coming by to make final measurements for the Dog run, talking with him about Montana and Colorado Mountain Dogs as Natalie showed up with boarding school girl, all wiggles and wags and kisses, happy to be in her own home with her Dad.

 

Dog journal: Shadow came home for a visit. Natalie knocked on the door and came in with Shadow on her yellow leash. Shadow barked at Nathan, turned to me, then went behind Natalie. Overwhelmed. She soon settled down and went outside, happy to be in her yard. Not too long after she came in after a brief hesitation and got her cookie.

As Natalie and I talked, Shadow, a bit tentatively at first, came over to me, then jumped up with her front legs on my lap, wagging her tail, smiling as we hugged. Lots of kisses. That felt so good.

She’s only on the doggy prozac now. Her reactivity, much diminished. Her personality, intact. A good result.

She comes home for good a week from yesterday. The Dog run will mean a less spacious yard for her until she reliably crosses the threshold. Could be a while.

Natalie wants me to walk her away from the house. I’ll probably take her to Flying J. I can walk a bit, walking her will be good for me, too. She allows the leash to be put on now, though she still doesn’t like it. However, after the leash is on, she’s comfortable with it.

Also going to try, at Natalie’s suggestion, Dog pheromones diffused through a plug-in diffuser. These pheromones replicate the ones Bitches express while nursing, the reason Puppies become “milk drunk” and often sleep after feeding. Natalie has been using them with her dogs and has found they do have a calming effect.

What a long, strange trip it’s been.

 

Just a minute: As my knowledge of the alt-right has increased, I’m beginning to see potential fault lines in the MAGA movement itself and among those few remaining Republicans of the old G.O.P.

The most commented upon fault line lies along the America First pledge and Trump’s promise of a laser focus on affordability: prices at the pump, grocery receipts, and mortgage interest rates.

As he’s gotten entangled in Ukraine, Israel, Iran, and now Nigeria, and as he’s sought peace making merit badges in pursuit of a Nobel peace prize, his MAGA base feels he’s abandoned his efforts on affordability.

Internet Refugees

Samain (last day) and the Moon of New Beginnings

Shabbat gratefuls: Arjean and Tara. Eleanor and Kingsley. Generator. High Winds. The Grid. C.O.R.E. Lenovo. Ana. Natalie. Making the NYT. New computer. Getting it setup. Winter Solstice. Reading the news, books, magazines. Poetry. Morning darkness. Exercise. Shadow in boarding school. Joe in the U.S. Shabbat.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Starlink

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:  Yirah.    Radical amazement, awe.  “The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.”
― Albert Einstein

Becoming a metaPhysician

One brief shining: The days have begun to march toward the end of another year, another orbit completed in our circular, cyclical, non-linear path around Great Sol, yet before we get there: Winter Solstice, Yule, Christmas Eve, Christmas, Kwanza, New Year’s Eve how wonderful, these are my days of awe brilliant with legend, filled with memories, wedded to us by centuries, millennia of human longing.

 

Friday: Internet refugees. With my generator chugging along and my Starlink antenna aimed toward the northern sky, I had both power and the internet. Tara and Arjean had neither thanks to an Xcel intentional shutdown. Both of them had work they needed to do, homework as it is these days, yet could not.

Tara asked if she and Arjean could come and work here. I’m delighted you want to. Come when you need, stay as long as you like. In addition to electricity and internet, I also have a large fenced in back yard. Eleanor and Kingsley needed a place to romp.

The generator, with very brief interruptions, ran from Wednesday around 1 pm to Friday around noon. Made me feel good to be able to share what it made possible.

Due to family Ana had to wait until yesterday to clean the house. For a while, I had three adults and two dogs here. Shadow Mountain home buzzed with energy.

To complete the day Natalie came over to pick up Shadow’s heartworm meds and we chatted about Shadow. She will come to Natalie and let her put on the leash. “Though,” Natalie says, “she still looks like she’s going to die.” She crosses the threshold coming in from outside, yet Natalie says she’s reluctant to go back out. Well, geez.

I’ve recovered my exercise rhythm and had completed my workout before everybody showed up.

A good Friday.

 

Just a moment:  For reasons I don’t fully understand, I’ve begun to feel optimistic about our political future. 11 months to the day in this abysmal simulacrum of governance the cracks in DJT’s obsessive, unfocused, unintentional approach (which have always been there) have begun to widen enough to include Republicans, even some of his MAGA cult members.

Yes, he has three more years and one month (no, I don’t believe he can get around the 22nd amendment) and can still do more damage, but my gut tells me the political zeitgeist has begun to turn against him. We will see.

 

Power

Samain and the Moon of New Beginnings

Friday gratefuls: Generator. High Winds. Mountain living. Fresh Snow. Hanukkah. Damaged Dog house. Waiting on Nathan. Shadow and her heartworm meds. Natalie. Dr. Josy. Tara. Eleanor and Kingsley.  The Hummingbird. Alan and Joanne. Marilyn and Irv. C.O.R.E. Our electricity co-op. 80433 still 98% dark. Mother Nature can have a heavy hand. All our Wild Neighbors confronted with loss of body heat.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Automatic Transfer Switches

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

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

Becoming a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Maybe an hour or two yesterday evening of connection to the grid, then with a flicker and a thrum, the sound of the generator was once again heard on the Mountain, back to its already over a day of constant on, giving me water, internet, light, warmth, a feeling of security as I switched on my oxygen concentrator last night and went to bed.

 

Hard to value a generator. The whole home sort that Kate and I bought ran between nine and ten thousand dollars when we bought it well over 15 years ago. A lot more now, I’m sure. I said in the post yesterday that Kate’s heat intolerance made the decision. A big chunk of it, yes. The clincher though was water.

Ever since we moved to Andover in 1994, we’ve lived on properties with their own water and septic. Septic works on gravity and hydraulics which power outages don’t affect. Water however relies on an electric pump. Hand washing. Cooking. Showering. Irrigating in the case of Andover. Not to mention staying hydrated. We plunked down our money.

The proof of its value comes over the years. When it comes on with the easy grace of the automatic transfer, a sigh of relief. The longer it runs, the more grateful I am to have it. Beats lighting with candles, heating with a fireplace meant for aesthetics, and cooking by opening cans or roasting something over the fire. May sound romantic, and if voluntary, sure. But all day, all night for two plus days? Not so much.

 

Sports: OK. I’ll admit it. I like football. Watched the first half of the Seahawks v Rams last night. Wish I didn’t go to bed at 7:30, but I do. Got crazy near the end and the Seahawks won in over time. I’m allowing myself more football watching even though it includes advertisements which I loathe and pays ridiculous amounts of money to men, enough to make them ignore concussions and later life altering injuries. If I watch, I’m complicit.

Still. The intricacy and the elegance. The struggle. The crash of behemoth linemen, the beautiful running of a back squeezing through the line. A pass arcing just over the arms of a defender then to be caught one-handed. The occasional play that breaks loose: a runback of a kick for a touchdown, a back headed for a first down who breaks a tackle and rumbles on for thirty, forty, fifty yard. Poetry.

Blowin’ In the Wind

Samain and the waning crescent of Shadow’s Moon

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

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Generator

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

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

Becoming a metaPhysician

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey, Kate. We’re on generator.

Alchemical work

Samain and the Radiation Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Joanne. Diane. The Alembic. Jung. Freud. Rogers. May. Frankl. Maslow. Satir. Fromm. Adler. Horney. Erikson. Paul Goodman. Adorno. Marcuse. Benjamin. Habermas. Unamuno. The hermeneutics of suspicion. Ricoeur. Guides from my student days. The theology of liberation. Cornel West. Shadow Work. Ivan Illich.

Sparks of joy and awe: A day of rest

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:  Hakarat Hakov   Gratitude.    “Who is rich? Those who rejoice in their portion.” Perkei Avot 4:1

Tarot: Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Shadow, shadow work, the work done but unrecognized, unpaid, unappreciated housework, child rearing, transporting yourself to work, self checkout, pumping your own gas, making your own travel arrangements, assembling products that come in pieces, maintaining a yard and a vehicle noticed and named by radical thinker, Ivan Illich, in his book, Shadow Work. How much shadow work do you do?

Alembics. “…historically used by alchemists and for producing medicines, perfumes, and alcohol, the word can also be used metaphorically to mean something that refines or transmutes.” Gemini

I’ve begun to think of my life in terms of alembics. When was I thrown into a life situation, either by my own choice or by outside circumstance that resisted logic, yet compelled me to respond in unexpected, unusual, new ways?

A major early almebic? The death of my mother. No way to reason my way through that. A moment of dark transformation, carried without thought into the dark recesses of my heart, clashing with a changed world, and not well. In spite of being in a family, I sat in this alembic alone, feeling the fires of fear, doubt, grief lick up and around my stunned self.

This transmutation produced no gold. No, it produced a broken soul, one ready for abandonment, for sudden shifts from light to dark, from innocence to intoxication. Yes, the second alembic, which contained the first, grew from days at Phi Kappa Psi and Wabash where I learned to smoke and to drink.

An alembic that would not shatter until March of 1976 when I began treatment at a Hazelden outpatient clinic in Minneapolis. Getting sober allowed me to gather in pieces of the dark time and begin to transform them into psychic gold. To understand that the grief, the agony, the isolation (self-imposed) had forced me to mine my inner resources in ways and at a time most people went to prom and figured out what to do with their lives.

Other alembics. The Peaceable Kingdom. Seminary. Adopting Joseph. Vietnam era protests. Studying philosophy and anthropology. Marrying Kate. Andover with its gardens, dogs, bees. Writing. Shadow Mountain. Kate’s illness and death. Cancer. CBE. Converting to Judaism. Old age with a terminal illness, the fourth phase.

I like the use of alembic to describe these times because it recognizes that the pressures and fractures and falls and emergence shape us in ways unpredictable, unknown, yet in which we have no choice but to participate as best we can.

Are you in an alembic right now? Or, have you emerged from one recently? Or, long ago. How did it transform you? How is it transforming you?

An Inner Glow

Samain and the Summer’s End Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Morgan at Evergreen Orthotics. Neck braces. Abby Price, P.A., at Panorama Orthopedics. Steroid injection. Today. Looking forward to both. Cartoons. Anime. Manga. Horror. Fantasy. Science fiction. Mystery. Drama. Literary fiction. Albrecht Dürer. Arcimboldo. Breughel. Rembrandt. Poussin. Goya. Velasquez. Turner. Holbein.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: World Art

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Hakarat Hakov   Gratitude.    “Who is rich? Those who rejoice in their portion.” Perkei Avot 4:1

Tarot: Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Once again under the beam of a radiation  device remember radiation poisoning from atomic bombs yet here I go exposing myself to even more high energy particles for their harmful effect on human tissue, yes, their harmful effect aimed not at enemy cities, but at enemy cells, rogue multipliers who want to consume every bit of my body.

If you went into the crawlspace under my house, you would see black plastic sheeting covering the floor and tight against the short walls. Outside a vented flying saucer like device with a whirling fan sucks air from beneath the sheeting and disposes of radon, a naturally occurring radiation contained in soil and rock and water. Many homes here in the Rockies have radon mitigation devices.

When I traveled through southern Utah, several years ago, I stopped at the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument. When I got out of the Tundra pulling Merton’s last possessions (Kate’s Dad), I hiked around the area.

Small wooden signs in National Park style had yellow painted letters that read: Uranium Mine, stay out.  Chains across the entrances reinforced the signs. These were modest as mines go, more like human sized burrows reaching back into the rock of the Kaiparowits Plateau.

When Kate and I began to look for housing after we decided to move to Colorado, a good deal caught our eye, the Candelas Development. Cheap land, good prices on interesting homes, and midway between Boulder and Denver with unobstructed views of the Front Range.

What’s not to like? Its proximity to the long closed Rocky Flats nuclear production facility for one. Rocky Flats, now a Superfund site, blocked off by chain link and razorwire, made nuclear triggers for the military.  An ongoing controversy focuses on plutonium found in the unmitigated land surrounding the Superfund site, the Rocky Flats Wildlife Refuge, and the land under the Candelas Development.

It’s been declared safe over and over again by regulators, but critics say that no amount of plutonium exposure is healthy. We did not choose to buy there.

Radiation occurs in so many places, some of human artifice, most part of Mother Nature’s collection of elements distributed over the Planet’s surface and within her mass.

I’m glad some clever scientists figured out how to harness radiation for peaceful uses like nuclear power plants (looking at you, Bill Schmidt), smaller reactors that power submarines and aircraft carriers, and fighting cancer.

Starting on Monday of next week, I’ll have the first of ten doses of lower energy radiation to kill a lesion in the bone marrow of my T4 vertebrae. I will wear my red t-shirt with the radiation hazard logo in yellow.

 

 

Charred Tomatoes

Samain and the Summer’s End Moon

Friday gratefuls: Alan. Joanne. Rabbi Jamie. Ric. Shadow the wonderful. Kate, always Kate. Rigel. Vega. Gertie. Kepler. Murdoch. All Dogs. Cooking with homegrown food. Kylie. Nerve ablation. Dr. Carter. Radiating my T4 vertebrae. Life with chronic disease. Tom and his PET scan. At Mayo. All men with prostate cancers.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: My Cherry Tomatoes and Beets. Cooked.

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

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

Tarot: Me as a Metaphysician

One brief shining:  After pouring three tablespoons of extra virgin Olive oil on the Pepper strips, the delicate Garlic slices, the wedges of Scallion, the whole Cherry Tomatoes, and the hot Italian sausage, I took my favorite wooden spoon and began stirring it all on the baking pan, coating the Vegetables with a bright sheen, the sausages, too. Under the broiler.

 

Artemis/Cooking: Alan reminded me of the sheet pan recipes in the New York Times cooking section when I mentioned my bumper crop of Cherry Tomatoes. He had some favorites using Cherry Tomatoes and forwarded them to me. I found them and another one using Italian sausage.

Ordered the sausage, the Scallions, the Garlic, to go with my Cherry Tomatoes and Beet, the already cut strips of Bell Peppers and last night I assembled them all. My ability to stand has its limits, but I thought of movies where Italian mothers sat peeling and chopping, and did some of the work that way.

I cannot tell you how meaningful, how wonderful it was to once again cook with food I had grown myself. I could have done more but I ate the other Tomatoes off the Plant or soon after. The first bite of the charred Tomatoes? Exquisite. The second of my Beets? Excellent. Overall a great Thursday evening meal.

Two gallon bags remain, one with Spinach and Beet Leaves, the other with Kale. I plan to cook them over the weekend. An unexpected bonus? Energizing my desire to cook for myself. Will cancel Cook Unity for now. Have at it.

 

Health: Saw Kylie, my pain doc, yesterday. She sent the order for my nerve ablation. Should hear from scheduling in a week or two. Can’t be too soon. If the ablations produce that pain free feeling I had for a couple of hours after the first lidocaine injections, I will be ecstatic. Should reinforce my cooking decision.

Hannah, Kylie’s med tech, lives in Bailey, even further west into the Mountains along 285. Maybe 13 miles. Each time I see her we discuss the drive in. She does it everyday, including winter. Not an easy commute for a job that can’t pay too well.

 

Just a moment: Nuclear Don. Red Tie Guy glowing with energy after his meeting with Xi Jinping. His erratic behavior would cause serious, thoughtful, concerned reporting yet because it seems to be only an extension of prior behavior, it seems to rouse less interest. Odd. IMHO.

Did He Really Say That?

Mabon and the Samain Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Tarot. Tara. Eleanor. Hay for the Garlic. Harvesting Kale, Spinach, and Beets. Joe. Joanne. Marilyn. Ric. Luke and Leo. Heather. Ginny and Janice. Cold morning. Sheet Pan meals. Alan. Kongs. Nylabones. Gonoughts. Tires. Doggie puzzles. Sit. Down. Touch. Come. Dodgers and Blue Jays.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The World Series

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

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

Tarot: Reading with Tara

One brief shining: Kitchen scissors did not substitute well for garden shears as I cut Stalks of Kale, Leaves of Spinach, pinching my fingers; I did leave their roots  to nourish next year’s crop, and gently rocked Beet Roots back and forth to pull them from their home deep in the soil of Artemis’ western raised bed.

 

Dog Diary: I watched Eleanor and Shadow play. Shadow pawed up toward Eleanor’s head. Eleanor draped a long black Leg over Shadow’s back. Shadow reached up, gave her a nip. Friends in an intimate moment.

Whenever Tara opened the back door, the two of them rushed in, bouncing, smiling, jumping up, bringing the happy chaos of young animals enjoying themselves, each other, us. Infectious. Joyous. In the present.

A word for Gracie, Anne’s Blue Heeler, who died a few months ago. A calm and pleasant Dog who enjoyed lying in the Light of Great Sol as it streamed through the tall windows of the synagogue’s social hall. Humans sitting around a table trying to figure out how to be more like Dogs. Kind. Loving to all. Compassionate.

 

Artemis: Harvested a gallon Ziploc bag full of Kale and another of Spinach. Pulled up eight Beets, two small but fully round, the others longer, less filled out, all with tiny white roots reaching out from the main, spilled blood red.

Proof of concept. More, much more, than I expected. Today I will harvest Rainbow Chard and plant Garlic. I disconnected the drip irrigation from the hose and shut down the heater in the greenhouse. Without the insulation Nathan has yet to install it can’t hold back the outside temps when they plunge well below freezing.

Ordered a pair of my favorite garden shears from Amazon. They would have been useful yesterday with the Kale and the Spinach, but they’ll be necessary for cutting down my Tomato Plants. Once I get a propane heater for the greenhouse I plan to plant Lettuce, Arugula, and herbs, other plants ok with cold weather.

The Carrots will continue to grow in the cold frame of the east raised bed for a while, though I’ll have to water them now that the irrigation has gone quiet. Next spring I plan to devote that bed to memorial Flowers for Jon and Kate: Iris, Gladiolus, Canna Lilies.

A successful first season. And, a great boon to my daily life.

 

Just a moment: Oh, Jesus. Did he really say “Because of other countries testing programs, I have instructed the Department of War to start testing our Nuclear Weapons on an equal basis,” Mr. Trump wrote on Truth Social, his social media site, saying the process would begin immediately. quote from NYT, 10/30/25.

Coming to Summer’s End

Mabon and the Samain Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Paul. Marilyn and Irv. Big O. Closing up the cold frames. 19 degrees this morning. A cold Rain. 23 in the greenhouse. Bye, bye Tomatoes. The Diplomat. High quality TV. Joanne, coming home today. Aspen Perks. Maddie, coming today. CBE bridge this afternoon. Red Tie Guy trying to make nice with fellow tyrant, Kim Jong Un.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Snow Tires

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

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

Tarot: Paused

One brief shining: Shifted waiting room chairs after Great Sol heated me up, found a shaded one as customers came in, spoke with front desk clerks about brakes, a steering wheel that wobbled at forty miles per hour, which winter tire to buy while I laughed out loud, often, reading Carl Hiaasen’s Beach Fever on the Kindle app of my Samsung phone.

Following Alan’s plan from last year, I had my Snow tires put on a bit early, beating the November scrum that often finds appointments out past Thanksgiving. Big O, not Stevenson Toyota. Cheaper and closer. An 8:30 am drive down Black Mountain/Brook Forest Drive listening to Hard Fork, the New York Times podcast about tech with a focus on AI.

Aspens in sheltered places remain the grand golden torches of the late Fall Forest though most have lost their leaves to Wind and Rain. This is a delicate moment between our bicolored Fall and the bitter weather leading toward Thanksgiving. No Snow here yet, though Black Mountain’s ski runs did collect Snow a week ago.

Elk Cows gathered along Maxwell Creek where it turns and flows through Evergreen, their horned Patriarch lounging as the Cows ate Grass and drank from the cold Waters of this Mountain Stream. Evergreen Lake had no paddle boarders, no kayakers.

A quiet anticipation. Black Bears nearing the end of hyperphagia, hunting for or returning to dens to sleep away the fallow time. Elk Cows and Mule Deer Does quickening with Calves and Fawns.

Humans have on their hoodies, fleece. Most have on long pants though I saw a  man yesterday in bright yellow down vest, shorts, and sandals. Temperatures vary a lot between Sun and Shade, between early morning and midday making what to wear solved only by layers.

10 foot tall skeletons, ghosts made of used sheets, orange trash bags filled with leaves sport pumpkin faces. The increasing and earlier decorations for All Hallow’s Eve, or the feast of Summer’s End, Samain.

Summer has not fully fled with Denver hitting seventy-five this week. A few 60’s in our highs for Shadow Mountain.

We hang here between the final harvests of late fall gardens and the full stop of the growing season. Life in my late seventies mirrors this time. How long until l come to an end of my growing season? Words begin to disappear. The body becoming a brown husk, its seed long harvested, waiting for that first heavy Snow.