Category Archives: Shadow Mountain

Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Hermitage, Mussar, Shadow Mountain

Moving

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Samain and the Holimonth Moon

Friday gratefuls: Gabe, coming up today through Sunday. Cold outside, 7 degrees. Kep. MVP. Alan. Sold his house. Evergreen. The Elk of Evergreen. The Bread Lounge. That dulce de leche croissant. Vince and his laborer. Moving my home office into the house. Today. Ruth. Hanukah. Advent. Christmas. The Winter Solstice. Yule. Putin. Ukraine. The Moon, the Sun, and the Stars.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Getting things done.

 

Breakfast with Alan yesterday at the Bread Lounge. They sold their house. But. The one they want to buy continues to slide back and forth between offers, apparently a couple who are in conflict. He wants to stay; she wants a garden. To make it more fun the sellers agent is on her honeymoon in Southeast Asia.

Alan adapts quickly. If there’s a couple of months between the sale of their house and being able to move in somewhere new, he and Cheri will either go to Hawai’i or rent a penthouse in the same building.  Or move into a furnished Air BnB type place. Penthouse now means, I learned, any unit above the 38th floor.

He’s excited about a new adventure. Living downtown after over 20 years overlooking the Continental Divide in Genessee. He’s a happy guy, making the changes positive. Sorta like my buddy, Mark.

Had the Chinook Salmon toast again. Alan had corned beef hash and eggs. Afterward I bought a ridiculously expensive croissant filled with dulce de leche. Had it later in the day. OMG. Totally worth the price.

 

Back home. Mussar online. Discussing a page in Jewish Values called Untamed Anger and the Death of Love. Focused on the story of King David and Michal, his wife, the daughter of King Saul. About modulating our voice, our words, even our intentions in situations of anger. Avoiding sarcasm. Staying present. Being aware that words can kill love in a marriage. A good discussion.

 

After I had to go unplug and otherwise disconnect my loft computer and its peripherals, move all the items I’d collected near and on it. Clear off the Levenger laptop desk. Move chairs off the Oriental rug. Also clean off the side table I bought for my birthday several years ago. Boxed up computer wires, speakers, microphone.

Yet this morning I’ll box up teaware. The Zojirushi.

All of that will move into the home office here in the Hermitage. Plus my computer chair and a rolling file, the Oriental rug and one of the Ikea reading chairs.

Why you might ask? Kep. He can no longer go up and down the loft stairs. I’ve begun to write my new book and I need to be on the desktop. To do that I would have to leave him alone in the house while I was up there. When he was younger, that would have been fine, but now he wants to be near me most of the time. He’ll get a bit more exercise going up and down the stairs to the third level. Which have grippy treads on them.

The loft will continue to be a library, art studio, gym, and reading spot.

Oh. The Stickley bookcase is also going upstairs into Kate’s old sewing room to complete the conversion of it into a dining room. Still pruning work to do in it, but it’s switchover in purpose has already happened.

Aging, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Politics, Shadow Mountain, US History, Woolly Mammoths, World History

Aging and its good news

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Samain and the Holimonth Moon

Monday gratefuls: BJ and Sarah. Kep at 4:30 am. David Olson. Jon, a memory. Kate, always Kate. Gabe’s Hanukah wish list. Ruth in her dad’s sweater. The Ancient Brothers on the assets of aging. Morocco and Croatia. The World Cup. Ruby and her AWD failure notice. Clearing the way for some moving. Sleeping in. Hard reset on my hearing aid worked. Phonak. SpaceX to the Moon. Elon Musk. Sort of. The clear, clean days of Winter.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Moon as it changes

 

Yesterday after the Ancient Brothers identified the assets of aging I took a rest day. Saturday was too much driving. Although Kep seemed to like it. Read, watched TV.

In the early evening I talked with BJ and Sarah. What different lives we all have. Sarah and Jerry and their self-built gardens and buildings in rural North Carolina. BJ and Schecky who biked 5 miles to New York Cake and back from their home in the Hotel Beacon on Broadway. Me on Shadow Mountain with the Elk and the Mule Deer.

 

The assets of aging. Too often aging = kvetching. Aching bones. Tired from driving. (see above) This knee, that hip or shoulder. Maybe replaced. Friends and family members dying. The stock market. The bowels. Care taking. Cancer. Arthritis. And the list goes on, seeming to grow a bit with each added year. BTW: not diminishing the reality of any of these. Or the disruptions they create in daily life. But. It is easy to get lost in the obligations and ailments. Forget the wonderful gift still daily available. Life.

So Tom asked the question. What have we gained as older folks? What are our assets now? Knowledge accumulated through the days and months. Having seen things fail and things succeed. The ability from that to put life events, even dire ones, in perspective. Including death.

The bonds of friendship. As one of us pointed out, it does take forty years to have a forty year friendship. Or, with family it take decades to enjoy grown children and have them enjoy you.

We often have some money squirreled away and with it the ability to help in modest ways when necessary. A real joy.

Love. Its necessity and its travails. Its various focii. From partners to brothers and sisters to friends and pets to Mountains and Trees and moments in time, special places. That it can be lost and regained. Its mystery and its beauty. Long experience with how love can enter and transform lives can give us old folks a certain softness, a way of being with another more easily so love can seep into the cracks. This is a great and wonderful gift.

Loss. We’ve seen death up close. Know its horrors and its mystery. It is no longer far off. We also know the death of loved ones can be survived, even when everything within says they can’t. We also know the death of a pet is the loss of a companion, a friend of many years. Not to be diminished.

Though there are many other assets I’ll only mention one more. We have seen our culture change from the closed in, materialistic immediate post-war years to the thousand flowers blooming of a counter-culture and a reaction against it that has not yet run its course. Here Philip Slater’s little book, The Chrysalis Effect, suggests that the integrative, democratic culture of the anti-war, back to the land, civil rights era remains ascendant in the face of stubborn and even violent responses to it. Women have still gained power. African-Americans and Latinos have more power. First Nations people have begun to feel their influence grow. The LGBTI+ community has blossomed. Globalism has won the day as trade interleaves nations with other nations.

We remain to support the rise of integrative, democratic culture in whatever ways we can. Loving our GenZ grandchildren. Donating money. Acting politically. Giving our validation to these changes. Pressing back against what Slater calls the Controller Culture. Being imaginal cells for the changes birthing themselves as I write.

Assets indeed.

Aging, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Mountains, Shadow Mountain

Ruth and Gabe

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Samain and the Holimonth Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Ruth at Cedar Springs. Colorado Springs. Pikes Peak. Garden of the Gods. I-25. Gabe, on himself. A long drive. Getting lost. Kep, having a good time on the road. Sleeping in the bedroom last night. Ruby losing her AWD. Then getting it back? Family. People happy I’m staying here. Preparing for some more moving in the house. That mortgage at 3%. This house, this home, this Hermitage. Herme. Lit daily.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ruth, her journey to self knowledge

 

Struggled to get Kep in the car. Neither one of us are as strong as we used to be. Got it done though. He panted nervously. Eventually laid down, grew calm. Picked up Gabe at his mom’s, then headed down I-225 to I-25, all south toward Colorado Springs.

Colorado Springs. Where Ruth has spent the last three weeks at Cedar Springs Hospital. She says it’s a good place for her. We took Kep out of the car so she could see him. Couldn’t tell if he remembered her or not. His cues as to who’s who seem blunted.

This hospital has an iron gate around its whole campus. The gates open only one car at a time and there are at two gates. The main building is older brick in the style of institutional gothic. The newer buildings have mid-to-late twentieth century school architecture. Buff brick, single story. A slightly conical roof. Glass entrance doors.

Ruth told me there is an acute hospital in the building next to her for adults and young children. Her building, Juniper, is only teenagers. Next to it is a third building which houses the school and an adult residential unit. Therapy dogs come regularly as do therapy horses, sheep and goats.

It all seems grim to me, but Ruth likes her therapist and says she’s doing better. She’s learning guitar, reading a lot, making art with markers. They’re also trying to recalibrate her meds. Find a mix that works for her.

She will be there into January. I’m going to see her on December 24th which happens to be the last night of Hanukah as well as Christmas Eve. She’ll get a pass and we’ll go out into Colorado Springs, find some things to do, have a meal. Visitation is only on Saturdays and for one hour on Tuesday evening. Without a pass Saturday visits have a 2-4 pm limit. Ruth got tired, so Gabe and I left at 3:30. She lost sleep last night due to the readjustments of her meds.

It was good to have the ride down and back with Gabe. We had long conversations. School mostly. He has actual ringlets, his hair is long. With a touch up for side curls he could be a Hasidic Jew. He’s grown a good bit over the last six months, maybe over 5 feet at last.

He says he’s popular but doesn’t know why. He has good friends. Seems steady. Has no idea where he’s headed in terms of education. Sandoval High where he and Ruth go is a STEM school. He enjoys biology, putting things under a microscope. Photography. He’s also learning guitar. Dork. That’s his self-description. Yet. He also says others say he’s self-confident. He is. Probably why he’s popular.

He loves muscle cars. Would I please buy him a 1968 Mustang? Here’s one for only $25,000. Shows me his phone. No.

When Kep and I got back to the Mountain, Kep jumped out of the back, landed gracefully. I could tell he had a good time. He carried himself with more pizazz.

Two hours down. Two hours there. Two hours back in heavy traffic at night. I was pretty tired. Getting back to the much less hectic pace of Shadow Mountain was a distinct relief.

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Hermitage, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Shadow Mountain, Writing

Cancer Today

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Samain and the Holimonth Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Tom. Ruth. Diane. Mary. Mark. Alan. Jen. The Night Sky. Each Star. Each Galaxy. All the Dark Matter. The mysterious and ineffable Universe. Life. All my wild Neighbors. Kristie. My P.E.T. scan. The Ancient Brothers. Kep. Finding his way. By feel at times. The House on Shadow Mountain. Herme. Family. Friends. This Day, this amazing unique Day.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Blood

 

P.E.T. scan. Kristie and I talked late yesterday. It was a little confusing, but my big takeaway from it was that the news was good. Compared to the axumin scan I had last year almost all the sites that had uptake of the tracer showed what she referred to as healed cancer. There were no new areas of concern though one spot near my left hip and one spot of my T3 vertebrae did have uptake which means active cancer. This confused me a bit because I didn’t remember any spot on my spine being of concern after the axumin scan. Might have forgotten, or not been told.

I also say confusing because I don’t know what healed cancer means. Kristie said she thought of it as cancer cells that have been starved to the point of inaction. As long my testosterone is low they will not be able to reignite.

I don’t know what they’re going to want to do about the two sites of still active cancer. Might be radiation. I’ll have a call with Dr. Simpson again. He’s the radiation oncologist. The other option would be to continue letting the Erleada do its work. It has improved my situation a lot over the last year. See if it can knock out or down these remaining active sites. Maybe there’s an option I don’t know about.

Drug holiday. In 9 months or so I will be taken off both Erleada and Orgovyx. This is because being on them too long means my cancer might develop resistance to them. During the drug holiday my testosterone will return and the “healed” cancer cells will once again have a food source. Kristie said sometimes patients are off the drugs for years before the PSA rises. Sometimes months. Very individual. Not predictable.

Anyhow. That’s the cancer story as it stands today on the third day of Advent 2022.

 

Yesterday was a busy day. Talked to Tom in the AM. In the creativity class my How to Become a Pagan was a hit. As I said yesterday, you can read it on the Reimagining Faith page of this blog. Made me feel good. Pumped me up for my writing. A priority for me.

Lee from Morris Autobody brought the Jeep back. And I drove him back to his shop. You may remember Lee from my conversation with him about the problems in his business.

Ruth called but the connection was never made. I called her back. The same. Kristie’s nurse, Michelle, called and asked if I could reschedule till Monday. No. I want to know the result of that scan. Mark called me and Mary wanted to zoom. All of this communication happened over the space of an hour and a half.

Leave for breakfast with Alan at 8:30. The Parkside. A slow weekend. Looking forward to it. House chores to get started. Groceries. R&R.

 

 

Acting, Great Wheel, Hawai'i, Hermitage, Politics, Shadow Mountain, The Move, US History, Weather +Climate, World History, Writing

A fascinating time to be alive

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Samain and the Holimonth Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Dinner with Tom at the Willows last night. Long time friends. Diane. A Mountain Wind. Snow knocked off the Lodgepoles. Snow and Ice on Black Mountain Drive. Advent. Sussex. The Jacquie Lawson advent calendar. Going to bed. Waking up. The Chrysalis Effect by Phillip Slater. CJ Box. Kep, the old dog. US vs. Netherlands. How to become a pagan. Acting class. Nitya. Teaching the Ancient Brothers.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Holimonth

 

Acting class has been hit by illness. Tal, the teacher, has the flu or something like it. Nitya, a class member, spent several days in the ICU and is still recovering in the hospital. Not sure what will happen. Tal wants to hold a class on Friday, but I’m reluctant to go given the recency of his bout with the flu. A tough wind down for what has been an interesting and challenging experience.

I was ready. I’d gotten both monologues memorized and somewhat polished. I knew all the lines in my two scenes. Not wasted work. Good work. Helps the brain. Adds some literature to the bank.

Tomorrow morning I present in the Creativity class. Think I’m going to do my How to become a pagan piece. Wrote it yesterday. Gotta see how long it is when spoken. Going to lean into writing and art over the winter as I said yesterday. This was a start.

 

High Wind warning today. The Lodgepoles have begun to sway. Dancing with each other as Sunlight makes their tops glow. I haven’t written about it but the Mountains and their Trees and Wild Neighbors? I would have missed them. A lot. Couldn’t imagine being in a city environment where no Pine Trees framed the Nighttime Stars. Will not trade this beauty for a place with less. Hawai’i matches the Mountains with its Oceans and old Volcanic Mountains, its rich fauna. Someday. But right now. This wonderful place is home.

 

The world. Russia looking like a blind Bear in the Ukraine. Wrecking the place, striking out wildly. China finding that suppression and repression have their limits. Even with a newly anointed dear leader. The US struggling with divisions at home and new fractures among European allies. Not a great time to be a world power.

 

It is however a fascinating time to be alive. Talks of a moon base. Be still my John Carter, Flash Gordon little boy heart. The James Webb showing us more and more of the universe in which we live and move and have our becoming. A world shifting its long term basic rules. Climate change accelerating. Women growing in power. China and Russia and the upstart USA. All in flux.

Glad to have these years as my last ones.

Mountains, Park County, Politics, Shadow Mountain, Sport, The West

Beauty Nearby

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Samain and the Holimonth Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Snow. Cold. No pee on the rug. Kep, my official nudger. Osher Lifelong Learning. Herme. The Hermitage. Warm for the Winter. Dr. Astrov. A Chekhovian humanist. National Forests. Arapaho. Pike. Chippewa. Grand Mesa. Rio Grande. Superior. Mauna Loa. Erupting. Hawai’i Volcanoes National Park. Haleakala. Mt. Etna. Black Mountain. Bear Creek. Cub Creek. That six point Mule Deer Buck. Rabbit tracks in the Snow. Phonak.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Mauna Loa

 

Colorado Cold. 10 degrees. Sparkling white Snow. The Snowpack. Lagging a bit here but good in the Colorado River Basin. An old fashioned Winter shaping up for Shadow Mountain.

 

Over to the Happy Camper yesterday after working out. The lady at the cash register surprised me by saying after I gave her my birthday. That was my husband’s, too. I missed a chance to make a solid connection with her. Too focused on my purchase. Another 8 packs of Indica Cheeba Chews. Edibles. A word that has morphed its meaning over the last ten years.

The drive to Bailey featured a Snow capped Continental Divide and Mt. Blue Sky (formerly Mt. Evans). Always a beautiful drive. If you drive beyond the Happy Camper into Bailey, you come to the 7% grade known as Crow Hill. It levels out into the Platte Valley where the small town of Bailey begins.

The Platte Valley has steep Mountains on both sides and a roiling North Fork of the South Platte River. This is Park County, no longer Jefferson in which I live. Bailey is the only town with a downtown in the Valley and it’s a modest one. Shawnee and Grant have names, but no there there.

As Hwy 285 rises toward Kenosha Pass, the 11,000 foot pass separating the Platte Valley from South Park, the Valley ends. About half way up this incline is Park County 61 which leads to Burning Bear Creek Trail and a beautiful camping area in the Pike National Forest. I posted pictures of a large Beaver dam and Beaver felled Trees earlier this summer.

I write this to illustrate how much beauty there is within an hour or less of Shadow Mountain. Including Shadow Mountain, Black Mountain, Conifer Mountain. The drive down to Evergreen on Black Mountain/Brook Forest Drive.

 

Gee, guys. Headline in the New York Times: Jewish Allies Call Trump’s Dinner With Antisemites a Breaking Point. You think?

 

Today at 2pm MT the US Men’s soccer team plays Iran. And it’s a must win for the US if they hope to advance.

 

 

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Judaism, Politics, Shadow Mountain, US History

Unwinding my pessimism

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Samain and the Holimonth Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Gabe. Jon, a memory. Kate, always Kate. Ruth. Jen. Kep, the one who gets me up. Alan and  Tom. The changing Moon. The constant Sun. Black Mountain, my stolid friend. Steady. Maxwell Creek, mover of Mountains. Orion’s return. Artemis I. The Land Institute. The Sanctuary. Democrats. Republicans. Independents. USA. Soccer. The World Cup. Formula 1. Book: Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Poem: The Second Coming. Movie: The original Invasion of the Body Snatchers

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Road trip to Colorado Springs

 

Up a bit late yesterday. Thanksgiving was fun, but it wore me out. Even with my thyroid hormone back to normal I still have no testosterone and chemo. And, I suppose, I’m 75, too. As things are.

Talked to Tom at 8 am. Afterward I worked out, getting my minutes in for the week. 166 after yesterday. 150 is my minimum and I hit it every week unless something dramatic intervenes. Makes me feel good in the moment and later about self-care.

Lunch with Alan. He and Cheri have decided to move into Denver. A neighbor’s house burned down in August. Had the previous owner not been diligent about fire mitigation there’s would have gone down with it. The final piece of evidence Cheri needed to push forward. She’s convinced folks who live up here, like me, will not be able to insure our houses in five years. She’s a bright woman who worked in insurance. Good thing I’m outta here before that. Not really sure I believe it anyhow.

Back home. Wrapped up that Bose Wavesystem 4 I bought off Amazon, a real deal, and shipped it back. The damned thing either wouldn’t play a CD or wouldn’t load them. It did display READING DISC well though. Back to the internet to find something to play my CD’s. I know it’s ancient technology and now long superseded by blue tooth, but I like my collection. And, yes, I have a good blue tooth speaker for my phone and laptop to use. Just stubborn, I guess.

Afterward I joined millions in the U.S. for a black Friday tradition. No, not that one. I ate leftovers. Had a chunk of tenderloin and a good deal of a relish tray brought by Jen and Barb. When you live alone you can eat odd meals like that and no one’s there to comment on it.

Enjoying Wednesday, a limited series on Netflix. I liked the Addams family when it was on many years ago and I’ve enjoyed many of Tim Burton’s films. Jenna Ortega, new to me but not to tween Disney fans, has a wonderful sardonic presence leavened with caring. Tough acting. Said the now two acting classes experienced very amateur actor.

 

In other news, this disturbing story. At Protests, Guns Are Doing the Talking: Armed Americans, often pushing a right-wing agenda, are increasingly using open-carry laws to intimidate opponents and shut down debate. NYT today

Had not thought about this. It’s a logical extension of the fetishization of guns and the 2nd amendment. Not sure whether there’s a legal argument against it. A chilling effect on free speech should have some weight as should some domestic terrorism laws. Shouldn’t they?

Hate to say it but there may need to be a martyr or two before this issue becomes heated enough for some political action.

After some thought last week (see my posts about Ezra Klein and Pippa Norris) and after Tom introduced me to the Chrysalis Effect by Phillip Slater, I’ve begun to unwind my pessimism about the future. Yes, even in light of this story and in some ways because of it. I now believe this is a transient phenomenon, this right wing, armed fear. The transient period may be long, perhaps decades, but we will age out of it and into a world dominated by Gen Z, Ruth and Gabe’s generation. They have more vision and compassion than exists in our current political climate.

That caveat? That the norms of our democracy might be destroyed before this transition can take place. Alleviated by the mid-terms. Not resolved, no. But lessened. We can still take a punch.

 

 

 

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Hermitage, Holidays, Judaism, Shadow Mountain

Thanksgiving

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Samain and the Holimonth Moon

Friday gratefuls: Tom. Mary Jane. Jen. Barb. Gabe. Ruth. Green bean casserole. Sweet potatoes and marshmallows. Tenderloin. Sugar cream pie. Thanksgiving. A gathering of the grateful. The Ancient Brothers. Books: 1001 Arabian Nights. Poems: Notes Toward a Supreme Fiction. Movies: Spirited Away. My sustaining friend, Shadow Mountain. Alan. The Warrior Nun. The new P.E.T. scan. Urology Associates. Prostate cancer care.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Kep. Or. he who sleeps most.

 

Up early (5 am) to get Thanksgiving underway. As in many households across the land. First thing I did? Build a fire. I rarely have a fire but it made the day feel like a holiday. Right away. With those fast burning chunks of pine afire I fed Kep and right afterward made a sugar cream pie. Though. As I recalled during my nap. Oops. Forgot the butter and the nutmeg. I added both back in, but later than the recipe calls for. Turned out ok. Sort of.

At noon I got the tenderloin out of the refrigerator. Warming up for the skillet at 2 pm and the oven right after. All in my cast iron pan. Which I love. Jen, Barb, and Gabe came right at 2 with a pumpkin pie, green bean casserole-the traditional kind with canned onion rings-be still my Midwest culinary heart, sweet potatoes with marshmallows, salad, a relish tray, and a box of candy cane coated chocolate. A good feed was had by all.

We ate in the new dining room, aka The Sewing Room. I mentioned as we began the three empty chairs: Kate, Jon, Ruth. Sadness. But the true nature of family. As one generation hits high school, the other finds the hospital and the funeral home. Gabe’s gotten taller, more lean. Jen’s now working for the school district as a systems support person, one of four for the whole Aurora district. Gabe’s a freshman at Northfield High School where Ruth is now a junior. Barb’s still living in the same senior living building where she’s been for almost ten years albeit in a smaller apartment.

We had a good conversation over the meal.

When we finished, we retired to the common room where I got the fire going again. Jen called Ruth. We spoke to her over speaker. She sounded good. I said we missed her and loved her.

They left around 6:15 and I cleaned up. A quick process with the dishwasher. Settled into rest after a long day.

Hope each of you who read this had a wonderful and warm Thanksgiving.

Colorado, Cooking, Health, Hermitage, Politics, Shadow Mountain, The West, US History

When will we ever learn?

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Samain and the Decided Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Tony’s. That tenderloin roast. Salad. Oh and that sugar cream pie. Diane’s family recipe. King Soopers. The bank. Cash money. In the pocket. Robin. Wrangling my space. Painters. Chilly nights. The mid-terms. Soil. Plants. Rock. Air. Water. Fire. Stars. Artemis I. Exploration. NASA. JPL. The days of our lives. Books. Richard Powers. CJ Box. Immodium. China. Hawai’i. Minnesota. Club Q. Pulse.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Good sleep

 

Colorado Springs. A conservative town. Where hate is fed by so called family values evangelicals. By years of GOP candidates who fed hate into the political blood stream of the city. By the US historical hatred of difference: race, gender, sexual preference.

The West was won. Sure. By killing the folks who didn’t look like the “pioneers.” And, oh yeah, the West is the original gun culture. Side arms and Remington rifles. No gun control at the OK corral. Or in Tombstone or Deadwood. I happened to be in Denver in 2012 when James Holmes went to an Aurora Theater and killed 12 people watching a late showing of a Batman movie.

An irony. The day after the Club Q shooting in Colorado Springs Colorado officially renamed Mt. Evans, Mt. Blue Sky. Why? Because Governor John Evans created the circumstances that led to the Sand Creek Massacre, a critical negative juncture in relations between First Nations peoples and the U.S. government.*

We can treat the Club Q shooting as an expression of Western values, Christian evangelical values, Republican values. As an expression of the perverted, fetishistic worship of the 2nd amendment. As an extension of the pandemic of gun violence which now features four more mass shootings since Club Q: Illinois, Mississippi, Oklahoma, Texas. 600 before Club Q in 2022. (gunviolence.org) 39,567 people have died THIS year due to some form of gun violence.

Sadly. When will we ever learn?

 

Yesterday was a busy day. After writing Ancientrails, I waited on Greg Lell to come. He’s going to be my third bid for painting the upstairs. Greg’s guy stained the house a year ago. If his bid is close to the others, I’ll take it since he proved what he can do. He told me 25% of his business comes from showing up when other painting contractors don’t. That’s the Mountains.

Worked out. Over to the bank to deposit checks, including one from Heatflo covering the cost of my dead water heater. Bought two bundles of firewood for Thanksgiving. Then over to Tony’s to see if I could get my tenderloin roast early. Yes. I could. They tied it up for me, too. I plan to dry brine it this afternoon. Made an experimental sugar cream pie. Pie crust, a deep dish, was too much otherwise. Tasty. While making sure the pie was edible for my Thanksgiving guests, I seem to have upset my digestive tract. Oh, my.

 

*On November 29, 1864, roughly 700 federal troops attacked a village of 500 Cheyenne and Arapaho on Sand Creek in Colorado. An unprovoked attack on men, women, and children, the massacre at Sand Creek marked a turning point in the relationship between American Indian tribes and the Federal Government. From the day of the attack, US Army actions at Sand Creek have been controversial, because the Cheyenne and Arapaho thought they were at peace with the government and innocent people died. The distrust that grew from what occurred at Sand Creek led to later conflicts at Little Big Horn…” NPS

 

“Colorado Governor John Evans warns that all peaceful Native Americans in the region must report to the Sand Creek reservation or risk being attacked, creating the conditions that will lead to the Sand Creek Massacre.

Evans’ offer of sanctuary was at best halfhearted. His primary goal in 1864 was to eliminate all Native American activity in eastern Colorado Territory, an accomplishment he hoped would increase his popularity and eventually win him a U.S. Senate seat. Immediately after ordering the local Native Americans to the reservation, Evans issued a second proclamation that invited white settlers to indiscriminately “kill and destroy all…hostile Indians.” At the same time, Evans began creating a temporary 100-day militia force to wage war on the Native Americans. He placed the new regiment under the command of Colonel John Chivington, another ambitious man who hoped to gain high political office by fighting Native Americans.”  History

Commentary on the news, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Hawai'i, Hermitage, Judaism, Mountains, Politics, Shadow Mountain, US History, Weather +Climate

Populists and Authoritarians

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Samain and the Decided Moon

Friday gratefuls: Stevenson Toyota. Blizzaks. Gripping the Snow. Ruby oiled, new boots, tires aligned. A sweet ride. Took her in at exactly 39,000 miles. Could use a good scrub though. Inside and out. The Mountains this morning. Trees with Frost up and down Black Mountain, Conifer Mountain. The Sun shrouded by Clouds. Shadow Mountain Drive snaking its icy way to Hwy. 73. Jackie. Chance. Kristie. Diane and Tom. Me. The Lodgepoles and Aspens.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: My good friend Kep

 

How do I feel? Joyful. How do I feel? Glad. How do I feel? Amazed. How do I feel? Stressed. How do I feel? Grateful. Leaving Shadow Mountain at 7:30 am the Mountains sparkled in filtered Sunlight. Like driving in a Christmas card. Could have seen a sleigh pulled by horses, jingling all the way. 16 degrees. Snow on the Ground. The Trees decorated on each Branch and Twig, Pine Needle and Trunk. I smiled and would have clapped my hands except you know driving.

Further down the hill the Clouds gave way to Colorado blue Sky and the Hogsback, the front edge of the Front Range, was white with last night’s Snow. Beautiful. What a beautiful, delightful place to live. Glad I’m staying. Both going down and coming back up the hill in the morning I had the good luck to follow snow plows. No dangers at 20 mph.

Handed Ruby off to Chance a Toyota advisor, got a ride to Enterprise rental and picked up a Corolla so I could come home, attend my creativity class and workout. Which I did.

After a lunch of Corn salad, Honeycrisp Apples with Peanut butter and Camembert cheese, I hopped in the Corolla and drove back down the Mountain to collect Ruby. Oiled, aligned, winter boots. Vitals checked. She’s in good health.

Drove back up the hill to Aspen Park where Jackie cut my hair and trimmed my beard. She’s such a sweetie. Ronda, too. The conversation in Aspen Roots focused on preparations for Thanksgiving. Jackie’s doing two Turkeys! 22-24 people. Whoa. We talked about things as we always do. After talking about family a bit, Jackie said, Oh, yeah. Family. The other F word. That cracked me up. So often true.

Back here on Shadow Mountain I fed Kep and came downstairs to write this.

 

Still drifting politically. Got the book Cultural Backlash in the mail yesterday. Pippa Norris and Ronald Ingelhart. I mentioned it a few days back. Pippa was on the Ezra Klein podcast last week. Got as far as definitions of populism and authoritarianism. Really odd how they so often rise up together, yet directly contradict each other. Populists want each one of the real people to have a voice, to be in control. Authoritarians want to provide security to the real people. The price? Their voice, their impact on government.