Category Archives: Shadow Mountain

Continuing the Theme of the Post Below

Winter                                                                   Cold Moon

Well. -7 in the middle of the night here and in the early a.m. As we used to say in Minnesota, “It’s going to get chilly pretty soon.” Snowfall amounts lower than anticipated. This is the first time in the last two winters I can recall a storm underperforming here on Shadow Mountain. It does make it easier to get to p.t. at 7:30 a.m.

Coloradans are conditioned in odd ways, both related to snow and to cold. Our Mussar class canceled last night. If Minnesota canceled things under similar circumstances, not a lot would happen over the winter. The cold really gets to them, too. Single digits are down-coat or stay in the house and wait it out weather. -7! Burrow. Turn up the boiler. Find that damned electric blanket. The not insignificant exception to both are, of course, the many skiers who live here, including Jon who has his ski boots out by the door this morning. Snow day!

The reason for these attitudes is a prevailing belief, usually correct, that if it snows today, it will melt tomorrow. Or, if not then, the next day, thanks to the solar snow shovel. The cold is a bit more complicated. Here in the mountains if you’re in the sun, even on a cold day, you heat up pretty fast. If you move into the shade? Temps plummet. So, if the overall temperature is what you might find in the shade on a cold day, well, things have gotten pretty bad.

Don’t know whether we’ll get plowed or not. Here, before you go to the trouble of blowing or plowing a driveway, you look at the weather forecast. If, as in the next few days, temps will hit high forties, low fifties on sunny days, then clearing the snow is not a requirement. It does help, of course, and if my knee were done healing, I’d probably get out and clear this one.

Brother Mark’s road journey continues, speaking of temperatures. He left Bangkok a couple of days ago after his visa expired. He’s now in Phnom Penh, Cambodia where it’s 82 with 73% humidity.

Negative. Good.

Winter                                                    Cold Moon

Kate’s endoscopy is over with gratifyingly negative results. The GI doc was a right jolly old elf with white hair and a belly that shook like a bowl full of jelly. Swedish Hospital, where the procedure was done, is an old hospital, built in multiple oddly connected buildings of different ages. Some are brick, some the same tired modernist shtick that infests elementary schools. Overall the mood is mildly depressing.

Swedish is in Lakewood, the first ‘burb in the Denver metro after we leave the mountains headed east on Hwy. 285. Its massive ongoing construction, buildings separated from each other and a general confusion about what goes where, makes their offering valet parking a very nice gesture.

This one had Kate worried. Not me, but it wasn’t my alimentary canal being scoped either.

After Kate woke up, she got dressed and asked that I drive further east on Hampden (also 285) to the New York Deli. There we picked up a half gallon of CNS, one huge matzo ball and a pastrami sandwich. We turned back west on Hwy 285 and made our way out of the Mile High City and into the foothills, then the Front Range.

Each time we leave the Denver metro and head home into the mountains, one of us says, “I love living in the mountains.” Kate said it today. As we climbed into Conifer, flakes of snow began spitting around us, not much, but a reminder of the bigger winter storm scheduled to hit us tomorrow and Thursday.

As the storm comes, we have plenty of CNS and leftover pastrami sandwich to see us through. New York Deli has come to the mountains.

 

 

The Year of the Absent December

Winter                                                         Cold Moon

lionTwo good friends, Allison and Tom, have recommended I see Lion, on my list for this week, especially now that I’m mobile, both on foot and behind the wheel. Yes, the knee is becoming much less painful though strength and stamina will take a while to regain. Not sure whether it’s the drug cocktails I’ve been taking or what, but sleep has become a precious commodity again, not easily found in batches long enough to feel rested. Ick.

2016 will be year of the absent December for me. My 20161203_083526surgery was December 1st and much of the first two weeks + I spent in a narcotic haze. Or so Kate tells me. The remainder of the month has been physical therapy and figuring out how to manipulate the meds so they help me rather than hurt me. Not an easy task.

The good part was having the grandkids here for most of Hanukkah. When Kate and I returned them to Jen yesterday, Ruth came back to the car to say goodbye to me. We touched hands and she smiled, a furtive lightning of her face. I said, “Remember what I told you about your audition.” (that I have faith in you) She said she remembered. This is her audition for the Denver School of the Arts. She presents her portfolio and sits for an interview.

Kate after election day
Kate after election day

Next big medical event is Kate’s endoscopy tomorrow. This is a follow-up on an occult blood finding, so it could have serious implications, though I’m not expecting them. I have physical therapy at 7:15 a.m., then we head down the hill on 285 to Swedish Hospital for a 9 a.m. procedure.

A sequelae of the absent December is waking up from it to a New Year. What will I do in 2017? Will it be continuous with the first two years here? Or, will I rethink it all, maybe reshuffle the deck one more time? I’m leaning toward the latter. There will be Superior Wolf, yes. There will be workouts, yes. There will Beth Evergreen. There will, I decided yesterday, be Latin. I’m picking that project up again beginning this week. But, beyond those and how those fit with other potentials? I don’t know. I do know that taking a big insult to my physicality, even for a good cause, has got me in a contemplative mood, wondering, once again, about how life fits together.

The Holidays

Winter                                                                   Cold Moon

20161229_161534The grandkids have been here since December 23rd, with the exception of one day. That means a full house, lots of zigging and zagging. Adding Hanukkah to the mix leaves empty boxes, unfurled wrapping paper and gifts cluttered in the living room. Lots of watches this holiday: Ruth, Gabe, Kate all got watches. Too. There were legos, several games like Pandemic, Mexican Train, Rock of Archimedes, Mille Bourne, an assortment of clothing items like socks, ski jackets, t-shirts and the odd book or dvd.

While their presence here is a blessing and one of the really good things to happen as a result of the divorce, it gets pretty stressful with five people in the house, two under 11. Not to mention that Kate has had a wounded me to care for, in addition to the other work she does for the grandkids like laundry and cooking. We will miss them when they leave tomorrow, but both of us will require some time to decompress and get back to our usual, slower old folk rhythms.

20161229_161617_001Gabe enjoys the dogs, sometimes too much. Yesterday he squeaked and squeaked and squeaked a nerf football at Kepler. Eventually, Kepler told him to stop that. He did.

Ruth and Jon went skiing again yesterday, a wonderful warm day with reasonable numbers of folks at A-Basin even though it was New Year’s weekend. Ruth loves to help. She offers to get the mail, feed the dogs, help make supper, buy presents. And then does just that.

Her audition for the Denver School of the Arts is January 7th. She has an hour before an admissions committee. By herself. At age 10. She has a portfolio of work she’s done, a lot of work, much of it prints. That weekend I’m going to take her to this place, The Inventing Room. She’s been there and loves its emphasis on nitrogen fixing of food.

The knee. So much better now. Still achy, but not bad. Biggest problem now is that it still interrupts my sleep. My workouts for p.t. are a lot of bending the knee, straightening the leg, strengthening muscles that support the knee. I have to do 3 sets. Since my p.t. is scheduled at 7:30 a.m., I’ve shifted my workout from the afternoon to the mornings. I’ll likely keep it there since it’s much cooler then in the summer.

 

 

 

P.T. and Hanukkah

Winter                                                             Cold Moon

Katie, my physical therapist, is young, only a year and a half into her career. She’s thin and a somewhat recent transplant from Florida. Colorado and its mountains, its snow, even its trout streams are her playground. She went snowshoeing on Hoosier Pass yesterday, the road from Fairplay goes over Hoosier Pass to Breckenridge. It’s high, you can access altitude above the tree line. She did, being out there “a few hours.” Afterwards, she said, she fished. Fly fishing. Which she took up a year ago with classes and a membership in Trout Unlimited.

She tells me my flexion and extension are remarkable. She says, too, that the stiffness and achiness that I have is typical. “It’s not scar tissue or anything else like that, it’s the body’s reaction to the surgery. It will pass. You’re doing very well.” That was nice to hear.

As the day winds down and night falls, the knee begins to kick out pain again. Feeling better, I’m going up and downstairs more often, walking more, generally putting the knee to work. By day’s end it’s tired of the effort and says, “Slow down. Stop.”

We’re on the sixth night of Hanukkah, many candles have burned to get us here. Lots of wrapping paper and delighted squeals. Opened boxes litter the coffee table and the couch, gift sign. Ruth got skins for her skis today. These get put on skis when you want to go up the mountain, rather than down. Gabe got Pokemon cards and a sketch book.

Hanukkah requires some discipline, apportioning presents so there are some left for the end of the 8 days. Jon enforces a strict two-present openings a night rule for both kids. Kate recites the Hanukkah blessing in Hebrew while Ruth and Gabe try to follow along.

Our three generation household runs pretty smoothly in spite of the usual sibling rivalry.

Rambling

Winter                                                       Cold Moon

When I worked for the church, the days between Christmas and New Years were an enforced break. No church wanted Presbytery executives in that time frame, everyone was coming down from the Advent, Christmas Eve, Christmas push. I took to using the time for research, usually on one topic. In those days it was organizational development, urban politics, a political issue coming to prominence, matters related directly, in some way, to my work.

This might be a way to use this enforced down time. Until the knee pain goes away and I’ve returned to a more normal routine, I could use the time to research a given topic. Not sure what yet, but something will occur to me.

Realized the other day that I’ve gone from an office halfway underground in Andover to a second story loft on a mountain. The Andover house was a walkout. The basement was open to the outside on two sides and built into the earth in front. Here on Shadow Mountain I look out at Black Mountain to the west and can see the sunsets. In Andover I saw sunrises.

Weary of the whole pain, stiffness thing. I know it’s part of the healing process. I know it’s going to recede and eventually vanish. Yet yesterday it got to me. Too damned long with a painful knee, reminded of its presence at every step, every sitting and rising. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t get comfortable sitting or lying. Next morning now and I got some sleep last night so feeling better.

 

Not Snowed

Winter                                                New (Cold) Moon

Though our Shadow Mountain winter has had little snow so far, west of the continental divide has had substantial storms. Snowpack is at 115% of normal. Important for us in Colorado and nine other states. These storms have also put snow on ski resort runs, already late in their opening.

Jon and Ruth skied A-Basin yesterday. She wore a new winter coat received the night before for Hanukkah. Jon fell and whacked his head, torqued his neck, but fortunately no concussion, no broken bones. They both remarked on the high winds up slope. “They take the fun right out of it.”

The snow here will continue melting under moderately warm upcoming weather. No big snowstorms in the forecast either. So far, very slow.

I drove for the first time a couple of days ago. Weaned off the narcotics. Felt good. Trouble sleeping. Still have aches in the knee, can’t figure out a good drug regimen. Of course, I had trouble sleeping pre-op, too. I might be returning to my usual sleep challenged life.

Illness and Recovery

Winter                                            Moon of the Winter Solstice

The ancientrail of illness and recovery continues here on Shadow Mountain. Yesterday it brought an unusual moment, a highly emotional tidal wave crashing through my early Christmas morning consciousness.

The immediate trigger was, I think, the pile of Hanukkah presents on the coffee table beside me. The Christmas spirit that still flows around this secular, pagan heart saw them. And rejected the moment. What followed was a period of dislocation, the closest analogy I can give is culture shock.

What was I doing in this house with this holiday underway? Mom, Dad, Mary and Mark rose up. I missed them all, a lot. Further the friends from Minnesota. Why was I here in cold Colorado, in the mountains, when my family and friends were dead or far away?

The logic of these feelings did not account for Kate, who worked the New York Times crossword across the room. Nor did it account for Jon, Ruth and Gabe. Nor the dogs. These were dramatic, histrionic feelings, slouching toward despair and isolation and loneliness. I cried for the distance I felt from the house, from my life here.

In talking with Kate about this later in the day she offered an interesting perspective. After my Minnesota trip in September, I began to forego my workouts which had become too painful. The decision to replace the knee had been made not long  before that trip. Oddly, at some point the act of sitting became painful which made using the computer in the loft all but impossible.

Then on December 1st I had knee surgery. Since then, 3 weeks plus, I’ve lived with pain and meds, often so disoriented that I lost track of sentences midway.

Kate thinks I may have lost my self. The self that cut down the trees, cut up the slash. The self that writes. The self that hikes. The self that engages easily with the world. That self was lost in the last few months, diminished, then vanished. The journey from the trauma of surgery to healing and beyond has displaced at least my sense of self.

All this came to a confluence yesterday. Still not sure what to make of it though the crying felt cleansing. I’ve not had the same feelings since then.

The Morn

Winter                                                            Moon of the Winter Solstice

twas-the-night-before-christmas-a-visit-from-st-nicholas-by-clement-c-moore-with-pictures-by-jessie-willcox-smith-published-1912-3Christmas. Today. Right now the electricity of children twirling in their beds after a sleepless night, the clatter of little feet racing down stairs, bleary eyed parents waking up, wondering why all of this has to happen so early in the morning cause psychic vibrations to pulse through the country, hitting even the top of Shadow Mountain. If they were lit, they would put the northern lights to shame.

It’s sweet in its way though there is a slight tinge, ok maybe not slight, of greed, of concupiscence being lodged in innocent hearts. This morning I’m traveling with the innocence of wonder and hope and pleasure, the sounds heard through the night of reindeer on the roof, some sort of clattering in the chimney or on the stairs or in the elevator shaft. As I do, I realize this is a true aspect of American culture, not practiced by all Americans to be sure, but enough that the magic of Christmas morning is a part of us we all recognize.

druid santa
druid santa

While it happens elsewhere, up here on Shadow Mountain we woke up to a light dusting of snow, a cloudy sky and the dying crescent of the winter solstice moon occluded, but partially visible. It would not surprise, in this mood, to see a long string of reindeer push up above black mountain, a victorian sleigh attached and a jolly old elf holding the reigns. I would be pleased in fact.

Whatever the inner push that moves you this morning, take a moment to drink in the flavor of this old family holiday, so disconnected from the notion of incarnation, but not too far from pagan joy in the evergreen tree and its brave lights.

Chilly

Samain                                              Moon of the Winter Solstice

Woke up this morning to a text from Tom Crane. He lives in the western Twin Cities’ suburb of Shorewood. It was, he said, -20. Now that’s getting chilly. Up here we started out at zero, but hit 28 later in the day. The solar snow shovel is hard at work. Yeah.

Due to my delicate condition we hired a snow plow guy, Ted. Ted moved here from Ames, Iowa, the closest town to Nevada where Kate grew up. Weird. He came early yesterday, did a great job.

I’m looking forward the next couple of weeks because I’ll begin to get up to the loft. December and January are my finishing touches months. Hang art. Make sure all bookshelves are organized. Get standard file holders for my shelves of files. Get the tea going, all things that have been waiting, I want to see them finished.

The grandkids come on the 21st, the Winter Solstice. With a short break we’ll have them through New Years. A strong family inflection to the end of the year. It feels appropriate.

Due to the pain and the drugs I’ve had less thinking time than I imagined. Not a bad thing, just a surprise. What I have had is an intense couple of weeks with my body and its limits. Being focused and present to my body has been a good thing. I probably don’t take as much of that kind of time as would be helpful.

Kate has had four days of sleeping and resting though today she ventured out shopping. Crazy, she said. She’s my beauty, my strength.

Anyhow, to all of you, happy holidays.