Category Archives: Judaism

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Luke’s

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Imbolc and the Valentine Moon

Sunday gratefuls: An open heart. The joy that sits next to sadness. Tu BiShvat. The new year of the trees. Luke. Leo. Those construction folks. The one from Texas. The bald guy and the old man. Zoom. Manna. The Red Sea as birth imagery. The sabbath. Judaism. Mary back in the frozen tundra. Sayonara, Kobe. Mark in OKC. Kep. Kate, always Kate. Early rising. Pappadeaux’s with Ruth and Gabe tonight. A Cajun 76th birthday meal.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Feelings

 

On Friday night I drove into Lakewood for dinner with Luke, the former Executive Director of Congregation Beth Evergreen. He’s a good friend. When I copied his address I added an S in front of Ames St. That gave me the opportunity to see more of Lakewood than I intended. Sheridan runs north and south through Lakewood and I accessed it off of Hwy 285, turning north. The city limit between Denver and Lakewood.

The west side of Denver is heavily Latino as is the east side of Lakewood. The houses are small. The lots close together. Pickup trucks in most driveways. Spanish a second and often first language on storefronts. This was around 4 pm and Sheridan had the full city traffic experience to offer. Blinking turn signals, horns, and about halfway to Luke’s a huge red metal Mexican guitar on a sign that said Westwood. On the Denver side.

Luke had called and warned me of logistical issues. True. A new gas main project had a trench dug for seven blocks, including his. At one point I needed to make a left turn onto Colfax, old highway 40, and a main thoroughfare through Denver and beyond.

I was having no luck and just contemplating a right hand turn, then crossing three lanes of traffic so I could make a u-turn later. A bald headed guy came from behind me and said, “Wait, old man.” He got out into traffic and tried to create a space for me so I could cross the stopped traffic. A guy in a white pickup refused to back up the 6 feet or so I needed. Don’t know why.

Finally got Ruby’s nose in, wiggled her through, and the bald guy stood in the oncoming lane with his hand out stopping cars so I could turn. Gratitude. Although. Old man? I mean, how he did know I turn 76 on Tuesday?

Took me a while even after that to get to Luke’s and when I did I had to park on one side of the trench. And walk over it. The construction workers were gracious, kind and guided me through.

Dinner with Luke, who’s Italian, was eggplant Parmesan. His favorite food since 5th grade. I brought Italian bread and a salad. Leo, his mostly German Shepherd dog, is ten years old and as sweet a dog as you could wish for.

Luke had a tough exit from CBE. We talked about that and what he plans going forward. He may have found a very well paying part time gig with Judaism Your Way, another reconstructionist effort in South Denver. No synagogue. Gatherings for holidays at Denver’s Botanical Gardens. Not sure what else.

His path since leaving the Materials Science Ph.D at Colorado School of Mines has found him doing computer work for a non-profit, converting to Judaism, becoming CBE’s executive director, and now perhaps turning toward Tarot and Astrology to round out his income. Things, he said, I love.

After dinner he pulled three cards from the Druid Oracle deck: Mint, Woad, and a Hawk. We discussed my sadness and the way forward in light of those cards. Encouraged and supported by him and by his reading.

He walked me to the gate. We hugged, said I love you, and I went back across the trench.

Aging, Commentary on the news, Cooking, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Great Work, Jefferson County, Judaism, Mountains, Plants, Politics, Shadow Mountain, US History

It was a lynching

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Winter and the Valentine Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Hot Water. My shower. Marilyn and Irv. Ageism. Aspen Perk. Aspen Park Dental. Darlene, the hygienist. Seeing the Magpies against the Snow as I sat in the dental chair. Clean teeth. Good gum health. No work needed. Yes. Grocery pickup. Home. Brined center cut porkchops. Cooked in the Air fryer. Mixed vegetables. Tangerine. Mary’s photos of her last days in Kobe. Eau Claire. Air travel. Sarah and Annie. The Jeep.

Sparks of joy and awe: Friends and family

 

A note I sent to my county commissioner, Lesley Dahlkemper, about a proposed Mountain bike park on Shadow Mountain Drive:

Hi, Lesley!

Met you at Marilyn Saltzman’s 70th birthday party. Before you became a commissioner. Congratulations!

I live on Black Mtn Drive. Up the hill about 2 miles from the proposed mtn bike park. Aside from the obvious degradation of a mountain side and a beautiful, clear running stream and aside from the obvious traffic nightmare on already difficult to navigate blind curves and narrow no shoulders Shadow Mountain Drive, I’d like to tell you about a 7 AM drive I took that passed by the bike park area.

There in that meadow were thirty cow Elks and one magnificent bull, a fourteen pointer. A mist was rising from Shadow Brook. Now that may not be a logical argument against the bike park, but it’s damn sure a good one to me.

 

Tyre Nichols. Still think the role of police in our culture doesn’t need drastic and dramatic change? Tainted by the power given to them by a frightened white majority the police live out the violent fantasies of those at home watching TV. Their color does not matter. What matters is their intent, their willingness to step well beyond the bounds of decency. Remember Derek Chauvin’s knee? One of the officers who stood by was Hmong. The others who stood and watched? Rodney King?

Tom Crane found an interesting interview with Rev. Dante Stewart. His words on lynching are worth sharing:

“That was more than police brutality. That was a lynching. They wanted to kill him because, in some sense, lynching is about the spectacle. It’s about what someone with power does to another human being to ride and rid them of every ounce of their dignity and put it in the public to show this is what we think about this person.

“When those in the past put Black people up on noose, it was a message to them: This is our estimation of your life, and much more, this is our hatred of your life. And when Tyre Nichols was beaten and the just immense disregard to him, it showed us in public once again the estimation of Black life, white racism and white supremacy.”  WBUR

This sort of action by the police reimagines the whip of the plantation slave master. Sanctioned violence to keep the enslaved in place. We still fear the emboldened and empowered other. What might they do to us? What to do? Do it to them first.

 

On a better note, also from Tom. On Kernza Grain. “I just came across this perennial grain developed by the Land Institute. I also ordered some from a site which sells it as a cereal much like oatmeal. I’ll let you know how it is.”

The Land Institute is a solution finder. Glad Tom found this product, the first commercial fruits of the Institute’s work. I’ll let you know what he thinks.

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Acting, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Judaism, Korea, Mussar, Travel, Woolly Mammoths

New Labs

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Winter and the Valentine Moon

Sunday gratefuls: The Ancient Brothers. Alan. Housing matters cleared up. Mostly. Ron. Luke. Bread Lounge. Evergreen. The ice fisherfolk on Lake Evergreen. The 8 outdoor ice hockey rinks on it. Those 30 or so Elk hanging out. The drive down. Rocks. Mountains. Ice covered Streams. Lodgepole Pines. Ponderosa. Aspen. Chinook Salmon toast and that Dulce le Lecha croissant. Coffee.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Jew with Guns

 

Going to Evergreen Players today to see one-act plays directed by Tal’s last directing class as an employee of Evergreen Players. Alan has one in the showcase. Ron Solomon’s coming, too. Looking forward to that. A matinee. That magic word in my world of the performing arts.

Ron sat down with Alan and me at the Bread Lounge yesterday morning. He’s a screenwriter cum entrepreneur. He was part of the writer’s room for Saved By the Bell, but he didn’t like L.A. He wrote a book about Navy Seals published three or four years ago. Now he’s running a company that helps wholesalers make sure their retail prices hold up in the marketplace.

Ron’s also in the MVP group. He’s a very smart guy. Been around CBE for  years. He mentioned that later in the day he and Dan Herman, past president of the Synagogue, had an appointment at a gun range in Golden with a group called Jews with Guns. I’m not getting on a train. The Synagogue shooting in Pittsburgh pushed him over the edge.

I told them that if it came to it I’d get a rifle and help them defend the Synagogue. Friends are worth dying for. Family, too. A silly misadventure in Vietnam dreamed up by anti-communist old white men? Not so much. I’m no pacifist. Though Kate was. Thorough going. Miss her.

Alan’s house is sold. He was going home to pack after breakfast. They close on both deals next week. Move in February. Glad for him. Moving stresses. Not easy.

 

Glad I dropped back to learn Hangul. Still working at it, but when I get done learning Korean will be easier. Hope to get over there for a month next October. Though. CBE’s got an Israel trip planned at the same time. Always wanted to see Israel. This could be a good opportunity. Will clarify as we get closer.

 

The what will I pay for my cancer drugs circus still has its tent up. No word yet on the foundation the nice lady from McKesson told me about. I’ll have to pick up some more Erleada samples if I don’t get a call before Tuesday afternoon when I see Kristie.

Good news though. PSA still undetectable. Lab results came early this morning. Testosterone at 11. Low testosterone is 287 at which point fatigue becomes a factor. Alan’s getting his testosterone boosted for that reason. As for me. Well, I tire easily. But. My cancer doesn’t get its food. That’s the concept.

 

Ancient Brothers topic this morning is space. The space between and among us. Is it too far? Too close? Mussar has a lot to say about this.

 

 

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Judaism, Mussar

Salvage. Catastrophic.

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Winter and the Wolf Moon

Friday gratefuls: The Assistance Fund. Bridgette. Urology Associates. Bond and Devick. Rich. Muddy Buck. Cancer. Bureaucracy. Government and private. Kep the unsteady. Jon, a memory and a hurdle. David, his father. Shirley, his step-mother. Jen. Friends. The staff of life. Coming home to the Mountains. Curvy roads. Snow. Lodgpepole and Aspens. Black Mountain. Climbing Shadow Mountain on Shadow Mountain Drive. The pregnant Mule Deer Doe that crossed my path on the way to Evergreen this morning.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: the pregnant Mule Deer Doe, life in its wonder

 

Well. Somewhat better news. Still. So. I pay the full copays this month, around $3,000. That tips me over into catastrophic drug coverage. My portion goes to 5% or about $850 a month. Right now that’s the best deal I can get.

However. The Assistance Fund might pick me up again sometime during the year. If they do, they’ll backdate my account and repay me for all my expenses. Fingers crossed on this one. I’m on a long wait phone line right now to discover how my situation looks.

This is the problem with charity and philanthropy. Haven’t been on this end of it before. If things change or the funder decides on different priorities, no appeal, and as in this instance no notice. Just gone. We can’t count on the wealthiest among us to share our values or recognize our needs. That’s what government is for.

Erleada and Orgovyx. Salvage therapy. This charming term refers to all therapies given after the hope of a cure falls away. After the prostatectomy and the radiation failed to cure me, I landed in salvage land. In order to get my salvage therapy cost down I have to get into catastrophic coverage in my insurance plan.

Had to get an urgent cash infusion to cover the first month’s copay. Paying that should do the trick to put me in a drug cost catastrophe. If my position on the waitlist ends up getting funded, I’ll be made whole. No promises. No way of knowing. Just pay and wait.

Due to this problem I got kicked off McKesson Pharmaceutical’s account list. Result: Doc has to represcribe. Which means probably Monday at the earliest. Then a shipment has to get here. Good thing Urology Associates fronted me some samples. I should be able to cover the gap between the time all of this gets processed and a new shipment comes to my door.

 

Had a great breakfast with Rich this morning. He’s teaching a new course on applied philosophy and the Constitution at the School of Mines. Here’s a link to his syllabus. A smart guy. Obv. Also my lawyer. Estate planning and Jon’s probate.

We click intellectually and decided to meet more often. Maybe every two weeks.

Breakfast at the Muddy Buck in the tourist part of Evergreen. On our way out Rich greeted a guy he told me was a movie star from Evergreen. A former Seal who had a role in the movie Act of Valor. It might have been his story. I forget right now. A mammoth guy with lots of tattoos. and a Yeti t-shirt on.

 

Feelings, Health, Mussar

What? Anger.

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Winter and the Wolf Moon

Thursday gratefuls: The Ancient Brothers. Cancer. Co-pays. High anxiety. Workouts. Kep the unsteady. Oh, man. Fear. Box breathing. Numbness. Rock. Deer Creek Canyon. Its consolation. Kate’s holy Valley. Kate’s creek. Need her today. Big Pharma. Big problems. Shadow Mountain. The Hermitage. Herme. Jon, a memory. Ruth. Gabe, the Legomaniac. Northfield High.

Sparks of joy and awe: The Sun

Correction: Ruth’s school has allowed her to make up her work in the two classes I mentioned. Glad for that.

 

Big news today. Yikes! Just got off the phone with McKesson pharmacy. Source of Orgovyx and Erleada, my two prostate cancer drugs. The Assistance fund has exhausted its money for prostate cancer. Oh? Your co-pays are now $800 a month for the Orgovyx and $2,000 a month for the Erleada. What?! The. Hell.

Had a shipment supposed to arrive today. I have two Orgovyx left. A bit more Erleada. Maybe a week. McKesson has faxed my doc forms for me to be added to the pharmaceutical company’s assistance plan. In this instance then the company will dispense my drugs.

This causes me some anxiety. Managing it with box breathing. By calling my doc. By writing this. Still. Stunned. Unsure. Uncertain what will come.

So many cancer patients have the same trouble. Fighting a terminal disease and insurance and big pharma. There is something wrong with this at a root level. Can you help me? Yes. But it’s gonna cost you. What if I can’t pay? Well. Buh bye then.

Not surprised. Not really. That this has happened right now. Today. Yes. But that there would come a kink in the system. No. A sad commentary on the state of medicine in our wealthy, wealthy country. Wonder if Bezos or Musk could shoot me a check?

This will occupy my day until it’s sorted. If it can be.

 

Anger. MVP last night. Some thought anger comes from fear. We agreed it rises up. I admit I don’t understand emotions. How and why they come. But they sure do. My anxiety above has an obvious trigger. Glad I’ve spent a lot of time on how to cope with anxiety. Anger though?

Before I went to sleep I came up with this idea. Anger comes when something or someone assaults my values. Then. Thinking as an anthropologist. What adaptive advantage does anger hold? Might be like joking behavior. Who and what you laugh at can identify the cultures or subcultures to which you belong. If you’re a Swede, you might make Norwegian or Finnish jokes. If you’re a Northerner. Jokes about Southerners. Southerners. About Yankees. So on.

It could be the same with anger. Those things which make you angry can identify the culture or subculture to which you belong. If seeing the Confederate flag flown from a pickup truck bed makes you boil? Probably a liberal Northerner. Obama in the Whitehouse. Probably a white supremacist. If you believe your spouse has belittled you and you get angry? The underlying value is self-worth. A challenge to it.

If you took a community and recorded every instance of anger for a week, I think you could identify the various solidarity groups in the community with ease. Shared values = shared anger. And anger means those values have been belittled or scorned.

A passing thought.

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Dutiful

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Winter and the Wolf Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Breakfast with Jen, Ruth, Gabe, Barb. Driving back up the hill. F1. The MIA. The Walker. The docent program. My many years there with good friends and art. Acting class. Creativity class. Origins of North America. Finding the volume of a Mountain. Korean. Pruning moving forward. Interior painting, early February. Probate. Still moving. slow. ly. The Good Life. Scott and Helen Nearing. Eudaimonia. Kristen Gonzalez. Psoriasis. Mark and the USPS. Mary in Kobe. Ancient Brothers.

Sparks of joy and awe: Eudaimonia

 

Human flourishing. Eudaimonia. Satisfaction. More important than happiness. Duty is just another word for cultural norms received and accepted. Obligations. On the other hand. Imposed. Why do we do what we do?

Assessing the life that is neither heroic nor mediocre. Since that’s where most of us end up. No need to measure ourselves against the ends of the bell curve. No need to measure ourselves. But can we be at peace with a life without comparisons?

As for me, I choose eudaimonia. Flourishing. Satisfaction. And, yes. Duty plays a role. Family. Sacrifice. Friends too. Being there. Wherever love is, there is duty. To be honest. Sincere. Kind. Helpful. To support the best for the other. Right down to the end. And by implication to support the best for yourself. Also, duty. The unexamined life is not worth living. Yes. A duty to yourself to know thyself. And to thy own known Self be true.

 

What’s interesting for me right now is how much a sense of duty has played in my life. Oh, no! The original oppositional defiant guy admitting to a sense of duty. I who even rebel against my superego. You can’t make me!!! Yes, duty.

A minor yet significant example. As a convinced feminist of the Betty Friedan/Simone de Beauvoir second wave. At the age of 26. In seminary. Went to the Rice Street Clinic late on a Winter afternoon. A scalpel I felt on the first cut slashed my vas deferens on both sides. Shutting down sperm from my testicles. Being responsible for my own contraception.

Another. One I’ve mentioned before. Fits here. No. I don’t want a Johns-Manville full scholarship to college. Managing people in a large corporation is not me. Will never be me. High school.

Once convinced of Vietnam’s sturdiness as a nation, one that had held back China for over 3,000 years. No. I will not fight, nor support that war.

After reading a convincing study about the future job prospects for Ph.D.’s. No to graduate school.

Family. Staying in the fire with Jon. Ruth. Gabe. Kate in later life. Mark. Yet also. Cut your hair or leave! Leaving.

These may not at first reading seem like duty. But they are. A duty to myself, to my own understanding of how to be present in the world.

When I realized Ruth and Gabe needed us in Colorado. Broaching the idea of a move. Kate on board. Following through.

Those two and a half acres in Andover. Leaving them better than when we bought them. How? Working it out with Kate over the years. Together. Staying the course with the full cycle of responsibilities throughout the year. Each year.

And, dogs. Living into their lives. With them from puppyhood to death. Oh. Sweet duty. Painful duty. Life realized in full.

Cooking, Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Hermitage, Music, Mussar, Shadow Mountain

Gloomy inner weather

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Winter and the Wolf Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Safeway pickup. Safeway pharmacy. Urology Associates. Prostate cancer. Metastases. Erleada. Orgovyx. The Post Office. Kep, who finds his way. Slowly. Diane. Tom. Interlocutors. Alan. Tomorrow. The Ancient Brothers. Early rising. 5:30 am. Omicron booster. Writing over a thousand words a day. How To Become A Pagan and Ancientrails. Snow on its way. Dropping temperatures. My new weather station.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Erleada, keeping the metastases in check.

 

Read the clinical notes of my radiation oncologist, Dr. Simpson. Starts out: patient with metastatic prostate cancer. Not sure why but it nicked me this time. That phrase. Especially metastatic. That’s me. I have a cancer that has metastasized. A bit later I got the bill for the P.E.T. scan. $1,000 bucks. Then, tried to roll up the rug in my new home office. Too much. I’d waited too late in the day. Result: gloomy mental weather.

After that I went to Safeway. Pushed outside my comfort zone ( my mussar practice this month) and went inside to get an omicron booster and pick up a prescription for a drug that had run out early. You have to make an appointment for a booster. I didn’t have to the last time. We’ve always done it this way. I’m here; can’t you just go ahead? No. Sigh. Got in line, 8 people. When I got there. Can’t fill it. Your insurance company says not till January 2nd. Well, fuck it.

So much for pushing past the comfort zone. By the time I got home with my groceries. Which I was able to accomplish. In a funk. Box breathing. Unclench jaw. Damn it. None of this is a big deal. Well, the cancer. Yeah. But that’s not new.

Made myself some eggs, sopped them up with French bread. Righted the ship after a no good, but not really very bad day.

I write this to illustrate how easy it is to get off course with a nick here, a nick there. Good to have some tools. Forgot the How do I feel exercise. But. I did do notice five things. A traffic sign. The Grass. Conifer High School. The pavement. Lovely clouds. And my version of box breathing. Breathe in four counts. Hold for seven. Blow out for eight. Repeat. Activates the vagus nerve. And, take some action. Made myself dinner. Calmed down.

Chesed. Loving kindness. Not just for the other. For yourself as well. Equanimity is a middah, too. Bringing oneself back into balance. I try to remember to show compassion for myself when I get in these spots. Don’t always remember because the feelings, the downer ones, can dominate. For a while. I also try to bring myself back into balance, realize the context, get a perspective on my mood. Can take as long as a day. Sometimes only a few minutes. Yesterday was in between.

This drag happens much less these days. Hardly at all. Yet. When the blues strike ya, you gotta do somethin’.

 

Which reminds me. If you haven’t seen the Muscle Shoals documentary on Netflix, I recommend it. Highly. A small town in Alabama with a big influence on popular music. Who recorded there? Percy Sledge. Wilson Pickett. Aretha Franklin. The Rolling Stones. Duane Allman. Lynyrd Skynyryd. Bob Dylan. Bono. Etta James. Clarence Carter. Bobby Gentry. Kris Kristofferson. Steve Winwood and Traffic. Alabama. Paul Anka. Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel. Bob Seger. Leon Russel. Otis Redding. Rod Stewart. And a whole lot of others.

Worth it for the inspiration.

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So much to see. To learn.

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Winter and the Wolf Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: 8 years in Colorado. On the Solstice. The long dog ride with Tom. Memories. Challenges. Family. Death. Divorce. Mental and physical illnesses. Beauty. The Rocky Mountains. The Wild Neighbors. Mountain hiking. Deep snow. Sudden. Then, suddenly gone. Living at altitude. Becoming a member of CBE. Elk and Mule Deer visiting our back. Blue Skies. Black Mountain. Vega. Gertie. Rigel. Kep. Kate, always Kate. Who loved the Mountains.

Sparks of joy and awe: That dog ride 8 years ago. Talking story.

 

Back of the car anthropology. Two vanity plates. YAHWEHS. ODACIOUS. The first on a jet black fancy Audi. The other on a Lexus sedan. Also. Stickers. I heart Aging and Dying. No baby on board. Feel free to ram me. Toyoda. With yoda ears on the T and the a. I love the way we express ourselves on the back of our vehicles. So revealing. Full disclosure. I have a large decal of Lake Superior on the back window of Ruby. And, an ADL Dissent is Patriotic on a side window. There are too the cars seemingly held together by stickers like the occupants got started on the project and just. couldn’t. stop.

 

On December 20th, 2014 Tom Crane and I loaded Rigel, Vega, and Kep in Ivory. All three trazodoned. Tom drove straight through. We talked the whole way. Talking story. The conversation continues now, eight years later. Gertie rode with Kate in the rental van filled with stuff we didn’t want the movers to take. I remember Kate telling me she bought Gertie a hamburger at one of their stops. A satisfied dog.

These have not been easy years. No. They have been fulfilling, satisfying years though. Deep intimacy between Kate and me, especially as she began her long decline. Putting cancer in the chronic illness box. Being here for the kids and Jon after the divorce. Now for Ruth and Gabe after Jon’s death. Becoming part of the CBE community. Making friends. Learning from the ancient civilization of the Jews. Kabbalah. The Torah. Mussar. Talmud. Mitzvahs.

The Wild Neighbors. The Mountains. The Streams. The hiking. Mountain adjustments. Four Seasons. Eight Seasons. The Mountain Fall. Golden Aspens. Against green Lodgepoles. Black Mountain punctuated with gold, then green. Snow flocked in Winter. Wildflowers in the Mountain Spring. Fawns. Kits. Cubs. Elk and Moose Calves. The long Summers. Beautiful in their own right, yet also angsty with the ever present threat of Wildfire.

Living here has been, is an adventure. In relationships. In deep learning. An immersion in the world of Mountains. After the world of Lakes and Rivers and rich Soil.

So much more to see. To learn.

 

Visited Carmax yesterday. The Jeep. Prepared to sell it, then Uber home. A first for me. But. Can’t take a North Carolina power of attorney. Colorado makes it difficult. Do you want me to get you the necessary papers? Yes. Talked to Sarah while the nice lady in the blue Carmax smock did that. Took fifteen minutes. Many pieces of paper. Post it notes. Sign here stickers. OK. Thanks. Back up the hill.

 

Got two calendars as presents.  Aimed at different parts of me. A Zen Calendar from Tom. A New Yorker Cartoons calendar from Sarah and Jerry. Yep. I recognize both of those guys as resident within me. Wonderful to be seen.

 

 

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How to Become a Pagan

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Winter and the Wolf Moon*

Friday gratefuls: Colorado reintroduces Wolves 2024. Wolves. Mountain Lions. Bears: Black and Grizzly. Minx. Pine Martens. Wolverines. Lynx. Bobcats. Owls. Eagles. Osprey. Peregrine Falcons. Kestrels. Our fellow predators of the Rocky Mountains. Hanukah. The Nights of December. Christmas Eve. Christmas. New Years. Yule. This dark and celebratory time of year. Saturnalia. Diane. Jenny. Mark and his two jobs. Gabe and his legos. Ruth in Colorado Springs. Tomorrow with her.

Sparks of joy and awe: The Wolves of Minnesota

 

Cold here the last two days. Double digits below zero. -13 the coldest I recorded. Now up to 9 on Friday morning. Bit of snow. 3 inches max.

 

Got started on my home office. Moving art down to a sale pile in the former sewing room. Then I’ll move the green rug to the guest room. Get the printer in place. The battery backup. Connect the cords and I’ll be ready to use the space. Some more moving from the loft, but not yet. Also finishing pruning on the wire shelving in the now dining room. After that the guest room. The walk in closet and the shelving. Continuing to prune.

 

Ruth called yesterday morning. Sad about her Dad. Her person. We both lost our persons didn’t we, grandpop? Yep. The acknowledgment of the new yahrzeit plaques is tonight. 6 pm at CBE. It’s also Rosh Chodesh, the honoring of the new moon. And, the 6th night of Hanukah. Probably going in person.

 

Working title How To Become A Pagan. The new book. Reorganized it using the Great Wheel. Going to sort through posts on those holidays for content. Got Wes Jackson’s book Becoming Native to This Place in the mail yesterday. Can’t find my other copy. Key books for me in this project: Looking for the Hidden Folk, The Celtic Faery Faith, The Great Work, Speaking for the Trees, Overstory, Wendell Berry’s poetry, Mary Oliver, The Outermost House, Sand County Almanac, Leaves of Grass, Tao Te Ching. It’s about reenchantment, reconnecting, gauze removing, learning to walk barefoot, seeing what you’re looking at. Having fun with it.

 

 

*The very first full moon of the year is known in many cultures as the Full Wolf Moon, which is appropriate given the deep, ancient ties between wolves and January’s full moon. For instance, the Gaelic word for January, Faoilleach, comes from the term for wolves, faol-chù, even though wolves haven’t existed in Scotland for centuries. The Saxon word for January is Wulf-monath, or Wolf Month. Meanwhile, the festival of the Japanese wolf god, Ooguchi Magami, is held in January. The Seneca tribe links the wolf so strongly to the moon, they believe that a wolf gave birth to the moon by singing it into the sky. Just why are wolves so strongly associated with January’s full moon?

To learn more: Moongiant.com

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.