Category Archives: Denver

Colorado, Denver, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Hawai'i, Health, Hermitage, Jefferson County, Judaism, Memories, Minnesota, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, The Move, The West, Travel

Jerseys. Drug Holidays. Golden.

Leave a comment

Fall and the Simchat Torah Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Memories. Friability. Dreams. The same. Mini-splits. Warm when and where I want it. Cool, too. That back I never had mowed. Beautiful and dangerous if a Fire came through. Sigh. New options for the move. An obvious one, missed until now. Diane. Robin. Tal. His turn at the Creativity Class. Acting class tonight. Chekhov. The Seagull. Uncle Vanya. Ivanov. Will read the Cherry Orchard today. Growing. Right here in Colorado. Change. Stability. One inevitable, the other pleasant while it lasts.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Lead time yields multiple options

 

Whether a correction is in order or not about yesterday’s post, let me be clear: my cousin Diane prefers Jerseys. Always has. Always will. In fact she wore a t-shirt while here that read: Zike Jerseys. Morristown. Higher butterfat than those run of the mill Holsteins. At first she thought my memory might have been wrong, but then she remembered Uncle Riley often bought Holstein bull calves to feed out and sell for slaughter. Could have been some of them. Or, my memory could be faulty.

Still eating through the collection of See’s chocolates Diane brought. A real treat. Ramping up my yogurt and fruit game, too. Told you she was a good influence. Bean and cheese burrito plus yogurt and raspberries for breakfast.

 

Televisit with Kristie. So. Once a month urology oncologists, radiologists, and other specialists and their physicians assistants have a round table dicussion. Each one who wants gets up to two cases to present, then the gathered group provides advice and thoughts. Since Dr. Eigner. my oncologist, and Dr. Simpson, radiation oncologist, differ on their view of the bony sclerosis on my thoracic spine, Kristie will present next Wednesday.

A presentation consists of an overview of treatment from diagnosis through procedures and lab work up to the present day. In my case it will span the time from May 2015 to October 2022. The particular issue in my instance is whether I have metastases causing the swelling on my spine. Dr. Simpson wants to radiate it; Dr. Eigner wants to ignore it.

The most likely result of the conference will be some earlier scans and if felt necessary an MRI to determine the exact nature of those sclerosis. This is good for me because my case is getting reviewed by many docs. Sorta like a fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth opinion.

Kristie gave me some other news, too. If my numbers continue the same PSA undetectable and testosterone low for the next 10 months, I’ll go on a drug holiday. Not sure how long. The reason? These drugs lose their effectiveness over time and a holiday from them reserves some of their capacity so I can still use them. I forgot to ask what the cancer does during the holiday. Lives it up I suppose.

Kristie is a caring doc. I like her and she likes me, a good deal for both of us. We discussed the fatigue I have in the early afternoon. She suggested I check myself while in Hawai’i. If I don’t have it there, it could be psychosomatic. Which was one of my thoughts, too. Good idea.

 

Seeing Kristie brought to the fore a third option for the move, one I’d neglected to consider. Move down the hill. I’ve neglected it because I thought of it as moving to Denver, a place I don’t want to live. But I’ve begun looking seriously into Golden. Once I get to down to 5 600-5 800 feet my O2 sats return to normal.

I’d thought about moving to a college town if Hawai’i didn’t work out, then Minnesota got on my list. Golden has the Colorado School of Mines. That means cultural opportunities. It’s also closer to Boulder with its cultural opportunities and restaurants. Also, it’s right at the base of the Foothills and abuts Interstate 70, a quick shot up to Evergreen and CBE.

Seeing Kristie brought this to mind. I really appreciate her attention to my situation and I wouldn’t have to change oncologists. Medical care in Hawai’i and Minnesota is excellent, so I don’t imagine there would be any degradation of care, but I know Kristie and Dr. Eigner. Eigner since May of 2015. And Kate thought him a good doc.

Not to mention that it would save some money on the move. Quite a bit probably. And retain that link to Gabe and Ruth. All three have strong arguments. Now we’ll see where the different factors begin to move my  heart as we get closer to a pruned house and and a sold house.

Oh. And one more thing. Over the last year especially I’ve found my personal growth accelerating with CBE and mussar, with the Kabbalah Experience classes, and with my CBE friends. A move to Golden would preserve those. Not an insignificant consideration.

 

Commentary on the news, Denver, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Jefferson County, Judaism, Mountains, Mussar, Original Relation, Plants, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Shadow Mountain, Tarot, Weather +Climate

In the stranger we discover humanity

Leave a comment

Beltane and the Living in the Mountains Moon

art@willworthington

Friday gratefuls: Yesterday’s zero on posting. Hike on the Denver Mountain Parks Trail. Mussar and sadness around gun violence. Gabe here. Jon calmer. Ruth in the hospital again. Snow all gone. 7.5 inches. Wow. Bewilderment, Richard Power’s latest. Hawai’i. Money. Travel. Cumulus Clouds white over Black Mountain. Sol. Life-Bringer.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Gabe

Tarot: Page of Vessels, Otter

“As a person, Page of Vessels represents someone with an open and youthful approach to life. They are imaginative and playful characters. Otters may be mischievous, but their hearts are not malicious. Expect a surprise when Otter shows up to say hello!”

 

The page of Vessels, the otter, reminds me to play, use my imagination for fun, enjoyment. Get some more mischief in my life. More surprise. More oneg, pleasure. More simcha, joy. Let my hair, what there is of it, down. Shake it all about.

June 1

Like most late season Snows, this one on June 1!, mostly gone yesterday. The rest will disappear today. Already 55 at 9am. All Moisture is good Moisture. Up here. Though. The Boundary Waters and Rainy Lake? Not so much. Water is not always where its needed. Watch for the Water wars to ratchet up here in the West.

 

We had a powerful conversation at mussar yesterday about Uvalde and gun violence. Even our most conservative member, a Trump gal, was agin’ it. When will we ever learn?

“When a stranger resides with you in your land, you shall not oppress the stranger. 34 The stranger who resides with you shall be to you as the native-born among you; you shall love the stranger as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.” Leviticus 19:33-34

The mussar text from yesterday quoted this verse and a comment on it by a German-Jewish philosopher, Herman Cohen. Loving God. Got it. Love your neighbor. Got it. A member of the tribe. Someone like you. Not stranger. Love a stranger? In this verse Cohen says we discover humanity and God’s disposition toward our species. Love is not merely tribal, but universal.

A strong rebuke to the gun worshipers who say, “Hate the stranger in your midst. And, if possible, shoot them.”

 

Gabe is up here for a couple of days. I’m recruiting him to help learn lines. Also, to find that annoying beep. He tried to find it but like me, could not. Jon? Nope. Gabe loves Kep and wants to see him, work on jigsaw puzzles, watch TV, hunt for deer antlers.

We’re going to a presentation on Israel at the synagogue this evening. I like getting the kids over to the synagogue as often as possible. Being Jewish is important to them, but that part of them is not getting fed right now.

Ruth comes home tomorrow. Jon and she will come up here for a family meal after she gets released.

 

There’s a Denver Mountain Parks Trail on the way home from Evergreen, maybe 3/4’s of a mile from 73. I talked about it last week. I’ve taken to hiking it after mussar. One of my two trail hikes during the week. After our conversation about loving neighbors and strangers we talked about saying hello to strangers and acquaintances alike when we’re out and about. Having just finished Overstory I suggested we include Trees and Flowers, Rocks and Streams.

Along I went. Hello. To the thick Ponderosa. Hello to the Bluebells peeking from the Grass. Hello to the great slab of Granite covered with Moss and Lodgepole Roots. Hello to the Stream running happily. Singing to me as I hiked. Hello to the Wild Strawberry. To the thorny wild Berry Canes. Hello to the tall Pine climbing up straight as a mast. Hello to the Rocky Stream Bed that gives the Water a crashing, foaming moment at the end of the trail. Hello to the small Pond and the Waterstrider on the Pond.

This was more than a casual exercise. It made me feel I was among friends, no longer strangers these Plants. These Rocks. This Water. It might feel silly at first. That’s ok. Silly is good. Otter already told us so. You could give it a try.

 

Denver, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate

Spontaneity

Leave a comment

Spring and Seoah’s Citizenship Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Dr. Beresford-Kroeger. A Celtic guide to the next future. Thanks, Tom. Ruth and Cord, a boy who thinks she’s pretty. She is, btw. Spontaneity. 76 degrees in Denver yesterday! 63 back home! The genuine weirdness of a Mountain Spring. Big Snow coming. Sushi. Ichi-go, ichi-e. Driving back into the Mountains after having been down the Hill. The Container Store. Energy.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ruth in strong like. Very Sweet.

 

So. Looked up Orgovyx and thyroid. Nothing there. Then, uh-oh. Erleada and thyroid. 10% of participants experienced, you guessed it, hypothyroidism. Most likely culprit since my tsh, thyroid stimulating hormone, went way up after I started taking Erleada. The things I do to keep cancer at bay.

Don’t know yet if this is a permanent condition or whether it will wane when (if?) I go Erleada. I see Eigner on April 4th and that will be an early question.

On the bright side of it, however, the levothyroxine seems to have taken hold earlier than Kristen said it would. Almost immediately. And my energy level has gotten soooo much better that

I did something spontaneous yesterday. Combination of Covid, Kate’s long illness, grief, and winter kept me home focused, planning focused, remodeling focused. When I went out, it was to pick up groceries, takeout, deliver food, occasionally go to mussar or down the hill for a medical appointment. And come straight home. Relieved and happy to return.

Yesterday though. I had breakfast with Alan at the Parkside cafe. We talked about his recent trip to NYC. His daughter Francesca has moved there. My burst of energy. His learning about a Catholic priest studying genocide that I’ll write more about when I get his website from Alan. Commercial property vacancies. Taxes. And other stuff like friends do.

When I waved to him as he headed toward his Tesla, I thought. What the hell. It’s a nice day. I’ll go to the Container Store. Something I’ve been to do ever since the almost completion of my kitchen remodeling. I sat in Ruby for a minute refreshing my memory of its Lone Tree location. The map on my phone pointed me into Denver for the closest location.

Nah. I want to go in and out. Back home. That was last three plus years thinking. Found my way down North Turkey Creed Road to 285 and headed east intending to get on 470 and drive to Lone Tree. Got to about Indian Hills and thought, What the hell? It’s a nice day.

I pulled off the road. Called Jon. No answer. Called Gabe since Ruth is usually asleep until noon. Could I meet them for a late lunch after I went to the Container Store. Yes.

OK. Then. Instead of 470 I continued on 285 to University Avenue, past Swedish Hospital where I took Kate so many times to University Avenue and headed north to Cherry Creek. Cherry Creek is Edina, Grosse Pointe, Shaker Heights only in the city of Denver.

After driving past the University of Denver with its fauz Gothic buildings and Iliff Seminary, both fine Methodist institutions, I hit the Cherry Hall Shopping Center. Gucci. Yeti. With free standing stores. And one very big Container Store.

It’s motto, improbably to this sometime metaphysician, is Where space comes from! It was 10:30 on a Sunday morning. The folks shopping looked college aged, maybe from the University of Denver? I wandered, getting a gestalt of the plastic and glass containers for cereals, coffee beans, rice, flour. Looking for lazy susans for under my sink and in my spick/cooking oils cabinets. Dividers for my silverware drawer. That sort of thing.

Picked out a few things, paid my bill, went to the car. Called the Aurora Olsons and we settled on Stanley Marketplace for sushi. There I saw Ruth as a shyly proud young woman who has experienced the attentions of a young man. So, so sweet. And, made the spontaneity feel more than worth it.

After we finished, she opened her arms for a hug. “You’re my sweetheart,” I said. “And Cord’s.” She replied. Sorry Kate’s not seeing this.

Back home I fed a hungry Kep. Got back right at his feeding time which pleased him. Me, too.

Sat down, pleased with my self for a simple joy. And thought, if this were to be my life, that would be ok.

 

Anoka County, Denver, Dogs, Jefferson County, Park County, Shadow Mountain, US History, Weather +Climate

Why I Stay

Leave a comment

Imbolc and the 3/4 Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Award Winning Pet Grooming. Beautiful Rigel. Shaggy Sheep’s carnitas taco. South Park and the Continental Divide. Beautiful with Snow. McKesson Biologic. Erleada. Happy Camper. Cheeba Chews. Making dreams come. Driving on a Snow packed highway. Like old times. Park County. The Mountains. The Valleys. The blue, blue Sky. Warmer. Getting stuff done.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: South Park, the High Plains

Tarot:

 

This was home though

The Rocky Mountains. My chief complaint about Andover was that there was no there. Until I got on our property. Meaning: whenever I drove into the Cities, I’d come home via I35 or I94 to Hwy 10, then up Round Lake Blvd. It was businesses, homes, industrial buildings, four lane zipping here and there, sometimes six or eight lanes. I never left the comfortable built cocoon of human habitation and its concrete and steel support system. Uninspiring. Deinspiring. Blah. Bah. Humbug.

To be fair Anoka County was wonderful. An (relatively) undiscovered gem of the Twin Cities Metro. Boot Lake Nature Reserve. Oak Savannah. Rum River County Park. The Cedar Creek Nature Center. But even these existed as cordoned off chunks of the natural world. Protected. And the protection was necessary. Exurbation.

In a very real sense I don’t live in Colorado, I live in the Rocky Mountains. Colorado is the Denver Metro, the big ranches on the Eastern Plains, and the even bigger ranches in the Western part of the state. Here the dominant reality is Mountains. Streams. Valleys. Pines and Aspen. Mule Deer, Moose, Elk. Mountain Lions and Marmosets. Sudden changes in weather that can breathe bone chilling cold, bursts of vehicle covering Snow, hot and dry winds, and glorious clear blue Sky.

I go down the hill as little as possible. Not because I hate the city. I love cities. But because I love the Mountains more. One of the coolest parts of living up here is that ordinary tasks, like taking Rigel to the groomers is an adventure. A drive most folks would buy an airplane ticket to have. Kate stayed here until her death because, she said, “I felt every day like I was on vacation.”

With the exception of certain medical appointments and the occasional outings with family, I have no need to leave the Mountains. Just changed my primary care provider from Littleton to Evergreen for that reason. Well, ok, I’d grown disgusted with the care from New West Physicians. That provided an incentive.

Here are a few photos from today’s trip to Bailey and beyond.

Lazy Bull Ranch, west of Kenosha Pass
South Park, a Park in the Mountains is a large flat section, High Plains, surrounded by Mountains. In this case the Continental Divide. This is BTW, The South Park. Hundreds of square miles. Looks like Minnesota west on Hwy 12
A ranch further West of the Lazy Bull
Kenosha Pass. 11,000 plus feet. Living here the Mountain Pass has become an important feature of driving. Did not understand how important before I moved here.
Art and Culture, Asia, Denver, Family, Fourth Phase, Great Wheel, Kabbalah, Mountains, Politics, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Shadow Mountain, Tarot

A Walk in the Wildwood

Leave a comment

Samain and the Moon of the Winter Solstice

Tuesday gratefuls: Marina Harris and Furball Cleaning. Ana and her partner. Conifer Post Office. Mailing Christmas. That retired pre-school teacher I met in line. Meeting strangers. Ali, the Will Smith biopic. Frozen entrees, even if they are a bit boring. The pause in the remodeling. Cousins. Especially, Diane. Mary. Mark. Holiseason. Next up: Winter Solstice.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Yule

Tarot: The Hooded Man, #9 of the Major Arcana

 

 

This is the card I’ve chosen as my significator, the one that represents me. It’s why I had Herme made, a way to reinforce the Hermit, the Hooded Man living in his Hermitage.

Here’s what the Wildwood Book says about him: “The Hooded Man stands at the winter solstice point, along with the earth and the sun in the night. This is the time to be alone and contemplate life. This card describes the gates of death and rebirth, deep inside the Earth.”

On the Winter Solstice I plan to start a year cycle with a focus on learning, in as deep a way as I can, the Wildwood Tarot Deck. I’m going to follow it through the Great Wheel, doing a Great Wheel spread each Celtic holiday.

Mountain Path in Spring by Ma Yuan, Song Dynasty

I will walk this path as the Hooded Man, the Hermit. But, also think, the Chinese scholar in his mountain retreat. Thomas Merton in his cell. Any Jew walking the long road from Egypt to the Promised Land. The Celtic saint on peregrinatio. The Hindu man living through Sannyasa. This is the moment when attention turns to the holy, the inner, the sacred. That’s all I mean.

Even so. After enlightenment (no, not saying I’ve got there.) we must wash dishes, cook, pay bills. Not turning away from the world, living in it as a boy of wonder, a man turned toward the heart, toward the Wildwood. Gonna cook a regular Saturday afternoon family meal for my peeps. Use that new kitchen for taking meals to others. And, me too, of course.

 

Jon and I will try again next week for his birthday dinner. This time he’s coming up here and we’ll go to the Black Hat Cattle Company in Kittredge. Carnivores delight. Cardiologists’ dream restaurant. Good food, well made.

 

This Seth Levine, New Builders idea keeps itself alive. A sign I need to do something about it. I ordered the book, New Builders. Here’s my idea in a nutshell: Foundry Group (Seth’s venture capital organization) allies itself with a model synagogue, probably a big one like Emmanuel or Mt. Sinai, and a model Black Church, probably like or in fact, Zion which Rabbi Jamie has cultivated as a partner to Beth Evergreen. These three figure out how best to use the resources they each represent to nurture and support New Builder businesses.

If the model proves functional and productive, roll it out to other synagogues, other Black Churches, and invite in the City of Denver’s Economic Development office. The latter will have funds from the Build Back Better initiative.

Then, get to work.

No solution is the One. As in, if we fixed education, everything would be better. If we focus on mental health, we can end homelessness. No.

Yes, of course. Focus on education. Mental health. But, don’t forget jobs, businesses, the capacity to work on your own, for yourself.

I believe economic justice needs to occupy a much bigger slice of our attention than it does. Reparations? I don’t know. Maybe, if it looks like what I’m proposing, that is, a way to underwrite Black creativity and initiative. To go with their ideas, their plans. Help them breathe, live. Forty acres and a mule brought up to date.

Who knows? Could happen.

 

 

 

 

 

Art and Culture, Commentary on the news, Denver, Dogs, Family, Fourth Phase, Our Land and Home, Politics, Shadow Mountain, Tarot, US History

Master Benders

Leave a comment

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Friday gratefuls: Tina at Morry’s Neon. Master Benders. Fun. Making the house mine. Finding Morry’s Neon, an urban pathfinding adventure. Jon. Cardio. Gut bombs. Jodi coming today. New washer coming on Monday. None too soon. Cities. I love them. But no longer want to live in them. The Pandamndemic. Orgovyx. Prostate Cancer.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Master Benders

Tarot: King of Pentacles,  Druid Craft

 

The Hermit neon sign. Quite the oxymoron. Let’s file it under ironic and enjoy it anyhow. Discovered the limits of my navigation software when it kept wanting me to turn left about a hundred feet beyond a chain link fence. The skiploader and men working would have protested, too.

Morry’s Neon, in the neighborhood near the Bronco’s Stadium. Felt like it kept moving as I made this turn and that. Going past construction, non-through streets that used to continue. A year or so back this area, largely Latino, got backing for a huge urban redevelopment plan. In the future you might be able to find your way. Not right now.

Morry’s sits between the Strange Craft Brewery and the Rising Sun Distillery. The Cream. Strange Brew. All the same flat storefronts in a long white business strip mall.

Tina. I’m Glen. I’ve been e-mailing you. Turns out she signed all the e-mails but all I saw was that they came from Glen, her husband, and with her, the owner of Morry’s Neon. He’s a Master Bender. No, not that. Bending glass tubes.

Eddy, left. Mario, right

It’s hard to find Master Benders anymore. Eric has been with us for 30 years and Mario for 8. But Mario had been a bender for many years before that. All seasoned.

Master Benders. Who knew? Tina said she tried to learn it but kept burning herself. When I couldn’t even make a W, I decided bending was not me. I told her I took a week long potting class to conclude the same for me about throwing pots.

Tina wanted me to see the Neon color “chart.” Once there I could see why. Her color chart (see picture) had the colors in tubes, turned on. That way you get a sense of what blue means, or green, or red.

I had to decide on colors for hands, the staff, the beard, the lantern, and the robe. The robe alone may require as much as 14 feet of tubing. I made my decisions. We’ll see how well I did when I get the sign in a month.

Their shop fascinated me. I found it beautiful, a carny or sideshow vibe, but in a manufacturing setting. Long paper covered lengths of tubing sat under a long counters. Where Mario worked, further back, there was a flame he used to heat the tubing before bending it.

Then, when Tina flipped a switch, look what showed up. Could have been Times Square or the Vegas Strip. I love neon and neon signs.

The Hermit will go on the south facing wall above my breakfast table. Not sure how often I’ll turn him on. LOL. That we’ll have to see. They make a black box, plastic, for him, that will put the transformer behind the sign. My original idea was to have a sign outside but outside ups the cost about a grand.

The office

I put down my deposit and Jon and I left for a burger joint. I wanted a place where he could get some calories.

Got in a strong cardio workout before I left. I have a half day plus of energy, then I need a nap.

Came home. Always happy to come back up the hill. One way streets. Construction. Narrow lanes. A sense of people reaching past themselves for a brass ring, hell, even a tin one.

King quoting Theodore Parker, Unitarian Clergy. early 19th century

Yes. I did read the newspapers. Complicated. Looking good for the GOP. 2022. When I met with RJ on Wednesday, he said he doubted he would ever see a normal market in his lifetime. He meant that central banks had interest rates set artificially low, bond yields are terrible, savings accounts stupid. Money has to go into stocks to grow. That keeps the market driving up.

After these elections, I’m inclined to say the same thing about the political realm in the U.S. I doubt I’ll ever see a “normal” election during my fourth phase. And when that ends I’m outta here. You can argue, in my mind successfully, that the old normal was no good anyhow. However, the new chaotic style of American politics bodes poorly for folks and issues I care about.

Makes me want to go live on top of a mountain in the Rockies. And, stay there.

 

 

Denver, Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Great Wheel, Health, Holidays, Judaism, Kabbalah, Mountains, Our Land and Home, Tarot, Weather +Climate

The Moon

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Moon of Chesed

Sunday gratefuls: New neighbors. Rigel, slow. Kep, eager. Workout yesterday, 20 minutes of cardio. Treadmill. Mac and Cheese. Vacuuming. Video on Akitas. Bad air. Shortness of breath, sleep.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Breath. Ruach.

Tarot: The Moon, #18 of the Major Arcana

 

 

We’re #1! Denver topped the world list of most polluted cities yesterday. Smoke. Bad. Today, also bad. A level of 172 on a scale where 300 marks the start of I can’t breathe! weather. Not a spot we cherish. Better in the Mountains, but not by a lot. Smells like a clothes closet full of worn bonfire apparel.

Not to mention pollen. High yesterday. Fun times in the Arapaho National Forest.

Makes sleeping a challenge for me. I wake up consistently in the early morning with clogged sinuses. I can unclog them with saltwater, but the effort tends to wake me up so far that I have trouble returning to sleep.

Got a glimpse of the new neighbors yesterday. They brought their mountain bikes. Then, left.

Went 20 minutes on the treadmill yesterday. My IT band and the knot over my hip have begun to loosen. Still tight, but better. I can see a return to my old exercise habits in the not too distant future. This has been a tougher recovery than I had imagined. Slow and painful.

Friday and yesterday were domestic days. Doing chores like vacuuming Kep’s hair, brushing him. Again. Still. Making Rigel flee as I came toward her with the brush. Put some more soil in the road divot after traffic pounded down the initial batch.

Attended a session on kosher rules and regs. Virtual. Rabbi Jamie. He’s kosher at home, not necessarily so out. Mordecai Kaplan suggested this. Kosher at home for Jewish tradition, flexible out so dining with others doesn’t stigmatize Judaism.

The kosher rules don’t appeal to me though the notion of conscientious eating does. Hard, though. I find my meat and potatoes Midwestern diet stubbornly persistent. Long ago I added a fruit and a vegetable at most meals, but cutting down on red meat? Not so much. And, I have the vascular disease to prove it.

Big day tomorrow. PSA time. Appointment with oncologist on the 16th. As I’ve written before, this is an important one. After that, I go for a hearing exam. Maybe new hearing aids? Also, house cleaning.

The next day Coyote HVAC comes out to give me a bid for mini-split air conditioning. As pollen and smoke interrupt my sleep, heat, too, this feels like a logical step. At least for the two downstairs rooms. Might get pricey for the rest.

Elul, which begins this evening, is the sixth month of the Jewish lunar calendar. The New Year, Rosh Hashanah, is the first day of the next month, Tishri. It gets two nights of celebration. On the tenth day of Tishri the high holidays end with Yom Kippur, the feast of atonement.

Nissan, the first month of the Jewish year, is in March-April, the beginning of Spring. But. The Jewish year number changes on Rosh Hashanah. Not sure why.

Elul is a month of preparation for repentance and atonement, the central theme of the High Holidays. Chesed, loving-kindess, matters when a period of self-examination like this comes. Especially for your own soul. Treat yourself honestly, but gently.

 

The Moon:  A path runs from the sea, past a Dog and a Wolf howling, through two Stone Monoliths, and on beyond the rise. Perhaps to the Moon itself?

The Moon in a crescent phase shows itself between two curtains of Clouds and above the Monoliths. Mountains are visible in the background. The Coast goes on for some distance beyond the Monoliths and, to the left, a Crab crawls up on land, near the path but still partly in the water.

The overall effect is mysterious, lonely, and eerie. The howling adds to it.

With the Wolf and the Dog evolution has a prominent role, ancient ancestor and modern descendant showing how close they still are. The wild does not leave us. Consider fight or flight. Fear. Peripheral vision. Vasovagal response. Lust.

Both the Sea and the Moon can be metaphors for the subconscious or the unconscious. Perhaps life emerges from the unconscious, travels the path of evolution while retaining a rootedness in the past, then passes on through the gates of death back to a post consciousness existence.

Here’s what the Druid Craft creator says about this card:

Keywords: Psychic awakening. Dreams. Deep revelation of feminine mysteries. Facing Fears. Change. Imagination. Creative work.

“A difficult emotional journey ahead. Any loneliness or confusion you feel will pass as this phase reaches its natural conclusion.”

This feels like one with those cards of last week or so, ones suggesting a time of sadness, perhaps grief, will change in this next phase of my life. The August 18th celebration of Kate’s life will, I hope, mark a change. The retreat idea for the Michaelmas time sits gently in my mind as a time to integrate and incorporate that change into a new life.

May it be so.

 

 

 

Denver, Family, Friends, Health, Judaism, Mountains, Music, Shadow Mountain, Third Phase

Back in the Mountains Again

Leave a comment

Summer and the Shadow Mountain Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Franny and the Jets. Alan, proud poppa. Jon, calmer. Downtown Denver. The 16th Street Mall. The new breakfast place. Beignets. Feeling a bit lost yesterday afternoon.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Front Range last night with the Sun setting behind it as I drove home.

 

June, 2019, our backyard

Back now, reabsorbed into the Mountains. Surprised yesterday to see a for sale sign on Holly and Eduardo’s house. They’re moving to Palm Springs, close to it. Eduardo got a new job with the same company, a commercial laundry. Sad to see them go.

Holly told me that Jim and Roberta, who live next to them, got divorced and their house will be up for sale, too. We’ll find out how accurate the (seemingly) inflated estimates are for our house prices.

Drove over to Evergreen yesterday AM and had breakfast with Alan. Cheri, his wife, has organized a big July 4 music festival for Evergreen. She also did one for Memorial Day. A lot of work. Good for the town.

The continuous rains we’ve had have greened up the Mountains. All the Plants look happy, watered, vibrant.

Elk Meadow, which I passed on the way to breakfast yesterday, was the first tract of land protected by a community land trust based in Evergreen. It’s big. The namesake Animals lay down in the grass, others wandered, eating. Highway signs say Watch for Elk. Scan the Roadside.

Got my x-rays back. No cancer, at least in these views. Whew. In the dry and matter of fact way of these reports: “X-rays show no acute changes; just old degenerative changes to lumbar spine and right hip.”

That’s me. An old degenerate. P.T. starts next week.

Still busy with this and that. Mostly. Yesterday afternoon though I’d paid all the bills, had breakfast with Alan, napped. Nothing really to do until 5 pm when I would leave for Dazzle Jazz in downtown Denver. Got to feeling displaced, a bit down. X-ray findings, while not terrible, reminded me of my own mortality. Which seems more real now with Kate’s death.

Also, Dr. Thompson told me not to take anti-inflammatories because of “your vascular disease.” Oh. I haven’t taken them for years, but that was because of kidney disease. I have atherosclerosis, my Midwest U.S. diet hasn’t helped. Since mom and dad both had strokes a reminder of the vascular disease sent me down a short rabbit hole.

Steadied. Sure, I’ll die. When? Don’t know. Today? Well, if so…

Jon and Kate in his new house. The kitchen looks very different now.

Alan’s daughter Franny is a jazz singer with a band called the Jets. They played an Amy Winehouse set yesterday. Dazzle Jazz @ Baurs. I saw her there three years ago when she decided to give up music and had a farewell show. Felt like I’d seen the end, so I wanted to see the beginning. She’s young.

Invited Jon. We had dinner, enjoyed the show. The band took a while to gel, but when they got there, it was good. Being there was therapeutic for me. Saw a lot of CBE’ers and had time with Jon. He’s on a beta blocker now which seems to have calmed him down. A good thing.

I can now find my way out of Denver without GPS. That feels good. It’s taken a while since I’m not in Denver often. The Mountains, as Jen pointed out long ago, line the western horizon. Angle toward them and you get outta town.

As I drove home last night, the setting sun backlit the Front Range, giving it a paper cutout look with jagged peaks in black against a blueblack and white sky. Beautiful, poignant.

When I turned off 470 onto 285, my favorite sign shone up ahead: Watch for Rocks and Wildlife. That’s home.

 

 

Commentary on the news, Denver, Great Work, Politics, US History

Convict Him

Leave a comment

Imbolc and the waning crescent of the Wolf Moon

Tuesday grateful: Dr. Leigh Thompson. Zoom. Mary and Diane. Winds auguring change in the weather. Blue Skies and Sun. Safeway pickup. Chili for the snow coming. Melons to cut up. Kate, always Kate. Impeached. Now convict. Go Senate. Vote to shame.

Sparks of joy: The thought of Puppies. Maybe a Puppy here? The brilliant Sun. Walking upstairs each morning to my library and writing studio. Remembering Gertie this morning with Kate. The trial in the Senate.

So obstructionist Senator Mitch McConnell thinks Marjorie Taylor Greene is a cancer on GOP country? Well, I say they’re both diseases that might well prove fatal to our democracy. If not, and I certainly hope not, it won’t be because they failed to take extremist stands when it served them well. Both of them. This is a splendid example of cancer calling the cancer cancer. A metastasized plague on both of their houses.

It ain’t over by a long shot. Imagine all those always Trumpers ought there right now. They’re adding extra flags to their pickups, buying up guns and ammo, donning camo and getting ready to join their friends at your state house. Well-armed militias my ass. These are armed gangs, thugs, waiting for a leader, 45 or someone else, to loose them on their enemies: libtards, Black and Brown and Red and Yellow, all those rainbow folks, politicians.

Oh, wait. 45 did that, didn’t he? That’s what this trial is about in the Senate. Incitement to insurrection. Right. I saw the movie. If they did that, stormed the U.S. Capitol in the name of Gadsen flag patriotism and Confederate Battle Flag dreams, sure seems like they’ll be willing to head into Denver, Sacramento, Indianapolis, Lansing (again).

No, even organized they’re not strong enough or smart enough to fight the U.S. military, but they don’t have to be. All guerillas everywhere know how to carry the fight in asymmetrical warfare. Hell, a lot of those AK47 carrying lunatics probably learned from the Vietcong when they were in ‘Nam. Can you spell irony?

These are our homegrown Al Qaeda’s, Hezbollah’s, ISIS’s. No, not Muslim. Oh, hell no. No rag head holy book for these geniuses. No, they follow the much more holy Q-anon script. Or the rantings of Rush Limbaugh or Alex Jones. If it looks like a cult, and quacks like a cult…

This is a long term problem. It’s not one that can be solved by executive order or Federal legislation. Good criminal investigations could cripple the Far Right, though.

Even then, we have to offer a better America to truly and finally counter them. We have to have a just America in which people of color no longer feel Derek Chauvin’s knee on their neck. We have to have a fair America where people of color, the rainbow folks, all left behind citizens have enough to eat, a place to sleep, health care, and the opportunity to not only train for a job but a job itself. In this America the silly buggers in red MAGA hats and American flag clothing will become irrelevant.

Defense and offense. Both will be necessary for years to come. We need to get on with it. Starting now.

Colorado, Commentary on the news, Denver, Jefferson County, Mountains, Myth and Story, Our Land and Home, Park County, Politics, Shadow Mountain, The Move, The West, US History

The New West

Leave a comment

Samain and the Moon of Thanksgiving

Wednesday gratefuls: Mountain Waste. Doctors. The one here and the ones out there. Roads. The builders of Colorado Mountain roads. His Dark Materials. Phillip Pullman. Friends. Caregiving. Tsundoku. Collecting books you have not read. William Schmidt. Bill. As he goes through the next 14 days. Tom on December 1st. Carne asada unthawing. Carnitas and beans for supper.

Red Sky in the morning through the Lodgepoles. A western greeting. When it’s red like this, I always think of Louis L’Amour. I’ve only read one of his. It surprised me. The prose was more like Dashiel Hammet. I think it was Riders of the Purple Sage.

When we moved out here, I expected cowboy hats, western shirts, cowboy boots, maybe guns on the hip. Bars with half-doors on spring pivots. Lotta chaw. I have been disappointed. There is the occasional Stetson. Cowboy boots are the most common of the things I mentioned. Very few western shirts, though attending the Great Western National Stockshow saw many of them. It’s the rodeo guys, the paid cowboy entertainers, who dress western.

Although. Yesterday when we got our hair done, Jackie showed me pictures of her son’s wedding. The minister, her son and his bride stood on a large boulder. Her proud father, all dressed in black with a black Stetson and belt with silver stood off to the side below as did the small number of wedding guests. The chairs were hay bales with Diné blankets. This western culture lives on among ranchers. It’s more of a rural thing.

Denver and its metro area, including the Front Range where Kate and I live, is the New West. Skiers, hikers, back country campers, and many millennials have added themselves to the state. In spite of the many bumper stickers like Native, Colorado: We’re full. This change irritates the hell out of “native” Coloradans. Who are, in my opinion, feeling a slight taste of the angst their ancestors gave the Utes, the Apaches, and the Comanches who lived here first. They’re not native here. No one is, in the longview. It took those wandering tribes from Asia a while to populate North America, but even the earliest of them weren’t here 50,000 years ago. But, as we used to say in the first grade, those early nations did have dibs on the land.

This change in the human population has changed both the physical and political landscapes. The number of hard rock mines here, hard rock mines with toxic runoff and piles of toxic tailings literally dot the mountainous part of the state. After the Indian wars, the settlement of Colorado got a big push from Eastern mining and railroad interests, plus one pulse of gold diggers. Pikes Peak or bust. Most, almost all, busted. There was gold here. And silver. And magnesium. So many minerals that a college, The Colorado School of Mines, has taken a storied place in both the states recent past and mining around the world. The mines, the railroads, even the stockyards that grew up around the ranches and the confluence of north/south rail lines, were not locally owned, nor locally controlled. Colorado was, back then, a vassal state of financiers, industrialists, and railroad owners like James J. Hill.

That’s the second big lie behind the nativist bumper stickers. These faux natives of Colorado did not “own” it. Those who saw the West, the Rockies in particular, as a source of resources for their own plans, did. They controlled the politics and the wealth. Those so-called natives descended from peasants who worked the land and mountains for Wall Street feudal lords. The New West, the new Colorado, has its own Fortune 500 companies. The space, technology and military presence here makes Colorado a unique blend of highly educated workers and outdoors enthusiasts. It also means that the state has gone from red to purple to blue over the last few decades. Again, a process highly irritating to those who want to close our borders to new residents.

Kate and I are part of the New West, the new Colorado. So are many of our neighbors. We have moved West as Horace Greeley once urged young men to do. Sort of. Many of us came from the humid east, but many come from Texas and California. Colorado, by a slim majority, became the first state to mandate by popular vote, the reintroduction of wolves. The natives were the chief opposition. The rancher crowd and the hunting oriented outdoors folks. This will not be their first defeat along environmental lines. We also elected a gay Governor, Jared Polis, two years ago, after having been called the Hate State not twenty years ago.

When I consider all this, I’m not surprised any more at the low relevance of old west motifs. My fleece and plaid shirt, denim and hiking shoes, are the dress of the New West. At least for me.