Category Archives: Fourth Phase

Now, not so other

Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Natalie. Mussar. Luke and Leo. Ginny and Janice. Annie and Luna. Tara. Eleanor. Paul and Findlay. Jim Butcher, a summer’s entertainment. PSA. Testosterone. Kailie. Marny Eulberg. Dr. Buphati. Shadow, her mornings. Mine. The darkness increasing.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Western Medicine

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Ometz Lev. Strength of the heart. The inner strength to move forward. Courage.

Tarot: #0, The Fool (Druid Craft)

  • Optimism and trust: Have confidence that you have everything you need to begin this new phase. The Fool’s lack of baggage is a strength, not a weakness.
  • Living in the moment: This card encourages you to enjoy the process and worry less about the future. It’s a reminder to approach life with childlike wonder.
  • Embracing your inner eccentric: The Fool operates outside conventional rules and norms. Your unique approach to life is to be celebrated. 

One brief shining: Ate the last of the hard boiled eggs with a bit of the regenerative farming sourced dried steak, some mayonnaise, and a banana after I finished my workout, a leg and core day using exercises from Halle, who now works in Dallas, a bit of cardio, another full morning.

 

Health: In somewhat new territory. My PSA rose to .3 from .19. Not a huge rise, certainly not a doubling which always gets attention. Even so, it’s not the direction I want. Probably means another blood draw on Monday as a check, then another one 4-6 weeks later.

At some point, maybe now, I become the Fool on another stage of this eleven year long cancer path. The Fool reminds me to take even this possibility as part of the process. A part that does not suppress seeing the world with childlike wonder. Live until l die.

Mountain View Pain called and scheduled my lidocaine injections, October 1st and 2nd. Left side, right side. The lidocaine anesthetizes my lumbar nerves. Seeing if numbing those nerves stops my pain. That guides the upcoming nerve ablations on October 15th and 16th. Those ablations plus the butran patch should knock down most of my pain. May it be so.

a bit corny, yet…

I feel ok about all of this. Part of living with chronic pain and a terminal illness. I did choose ometz lev as my week kavannah knowing my PSA could change. Strength of heart, the inner strength to move forward. I needed it when I read that number yesterday. And, I had it. I did sit for a minute, looking out my upstairs window as a car went by on Black Mountain Drive, considering my alone but not lonely life.

 

Just a moment: The Chinese military Parade. Modi, Putin, Xi Jinping, and Kim Jong Un. A world without us. My son close by in South Korea. Seoah, too. And, the Jangs.

Asia used to seem so far away, so exotic, so other. Then Mary went to K.L. Mark to Bangkok. Kate, my son, and I to Beijing.  Mary to Singapore. My trip to Singapore, Bangkok, Angkor Wat.  Then my son to Korea where he met Seoah. Kate and I to South Korea and Singapore. Later, my son and Seoah to Singapore.   My trip to South Korea. Still far away, now not so other, though often still exotic.

 

 

Paying For It. Right Now.

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Kate, always Kate. Gabe, thinking of her, thinking of me without her. He and Ruth driving up here yesterday. Oyama. Sushi, our common ground for food. Our conversations. About two college girls on their own in an apartment. About senior sunrise, which Gabe is doing right now.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Grandkids.

Year Kavannah: Wu wei

Week Kavannah: Histapkot. Contentment.

Tarot: The Forest Lovers, #6

One brief shining: Hammer in hand, I drove four nails into Artemis, two on each outside raised bed, pulled out a length of twine, long, cut it from the spool and tied loose knots around Squash Plant Vines under a branch for strength, attaching the twine to the first nail, looping it, and the second nail, a tight note, redirecting the Squash toward the ground so its large fruits will not occupy the raised bed, robbing the Kale, Spinach, and Beets of Great Sol’s light.

 

Yesterday I wondered what I might do to celebrate Kate’s birthday. Last year I took myself out to dinner at Evoke 1923, ordered oysters for an appetizer, and discovered a pearl. Hard to top that.

Yet, it happened. Gabe thought of me, texted Ruth in Longmont. She contacted me and we soon had a lunch plan for a sushi place in Golden. That morning, yesterday morning, Shadow got me up at 3:30 am, and my back acted up early.

Ruth was ok with driving the extra half hour up here. (I paid for her gas.) They got here to the Mountain home around 11:30. We ate lunch at Oyama, a local sushi spot.

In honor of Kate I ordered a tempura bento box. When the rest of us, Jon, Ruth, and I, would go to a sushi place, she made do by ordering tempura. She was more a prime rib or tenderloin sorta gal.

Discovered, again, why I don’t order it for myself. Too dense. Too heavy. Still, Kate’s memory.

We came back to Shadow Mountain, talked some more. Toured Artemis and her amazing Tomatoes, her Spinach, Kale, Beets, and Squash. Everything that’s growing has done well over the last couple of weeks.

Gabe carried two bags of gardening Soil out to her for me. Something only a few years ago I could have done under one arm. Sigh.

 

Me and my Shadow: Yesterday I laid down for a nap (up at 3:30, remember?) and didn’t call Shadow for naptime. I wanted to get to sleep and sometimes she wakes me up.

I turned on the oxygen concentrator, cranked the fan up another turn, and went to sleep. When I woke up, Shadow had curled her body next to my pillow. Fast asleep. Oh. Well.

 

Just a moment: I read this Atlantic article yesterday, How Ivy League Admissions Broke America. I found the author’s argument not only persuasive, but possibly a way forward. He shows how an intentional change by Harvard to admissions based on intelligence rather than family lineage created an unhealthy distortion in our whole education system. The valorizing of intellect über alles.

We pushed away the bakers and candlestick makers, the steelworkers and the factory workers, farriers and dress makers. Placed them on a lower social rung. We’re paying for that right now.

Waking up

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Professor Luke. Leo, the old. Tuscany Tavern. Rabbi Jamie. Irv. Joe. CBE men’s group. Rain. Hard Rain. Mountains Green. Those forty plus Elk Cows eating Grass in Elk Meadow. Three young Elk Calves crossing with their Mothers. Waiting on them to cross the highway. Mountain Life. Shadow inside when I got home.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Elk of Evergreen

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Histapkot. Contentment.

Tarot: Knight of Vessels, the Eel

One brief shining: Rain pelted down as I drove up Shadow Mountain last night, the Air heavy and cool, while the waning light from Great Sol’s shabbat appearance outlined Conifer Mountain and Black Mountain in the mist. Shadow was inside and dry.

 

Yesterday was busy. By my standards. These days. Even though my breakfast with Alan canceled. He has a cold.

At 11:30 into Evergreen. Tuscany Tavern. Professor Colaciello, He starts teaching chemistry tomorrow at Metro Community College. This was a congratulatory lunch. At his choice of spots.

He explained his plans. “I’m going to open with, Chemistry is the science of transformations!” He has five demonstrations to follow that sentence. One using oil and water. Another using a combustible powder that he holds in his palm. A lighter. Why didn’t it flame up? Then he sprinkles it over the lighter and whoosh. Oxygen.

Dry Ice in Water. With a ph strip. The water becomes acidic as the dry Ice dissolves. Showing his dental hygienist students why carbonated liquids can destroy tooth enamel.

Later in the week, in a mildly ironic moment, he will teach his first class in the Chemistry of Cannabis. It’s an industry here and the industry requires educated workers. Part of the track for budding professionals.

Leo sat on the patio with us as we talked, ate our lunch.

 

Home for a nap with my Shadow girl.

Out to King’s Valley and Bear Park Road to pick up Irv for the CBE men’s group. Turn around and drive back to Evergreen to the Synagogue.

Only four of us. Joe Greenberg. Jamie. Irv. And myself. The topic. How to be with someone suffering from depression.

The smaller group allowed us to go deeper than we might have otherwise. Each of us had either been depressed or had a close family member who was, or had been. Not surprising.

Accompanying. Being with the person. Not trying to cheer them up or fix them, but acknowledging their pain. Letting them know you care for them. Realizing that depression has its own logic, never visible to those on the outside.

I shared my experience of waking up a couple of months ago to my dysthemia over the early months of this year. Chronic pain. Struggles with Shadow. Uncertainty about what was going on with my cancer.

When Kate was alive, she had this job, given to her by my analyst, John Desteian. She would say to me, “I sense you’re slipping into melancholy.” That would help me wake up, earlier. Kate’s gone now. Had to wake myself up. Harder.

 

Bracing

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Friday gratefuls: Ginny and Janice. Annie and Luna. Shadow and friends. Warmish morning. Beets growing taller. Spinach spreading its still small leaves. Kale as well. Tomatoes fruiting. Growing. Waiting on Soil for the East facing bed. Marny Eulberg. Post-polio syndrome. Post-polio survivors. Like me. Her butterfly garden.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: My neck muscles that have worked so hard all these years

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Hakarat Hatov. Recognizing the good

Tarot: The Journey, #13 of the major arcana

One brief shining: Bend your neck to the left, now press against my hand, bend to the right, press against my hand, put your chin on your chest, oh yes, you can only go 10 degrees to the left but almost 40 to the right. Thank you, Marny.

 

Health: Yesterday was post-polio day. I drove down to Wheatridge, a charming place to my surprise, with brick homes, old businesses in older buildings, tree-lined streets. Marny’s home was on a cul-de-sac with five other large houses. Hers stood out because her front yard has a Butterfly Garden instead of Grass. I liked her already.

She met me at the door, her right leg braced, a slight hitch in her step. Gray-haired, a bit plump, with a red t-shirt featuring an Elephant. A grandma, crone figure.

Inside a large open room with a tiled floor, a kitchen area and a living area together. Her dog, a friendly cockapoo with an absurdly long tail licked my hand.

At her invitation I sat at her kitchen table. Two old folks, survivors of the pre-1950 polio epidemic. She handed me some literature about post-polio organizations including one in Colorado.

She read my answers to her new patient three page form, asking me questions as she did. No, no surgeries. Yes, breathing support. Iron lung.

She had me take off my t-shirt and manipulated my neck. All this to create a prescription for the orthotist. A brace-maker. She showed me examples. Similar to one’s used for people who’ve broken their neck. I like this one. Minimalist.

Not sure how often I’ll use whatever one I get. Driving. Yes. In the backyard with Shadow. Yes. Because I tend to walk with my head down I run into Lodgepole Branches. If I get enough pain recession, while hiking. Maybe even at meetings later in the day when my muscles wear down.

I need to have it though because my neck has gotten worse over the past year. Maybe I’ll get comfortable enough with it to wear it more often.

 

Tarot: The Journey. #13 on the Wanderer’s spiritual path through the Wildwood. A little over midway. The Journey card acknowledges death as a part of life’s journey, the end of a life. I can take it at its most literal since the end of my journey has come closer and closer. True of all of us in our late seventies. A step along the way.

I can also take the card as a sign of inner change. Accepting my disabilities. Back pain. Neck atrophy. Accepting my prostate cancer and its own destination. This is, come to think of it, my year kavannah, my intention to live fully into wu wei. Going with life as it presents itself. Going with flow. This is where the winding stream of my life has brought me and I’m fine with letting this kayak bob and weave on its remaining bends and pools and rapids.

 

Ways Forward

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Waning gibbous Moon. Morning Darkness. Shadow. Father of Shadows. Great Sol. Artemis and her children. Heirloom Vegetables. Raised beds. Co-creation. Gardening. Kate, always Kate. Bee keeping. The Atmosphere. The Troposphere. Space. The International Space Station. The Hubble. The Web. Exoplanets. Distant Suns. Galaxies. Black Holes.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shadows

Year Kavannah: Wu wei

Week Kavannah:  Hakarat Hatov. Recognizing the Good

Tarot: The Seer, #2

One brief shining: The boiler turns itself on, feeding hot Water into the hot Water tank while open windows let cool Air flow in and over my chair, my feet the chair chosen by Kate supporting me while I write.

 

Hakarat Hatov: Recognizing the good. Luke’s joy at getting an associate Professorship in Chemistry. His care for Leo. Rabbi Jamie’s creative teaching. Tom’s quiet confidence. Ode’s sketchbooks. Bill’s everyday kindnesses. Paul’s serious joy.

As Paul said on Sunday, if we seek Hakarat Hatov, goodness abounds in everyday life, no matter the bitter and ugly transformation of our government. Too easy to focus on the doom, let ourselves fall into despair. Don’t ignore it, no, but also recognize the ordinary good all around.

 

Just a moment: A way forward. Storm Before the Calm by George Friedman. Amy, my audiologist, echoing a similar idea. She knows folks she said, progressives, who want to return to the Obama era. No, she says, MAGA has revealed too many cracks (her word. I might go with chasms, abysses.) in the U.S. There’s no going back Amy went on. What we have to do is survive these years, then build something new, something that takes into account the MAGA reveals.

I agree with her and with Friedman. The excesses of the Gilded Age, which Trump apparently has in mind, led to the progressive era of Teddy Roosevelt, the trust buster.

Or, we could also call this late stage capitalism wherein the oligarchs gather so much money unto themselves that the rest of us have too little to power the consumer economy.

Greed cometh before a fall. As Gordon Gecko showed us.

 

Learning: Higher education and in particular the Humanities have suffered hit after hit as the conservative mortar crews have begun to walk in their ordnance, finding the bunkers and trenches of Renaissance and Enlightenment thought with their “anti-semitic” coded explosives.

I no longer fear the elimination of Humanities courses. Why? Because Thucydides and Beowulf and O’Neil and Whitehead and Mozart and Caravaggio do not live in the academy. They live in those who seek to understand their own humanity, the ways forward when faced with a culture shattered by avarice and base fears.

We and mine will still read the Iliad to understand how one man’s rage can cost the lives of thousands, even millions with today’s WMDs. We will also return to multiple perspectives as modeled by Impressionist, Expressionist, Abstract, and Realist painters and sculptors. We will embrace a world characterized by the metaphysics of becoming, of a One always in process, over the split apart world of Cartesian metaphysics.

The Humanities will not, cannot disappear because they are us at our best, self critical. learning from the vast deposit of human lives already lived.

 

The Future?

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Monday gratefuls: My son and Seoah back home. Murdoch was happy. The Jangs back to Gwangju and Okgwa. Chilly morning. Rain last night. Feels like Fall. Hearing check. Natalie at noon. Edith Wharton. The Gilded Age. When robber barons ruled the U.S. Teddy Roosevelt, who broke up their trusts. The turning of the wheel

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Jet travel

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Hakarat Hatov. Recognizing the good.

Tarot: Seven of Vessels, Mourning.

One brief shining: Leaves gone from simple to complex, seed husks discarded, young stalks pushing upward, reaching for Great Sol, Kale, Spinach, Beets, Nasturtiums, Squash all outside the greenhouse where Tomatoes grow, pollinating themselves, yellow blossoms turning to green bulbous growth on their way to redness.

 

Dog journal: Shadow and I have settled into a nice rhythm. Up at 4:30 to 5:00. A bit of training and cuddling. She goes outside, comes back in around 6. I feed her at 6:45, a bit more training after which she heads outside where she’ll amuse herself until naptime.

Out again after the nap. I go outside at least twice each day to play with her, walk the yard dropping treats. Sometime around 6 pm she either comes in on her own, about 50% of the time, or I pour her food into her bowl which always gets her inside. I close the door and she’s inside for the night.

The next barrier. The leash. Natalie comes today. Our focus.

 

Health: Hearing check today. Don’t expect any changes. May discuss the new AI assisted aids. Tom seems to have had good luck with those though I don’t know whether he bought a new pair.

Visit with Sue Bradshaw last week. She met Joseph. I asked her for a referral to a post-polio doc. Specifically for my neck. Which I find wobbles and tilts. Annoying.

 

The Jangs: My son sent me a message on WhatsApp. Back on base. Murdoch’s tail wagging, wagging, wagging.

Appa and Umma have returned to Okgwa and their truck farm. They left it on its own for the week. Though a rice growers co-op member came by to check on the rice crop.

Mikyung, Seoah’s sister, whose name I misspelled earlier, her husband, and two kids have gone back to Gwangju.

Gathering and dispersing. The way of families in this mobile age. Why this Jang, Ellis, Olson clan has so many different locations: Melbourne, K.L., Osan, Gwangju, Okgwa, Shadow Mountain, Longmont (Ruth), Denver (Gabe). And, Diane in San Francisco.

I used to think this was a problem, and it presents some in the matter of emergencies, but more and more I see at as a feature, not a bug. We are more flexible in our political affiliations and we can support pluralistic, socialist like governments in our home countries while supporting each other in theirs.

Also, I no longer feel quite so attached to the USA. I have a bit of Australian, Korean, Saudi Arabian, and Malaysian patriotism, too. That is, I feel bound to the political actions and their results of those countries as well.

Perhaps this is the future?

New Ideas

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: Bagel table. Sue Bradshaw. My son with me. The Jangs in San Francisco. Breckenridge. The oxygen concentrator. Shadow, barking in the early morning. Protecting Artemis from Mule Deer? The darkness. Shadow still barking. Ah. Stopped. Tactical flashlight. Artemis heater. Tomatoes fruiting. Evergreen Lake. Hot weather.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Walking in the Dark

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Hakarat Hatov.

Active Recognition: Hakarat hatov is not passive. It requires conscious effort to identify and acknowledge the good, rather than taking it for granted. Beyond Gratitude: While related to gratitude, hakarat hatov extends to recognizing the good in situations and people, even when they haven’t directly benefited you. Jewish Perspective: In Judaism, hakarat hatov is considered a fundamental value, encouraging a positive outlook and a sense of appreciation for the world and its inhabitants. Gemini

Tarot: The Green Woman, #3*

One brief shining: Out into the back yard tactical flashlight in hand, where is she and what has she seen to cause such a commotion, a lot of barking, barking, barking; the cool Mountain morning wraps around me as I see light reflected in two eyes looking at me, Shadow wondering what is he doing out here.

 

Parting words: When I left the Happy Camper a couple of weeks ago, the Gen Z latter day hippy clerk smiled and said, “Be high out there.” Altitude attitude?

Yesterday when I left Jackie’s after getting my ears lifted, Rhonda, her colleague, gave me a mischievous smile and said, “Don’t behave yourself!”

 

The Jang’s last day in Colorado: My son and Seoah packed up, loaded the huge Dodge Van they’ve used for transporting each other on this Rocky Mountain holiday, and headed for a morning in Breckenridge, my son’s post college home for three years.

The part of their stay which focused on things I’ve done many times, I stayed at home. Partly to preserve my energy. My stamina is not up to days away from home. Mostly I just didn’t want to go.

The evening meals I enjoyed immensely. We connected on levels beyond the need for language. Smiles. Hugs. Being together as family. Some conversation and some of it deep: the nature of government or the origin of Homo sapiens. Some of it silly. They liked Macgiver, Battlestar Galactica, American TV. I like K-dramas. Soft culture.

We left each other on the asphalt of my driveway. Hugs all round except for Umma, who shook my hand. Her way.

An important visit. Memories that build relationships. Relationships that can last over time and distance. My question now is how to nurture, how to reinforce them.

A few ideas. I pay Ruth’s airfare to Korea next summer if she gets an internship there. Maybe I go with her. Gabe’s graduation money could send him to Korea, too.

Perhaps we’ll all meet in Hawai’i. Vacation together in a spot between the Mountains and the Peninsula.

Emails and zoom. Gifts. I’m open to other ideas. Mary? Mark?

 

Just a moment: A new form of family, united across oceans and languages and nations, perhaps that’s part of the answer to Trumpism. An end around. Loosen the bond with any one home country, spend the released energy on building connection continent to continent.

 

*”…the Green Woman mediates the sacred sovereignty of the Earth’s soul and can show the path to understanding and communion with nature. But with this blessing comes responsibility. Remember that this glorious, magnanimous and generous spirit can live through you, radiated by the sacred breath of life and given to others who need guidance and healing.” Parting the Mists

 

The Fourth Day

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Ruth and Gabe. Georgetown Loop Railroad. Appa and Umma. Dongoon. Min Yun. Her husband. Their daughter. Seoah’s brother. My son and Seoah. A family knitting itself together. Slowly. Slowly. Beau Jo’s pizza. Swimming. Hawai’i. Shadow, too many people, too many changes.

front: Dongoon, his sister, Min Yun, Back: l-r Seoah’s brother, Seoah, my son, me, Min Yun’s husband, Appa, Umma at my house

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Blended families

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Ahavah. Love.

Tarot: Six of Stones, Exploitation*

One brief shining: A young Korean boy with round wire glasses talking about how humans got bigger brains, a book in Korean with an English title, Origin Stories, on the table between us after the pizza and gyros had been put away, his father stroking his hair.

 

The Jangs:

The gentle, circuitous creation of an Asian American family made up of many disparate persons, places, and experiences.

At first I didn’t understand the Tarot cards I’d been drawing this week.

Perhaps I would have seen this anyway, but possibly not. These cards and this week have opened my eyes to an unusual, slow motion event that has been building ever since Mark and Mary set off for parts unknown over thirty years ago.

Then, Raeone and I adopted my son, a Bengali. Who experienced 9/11 as a freshman in college and shifted his focus from pre-med to a future in the military, defending the country that had given him so much. (his words)

As a result of Mary’s living in Singapore and my desire to see Angkor Wat, resourced by an inheritance from my father, I made my second trip to Asia in 2004. My son, Kate, and I visited Beijing in 1999.

In his Air Force career he took a two year deployment to Korea (do you see an Asian pivot slowly turning our lives?). During his time there he met and married Seoah Jang. They will celebrate their 10th wedding anniversary next year.

I know. But I’m getting there. Kate and I went to my son and Seoah’s wedding in Gwangju. 2016. I officiated. That was the first time I met the Jangs, going to their home in the small village of Okgwa where Seoah grew up. Slowly. Kate and I went on to Singapore after the wedding.

Seoah got stuck here for four months during Covid, unable to return to Singapore where my son had been chosen to attend the Singapore War college. That cemented Kate and mine’s relationship with Seoah as their year in Singapore cemented their relationship with my sister, Mary.

After Kate died, I returned to Korea for five weeks in 2023. I got to know the Jangs again, revisited Okgwa during the fall festival.

Ruth met the Jangs this year in May when she went to Korea to attend my son’s transition to command. Now, only two months later, they’re all here in Conifer.

Slowly. They want to learn English so they can talk to me. I want to see them more because I enjoy their comfort, their warmth, their sense of family.

Seoah wants Ruth and Gabe to consider Dongoon and his sister as cousins. Apparently a primary goal of this trip for Min Yun was for Dongoon and I to talk. Not sure why. Not sure it matters.

The effect has been to lay down, to paraphrase Lincoln, more mystic cords of memory between the United States elements of this widely dispersed family and its Korean members.

We have the chance to become a true international, interracial family. One I want to devote time and resources to nurturing. Seems like a worthy final push before the Hawai’ian sunset.

The left Reverend Doctor Israel Herme Harari

 

 

 

 

 

The Second Day

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Shadow, looking at me across the pillow. At 4:30 am. My son, working. Seoah and her sister. Shopping. A warm morning. The Tomato fruits setting. Kale, Spinach, Beets growing. Having my son and Seoah under my own roof. Family. A strong, dispersed family. The view from Shadow Mountain.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Sharing pizza with my son

Year Kavannah: Wu wei

Week Kavannah:  Ahavah. Love.

Tarot: Knight of Vessels, The Eel

One brief shining: A quiet, gentle feeling with my son and Seoah sleeping above me as I type; a joy that comes from deep within, neither from a happy place, or even a place of satisfaction, rather a connected and comfortable spot, one where no expectations other than love lies.

 

The Jangs: Jet lag saw yesterday a quiet day with my son staying here, drafting personnel reviews while Seoah went to be with her family at the Air BnB.

Apparently it was an emotional Sunday evening with tears and alcohol at the BnB. Not sure what  triggered all that except Appa’s jet lagged yearning for a life in the U.S. he was not able to live. He fought for and with U.S. soldiers in the Vietnam War so I imagine this is a long nurtured dream.

He never went past elementary school, yet learned and successfully applied the principles of organic farming as a grower of vegetables and rice. He’s also been village headman for Seoah’s home village, Okgwa, for many years. Education does not equal intelligence or reveal skills.

Appa’s long sober so it was not him drinking but Seoah’s brother-in-law, the six foot green grocer, and her sister, Min Yun. I imagine the unexpected confluence of jet lag, altitude, and American beer led to stronger effects than anticipated. Travel, eh?

Seoah’s sister recovered well enough to convince her husband to drive her, Seoah, and their kids into Cherry Creek for some fancy, label focused shopping. My son was happy he didn’t have to go. Me, too.

I spent a quiet Monday here with Shadow as my son worked. In the evening I went out to Ripple, a new pizza and soft ice cream joint, picked up a large pepperoni and green olives which we ate together.

Sharing a meal, just him and me, called up the Irvine Park years when we lived in my condo. Irvine Park had a lovely square with a Victorian fountain, a bandshell, and great oaks, one of which played backstop for many evenings of catch.

Yesterday, talking about Hawai’i, Seoah said, quite casually, “Yes, we’ll all live there.” Indicating my son and me. If my son does decide to retire at the end of his twenty years, one year after he finishes in Korea in 2027, that’s been the plan.

A good goal for me. A Hawai’ian sunset.

 

Just a moment: I knew this was coming. Trump Administration Will Reinstall Confederate Statue in Washington. NYT, 8/5/2025. Gotta pander to that base with the Epstein files nipping at your MAGAmatic heels.

500 MPH

Summer and the Korea Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Shirley Waste. Shadow, the seeker in the dark. Russian Kale. Chioggia Beets. Bloomsdale Spinach. Sprouting. Rainbow Chard. Rocket Arugula. Lettuce Lolla Rossa. Peeking out. Tomatoes blooming. Squash, too. 8.8 Earthquake. Tsunami. A dangerous Mother. The Jang itinerary. Artemis. Baseball. Football. Soccer. Basketball.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Sprouts

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Yirah. Awe.

Tarot: The Knight of Arrows. Hawk.  What do the cards have to tell me today?

One brief shining: Ended my p.t. with Halle after 19 sessions, back to my own routine with cardio, upper and lower body days, feeling the burn, the muscle memory taking over, an habituated expectation that on this exercise my body needs to do this. Serious grind.

 

chatgpt couldn’t get the number of people right. But you see the idea

The Jangs: My son sent out an itinerary for their 7 days here. A possible list of things to do. Ride the Georgetown Railroad. Museum of Natural History and Science. Dinosaur Ridge. Water activities on Evergreen Lake. Guanella Pass. Those sorts of things.

Have to take into account age, too. Two elderly, two kids, two middle-aged adults. Not to mention diet. The first, highest priority item? A visit to H-Mart for food suitable for a Korean palate.

It’s one thing transitioning from an American diet (if you can grace hamburgers, meatloaf, potatoes, peas, and corn with that lofty word) to the subtle and varied Korean diet. Quite another to go from Korean to American.

Seoah’s a pro at this though, so it will be no problem. My son, too.

 

Dog journal: Shadow and I have both lowered our stress levels. Her coming inside for her evening meal makes night time easy. Her coming up on the bed at naptime and sometime (earlier now) in the night signals her growing security. This makes me happy.

 

Mother Earth: Kamchatka Peninsula. 8.8 temblor 90 miles off its Coast. One of the strongest ever recorded. Underwater fault lines slip. Water rushes up to 500 mph. It’s the sudden stop on this Coast or that one. Water rises at speed, sweeping Rock, Sand, Buildings, Animals, people as it does.

She’s a dangerous lady, our Mother.

 

Health: Going to Colorado Pain today for a consultation. Hopefully leading to the implanting of a SPRINT device.

My pain level has receded with p.t., some modest help from steroid injections, and the car seat cushion. Receded, but not gone. My mobility remains limited. Bending over painful enough to make me avoid it.

Also. On Monday I had on odd experience. Deanna, the ultrasound technician was deaf. She spoke in a stilted way, watching my lips.

She had it down. I admired her ability to succeed in a hearing dominate world.

As she said, “Two ohdurs. Hernia. Scrrotum.” She pointed to the words on her paper. I nodded. Trying to find the source of my pain two Sunday’s ago.

In Lakewood. 101 degrees. I drove back up the hill as soon as we finished.

 

*A quicksilver messenger of fate, the Hawk can help and support you to see through layers of doubt and uncertainty to the problem at the heart of the matter. Be swift and use your common sense to progress.