• Category Archives Hermitage

  • Digging in

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Imbolc and the Waiting to Cross Moon

    Tuesday gratefuls: Dr. Eigner. Orgovyx. Erleada. Sushi. Okinawa. Insurance companies dropping neighbors for home insurance.The Dark. Sun unseen. Kep, the early. Extending my mornings. Sano Vet. Thursday. My son and his wife. Murdoch. Love over the internet. Golf. For them. Wiring up the loft door. High winds. Cooling temps. Shadow Mountain. Shadow Brook. Conifer and Black Mountains. Berrian Mountain. Bergen Mountain. Korean fried chicken.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Dr. Eigner

     

    80 mph gusts here on Shadow Mountain yesterday. Blew my loft doors open. Lifted the ceiling tile covering the entrance to the loft’s rafters. Due to damage to the doors that I imagine occurred during a similar event I had to wire the door to a broom handle placed on the other side of the railing for my deck. Actually enjoyed the problem solving, the act. Agency. Winds continue this morning. A big change in Weather coming.

     

    Three questions for Dr. Eigner, my oncologist: Will I live long enough to follow my son to Hawai’i? Should I radiate my two mets at T3 and on my left pelvic lymph node? I’ve been feeling sad about having cancer. Is that usual?

    You will die of old age. Have I been wrong? Sure. But not often. New treatments every year. Orgovyx and Erleada didn’t exist when we first saw you. Your PSA has been undetectable for almost two years.

    How long do you plan to live? To 90 or so. Then treat the mets. If you’d said, 80 or 85, I’d say no.

    Why has it taken you eight years to feel sad? This is so common I have plans for managing it. If you were depressed, I’d contact your primary for anti-depressants. Exercise helps your mood, too. We treat the whole person.

    Given the Vascular Institute results and the Rocky Mountain Pulmonary Intensivists results: no problem here, dude. And Eigner yesterday. I’m digging in for the long haul.

    Talk to Dr. Simpson today to schedule my radiation. A brief treatment, 3-5 sessions.

     

    Rabbi Jamie asked me what kind of ritual I would like to clothe this threshold crossing in? See the O’Donohue post. Told him I’d appreciate a consult. Then ideas began to come. CBE is planting trees this spring for a memorial garden. Folks who do human composting or aquamation can have their remains scattered up there. I might help pay for the trees.

    Then another idea. I wrote a poem a while back that had this line it: Death’s door opens both ways. An image of a door, a free standing door. With old West saloon doors in the shape of wings. Death’s door opens both ways inscribed on both doors. In Latin. Of it burning up as I walk through. Having a strong cohort of friends plus Ruth and Gabe walk me up to it, then go around on the other side to greet me. Maybe some music.

    I’m having lunch on Friday with Tal. Gonna ask if he knows a stage carpenter who might be able to make this happen. Not ready yet, but preparation is good.

     

    How bout that Biden? Sneaky. Going to the Ukraine. And Putin. Pulling out of the nuclear arms treaty? And my son going to Korea. For four years. Yikes.


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  • Waiting To Cross

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Imbolc and the Waiting to Cross Moon

    Monday gratefuls: Dr. Eigner. Dr. Simpson. Kep, the early. Snow. More Snow. Mild temperatures. The Ukraine. Biden. The James Webb. Tom and Bill, the science bros. Max, getting older. Ode, the well-rooted wanderer. Paul, the steadfast. Alan, the cheerful. The Ancient Brothers, a true Sangha. Zoom. Korean fried chicken. Jon, a memory. Kate, always Kate. Ivory. Ruby. Oncology.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Ancient Brothers

     

    So I said it out loud. My reaction to mom’s death turned me from a confident, ready to take on the world teenager to a frightened, hesitant young adult. One who dropped German because he was failing it. Shame. One who convinced himself there was not enough money for Wabash because he was afraid to go back. Shame. One who entered then a great teacher’s college, but a mediocre university. Ball State University. Shame.

    Not a lot of shame in my life. Very little. That’s where it lies. Perhaps now having put it out there. So late. 76. It will fall away. It took me years, nearly three decades, to put the pain of her death in perspective. Treatment for alcoholism. Quitting smoking. Quitting the ministry. Years of Jungian analysis. Finally. Meeting Kate. 26 years later. I finally passed the threshold of grieving mom’s death.

    And started living my life. As a writer. A gardener. A dog lover. A beekeeper. An anachronistic blogger. With a woman who loved me as I was and one whom I loved as she was. A love where we wanted and supported the best life for each other. We traveled. A lot. We stood with both sons fully.

    Abundance. Yes. Ode’s word for our Andover home. Yes. Flowers. Meadow. Fruits. Nuts. Berries. Grapes. Honey. Plums. Pears. Apples. Cherries. Iris. Tulips. Spring ephemerals. Roses. Hosta. Gooseberries. Beans. Heirloom tomatoes. Leeks. Garlic. Onions. Kale. Collard Greens. Lettuce. Carrots. Ground Cherry. Raspberries.

    The fire pit. The woods.

    The dogs. So many dogs. Celt. Sorsha. Morgana. Scot. Tira. Tully. Orion. Tor. The Wolfhounds. Iris. Buck. Hilo. Emma. Kona. Bridget. The Whippets. Vega and Rigel. The IW/Coyote Hound sisters. Gertie, the German Short Hair. And Kep, the Akita.

    It was so good. Until the work became burdensome. Until I visited Colorado one year and Ruth ran away from the door because she didn’t expect me. A surprise visit. Then we had to come. The two. A push. The work of Seven Oaks had become too much. A pull. We wanted, needed to be there for Ruth and Gabe.

    So we packed everything up. And on the Winter Solstice of 2014 moved here, to the top of Shadow Mountain. 8,800 feet above sea level. Into the Wildland/Urban Interface, the WUI. With four dogs: Kep, Gertie, Rigel, and Vega. Again, thanks to Tom for helping with the dog move.

    When the time came, we put away Andover and envisioned a life together in the Rocky Mountains. Kate felt like she was on vacation every day until she died. Where she found the Jewish life she had always wanted. Where we both found ourselves immersed in the lives of our grandchildren, of their parents.

    Now Kate is dead. Vega is dead. Gertie is dead. Rigel is dead. Only Kep and I remain alive. I’m at another threshold, waiting to cross.


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  • Four More Years!

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Imbolc and the Valentine Moon

    Sunday gratefuls: Kep, the early. Jon, a memory. Alan and Cheri. Their move. Next Thursday. Down the hill. Marilyn and Irv watching the John Cleese life after death video. Alan offering to chauffeur me for my colonoscopy. Selling myself short on physical activity. Animas chocolates from Mary. That Korean chicken place. The dumpster in front of the Rav4. Jon’s house about to get cleaned. A buoyed up feeling as I drove. Waiting to cross. Liminal spaces.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: A delightful Saturday

     

    Over to Cheri and Alan’s Saturday morning to help with packing. Packing is better with friends. I picked up a Bread Lounge order for Alan on the way. Multi-grain sourdough and fancy pastries. A tort and two cinnamon rolls. When I arrived, Alan made espresso. Cheri had me sit in the seat with a view. Their million dollar vista of the Continental Divide. Sold. Only theirs for a few more days.

    On Thursday they move from Genesee, right next to Evergreen, to downtown Denver. Right across from the Denver Center for the Performing Arts. After 27 years. Cheri believes a crisis is coming for home insurance in the Colorado WUI. As a former owner/creator of a reinsurance company, she’s not to be ignored. Hope it gives me four years.

    As I moved boxes, helped Alan move bookcases, I realized I’ve still got enough energy to handle three hours of moderately heavy work. At least at their altitude. Which is 1300 feet below mine. Been minimizing my stamina. Want to stop doing that.

    I’ve allowed myself to sink into a diminished view of my body’s capacity. What I can do physically. Telling myself a story of low testosterone, altitude, and a paralyzed diaphragm. All true, yet not as significant as I imagine. Use it or lose it. Want to keep my body as strong and able as possible for as long as possible.

    Not sure how to challenge this view, but I suspect getting back to resistance work will help. My new tablet. Bought so I can watch workout videos downstairs. Body weight. Getting it setup. Bought an inch thick mat for the workouts. May bring some light weights down from the loft.

     

    See Eigner tomorrow. Oncologist. What’s my prognosis? With the mets on my spine. Should I do radiation? Is my sadness a typical feeling for this part of the journey? As I wrote yesterday, I’m at a threshold. These are the questions, hard ones. At least the ones about cancer. Wanting to face front, be as knowledgeable as I can. Not to scare myself, but to do what I can in the moment.

     

    Robin comes on Tuesday. I’ve gotten more work done since she and Michele were here last. Cleared out the home office, though it’s not finished for use yet. Got substantial work done on the guest room walk-in closet. Many shirts, sport coats, a suit, ties, coats ready to go elsewhere. Will do some work in there today. While eating the wonderful Animas chocolate Mary sent me for my birthday.

    They will work on removing what I’ve chosen to give away and getting all my art off the walls upstairs, off the mantle. Taking down all the art in Kate’s former sewing room. I’ll be ready then for Doug, the painter who will paint the upstairs and downstairs starting March 1st. When he’s done, I’ll have Vince over to get the art hung.

    Four more years!


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  • A bit of an organ recital. Another gun rant.

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Winter and the Valentine Moon

    Tuesday gratefuls: Robin and Michelle. Space Wranglers. Coming today. Kep, the sleeper. Award Winning Pet Grooming. His next big adventure. Cool temps. 8. The Rockies in Winter. Alan and his moving angst. Computers. Zoom. Smart phones. Cancer meds. Imani Perry. A good nights sleep. Mark. Mary. Diane. Tom. Ancient Brothers. Vince. Furball Housekeeping. Ana.

    Sparks of joy and awe: Clean house. Thanks, Ana and friend. Makes my daily life better. This time they loaded the dishwasher and ran it, too. Feels good to have a clean house.

     

    While they work, I worked out. Getting in 70 minutes of quality time with my old friend the treadmill. For some reason I’ve been resisting resistance work. (see what I did there?) Know I need it. Or sarcopenia will keep getting worse. Just. Not. Doing. It. Right now.

    Might need an Ode solution. Go to some faraway Beach and walk in the Sand and the Sun.

     

    Used my air dryer for the first time last night. It cooked my tator tots while I fried my Alaskan Rock Fish on the stove and cooked peas in the microwave. Using all my electrical appliances in a coordinated fashion. A kitchen symphony. Most excellent.

    Been doing my own cooking almost exclusively over the last couple of weeks. Liking it. Lost some weight in the process. As my doc thinks is important for me to do. Four, five pounds.

     

    On paying for my cancer meds. OMG. So I asked about the billing of my orgovyx at $135 instead of $896. The McKesson finance department in response sent me every bill they’ve ever made with my name on it. Thankfully online. With the last one which reads $135. WTF. And on the Erleada. Would I like to have help with my copay? Sure, but if it’s the manufacturer’s plan I don’t qualify for it. Oh, no. This is a foundation. Not the Assistance Fund? No, something different. Well, hell yeah. We’ll see if I qualify.

    But, in the interim. No Erleada. Fortunately I have some free samples and a bit more from my last delivery. Otherwise. This helping would be creating over a two week lag in my meds. Sigh. Still, better to have folks trying. As long I have some meds. I mean, they are for my cancer after all.

    Between this and the moving target that is my thyroid stimulating hormone, some changes to my blood pressure meds and statins. Getting complex. Along with upcoming appointments to a vascular surgeon and a new pulmonologist. Dentist. And I feel fine. Except for this damned fatigue. Worst in the afternoons.

    Thus endeth the organ recital.

     

    7 more in California. Half Moon Bay.

    “In the first few weeks of 2023, at least 69 people have been killed in mass shootings across the country, including two shootings within days of each other in California.” ‘Tragedy Upon Tragedy’: January Brings Dozens of Mass Shootings So Far

    And the folks who sponsored this epidemic of gun ownership and their violent use on other humans want to take over the government.

    My heart does not like this. How much sadness can we stand until we do something effective?

     

     

     


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  • Good memories

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Winter and the Wolf Moon

    Monday gratefuls: The Good Life. Helen and Scott Nearing. Kate and mine’s version. Garden catalogues. The Bees. Their Superorganism. The Squirrel that used to steal our Honeycrisp Apples. Gertie standing on my electric fence. Those first Shoots in the Spring. Grape anemones. Daffodils. Crocus. The eagerness to get out there. Plant something. Reluctantly waiting for May 15, the last frost. The Woods in Winter. That Opossum that visited me one Winter Solstice.

    Sparks of joy and awe: Horticulture

     

    Happy and fulfilling memories. The Andover years. Kate and I working as a team in the Vegetable Garden. I handled the Orchard, the Bees, and the Flower beds, but the ongoing work of the growing season in the Garden. A mutual task. Harvesting Honey. Also mutual.

    Kate earning money allowed me to work in the Gardens and in the Woods during the day. If I had worked full-time, we couldn’t have had as much. With writing I could take a break and plant. Cut wood. Tend to the Bees. We both felt the division of labor worked well.

    We did have a housecleaner. Cooking and shopping were also my responsibilities. It was a good life. And a level of physical effort we did not want to continue after we both got older. Moving to Colorado came at the right time in our lives. Out here we had the grandkids, CBE, the Mountains. Travel. Also a good life, one suited better to our energy.

    As I said in the Ancient Brothers yesterday, even the years of Kate’s decline were good years. Sure there was anguish, pain, frustration, anxiety. But we had three solid years of working closely together again to keep her healthy and alive. In her last year I would apply lotion to her arms and legs because they would get very dry. A lot of touching. Not the rosy glow of forgotten difficulty, rather the difficulty was the point. The connection. As our many hours in the garden had been all those years ago.

     

    The same with these years after her death. Two in April. The adjustments, the adaptations. The work on the house. They have been the necessary domestic duties that kept me grounded. As did caring for Rigel and Kep as they cared for me.

    Even the cancer. Not fighting it. Learning to live with it. With the now much reduced stamina occasioned by androgen deprivation therapy. Going slower. Doing things in slower increments. Resting more. Also a good life.

    Yes, I may recognize the benefits later. Sometimes in the moment. But, I do find them. More and more the realizations of the good life I’m living come to me daily. As a result, I’m calmer, more accepting.

    Blessed be.

     


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  • Dutiful

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    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.


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  • Like a book end

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Winter and the Wolf Moon

    Wednesday gratefuls: Earth trivia. Perihelion today.* Also, happy birthday Isaac Newton! Who discovered calculus and wrote the Principia Mathematica. An alchemist, too. Kristen Gonzalez. My favorite doctor ever. Aside, of course, from Kate. Evergreen, my Mountain town. Low T. The Valley between Shadow Mountain and Hwy. 73. Mule Deer. Fog on Black Mountain yesterday. Korean. Rational, real, natural, and imaginary numbers. Geez. DNR. Yes. Approaching 76. Colonoscopies.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: A straight forward doctor, Kristen

     

    Annual physical. Kristen. Kind and wise. Thorough. Practical. Do you have an Advance Directive? Yes. If we could put it in your chart. One more place for it. Are you DNR? Well, if I’m fragile and decrepit, yes. Like I am now? No. This is only for if you die. If we bring you back, we break ribs and you end up in the ICU on a ventilator. After that you are fragile and decrepit. This is not what I wanted you’ll be thinking. I advised my own parents the same way. Ah. I see. Well. DNR then. Straight, this Kristen.

    Colonoscopy. When I had one last? Before I moved here. Well. You’re at the cutoff. Your choice. Can I think about it? Of course.

    She referred me to a vascular specialist for my left foot which seems to have problematic blood flow.

    Nothing new. But the conversation about death and the colonoscopy. If we think you’re going to live a long time, we’d stretch that to 85. The colonoscopy recommendation. Oh. Later. Huh. That means.

    A new, more realistic sense of my life span. Though not changed in length. Just the inner awareness. I’m guessing now somewhere between 85 and 90. Which was Dad’s. He died at 89. Trick now is maintaining health span as long as possible. Which I’m doing by managing my prostate cancer, exercising, eating a healthier diet, staying calm, remaining in close contact with friends and family, having a dog. Most you can do. Which is enough. Need an emergency contact. Maybe Rich?

    Interesting feeling. Like a book end. Yes, a date out there somewhere. Ten, fifteen years from now. Buh, bye. At first. Huh? A time sort of certain? That seems, oh I don’t know. So sudden? Yeah. So sudden it’s taken me 75 years to get to this point. Ha. Will welcome death when it comes. Until then, I welcome life and all its wonders. Including you, dear reader.

     

    Will see Ruth on Saturday. Breakfast at Jen’s. The whole remaining gang. Jen, Ruth, Gabe, Barb. Barb is Jen’s mother. Talked to Ruth for only a moment but her voice was strong. Excited to be back  home. To start school. I’m excited to see her.

     

    Kep has gone out and returned on his own since his stuckness the other day. I’m giving him intermittent reinforcement. Treats. When he comes back. That seems to have encouraged him to find his way home before he exhausts himself. Also warmer weather for a while reduced the Snow depth. I want the joy of wandering in the Snow for him.

     

    Seeing Marilyn and Irv today for brunch at Aspen Perks. Always a pleasure. Looking forward to the chicken fried steak and eggs.

     

     

    For 2023, our closest point to the sun comes this morning for us in North America (16 UTC  on January 4). It’s our annual perihelion, from the Greek roots peri meaning near and helios meaning sun. In early January, we’re about 3% closer to the sun – roughly 3 million miles (5 million km) – than we are during Earth’s aphelion (farthest point) in early July. That’s in contrast to our average distance of about 93 million miles (150 million km). Read about perihelion today.  earthskynews


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  • Connected

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Winter and the Wolf Moon

    Monday gratefuls: A day into the New Year. Talking to Ruth. Who comes home Friday. Bit of Snow. So far. Limits, differentiation, integration. Functions. Two youtube calculus lessons. Back to Korean. Another thousand word plus day. Content rich Ancientrails archives. Annual physical tomorrow. Flagged off Robin until April. Prepping the house for interior painting. Car insurance. Bill for my PET scan. The Ancient Brothers. Mark’s interview. Mary’s introduction to me of the god Toshigamisama, a Shinto deity. the God of the New Year-he brings good luck.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Toshigamisama, may he bring you good luck

     

    Talked to Ruth last night. Said Happy New Year. Asked her if she had gotten what she needed at Cedar Springs. More than what I needed. I’m coming home Friday. That was big news. Maybe a week earlier than anticipated. I plan to take the two of them for regular Saturday morning breakfasts every two weeks. Hope we can get back to some of the normal things like the Planetarium in Boulder. The Zoo. Science Museum. Might start taking Ruth to Dazzle Jazz. Gabe to the Rockies.

    Gabe texted me with the rules to a card game called tycoon. All the rules. It was a long text. He wants to teach it to me when he comes up next. I look forward to it. As I wrote before, my relationship with both Gabe and Ruth has deepened since Jon’s death. Grateful for that. Feels like it will continue.

    As we discussed on the Ancient Brothers Sunday morning, relationships are a key to good health. Especially in old age. Zoom has opened more venues for retaining friendships. As somebody said, I think Paul, 2D is great. Though 3d is better. When possible.

    With my buddy Alan set to move to downtown Denver I told him how important our breakfasts were to me. Why’s everybody so worried about our moving to Denver? We go down the hill four times a week. This just reverses the trip. We might have to meet in Morrison, but we’ll make it work. glad for that.

     

    I did restart my Duolingo Korean lessons. I was rusty, but also pleased with what I had retained. The trick with both Korean and calculus is to work at it daily.

    I started a youtube series on calculus. Gonna hunt around for a bit to find the best series for me. I felt a little used (recently) portion of my intellect wake up. That strictly logical part. It was fun to try to figure out how the first derivative might work before the lecturer explained it. I wasn’t right but the muscle used in thinking it through? Oh, yeah. I remember that.

    Languages. Mathematics. Music. Not my strong suits. Ever. Means I can stretch myself, torque the mental engine into the red zone. Like visiting a foreign country. Seeing how different disciplines solve problems. How working in them helps me see the world from a different perspective. Very much looking forward to the journey in both instances.

    And, when I take that trip to Korea late this year, I’ll have some ability to read signs and menus. Speak. Or, at least understand some.

    Maybe calculate the area under the flight path? I’m kidding on that one.

    Till tomorrow.

     

     

     


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  • When I’m an adult, I’m going to live up here

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Winter and the Wolf Moon

    Friday gratefuls: Gabe. Shoveling. His comment about the Mountains. Driving into Denver. Freddie’s Steakburgers. Cheap down the hill gas. A waning 2022. Alan. 14 inches of Snow plowed. The Mountains in their Snowiness. Jeffco road crews. Garbage folks. Mail folks. School bus drivers. Tolls waived on I-70. Ruth seeing Gabe and Jen today. A pass. Cold. Good sleeping. The Snowiest months still ahead of us. The Rocky Mountains. The Laramide Orogeny.

    Sparks of joy and awe: Kep in the snow

     

    Vince, in spite of Covid, cleared my drive of its 14 inches of wet Springlike Snow. Not an easy job even with a plow. Folks with Snow blowers complained. Clogged chutes. Almost an inch of moisture. Helpful at this point in the season. Grateful.

     

    Gabe offered to shovel the Snow off the deck. He took weightlifting last semester. Stronger than me by far. I usually push it off the deck. When it’s powder, no problem. But 14 inches of wet snow. Hard. Gabe took it care of it with young muscles, lungs.

    He came up Wednesday afternoon. Had to go back yesterday because of the visit to Ruth today. As we went down the hill to his house in far northwest Denver, near the airport, we counted cars in the ditch. Only 9. Probably because the storm came at night and over a holiday week.

    When I’m an adult, I’m going to live up here. He said on the way down. He loves the Mountains. Gabe will spend New Year’s Eve at a friends house. Go out and bang pots and pans at midnight. Forgot about doing that. You could stay up this year Grandpop. I could. But I won’t.

     

    Kate and I never went out on New Year’s. Drunks on the road. Noise. Too many people. A quiet evening though we did make a point of watching the Vienna Philharmonic’s New Year’s concert the next morning. We always had a nice meal and stayed up a little later than usual. Occasionally I would make it all the way to midnight.

    Not sure what my solo New Year’s routine will be. A nice meal for sure. Something from Tony’s. Maybe a movie (on TV) and a book afterward. Stay up till 10?

    I remember one cold Minnesota New Year’s day. Sorsha a one-hundred and fifty pound IW bitch coal black and stubborn and I went up to Lake George for a walk. We went out on the Lake to the deserted Ice fishing houses, walked around and through them. Guessed the Ice fisherpersons still lay snug in their beds trying not to wake up. Hangover.

    Sorsha pulled on the lead. We rarely walked our I.W.’s. Back then I was strong from the gardening work and regular workouts. I could handle her. Now. It would have been a sled ride with me as the sled. The quiet. The isolation. Solitude. A wonderful memory. She was such a sweet dog. And a stone cold predator. Anything furry that crossed her path, including neighborhood cats.

     

    Brings up the memory of Anoka County. The unsung jewel of the Twin Cities metro. Scientific and Natural Areas. Carlos Avery Wildlife Preserve. The Cedar Creek research facility of the UofM. Various regional parks. I loved having access to all those places. Usually nobody was there.

     


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  • Snow

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Winter and the Wolf Moon

    Thursday gratefuls: Snow. A lot of it. Maybe 10 inches? (measured with a broom stick and a tape measure: 14 inches) Snowed hard from about 3:30 yesterday well into the night. Fire in the fireplace with Gabe last night. Gabe and Kep. An awakening interest, renewed interest in sports. Omicron booster. Ready to eat beef tips and mashed potatoes. The Lodgepole Branches bowed by Snow. Hygge. Mini-splits putting out climate friendly heat. Power outage. Generator on during the night. A full refrigerator.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Snow.

     

    Good to wake up to a big Snow. The clocks were all blinking. A power shut off in the night. Generator took care of it. Off now. No breakfast with Alan. Too soon. The silence of Shadow Mountain, always deep, becomes profound after a big Snow. All that sound buffering. Each home feels like an Island in the midst of a Snow Ocean. A beautiful part of living up here.

    Vince has covid, but he’s got a backup guy that will plow me out before 5 pm. I take Gabe back at 6 pm. By that time Colorado will have worked its magic and the roads should be at least driveable if not clear.

    Think of the Bears in their shelters. The Mule Deer sleeping together. The Elk, too. Foraging will be tough for them today. Maybe they’ll sleep all day. Foxes in their dens. Marmosets and Pine Martens. Mountain Lions take a Snow day? Lynx and Bobcats, too. I don’t really know what any of them do in the Snow. Would be interesting to find out.

    Of course, more to the economic point Snow = $$$$. All the ski resorts love this coming ahead of the New Year’s weekend. Irony. Big Snows bring allure to Vail, Aspen, Steamboat, Breckenridge, A-Basin, Loveland. And. The havoc they play with traffic on I-70 the major land based route to get to them.

    As for those of us who don’t ski. Well. We hike, snowshoe, or put logs in the fireplace and enjoy the view.

     

    Chewy has failed me. Again. Or, rather, Fedex has failed both Chewy and me. I have one cup of Kep’s dogfood left. The order from Chewy had Sunday as its ETA. Now it’s Thursday with deep Snow. No Fedex delivery. I have canned dogfood and a supply of kibble  that was not the best for Kep’s gut. I can make it. Chewy has been regular. Order. Three days later. Dogfood. The brand I want that’s not available anywhere nearby. Venture. Over the last couple of months though. Not so much.

     

    Solid workout yesterday. Back up to two sets of resistance work. Want to get back to three. I’ve let sarcopenia weaken me and I don’t like it. I could never do the fire mitigation I did when we got here. My cardiovascular fitness is excellent, but my stamina sucks. I suspect sarcopenia and Erleada. Gonna talk with my PCP about that at my physical next week.

     

    Working most days on How To Become A Pagan. Hard for me to say how it’s going. I’m writing 500-600 words at a whack. Getting content down. The broad organizational scheme of the Great Wheel holidays seems to work. At least right now. Trying to be as heartfelt as I can be.

     


    Dogs Health Hermitage Jefferson County Mountains Shadow Mountain Sport Weather +Climate Writing