Category Archives: Seed Keepers

Nathan and Lizzy

Mabon and the Harvest Moon

Monday gratefuls: The Ancient Brothers. The Night. A cool, very cool Night. 35 right now. Shadow curled, nose to tail. Tom. Roxann. Ode. Elizabeth. The Northshore. Lake Superior. Grand Marais. The Poplar River. Lutsen. Wolves. Moose. The Boundary Waters. My new Pendleton Blanket with the Aurora Borealis. Electric blankets.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Nathan and Lizzy

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Yesod.  Groundedness. Foundation.

Tarot: Paused

One brief shining: Rain saturates the red cinder blocks making up my small patio, indoor light reflects off them as I open the door, outside for Shadow into the early morning darkness, eager, tail high, wet cold air seeps inside. I shut the door.

 

Hanging the Mezuzah on Artemis: Irv, Marilyn, Gabe, Tara, Me, Rabbi Jamie. Nathan took the photograph rendered here in the style of Thomas Benton.

Nathan and Lizzy: I love developing relationships. When they happen naturally. Yes, I’m an introvert, proud of my solitude and nourished by it. Yes. But I’m far from a misanthrope. The world has so many amazing people, kind and skilled and offering a perspective only they have. Can have.

I’ve gotten to know Nathan over the construction of Artemis, from rough idea to frame up to raised beds filled with soil and now plants. He’s a young guy, maybe early thirties. A man of business. A handyman. A trucking company. Colorado Coop and Garden.

He has plans. Emulate Tuff Shed. A Colorado firm that started out building sheds, then went to making kits that they ship all over the country. Next year he’s renting a shop where he can work regular hours, make kits for greenhouses and chicken coops, market them to the nation.

Lizzy, his partner, whom I met yesterday, runs a pet sitting business. She has larger ambitions, too. She’s a beautiful, high energy lady with a sweet soul. And, she loved Shadow. Ah, a way to care for Shadow if I get well enough to travel. Quirky dogs are her and a few of her employees special interest. Even better.

May they live long and prosper.

 

Artemis: I planted in late July. The average first frost at my elevation has come in early September, some years late August. It’s October 6th and still no frost. My Carrots, Beets, Spinach, and Kale are all cool weather crops, can withstand low temperatures, even light frosts. Especially the Beets and Carrots improve with the cooler weather, get sweeter.

The Tomatoes, my inside the greenhouse crop, do not like the cold. I’ve gotten a great first year crop with them, but if I could have had them in a month earlier, I would have had a huge crop. For a tiny greenhouse.

Nathan and Lizzy came by yesterday so Lizzy could see the almost finished Artemis and Nathan could install hooks for my cold frame tops. With the cold frame tops I can enclose the outdoor beds so they still receive Great Sol, yet remain above freezing. Extending my growing season on the outside of the greenhouse.

Once Nathan puts hard foam insulation panels-with handles-inside Artemis I should be able to grow Kale, Lettuce, Arugula over the winter. I should also be able to grow my own starter plants as winter begins to let go.

Good for my soul.

A Paper Crown Burger King

Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Friday gratefuls: Tom. His visits. Our friendship. Indivisible. Scott in Minnesota. Paul in Maine. Standing up to the tyrant and his Zombie Mean Guys. Jimmy Kimmel. Comedy. Comedians. Concentration camps. Alligator Alcatraz. Shadow, her patience last night and this morning. Artemis. Her Kale. The Cucumbers. The Tomatoes. The Carrots, Spinach, and Beets. Salads. Well, maybe two salads.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Old, deep friendships

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Derech Eretz. The way of the land

Tarot: King of Swords, (Druid Craft)  “The King of Swords upright signifies intellectual power, authority, and clear-headed judgment, rooted in strong ethics and a connection to nature.” Gemini

One brief shining: The No Kings mobilization on October 18 gathers Seed-Keepers across the country-Ginny and Janice at the Genesee Overpass, Scott in Minneapolis, Paul and Sarah in Maine-millions over against the rise of the zombie mean guys and their tyrant don who’s really just a Burger King with a paper hat from a fast food restaurant.

 

Just a moment: I’m feeling the power begin to percolate upward, the No Kings’ map available on their website has those early days of the anti-Vietnam protests vibe.

Checked out where it began. Oddly, it looks like Boulder and a guy named Carlos Álvarez-Aranyos who founded a group there called American Opposition. If you look at the partners page on the No Kings website, you’ll see it’s grown way, way past that initial effort. Other notable groups involved are Indivisible, Moveon, and 50501.

October 18th, the next mass gathering across the country, will be, I imagine, massive. As these will need to be, so the longer term work of rooting out the rotten core of movement conservatives now engaged in shredding our derech eretz, the way of our land, and attempting to replace it with medieval authoritarian governance that brooks no difference and no opposition, can flourish.

The 18th is two days after my last ablation. I hope I feel good enough to head over to the Genesee Overpass for our local event straddling I-70. Ginny and Janice went the last time. If you can join the event in your area, you would add one more body to what must become a pyroclastic cleansing of the Donald’s illusion that this is his country. Nope. It’s ours, too.

 

Tom’s visit: Breakfast. Conversation. Nap. Dinner. Conversation. Sleep. Old guys, old friends. Together. Again. Still.

Health:  Some thoughts on cancer. Cancer does not change the journey. That is, the journey from birth through life to death. It only illuminates a possible game ender if, as Kristie said, the disease runs its course. Could be something else. A car accident. A fall. Heart attack. Stroke. In that significant sense cancer has no more valence in anyone’s life, including mine, than any of the numerous ways we can, as my father use to say, shuffle off this mortal coil. Not sure he knew he was quoting Hamlet. Probably did.

This goes along with another observation that nothing can be finally determined as either bad or good. The ripples, the tendrils snaking out from any one particular event require seeing it not only as it seems in the moment, but how it impacts contiguous and/or future events.

Sure, the second election of Donald Trump was a disaster, a catastrophe for our republic and a focused blow to our democracy. However, his reign as a paper crown Burger King will clarify for his opposition what America means. What’s worth fighting for. It will cause other nations to form new alliances, become stronger than they were when the U.S. was world hegemon. It may even disclose ways in which we need to restructure, rethink our government.

He may be a disruptor and a weasel, but he. does. not. control. us.

 

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.

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.

 

Renewing my lease

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: United flight 806. An hour out of San Francisco. United flight 1702 to Denver. Cool night. Rain. The Monsoons. Shadow out at 3 am. Now inside and hungry. Family. Friends. Alan and his Hawaiian shirt. The Bread Lounge. Artemis and her beds. Shadow Mountain high.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: My son and Seoah here tonight.

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Ahavah. Love.

Tarot:  The Pole Star. #17*  What do the cards have to say to me today?

One brief shining: According to Flight Tracker United 806 has crossed the wide Pacific to within 46 minutes of San Francisco and the continental U.S., bearing within itself loved ones from far away Korea, all seated near each other some old, some young, all on an adventure of a lifetime for the Jang family of Okgwa.

 

Artemis: Had to rig a twine support for another fast growing Tomato Stalk. Will have to do more once Fruiting starts, heavy. I’m ready. I have Tomato metal and plastic supports, more twine.

Nathan comes today to finish work on Artemis. He’ll be tidying up electrical cords, adding cold frames, lapping the Cedar shakes. If he thinks it will work, he may also drill holes in the hail protection overlap from the greenhouse roof. My idea. Let some rain through while still blocking hail.

Together we’ll have to come up with some solution for irrigation on the east facing raised bed. All in the process of learning how to make Artemis function best. This is a shake-down season. Though. I’d say the greenhouse has already proved its mettle. Go Tomatoes!

 

Exercise: Once again up to 150 minutes of moderate exercise. Feels so good. Improves my mood and, as a new study shows, also fights cancer.

A combination of cardio on the treadmill, p.t. exercises aimed at my aching back and legs, plus upper body workouts designed with the help of Chatgpt.

Moving my treadmill, mats, weight bench, weights and kettle bells down to Kate’s old sewing room has helped. In fact, I got in 30 minutes of cardio yesterday in 10 minute increments. I set my timer for an hour. When it goes off, I get up and go to the treadmill, walk for 10 minutes. Easy peasy.

 

Tarot: The Pole Star, one of the major arcana marking the wanderer’s journey through the Wildwood. Offering guidance toward the end of the pilgrimage.

Could be, probably will be, the start of a new phase of my life. Shadow and I have made great strides. Artemis has already got my full gardener’s attention. I know what’s next for my back and leg pain. These all represent a strong move into a more co-creative life.

With my son, Seoah, and her family here for a week starting tonight I can see the outlines of a new relationship to the Jangs. Closer than before.

I also plan to talk to my son and Seoah about family matters, discuss what might happen if I go into a decline (not planning on it, but then do we ever?), remind them of the estate, the living wills, the medical power of attorney.

 

 

*Spiritual Guidance:
It signifies a connection to universal wisdom and the power of your intuition. The card encourages you to listen to your inner voice and trust the guidance it offers. 

  • Healing and Integration:
    This card represents a period of healing and integration, where you can…embrace wholeness. It’s a time to let your guard down and allow yourself to be nurtured by the holistic energy of the universe. 

  • New Beginnings:
    The Pole Star can also indicate the start of a new phase in your life, a time to step forward with renewed optimism and a sense of purpose.  Gemini

 

 

 

 

Hallelujah. And, amen.

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Friday gratefuls: At 8:30 pm tonight, MT, the visit of the Jangs leaves Incheon. 11:30 am tomorrow, KT. Alan. Bread Lounge. Shadow. Artemis. Morning Darkness. Lughnasa. Christmas in July, Melbourne. Mary settling in. Mark in Al Kharj. Family, far far away. Loved. The Sprouts, Seeds making good on their implicit promise.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: My son and Seoah here tomorrow night.

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Yirah. Awe.

Tarot: The Seer, #2 in the major arcana. What do the cards have to say?

One brief shining: Forgot the excitement of watching Plants emerge from Seeds, checking each day to see the progress they’re making, often a Seed Husk hangs on a bit, discarded after protecting the vitality of the green Emergent, like a body left behind after death.

 

Artemis: I suppose you could call it a hobby. Growing things. But, it doesn’t feel that way to me. Each day is a small Christmas with yellow Tomato Blossoms fattening out into green bulbous beginnings of Fruit. With Sprouts reaching further above the Soil, their new chartreuse already shading toward a darker hue. Their Leaves, at first only two, then a stalk, then more Leaves. Artemis pregnant with so many children.

I love these early days of Plant growth, coming out of hard shelled Seed with vigor, piercing the dark, reaching toward the nutrition of Great Sol, light eaters hungry for their first meal.

The miracle of photosynthesis. Eat Great Sol’s rays, produce carbohydrates, give off O2. Grow more. Grow more. Until a red Tomato lies in hand. Or, a Leaf of Chard, of Spinach, a blood red Beet.

If there’s a category above miracle, and there must be, it would include this oh so ordinary magic that most ignore. Celebration of life its very self. We can train our eye to see it. Our hands to pick it. Our nose to smell it. Our tongue to taste it.

The Midwest, the Central Valley. Vast lands devoted to farming. Yet most of the farming now done by mechanization, fertilization, irrigation. No celebration of the miracle until it produces the other green, profit. Measuring the worth of photosynthesis against its value to the bottom line may be the ur-evil afoot in the World. That metric drains Aquifers, strips away Top Soil, erodes whole Landscapes.

Maybe I am. Maybe. A broken record on this point. Only because my joy in growing things is so great, my closeness to the Plant Kingdom one of delight, not monetized as the tech bros like to say.

Yes. Growing things, eating from the bounty of Mother Earth’s vast collection of foodstuffs, can harmonize with the needs of Soils, of available Water, of sustainable harvesting. It can be the basis of human life, a human way of being that lives long and prospers. But it sure isn’t right now.

Those Beets pushing down roots that will develop into a tasty salad fixing, the Spinach ready to spread its wide Leaves, the peppery Arugula tentative in its early growth testify. They preach in the oldest language of all, the language of life sustained by life, of life sustained by the heat of Great Sol, the much recycled Water, the nutrients in the Soil. Hallelujah. And, amen.

 

Artemis Blends My Pilgrimage

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Wednesday: Mezuzahs. Rabbi Jamie. For the greenhouse. For Artemis. Shadow coming in last night. Steroid injection. Ruth bringing my credit card. Cards We Were Dealt. New tarot class, taught by my friend, Luke. Halle, limiting my exercises yesterday. Trumpeter of his own doom. Tomatoes. Squash.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Mezuzah hanging

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei. Find the chi, the creative advance into novelty. Work with it.

Week Kavannah: Hearing on the side of merit

One brief shining: Sarah, the orthopedic p.a., had a sonagram wand in her hand as she asked me, “What fills your cup?” before she checked out my arthritic, labrum torn right hip, sprayed it with a cold numbing liquid and injected yet more steroids into my body. Ah.

 

Yesterday was an eventful day in the neighborhood. It began the night before…

Dog journal: Natalie offered to come over around five with her dog to help me get Shadow in. Monday evening. I tried turkey hot dogs. Shadow ate them eagerly outside, but when I put them on the floor inside, she turned away. I decided I’d need Natalie so I went upstairs.

When I turned around, there was Shadow. In the house. I closed the door downstairs, texted Natalie.

Before all this I had heard her barking her intruder bark. I went to check, thinking another Mule Deer might have been in the yard. Nope. Beautiful yellow Swallowtails dining on bright blue Penstemon, a front range Wildflower. As one left, another fluttered down while Shadow chased the one leaving. Barking.

 

Hip, leg, back pain: Drove over to Panorama Orthopedics in the morning. Ruth met me there to return my credit card. She and Gabe had gone to pick up pizzas for us and she forgot it in her purse. I told her I’d gotten under my patched duvet (her work) without a blizzard of Goose feathers. She smiled. We hugged and went our separate ways.

The injection took all of ten minutes. Same caveats as the spinal injections. Sometimes works. Sometimes doesn’t. Wait 7-10 days. No immersion in water for thirty-six hours. Why? Dunno.

 

Tarot: Restarting my Tarot practice by taking a class originally offered by Rabbi Jamie and Luke, now taught by Luke alone. I took the first one, got heavily into Tarot and Astrology for a beat. Figured a class would help me get back to regular readings.

A big class. Maybe eight at the Kabbalah Experience classroom, seven (like me) on zoom.

 

Artemis: Scheduled Rabbi Jamie to hang a mezuzah on Artemis this Friday at 2:30. Invited a few friends.

A mezuzah contains a tiny scroll with the full Shema written on it. If it’s on vellum and done by a sofer, a scribe, it’s considered kosher.

I want one on Artemis because it will blend my major sacred paths: paganism, Taoism, Judaism. The pagan path follows the seasons, the changes in Plants, Animals, and Climate that repeat in the cycle known as the Great Wheel.

Taoism encourages working with those changes, leaning into their subtle power, knowing the changes as the here and now expression of the sacred (or we might call it chi).

Judaism and its mystical path, Kabbalah, sees the movement of the sacred as a constant flow of divine energy that begins in the ayn sof, the great emptiness, proceeds outward toward the malkhut, this world of appearances, then travels back up again. Here in malkhut, the Shekinah, or the feminine expression of the sacred has her clearest presence. A process I see in miniature each time a Seed sprouts, a Plant grows, and I am fed by this true miracle.

Artemis blends my pilgrimage into one small building, especially when I’m accompanied by my Shadow.

 

 

 

She Also Kills

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Shabbat gratefuls: Nathan. The heater. The fan. The drip irrigation. Tomato plants thriving. Squash and seeds. The Fourth of July. Shadow, chewer of leashes. Render of sheets. My sweet girl. Kate, always. Death. Life. The time between a sleep and a sleep. Rock and Roll. Give me the beat, boys. Tara and Eleanor. Choosing Granite. Kitchens.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Photosynthesis

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei. Feel the One moving in and through my life. Flow with it.

Week Kavannah: Hear on the side of merit

One brief shining: Nathan hung the heater from a greenhouse rafter, cut a hole in the Cedar siding for the fan, ran an extension cord from my outdoor plug and threaded it into the greenhouse interior, set the fan to come on at 90 degrees to exhaust air and the heater at 60 degrees to warm it on cool nights. 65 degrees inside the greenhouse on this 48 degree morning.

 

The Greenhouse: Yes, Nathan came on the afternoon of the Fourth to work. He’s a man of his word and I appreciate it.

The exhaust fan will draw air through the windows and into the greenhouse when the temperature inside it goes above 90 degrees. It hit 104 this week. The heater will come on now in the night if the greenhouse dips below 60 degrees as it did a week ago, going down into the low forties.

This is all to make the Tomato plants glad. As my good friend Rich said, “A six hundred dollar salad.” Even so.

Having another living organism here makes me so happy. The greenhouse fills my heart in the same way Shadow does. I guess that’s my little family now: Shadow, the Plants in Artemis, and me.

Again. Live until I die.

 

Dog journal: The leash saga. I bought a yellow neoprene leash. 10 feet long. Attached it to Shadow’s collar. Not easy. She went into an immediate sulk.

The first night I unclipped it, remembering her chewing up her leash from the Granby shelter. The next day near evening I got it on her again. Left it on that night and, wow, she did not chew it off. We went outside. She peed. Wrapped me in the leash. We came inside over the devil’s threshold.

Left it on her that night, too, as Natalie suggested. Oh. Well. One neoprene leash severed from its clip. I had also purchased a pull tab leash. About 9 inches long they clip to the collar and make putting on a leash easier. Pick up the tab, clip the leash onto its ring.

Never got a chance to use it because I got the original leash I bought for her clipped on using turkey hot dog treats. High value treats.

Left the pull tab on her last night. She chewed it off. I’m not sure, but I think we got past the leash jitters yesterday, so it might not be necessary. Useless now anyhow.

Just a moment: Mother Nature feeds us, keeps us warm, provides material for our homes and the things we put in them.

She also kills people. By Flood and Fire, Tornado and Hurricane, Volcanic Eruption and Earthquake. By extreme Heat and Cold. By Tsunami and Drought. By poisonous Snakes and disease bearing Insects. By Grizzly Bears and Mountain Lions.

 

 

 

A Family Tragedy

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Monday gratefuls: Keaton Cousins. Tanya. Kenya. Carla. Lisa. Cathy. Diane. Richard. Kristen. Ikie. Melinda. Annette. Sibs. Mary and Mark. Joe and Seoah. Ruth and Gabe. Shadow. Fire. Water. Earth. Air. The Greenhouse. Tomatoes. Squash. Planting today. Seeds. Beets. Radish. Lettuce. Kale. Chard. Salmon for fertilizer for the Tomatoes.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Tiny irrigation system

Week Kavannah: Wu Wei. Work with the chi.

One brief: She was my age, Tanya, one of the five Steffey girls who lived in Arlington when I was young, slender and delicate, pretty in a country girl way, married to David, a farmer, and she died two nights ago trapped in the garage during a house fire.

 

Family: Got an email from Diane yesterday with the news that Tanya, a first cousin also born in 1947 like me, had not escaped a house fire in her home in Rush County, Indiana.

We are close, we Keaton cousins. My mom convinced my dad to move back to Indiana from Oklahoma so she could be closer to her family, the Keaton side.

While I’ve not seen most of them in a while, except for Diane, all those Thanksgivings, summer family reunions, overnight visits, we knew each other well. And care about each other.

We lost Lisa, the youngest Steffey, a while back to a stroke. Ikie to complications from a spinal problem and Annette to the end of a tough life. Now Tanya in a house fire. A large extended family withering away, one by one, as the seasons come and go.

Sadness, loss, disbelief. Faraway from the Rockies, yet so close in my memory. My heart.

Since moving to the Mountains, I’ve not made it home much. The last time September of 2015, my 50th high school class reunion. Not long after my prostatectomy. Don’t remember if I saw Tanya on that trip or not. Mary saw her this summer while visiting.

I’ll miss her.

 

The Greenhouse: Planted the Tomato Plants yesterday. In the Greenhouse because they like/need heat. Had a large Salmon fillet I had cut into portions and frozen too long ago. Unthawed them and put Salmon beneath each Tomato Plant.

Nathan came later in the day and topped off the outside raised beds with compost, installed a nifty irrigation system, picked up his trash. We shook hands, wished each other well.

He’ll be back because he has to install the black mesh fencing to keep out the Deer and Elk, the heater for the winter, and Cedar lap boards to seal the bottom of the greenhouse. I enjoyed working with him, getting to know him.

This morning I plan to Plant seeds in the outside raised beds. More salad fixings. Radish. Beets. Lettuce. Arugula. Kale. Chard. Nasturtiums. A few Marigolds for companion planting.

The Greenhouse has come to life.

 

Dog journal: My Shadow spent her fifth night in a row outside. Protecting us from marauding Mule Deer who would eat our Grass during the night. She protected us all. Damn. Night.

 

 

Celebrate

Beltane (last day) and the Greenhouse Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Paul. Tom. Diane. Luke and Leo. Marilyn and Irv. Ginny and Janice. Annie and Luna. Panentheism. The Bird of dawn. Set people free. Make firm a person’s steps. The Shema. Rabbi Jamie. Rich. Tara and Eleanor. Ruby covered in Lodgepole Pollen. Yellow everywhere. Great Sol. A slow unmasking. The vastness of space. The cosmic void.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Koi on the greenhouse door.

Week Kavannah: Bitachon. Confidence.  “A feeling of self-assurance arising from one’s appreciation of one’s abilities or qualities.”

One brief shining: Long ago in the history of evolution Lodgepole Pines developed a simple method of spreading Pollen from male Cones to female cones, blanket the air with yellow sperm, bound to hit a female cone with the aid of Mountain Winds; those of us who live in Lodgepole forests get to share in this sexual ritual each June. Right now.

 

Irony: The teflon Don (thanks, Mark) put his hand on the Bible and swore his oath on Martin Luther King Day. Now he considers whether to bomb Iran into the Stone Age on Juneteenth. The power of holidays.

No matter the resident of the Whitehouse these two holidays give all Americans a chance to reflect on our actual history, not the whitewashed, fact unburdened history the right wants taught in schools.

I didn’t know what Juneteenth was until it became a national holiday. Oh, I’d learned about it at some point, sure, but the details? No.

In case you don’t know the history well either here’s Heather Cox Richardson’s explainer published today on her Substack, Letters From an American.

I found her writing on the 13th and 14th amendments to the constitution especially helpful since the racist U.S. government has begun a full assault on many of their provisions. Birthright citizenship. Equality under the law. Federal level enforcement in all states.

Celebrate, celebrate. Dance to the music. And never forget.

 

Greenhouse: Nathan got back to work yesterday. The side insulating panels went on, as did metal Koi on the door, a special Japanese touch he added for me. Today he’ll work on the outside raised beds.

He told me he wasn’t one to dwell, that he preferred working, doing something after a shock like Takota’s death. My son has the same attitude.

I honor their intent while knowing grief will not be bound by choice or will. Grief works in its own way, on its own schedule, doing its work of reconciling absence with continued existence. Never, never easy.

 

Dog journal: Shadow now comes inside, lets me close the back door when it’s cooler outside without attempting to dive back out.

She routinely joins me in the bed sometime during the night. Her jumping up to be noticed has gotten softer, less frenetic so my skin has begun to heal.

The house and all its stairs pose no barrier for her. She roams at will inside and out. A curious doggy. A difficult journey for both of us, not over, no, yet so so much better.