Category Archives: Greenhouse

Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Greenhouse, Health, Politics, US History, World History

Dance to the Music

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Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Wednesday gratefuls: Mice. Rat Zappers. Shadow, the sleepy head. Monsoon Rain. The Greenhouse. Nathan. Chioggia. Lolla Rosso. Swiss and Rainbow Chard. Less back and leg pain. Motion is lotion. Halle. Plants. Oxygen. Carbon Dioxide. Mycelium. Fungi. Insects. Birds.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shadow

Week Kavannah:  Roeh et hanalod. Foresight. Knowing what will be needed in the future.

One brief shining: The greenhouse nears completion, Shadow slept alongside me, back and leg pain has lessened, an orthopedist will look at my torn labrum tomorrow, and my last PSA remained stable: this is about as good as news gets at 78.

 

Yep, sorry to show a ray of Great Sol shine from the tippy-top of Shadow Mountain, but it feels warranted. Shadow and I have moved further in our relationship. Nathan will finish the greenhouse either today or tomorrow. Turnkey. Filled with soil. Watering system installed. Heater for the Winter, too. Getting up every hour has led to less pain, more agency around the house. I see an orthopedist tomorrow to decide what to do with my hip. And my PSA remains stable. This could be on old guy Country Western song run backwards.

Not winner, winner chicken dinner. Not at all. But geez. So much better than a month ago, or six months ago. Gotta dance to the music when you can.

Yes, my mobility still sucks and the pain has lessened, not gone. Yes, the greenhouse is almost a month late into the growing season. I have no idea what the orthopod will say.

My PSA might rise at the next blood draw. But not today, not in this June 25th, 2025 life of mine.

Today I plan to celebrate a life lived as fully as I can muster. Dig into reading the next chapter of The Violent Take It By Force, work on my new painting, read some more Harry Dresden, pick up a quesadilla at Taco Yazi after my physical therapy. Play with Shadow. Watch some TV.

It was a hard Winter, and cold. I didn’t see it until the fog began to lift a couple of weeks ago.

I watched too much TV. Experienced a lot of pain too often. Went through the motions of a life.  Discouraged by Shadow’s reluctance to warm up to me. Hampered by chronic pain. Worried about cancer’s role in my back pain.

I hunkered down, pulled my head in. Not a bad thing to do when confronted with difficulty, no, not at all. Self-protection is important. But I got stuck there. Glad my stubborn tendency to keep moving, legs churning, head down carried me past that time. Of course, yes, my friends. My family. CBE. Amy, then Natalie. Shadow. I had help. I did. And I accepted it. (Pats self on back.)

 

Just a moment: Trump’s having a moment. Did he just bring peace to the Middle East? A headline in the Washington Post. NATO agrees to raise spending. The Senate has his big beautiful bill. Don’t get distracted. He’s still a wannabe monarch seeking a golden throne, and the whole world as fawning sycophants.

 

Asia, Family, Greenhouse, Literature, Politics, US History, World History

Demons and Devils oh my

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Summer and the Greenhouse Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Morning darkness. Shadow. My sweet girl. Kate, always. Aurora preceding Great Sol’s full reveal. Molas. The Cuna Indians, forced to move on land due to Sea level rise. Panama. Colombia. The Darien Wilderness. The Panama Canal. Ecuador. Peru. Chile. The Fjords. Ushuaia. Cape Horn. The Falklands. Argentina. Uruguay. Brazil. Kate’s retirement cruise.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: South America

Week Kavannah:  Roeh et hanalod. Foresight. Knowing what will be needed in the future.

One brief shining: Nathan stood on his ladder, rubber mallet in hand while he installed the clear roofing for the greenhouse, pounding away, engaged in the act of creation, a maker in his element with electric saws, drills, hand saws, squares, and measuring tapes, lumber.

 

Iran: Anthony Blinken, “Trump’s Iran strike was a mistake. I hope it succeeds.” NYT, 6/24/2025. I’m with Blinken on this one.

Brother Mark works in Al Kharj, Saudi Arabia. Outside Al Kharj is the joint U.S./Saudi Prince Sultan airbase, home of the US 378th Air Expeditionary Wing. The only base in Saudi Arabia with a U.S. military presence. Qatar lies about 400 miles to the northwest.

Prince Sultan AFB received Patriot missile batteries from Osan AFB where Joseph now lives. I doubt Iran would be foolish enough to strike in Saudi Arabia, its chief Muslim rival in the region and only a missile’s throw over the Persian Gulf.

Still. To have a civilian family member that close to the troubles. Troubling.

This poor benighted place, the Middle East. Religious and ethnic hatreds, hundreds and thousands of years old. Everybody packed in tight. Doesn’t say much for religion as an agent of peace and compassion.

May this ceasefire hold. May negotiations commence and have good results. May the Gaza horror end as well as the violence on the West Bank. And, may Netanyahu go to jail. Where he has long belonged.

 

Greenhouse: Nathan finished the roof yesterday so he could at least paint and lacquer inside if it rains.

Thunderstorms likely this afternoon and tomorrow afternoon. The monsoons. May they come and may they persist even though it slows Nathan. Wildfire protection trumps everything.

I finally put away the electric blanket and the temperatures dropped. Sigh. Yet. Rains.

 

Reading: I go in spurts. With authors. Genres. Ideas. Sometimes two or three at a time. Right now I’m immersed in the Dresden Files by Jim Butcher. Harry Dresden is a wizard in Chicago. Saw it described as Harry Potter for Adults. Sort of.

Butcher’s a better writer than Rowlings. Found out on Sunday that he lives in Evergreen.

I’m continuing my as deep as I can dive into the weird Christian world of the New American Reformation. An odd thing. The world of Harry Dresden and the NAR are not so far apart.

The NAR believes in demons and devils, in spiritual warfare. They also believe in political warfare and have become a solid foundation for Trump’s base.

Matthew Taylor, author of The Violent Take It By Force, which I’m reading, says we need to think of American Christianity in four quadrants* rather than the out of date Protestant, Catholic, Evangelical.

He emphasizes the Independent Charismatic Quadrant though it’s the smallest of the four. The New American Reformation is the key player here. Paula White, a prominent and highly successful NAR preacher, has been teflon Don’s religious adviser for twenty years.

The NAR has a loose organizational structure which allows them a great deal of flexibility when it comes to political action. Taylor says it was influential members of the NAR who stood on the fringes of January 6th and prayed them on.

More on this as it gets clearer to me.

1. Denominational / Institutional Evangelicals

  • Rooted in traditional, denomination-based churches (e.g., SBC, Assemblies of God).

  • Emphasize preaching, missions, conversion.

  • Historically influential in conservative politics—but less so now compared to charismatic groups.

2. Independent Network Charismatics

  • Non‑denominational, centered around powerful apostles and prophets.

  • Operate in networks rather than denominational hierarchies.

  • Emphasize supernatural gifts, spiritual warfare, cultural transformation.

  • Includes movements like the New Apostolic Reformation (NAR) books.google.com+4en.wikipedia.org+4amazon.com+4.

3. Progressive / Social Justice Evangelicals

  • Focus on issues like poverty, racial justice, climate, immigration.

  • May be evangelical theologically, but lean politically left.

  • Often positioned as a counter‑voice to Christian nationalism.

4. Mainline / Liberal Protestants

  • Include historic denominations (e.g., UCC, ELCA, Episcopalians).

  • Theologically liberal, embracing biblical criticism, LGBTQ inclusion.

  • Maintain a strong social‑justice ethos with little overlap with evangelical or charismatic movements.

 

 

 

 

 

Dogs, Great Wheel, Greenhouse, Holidays, Paganism, Politics

Feel the Fire in your Bones

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Summer and the Greenhouse Moon

Friday gratefuls: Luke and Leo. Laundry. Shadow and Leo. Buddies. Warm Night. AI. Chatgpt. Images. Mussar. Diane. Her book club and cherry chutney. The Greenhouse, Nathan’s careful work. Scott. His pollinator Garden. My son. Moving. Seoah. Murdoch. Ruth and Gabe coming up today.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Luke’s many talents

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

One brief shining: Piece by piece the greenhouse comes together, two Koi on the door, deep raised beds on the sides, a raised bed inside it, shelving for pots and space to work along both inside walls, the clear insulating sheets going in place to let in Great Sol and retain the warmth.

 

Summer Solstice: For those of you new to Ancientrails, this is the day I celebrate not only the victory of light on the longest day, but also the ascendancy of the night which starts tonight, continuing night by night until the Winter Solstice. We need the warmth of Great Sol for our plant allies to grow and we need the darkness and Lesser Light illumination of the night for our soul’s growth. The yang and the yin of seasonal change.

In Nordic and Scottish lands the Summer Solstice, much like Beltane, finds bonfires blazing, naked bodies dancing to the drums and pipes. Never got the chance to participate, perhaps next incarnation.

Stop a moment today. Feel the heat of Great Sol. Let the Sun enlighten you, fuel the dreams and work of your heart. An active time, a time to push forth into the world with the best, the strongest parts of your Self.

Choose, if you can, to feel fire in your bones, energy surging from feet to head like the sacred flow of energy from the crown of the Tree of Life to Malkhut, this tangible world, and back up again toward the ayn sof. Your body and soul, unique and irreplaceable, yet also one with the other, all others. The true and important secret not hidden from us except when we slip into routine, into habitual ways of knowing.

As I wrote yesterday: Celebrate, celebrate. Dance to the music.

 

Dog journal: Luke and Leo came over yesterday. Shadow greeted Leo. A nip here, a play bow there. Leo, a large and older Dog took his time to respond. He played a bit with her before lying down on the cool tile for a gentleman’s rest.

Meanwhile Shadow put her paws on the other chair down here, and licked Luke’s face. She takes others visiting with enthusiasm. Ginny and Janice come over on Sunday afternoon with Annie and Luna. More fun for Shadow.

Right now Shadow has the severed tail of a stuffed Skunk toy in her mouth flailing it from side to side while she rolls on her back. A puppy.

 

Just a moment: Well, red tie guy has proved more thoughtful than I imagined. Diane offered a reason. The isolationist wing of the MAGA movement having its say. Could be.

Commentary on the news, Dogs, Greenhouse, Politics, Seed Keepers, US History

Celebrate

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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.

Colorado, Dogs, Greenhouse, Health, Politics, US History, World History

IMHO

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Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Tom. Paul. Shadow, early riser. Halle, the teacher. Back pain and leg pain better. The Jangs. Coming to America. Morning service. Morning darkness. Great Sol waiting to be revealed yet again. Heat returning. Along with Wildfire risk. Ginny and Janice, Annie and Luna.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The 25 brightest Stars of the night Sky.

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

One brief shining: Stopped again at Taco Yazi’s, the new place cohabiting with the Wicked Whisk Bakery, this time for a tortas, or the beautiful mess, a sandwich with lots of vegetables and meat and a drippy sauce, a meal before my next delivery from Cookunity.

 

Dog journal: Colorado has a distinctive culture around Dogs. Many restaurants have Dog friendly dining spots, will even bring out bowls of water, maybe a treat.

If a Dog escapes their yard up here in the Mountains, folks take them in if found, post notice on Next Door, or take them to a vet to read the chip. If the Dog won’t come, we post photos.

When a Dog is in crisis, like Takota, it’s not unusual for their human companions to talk about it, show their feelings. Abraham Lincoln, Rich Levine’s long time companion, went everywhere with him, even in his last days of mobility.

It did not feel unusual at all for Nathan to take two days off from building the greenhouse. His old Dog and his Dad were both hurting. Needed him. More than I did. Fit right in with Colorado culture.

Shadow woke up today at 4:15 am. Oh, joy. I mean, I’m an early riser by nature, but… Gives me plenty of time for the Shema, the Morning Service, checking my e-mails, writing Ancientrails. And, since it’s Wednesday, putting out the trash.

I don’t mind. I now go to bed around 7:30 pm so I can get all my sleep.

 

Just a moment: IMHO. Trump will not be able to resist dropping a big, beautiful bomb or two. Only the U.S. (see, only) has the MOP, or Massive Ordnance Penetrator, and a plane, the B2, that can deliver it.

Trump’s narcissism, with which he also conflates white supremacy and the U.S. government, will not allow him to deny a moment when he, read the United States, holds the only weapon capable of exploding Iran’s Fordow bunker where its main nuclear enrichment facility resides deep underground. The only weapon. Only the U.S. Only Trump can fix it. Today or tomorrow I’d guess.

 

Back and leg pain: Turns out getting up every hour, doing something for five minutes or so, even longer, has helped the pain a lot.

My mobility remains pretty limited and I still can’t stand long enough to cook, but I have made strength gains. Yesterday was evaluation day and Halle put me through the same exam she gave when we first started working together.

I took a full second off my five squats time, for example. Slowly, slowly. Digging myself out of a hole partially of my own making.

Dogs, Friends, Greenhouse, Politics, Wild Neighbors, World History

A Sad Man

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Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Shadow, the sweet girl. Kate, always Kate. Morning darkness. Great Sol and Aurora. Toad Flax. Buttercups. Daisies. Iris. Lilacs. Mountain Wildflowers. A blue Colorado Sky. My Ancient Brothers. Cookunity. Aspen Perks. Marilyn and Irv. Paul today. Afib. Prostate Cancer. Kabbalah. Tarot. Astrology. Herme. Mary. Jang Deep.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Love for a Dog

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

One brief shining: On the hour I get up and move around for at least five minutes, often accomplishing some task like cutting boxes for the trash or emptying the dishwasher or walking with Shadow in the back, admiring the greenhouse, and to my chagrin finding this the best medicine so far for my aching back and hips. That Halle.

 

Dog journal: Alarm bark. Constant. Shadow feet forward, warning as her nemesis, the young Mule Deer Doe stood on the other side of the fence, looking quizzically at her. Suddenly, from the garage stairs, a large fluffy black Cat flew from the bottom step in two leaps to the fence and out.

When Shadow saw the Cat, little cartoon balloons appeared over her head. Cat! Cat! Cat! Her barking intensified. OMG! Cat! Cat! Cat! Both the Cat and the Doe decided it was time to be elsewhere. Good Dog. Good Dog. We’re all safe now.

Shadow has not yet learned to protect the house from FedEx, UPS, and Mark, the mailman, but I’m sure she will. Territory is territory. After all.

Nathan came to the house yesterday with sad news. His Jack Russel terrier, Takota, whom he had given to his Dad when his mother died, had come to the end of his journey. He came to tell me in person that he had to drive down the hill and have Takota euthanized.

Nathan has a good strong heart. His sadness was deep and I knew it in my soul. He’s very apologetic about the delays already, yet knew this took priority. Yes, it did.

He told, too, the story of one his other dogs, a German Shepherd he rescued from a miserable home at the age of 7. In 1990’s Conifer he and his buddies would grab a duffle bag and go camping in the Mountains. The Shepherd always came along.

Then, she got cancer. Nathan would have his mom drive him and his buddies two miles from home leaving the Dog behind. In spite of her cancer the Shepherd would follow the scent of the car, find where they left the road, and come happily into their camp. She was special, he said. Yes, she was.

 

Just a moment: If you want a good source of geopolitical information, try the Caspian Report on Youtube. My son recommended it to me quite a while ago. I don’t watch it often, but I found this explainer on the Israel-Iran conflict useful in understanding what’s at stake.

 

 

 

 

 

shadow cat mule deer. nathan and takota.

Ancient Brothers, Dogs, Family, Fourth Phase, Greenhouse, Memories, Men, Minnesota

Living, not dying

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Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Israel. Iran. The Middle East. War and peace. My son. Father’s Day. Korea. Commander. Seoah. Murdoch. The Jangs. Shadow. Our relationship. Dogs. Kate, always Kate. Evergreen Rodeo. Tourists. Maxwell Creek.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: CBE Men’s Group

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

One brief shining: Touched the framing of the greenhouse, sturdy, and began to imagine the Garden beds filled with Lettuce, Radishes, Beets, Peppers, Tomatoes, Marigolds, a favorite salad ingredient, Nasturtiums, and standing inside a heated greenhouse in the Winter, Snow piled up outside and tending to the raised bed with Lettuce, Peppers, Radishes, Beets, Flowers growing in pots.

 

Life, tactile and warm, Shadow and the greenhouse, living, not dying. Nurturing life other than my own, right here at home. As I’ve been used to doing for the last 40 plus years.

This is walking upright in the world. For me.

Yesterday I attended the CBE men’s group. Rabbi Jamie said, “I’m seeing you in person.” I finished a ten session zoom class with him on Wednesday, and I haven’t been to the synagogue in several weeks though I’ve attended Thursday mussar on zoom many of them.

Driving has become such a literal pain that even a trip to Evergreen makes me uncomfortable. Working on it. SPRINT device in July sometime. A visit to an orthopedist on Wednesday for the tear in my right hip’s labrum.

Glad I have Halle and her spirited work, her sage advice. One hour then up. A walking meditation. Dog training. Making breakfast, lunch. Getting the trash ready. Yes. Agency.

 

Father’s Day: Talked to my son yesterday. His Sunday morning. Father’s Day. Being a father in my particular way began with my commitment to feminism. Doing my part for birth control. I had a vasectomy at age twenty-six. The Rice Street Clinic in St. Paul.

As a result, when the need, and that’s what it was, the need to become a father hit me, quite unexpectedly, at age thirty, I had to have a reversal. Which never woke my little guys back up. Low motility.

Which left adoption. Raeone and I worked with an adoption agency in Minnesota to find a baby who would die if they were not adopted. At the time, the late seventies, that meant India.

Women in rural Bengal would find themselves pregnant in their eighth month due to malnutrition. The would go into Kolkata to give birth, then the babies were discarded.

Unless. International Mission of Hope had arrangements with several of the “hospitals” that took in these women. In those instances the babies were taken to an IMH orphanage and made available for adoption.

Our first referral, a girl, died due to a salmonella infection that rampaged through the orphanage. It took another year for a new referral, little Jang Deep, four pounds and four ounces, delivered in a wicker basket by blue and white garbed nuns at the International Arrivals section of the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport.

 

Aging, Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Garden, Greenhouse, Health, Politics, US History, World History

Embarrassed to Admit

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Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: CBE. Men’s group. Carol. Paul. The Greenhouse. Door and windows framed in. Seed order from Seed Saver’s Exchange has arrived. Ordered garden tools. Shabbat. Shadow, the tender. Israel. Iran. Lebanon. Palestinians. Saudi Arabia. Mark in Al Kharj. Jordan. Syria. Egypt. Iraq. Kuwait. The Emirates. War. Peace. Morning darkness. Waning gibbous Greenhouse Moon.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Cool Mountain Breeze

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

One brief shining: In a world scarred by war and diminished by autocrats daily life goes on, trips to the grocery store, conversations with friends, feeding the dog, until of course it does not. Or, cannot.

 

My Seeds arrived. Heirloom varieties all. A nod to the Seed Saver’s among us, purchased from the Seed Saver’s Exchange near Decorah, Iowa. The Greenhouse will finish up next week. With the addition of soil to the three raised beds I will get started planting.

With Shadow by my side I’ll return to the Andover/Kate years of Dogs and Gardens. At least in part. No Bees this time. No Orchard. No Kate. Still. Co-creation. Tending the soil. Weeding, nurturing seedlings. Harvesting. Eating. The true transubstantiation.

Once again direct engagement with the Great Wheel’s blessings of Rain and Sun, Night and Day, growing season and fallow time.

When Nathan finishes, I’m going to have Rabbi Jamie and maybe some friends over to hang a mezuzah on its door, bless it. Artemis.

 

Living with pain: Embarrassed to admit it. Halle suggested setting my alarm for an hour. Then, get up and spend five minutes moving around. Embarrassed for three reasons: 1. Halle can’t be more than twenty-five. 2. I’ve read, know about this life hack. 3. It reveals how much I sit these days.

Even so. When the student is ready, the teacher arrives. Halle, in spite of her youth, is my teacher. I’ve been doing this hack for the last two days and it really helps. Keeps the hips and legs lubricated plus I get something done.

Just now I went outside and played the stop, drop, turn and move on game with Shadow. Called her a few times. Five minutes well spent.

Next five minutes I’ll make breakfast. Will take longer than five minutes but that’s fine. Perhaps after breakfast, I’ll read for an hour, then at the five minute break head up to the loft to continue my painting that I started a week ago.

All easy enough. Yet habit and mood have kept me in my chair for too long for too long.

 

Just a moment: We’ve passed out of the world hegemon era to one of regional conflicts. Russia trying to assert itself in the old Soviet Bloc. Israel attacking all of its Shia enemies. China advancing its navy into the South China Sea, claiming once and always Taiwan. The renaming of the Gulf of Mexico.

A world of regional powers rather than a global one (or, two) is unstable. Many flashpoints. Iran. Ukraine. Island chains near Japan, the Philippines, Taiwan.