Category Archives: Dogs

Dogs, Memories, Music

Songs and Dogs

Leave a comment

Spring and the Snow Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Audra. Open-Sided MRI. Chris. Engineers. Angry Chicken. Driving home into the Mountains. Black Mountain. Shadow Mountain. Conifer Mountain. Berriman Mountain. Lenticular Clouds. Cumulus. Cirrus. Rain and Snow.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Magnetism

Week Kavannah:  Ratzon.  Will, desire, pleasure.

One brief shining: Looking into Audra’s eyes, feeling her hand on mine, her thumb moving, not erotic, but intimate as Lorentz forces caused the big machine to pound and grind and whir in rhythmic waves of sound while the magnets created detailed slices of my lumbar spine.

 

Glad that’s over with. Should have adequate information about my lumbar spine. As I noted earlier, there may not be much to do though we can target any therapy with accuracy after this.

Ironically the drive in and out left me hobbling into the house when I got back.

Shadow takes my absence with aplomb. She does not chew things up, poop or pee. She seems to rest quietly beside my chair. A huge bonus. Could be otherwise.

 

Dog journal: Shadow sleeps under the bed at night. I opened the bedroom door a couple of days ago for her. Not perfect. She chews the bed slats, the carpet (which I intend to replace at some point), my nightstand. Doesn’t last long. Impacts my getting to sleep a bit. Worth it since she seems happy back in her original safe place here.

I flagged off Amy this last Tuesday. Didn’t have enough energy for her session and the drive into Sushi Den with Ruth. Chose Ruth. Desensitizing Shadow to the leash does not go well; I need Amy’s guidance. Next Tuesday.

Had her toys in a long wicker basket. Each night I would pick them up, put them back. Over the course of the next day she’d pluck them out, play with them. The used to be chipmunk, purple cat, a long red Kong and a small black one, four different balls including a glow in the dark one, and three individual socks: one of Seoah’s, one of my son’s, and one of mine.

Then she began to chew on the wicker. Going up to the loft to grab a large stainless steel bucket as her next toy bin. Chew on that, Shadow!

 

Just a moment: Bill Schmidt has asked us to load up our favorite songs for the Ancient Brothers. That’s gonna be tough.

The Doors. The Stones. The Beatles. The Animals. The Monkeys. Country Western. 50’s doo wop. Teen anguish songs. The Who. Led Zeppelin. Creedence. The Band. Dylan. Coltrane. Miles Davis. Thelonious Monk. Aaron Copland. George Gershwin.

Let’s do a trial run here. Surrealistic Pillow by Jefferson Airplane. Wild Horses by the Stones. Satisfaction by the Stones. The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down by The Band. The Weight by the Band. Venus in Blue Jeans. Teen Angel. Dead Man’s Curve. The House of the Rising Sun by the Animals. Blue Train by Coltrane. Kind of Blue by Miles Davis. Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin. Ain’t No Grave Gonna Keep My Body Down. Going Down To the River To Pray. When Will the Circle Be Unbroken. See You in September. The Queen of the Silver Dollar. Jolene.

Well. It’s a start.

 

 

Dogs, Health

Shadow. Open-Sided MRI

Leave a comment

Spring and the Snow Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Shadow, regressing. Sigh. A learning opportunity for me. Amy, coming today. Mood lifters. Open-sided MRI. Tomorrow. On the lower back pain track. Chronic pain. Teaching me something. Marrow bones. Working out. Back on. Mark and his walks in Al Kharj. Western medicine. Eastern medicine. Healing. Healers. Kate, always Kate. Jeffery Goldberg, war planner and editor in chief of the Atlantic.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shadow chewing her bone

Week Kavannah: Ratzon. Will, desire, pleasure

One brief shining: Throw a dog a bone, a marrow bone, teeth clamp on, grind, worry, scrape, tear and attention becomes total, focus on the bone, like throwing out an interesting idea in a group of Jews.

 

Finished The Black Widow by Daniel Silva and started the next one, House of Spies. An all out fiction, spy, Mossad read. Love these. Haven’t done one in a while. Always trying to be on, figuring out the world, politics, technology, science. Literally, give it a rest, dude.

 

Dog journal: Amy’s coming today. Leash training. I’ve not had much luck this week. Shadow shies away from the leash. Need to get this done so I can walk her in the back, have her practice commands. I also want to take her to the vet and to mussar. Without the leash, pretty tough.

She’s not quite small enough to pick up easily for me. About 30 pounds or so. Gone are the days when I could wrestle a Wolfhound into the backseat if I had to.

Shadow seems to be a night owl. She loves staying out late, not coming in after dark. And yes, that’s a regression. Last night I left her out and went to bed, no reason I should lose sleep. (except for Mountain Lions, but my yard is not conducive to them as hunters.)

When I let her in around 11:30, she saw the open bedroom door and made a quick run for it, got under the bed. Her preferred sleeping spot. Around 7 I felt a soft tongue on my hand. Looked over. A black and tan face smiling at me. You awake, dad?

Now, instead of eating, she’s trying her best to disappear a marrow bone. Sharp, strong teeth on our Shadow.

 

Open-sided MRI. I saw the pain doc on February 19th. Took a full month to finally get an appointment after flubbing by the doctor’s office. Tomorrow. Open-sided MRIs exist for two separate groups: the morbidly obese and the claustrophobic. I’m in the latter category.

With all the imaging I’ve had: bone scans, cts, petscans, x-rays I’ve never had an MRI. Glad to close the loop of available tech. Ha.

Even with excellent data about the cause of my back pain, it may not help. See this recent NYT article: What Works for Lower Back Pain? Not Much

I hope for something that would let me drive more, walk more than a block or two. Otherwise my mobility remains very limited. Sitting. No pain. Walking. Pressing on the accelerator. Pain.

Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Shadow Mountain

Hunting for paths to joy

Leave a comment

Spring and the Snow Moon

Monday gratefuls: Water. Lodgepole Bark, red in Great Sol’s early light. Aspen and their photosynthetic bark. Forlorn Grass, desiccated and brown as the Snow melts. Maxwell Creek. Cub. Blue. North Turkey. Bear. Kate’s. This wide world. All of it. Everyone in it. Daniel Silva. CJ Box. Authors. Poets. Painters. Musicians. Artists.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Working out

Week Kavannah: Ratzon. Will, desire, pleasure.

One brief shining: Realized that Ancientrails resembles my father’s column, Smalltown, USA, in that it focuses on daily life, his with a larger ambit, mine more personal, yet both with an occasional digression into the political or the humorous, printer’s ink and hot lead in both our veins.

 

Dog journal:  Another realization. A different female has me back at a long trained habit, putting down the toilet seat. Kate of course insisted as do women in most homes here. This time though putting down the toilet seat prevents Shadow from drinking out of the magic fountain.

Her ears stand forward. She plays all morning with toys she never puts back after taking them out. Maybe I can train her to do that? Shadow’s all puppy now. Secure in her home, her routines.

Once more. Happy I took the risk.

 

Inner life: Been down, thinking about death with every tweak and pain. Whether all this self care makes any sense. Remembering Judy and Kate both saying, enough.

Then. Come on, dude. Shadow. Friends. Family. The Mountains. Books to read. Movies to watch. Places to go. Ruth and Gabe’s still young lives. My son and Seoah.

Further. Worked out. Mood instantly better. Wonder why I resist this consistent mood lifter. One which has the added benefit of improving my overall health? A puzzle.

Gonna wrestle with this one. All the way until it gives me my Hebrew name, Israel.

In part? I’ve been too serious about my life. Always wanting, maybe faux-needing, to think I have something important, significant to do.

Joy is a religious obligation in Judaism. For good reason. This life, the one freely given, is not meant to be a trudge, a never ending journey of obligation and expectation. It’s meant to be filled with good food, good friends, family. Rich experience. This whole world, this creation, a gift so precious and wonderful. Life itself, a miracle of evolution. Amazing.

Think I’ll back off myself. Lighten up.

 

Just a moment: This morning I’m a happier guy. Peg it to my workout yesterday afternoon and my decision to take a staycation. Read 75% of Daniel Silva’s 16th Gabriel Allon novel, The Black Widow. Plan to read more today.

Subscribed to the Criterion Channel. Plan to start watching movies from it on a regular basis. Watching ghosts, as Paul’s mother described watching classic movies. There’s a cinephile buried in me, but not too deep.

I’m ready for a new pattern to emerge. Will be watching for it as I paint, maybe write a little more. No hurry. Hunting for paths to joy.

Dogs, Hermitage, Politics, Shadow Mountain

Muster Dogs

Leave a comment

Spring and the Snow Moon

Sunday gratefuls:  Shadow, the muster dog. Eating. Above ground and taking nourishment. March. April. Spring, on its way, but not yet. Our Aquifer. Cracked granite. Mountains. Altitude. Climbing up to joy.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Muster Dogs

Week Kavannah: Ratzon. Will, desire.

One brief shining: This Shadow who shares my home and my life and my heart would be a muster dog in Australia, a Dog responsible for keeping mobs of Cattle together and moving toward corrals, slinking down low, nipping at hooves, barking as a language between two species, while Shadow and I must find jobs without mustering to keep her keen mind alert.

 

Dog journal: Muster Dogs have their own television show. In Queensland, the same state as Mary’s Brisbane, but much further north, close to New Guinea, muster Dogs replace the familiar herding work of the cowboy out here in the U.S. West. Shadow comes from this line of working Dogs.

Which means I have to find jobs for her. Training is a job and so is following the training. I imagine we have much more in our future life together.

Might get my buddy Vince to build some agility course apparatus, too. We’ll see.

I am already teaching her words. Water. Food. Outside. Toy. Not commands, communication. She may be able to develop a large vocabulary.

I’ve probably been inside too long. Might be cabin fever gnawing at my sense of ease. Buddy Mark Odegard takes care of cabin fever. Mexico. Hawai’i. Returns refreshed, ready to worry the inner bark of the Mulberry Tree into a fibrous paper.

How, I wonder, could I take a staycation, achieve some of those results. Spend all week reading fiction, going out to eat, taking drives in the Mountains. Maybe up to the loft to paint, do sumi-e? Write poetry. Quit thinking about medicine, disease, discomfort for a full week. Sounds sorta nice doesn’t it? Might do it this week. If it works well, maybe a fortnight.

Shift things up.

 

Just a moment: Musk Is Positioned to Profit Off Billions in New Government Contracts. Trump Thinks He Can Win a War Against the Courts. He’s Deluded. Migrants Deported to Panama Ask: ‘Where Am I Going to Go?’ How DOGE is making government almost comically inefficient. Autocrats worldwide rolling back rights and rule of law — and citing Trump’s example. New Trump memo seen as threat to lawyers, attempt to scare off lawsuits. Putin commissioned a ‘beautiful portrait’ of Trump, U.S. envoy says.

Headlines in today’s New York Times and Washington Post. One day’s worth. The takeaway for me? Puzzlement. Frustration. Anger. Sadness.

How about the U.S. making the world safe for autocrats? Is that a rallying cry you can get behind? Me neither.

Or a President who has convinced Congress to put itself in handcuffs now taking on the Judiciary. A situation beyond the American experience.

Reminds me of a favorite kid’s game: King of the Hill. Fight your way to the top. Keep the other kids off. Declare yourself King.

 

 

Dogs, Friends, Health, Politics

A Shadow in my Life

Leave a comment

Spring and the Snow Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: Zornberg. Golden Calf. Talmud Torah. Luke and Leo, coming for a visit. Cool night. Shadow. Regression. Filling the swamp. Mastery. Death. Cancer. Back pain. Ruth, turning 19. Gabe, a junior. Mussar. Kavannah.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Equanimity

Week Kavannah: Ratzon. Will, desire. [jealousy, envy]

One brief shining: How do you count the feeling, fleeting, that carries the mood of joy at Great Sol rising from behind the turning Earth; or, the pulse of emotion as light fades behind Black Mountain, another Mountain night suddenly upon you, one carrying a nostalgia perhaps for the light or a long ago yesterday.

Dog journal: I’ve spent the last few weeks majoring in Shadow. Shadow life. Shadow food. Shadow training. Shadow exasperation. Shadow induced laughter.

A lot of progress in so short a time. From chewing my oxygen tubing and my electric blanket cord to tossing socks in the air, tearing them apart. From hiding behind the coffee table to moving about the downstairs freely. Eating well. Alert.

Ears now flopped over in front, no longer pinned back. Our communication level advancing. Then, regressing. Training with Amy. Ginny and Janice’s kind help.

One bed destroyed, each bit of soft material wrenched out through holes made with sharp puppy teeth. One bed yet unpacked, awaiting a less violent reception.

A Shadow has come over my life and brought me joy.

Glad she’s here. Fretting about weight loss, 7 pounds in a few months. Brings those intimations of mortality, always close, up into my day. Shadow shenanigans making me look up. Not today, dark master. Not today.

Maybe I should try throwing a soft rabbit toy high in the air with my teeth. Works for her.

Had breakfast with Alan yesterday at the Bagelry. A Grateful Dead themed joint. The Evergreen Chorale in which he sings will do performances of Aaron Copeland’s American Songs next week. They also travel in June to NYC to sing, with other Chorale’s, in Carnegie Hall. Hooyah.

Discovered that the drive, breakfast, and getting gas for Ruby tweaked my back enough for an unusual midday Tramadol. Mistake. A two hour nap and a fuzzy afternoon. Pain is better than that. At least so far.

Also discovered that my MRI referral had been received, but to a provider that only had closed machines and claustrophobic me requires an open one. Sigh. Back to the beginning on that one.

I find Shadow and her care, right now, drains most of the remaining energy I have after domestic tasks like working out, prepping and eating meals, doing the taxes. That sort of thing.

This drain will not last as she matures, our relationship deepens, and our mutual understanding grows. For now though…

 

Just a moment: Blowing up Teslas, eh. I get it. I mean, Elon. Who is, as a Daily Show comedian reminded us all, an African American. An Afrikaner. With his fingers deep in the American Pie.

Want to say I disapprove. And the Midwest, middle class, nice white boy part of me-in other words most of me-does. Even so…

Commentary on Religion, Dogs, Family, Health, Politics

Jesus comes to the Americas

Leave a comment

Spring and the Snow Moon

Friday gratefuls: Shadow’s morning greeting. All bounce and joy. Alan at the Baglery. Evergreen. Conifer. Bailey. Constipation. My Taos ring. Kate, always Kate. Shadow’s bed. No more stuffing. Elon and China. Treats. Shadow and her toys. Bagels. Losing weight.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Vermont Flannel

Week Kavannah:  Social Responsibility

One brief shining: Up in the air, the black sock, pounced on, the pink sock, ripped and shredded bed, a rubber ball carried as if conquered by a Roman legion, tail up, ears out, running, then looking over the arm of the chair with wide brown eyes and a smile. Shadow.

 

Ritalin. Has helped my fatigue. May have suppressed my appetite a bit. Losing weight. Could also be another turn of the cancer screw. Hard to tell. Wake up tired. Once I get moving, I’m fine. The steady drip, drip, drip of this and that.

 

Ruth’s coming up Tuesday. We’re celebrating-early-her nineteenth birthday-with a meal at Sushi Den. The Sushi spot in Denver. She’ll drive. Give grandpop a break.

She’s also bringing me lox from Costco. Cheaper yet more, according to her.

It makes me feel so good to see her proactive, loving school, reaching out, planning for her future. Next year she starts her new major, integrative physiology. Headed toward some medical career, I think.

The amount of hard work and tears she’s invested in this new way of becoming. Inspiring. A testament to her fighting spirit and the human spirit.

 

Two Mormon missionaries come to my door. Blue suits, official looking nametags with Elder in front of their names. I doubt they were twenty, maybe still in their teens.

As a man of religion myself, I honor and respect the commitment these young spreaders of the Mormon word display. I accepted a Book of Mormon: another Testament of Jesus Christ bound in faux blue leather matching their neatly pressed suits.

Elder Brommard, something like that, said I should read, he flipped through pages, this chapter first about Jesus coming to the Americas. Could of said, stop right there, dude. Didn’t.

Tempted to invite them in if they come back this weekend. If I do, I would say this: I know you want me to believe this. What I’d rather know right now is why do you believe this?

A question that fascinates me. What causes a person to cross the threshold of belief? Move from a natural skepticism to whole hearted acceptance.

I shook Elder Brommard’s three offered fingers, cold and clammy, nodded to his buddy, and declined to talk to them. Said they may come back this weekend. We’ll see.

 

Just a moment: Who would you give war plans for China? A billionaire whose company has begun to lose market share there? Who’s a buddy of Xi Jinping’s? Whose loyalty is to, what? Money. Power. White people. He’s an Afrikaner, don’t forget.

There are things I don’t understand about the Trump/Musk axis. A lot. Motive seems clear. Power. Money. Retribution. Revenge. Chaos. Mission accomplished. But the means, the stab, crash, break means?

 

 

Dogs, Health, Judaism, Memories, Mussar, Sport

Shadow and Healing. And, Basketball!

Leave a comment

Spring and the Snow Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Lashon hara. Mussar. Shadow. Twisters. Diane. Mark. Mary. My son and Seoah. Murdoch. Kate, always Kate. Cold night. Fair sleeping. Shadow’s toys. Our backyard. The fence. The shed. The deck. Rabbits. Voles. Chipmunks. Winter. Spring. The in between time. Imbolc.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Humans and Dogs

Week Kavannah: Social Responsibility. Achrayut.

One brief shining: Good news comes in, too, like the friend whose lesion seems benign, the shoulder with less pain and increased range of motion, Shadow calmer, happier, the Ritalin decreasing my fatigue, even Great Sol out for a longer Colorado blue Sky stint.

 

Dog journal: Puppy hands. Small hematomas on the back of my hand. Eager Shadow, saying hi hi hi hi hi, I’m so glad to see you! So so glad! Old skin, young nails sharp and wielded with the muscles of an excited puppy.

Shadow’s ears have finally lost their pinned back look most of the time. She still cowers and flinches sometimes and her ears go flat. I ache when I see that. Something happened to make that her response to a human. Don’t know what. Waning, though.

She owns her space, plays with toys, greets me, no longer the shy, hypervigilant Dog under the bed.

Blessings to her and those first inquisitive Wolves who coinvented Dogs.

 

Finished mussar on zoom a second ago. Haven’t gone in person since adopting young Shadow. Today I wanted to have time to workout. Half hour there, half hour back. I would have been too tired.

I mention this because I also know there is a healing energy I get from showing up. It’s substantial and balances the energy I get from my mostly private life. As do my various zoom calls, breakfasts and lunches.

No matter how private, introverted, isolated we might be we are still creatures of community. You don’t have to look further than language itself to prove that. Language marks you as a member of this group or that one and even if you only use your language to process your own thoughts you remain part of that community always.

I get healed and buoyed up as I hope to heal and buoy up others. Showing up, as my friend Paul likes to remind me, marks the other as important, significant, loved. Medicine we all have and we all need.

 

Just a moment: It’s that most wonderful time of the year. Basketball tournaments everywhere, including March Madness. Cinderella teams. Juggernauts. NBA future draft picks. WNBA future draft picks. State level tourneys.

A Hoosier thing. High school basketball. Sure, other states, but we always believed nobody else loved high school hoops the way we did.

The Lion Sleeps Tonight. That song on the school bus radio as we pulled away from the Anderson, Indiana gym. Where only moments before tiny Alexandria had won the sectional by beating the Anderson Indians in the Wigwam. (yes. not that anymore.)

I remember frost on the windows, seeing each other’s breath in the cold March air as we screamed into the night. What wonderful joy!

 

 

 

 

Dogs, Fourth Phase, Friends, Judaism, Politics, US History

The Seed Keeper’s Catalogue. And, Shadow

Leave a comment

Imbolc and the Snow Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Shadow and her leash. Amy. Ron and his Purim spiels. Joanne. Ruth of the Flatirons. Gabe and his guitar. The Seed-Keeper’s Catalogue. Jon Stewart. The Daily Show. Working out. Tara and Eleanor. Ode and his friends. Tom and the maturing men. Paul and his son, his grandson. Bill and showing up.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Days of Dogs and books

Week Kavannah: Social Responsibility. Achrayut.

Practice: continuing work on the Seed-Keeper’s Catalogue

One brief shining: Bellying through the Snow drifts in the backyard, racing from one fence line to the other, bowing and running with Eleanor, Shadow puts her puppy energy out there, laying it all on the line each moment as we do without thinking when we’re young; so much more deliberate and difficult when we’re old. Learn from puppies.

 

Dog journal: Amy came by yesterday. Week 5 of training the old guy how to live with and educate a 9 month old Puppy.

Leash training didn’t go so well. Waiting now with the leash near her water. Shadow gives it the side eye when she goes to drink. This is desensitizing her. In a couple of days I’ll attach it to her, let her drag it around if she will. Take it off. Leave it out. Plenty of treats and praise. So on. Patience. Savlanut.

I want to get her leash trained so I can take her to the vet for a well Dog checkup. I don’t see anything wrong with her at all, but she needs to meet the folks at Sano, get used to the vet experience.

Tara brought Eleanor, tall, leggy, black Eleanor over for a playdate yesterday, too. Eleanor and Shadow ran and ran and ran. Tara and I talked. She’s my heart friend.

On the fourth anniversary of Kate’s death I’m going to Tara’s for Passover. April 12th. One of those nights when I’ll drive. Her house, in Mountain terms, is not far from mine. Maybe 10-15 minutes.

While I was out talking with Tara, I saw my neighbor Jude. We don’t see each other much in in the Winter, but it was warm yesterday. He retired from his welding work in January. Started drawing his Navy pension. Will collect social security in a couple of years.

 

Got my next oncology appointment changed to an in person visit rather than telehealth. Rich Levine wants to go with me and I’ll be glad to have him there.

Mailed my taxes at the same time I mailed the fourth iteration of documents to MnSaves, Ruth’s 529. Hopefully we’ll have it figured out before she becomes a sophomore. Rich helped this time.

 

Just a moment: Here’s an excerpt from my work with chatbot on the Seed-Keeper’s Catalogue. If you have time to read this, comment on it, it’s still in very, very early stages. Not sure it’s the direction I want to go. But, it might be.

In conclusion, the Seed Keeper’s Catalogue is more than just a website or a publication – it’s a community-driven movement to celebrate and disseminate the knowledge that sustains society. Our proposal outlines a project that leverages modern technology (AI, interactive web design) and timeless principles (open sharing, collaboration, civic duty) to build a resource unlike any other: one that is at once practical handbook, history textbook, and civic guide, all wrapped in an accessible, open-source package.

By rooting the Catalogue in values of free access, diversity of content, and community empowerment, we aim to create a living library that grows and adapts with the times. Whether someone comes looking for advice on planting their first garden, understanding their rights, learning about pivotal moments in history, or figuring out how to organize their neighborhood, they will find not just information, but inspiration and connections to a larger community of knowledge-holders.

This proposal paints the vision and the roadmap: a structured yet flexible platform, rich content categories with real examples, integration of AI for continuous improvement, strategies for inclusive collaboration, and a plan for sustainable growth. With enthusiastic contributors, supportive partners, and engaged readers, the Seed Keeper’s Catalogue can flourish. It will stand as a testament to what is possible when knowledge is set free and nurtured by the many – truly a catalogue of seeds that, when planted in minds and communities, can grow solutions to even the toughest challenges like poverty and climate change.

We invite all stakeholders, from potential contributors and tech partners to educators and community organizers, to join us in making this vision a reality. Together, let’s keep the seeds of knowledge, culture, and responsibility – and pass them on, so that they may take root for generations to come

Cooking, Dogs, Fourth Phase, Health, Politics, Seed Keepers, Shadow Mountain, US History

Help Me?

Leave a comment

Imbolc and the Snow Moon

Monday gratefuls: Shadow and me. Cool nights. Good sleeping. Figuring out Shadow. Amy. Annie. Luna. Leo. Gracie. St. Patrick’s Day. Taxes. 529. Cousin Donald. Democrats, wherever they (we) are. A world changing. My son and his theologizing. Seoah.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Granite Mountain Hotshots

Week Kavannah: Social Responsibility. Achrayut.

One brief shining: We were all together, Maine to Shadow Mountain, spots around the Twin Cities, as we have been for several years on Sunday morning, talking about sleep, yes, but really seeing each other, nodding to the gods the neshama the imago dei in each of us linking arms again as we walk each other home.

 

Dog journal: My instincts about dogs came alive in the struggle over Shadow and coming inside. I realized what needed to happen.

When she came to the door, I opened it. When she then ran away, I closed it. We did this many, many times on Saturday. Many times. Now when she scratches on the glass, I open the door, sit down, and she comes in! Hallelujah. A chorus from Leonard Cohen in his raspy voice as background music.

Shadow and I crossed a bridge on Saturday, from puppy enigma to young dog companion. My confidence level in our relationship solidified. And hers with me. I can see it. We see each other now.

What a journey. 100% worth it. We needed each other and, thanks to Ginny and Janice and Heather and the Granby Shelter folks, we found each other. A journey only just begun. More doggy tails to come.

 

Have found a meal service I like. Cookunity. Not cheap, but not expensive when balanced against eating out. Lots of meal selections, easy to heat up, and all the ones I’ve eaten, six as of last night’s Chicken Schnitzel with Mustard mashed Potatoes, tasty.

I find the four meal plan works well for me. The meals arrive fresh and their use by dates make ordering a week’s worth problematic.

Breakfast I manage well. Lunch, too. The evening meal though I’ll often skip because I’m tired or at least too tired to go through the whole rigamarole of cooking and cleaning up. Still, I need the proteins and veggies. Four nights covered. All right.

Also measure the cost against having a light housekeeper come in twice a week to cook a couple of meals, tidy up, do laundry, unload the dishwasher. Probably a hundred to hundred and fifty bucks a week. This notion driven for the most part by the cooked meals.

Taking care of myself while living alone is not always easy. Maintaining chez Shadow Mountain, seeing I eat well, workout. I can do it, have been doing it, but things that ease the way are always welcome.

Fortunate to have enough money. Kate, always Kate. Still caring for me four years after dying. What a woman.

 

Just a moment: I liked the image that came to me of my age peers as the faded flowers of the Baby Bloom, seedheads ready, needing to disperse our seeds so that a new generation of just and compassionate Americans rise up when Spring finally comes for our benighted nation. Help me make this happen?

Aging, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Politics, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Seed Keepers, US History

Still Learning

Leave a comment

Imbolc and the Snow Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Shadow. Cookunity. Cold night. Drinking the Golden Calf. Midrash. Torah. Religion and its ignorers. Ginny and Janice. Tethering. Salmon and white Bean salad. Battle Mountain, Joe Pickett. The many sided crystal of perspective. Lenovo laptop.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Midrash

Week Kavannah: Social Responsibility. Achrayut.

Practice: Working on Seed Keepers, Seed Savers

One brief shining: Working with AI, an odd by which I mean new and novel experience, to give form to a Seed Keeper’s Almanac, a self-help manual to recreate an America always longed-for, yet never lived in, a hybrid format in paper and on the web, replenished and renewed by its users, focused on dreaming America as neither an utopia, nor as a replica of a faux golden age, rather as a stewpot where different ingredients in different amounts blend together into a powerful, compassionate whole.

 

An issue for me. How to reconcile my lower energy, dog-distracted, hermit favoring life with a steady felt need to stand upright in this most ridiculous and chaotic of times. Not be absent.

I write, yes. I talk with friends and family, reinforcing their desires to get out there and do something. I’m part of a religious community dedicated to a just and compassionate world. Yet. What is mine to do?

The more I futz with chatbotgpt, the more I find possibility in the idea, the bringing into reality of a self-help manual for that world I’ve worked for my whole life. A connected hermit. A dog-distracted but still alert old guy. Using my energy as I can.

 

Thinking about those isolated from this dystopian new world disorder. Trappist Monks in the Gethsemane Abbey. Amish families around Lancaster, Pennsylvania and Fort Wayne, Indiana. Subsistence farmers. Those of us old folks with adequate financial resources. (mostly. Though Social Security and Medicare…) Expatriates like Mary and Mark. Wilderness dwellers in the North Woods, in the Mountain Ranges of this great land. Oddly perhaps some Native American nations. Probably some recluses and communal living folks far off the grid.

And, of course, the oligarchs.

The rest, even cousin Donald’s base. Nope. Vulnerable. Without cover. That includes my son and Seoah. Ruth and Gabe. Luke. Ginny and Janice. Anyone unfortunate enough to be poor. Or different in a way that the oligarchs and their tattered army dislike.

This struggle will continue for the rest of my life. That alone means something to me. A need to not kneel. Not acquiesce. A need to do what only I can do. Now.

 

Just a moment: I had a no good week in part. Feeling down, dog defeated. Weak in body and mind. Took wrassling and seeing others to bring myself back to level.

That’s ok, though. Learning how to live through the troughs as well as the highs is a key lesson. OK. Learning to live through the occasional abyss as well as the getting along just fine days. Glad I’ve advanced enough for that.

Back to working out. For example…