Category Archives: Dogs

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Korea, Mathematics, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate

The Great Wheel turns for us all

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Winter and my 76th Valentine Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Alan. The Campfire. Snow. Dribs and drabs keeping the Mountains white. Going out today. Adventure! Watching women’s soccer on HBO. Motorsports Magazine. Road and Track. Bomani Jones. Going to Savannah and Charleston with Imani Perry. Doctor Who. New Amsterdam. Collard Greens and Kielbasa. With a tangerine chaser. The nudger. Lao Tze. Chuang-tzu.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Friends

 

Color me confused. Looked at my credit card statement. After all the heavy breathing, my charge from McKesson pharmacy for the orgovyx was $135. Not sure if it’s a mistake or not. They told me $896 on the phone. With Erleada yet to come. This whole damned thing. Who needs this $*!#?

 

I’m feeling proud of myself this morning. I did go through all of the boxes in the Kate dining room. Took out some, left most. When Robin comes on Tuesday, she’ll be able to load those directly into her and Michelle’s vehicles, take them to recycling. Should be time left over for the pruning I’ve done in the new upstairs office. Might even get to that walk-in closet before they come. Yes, sir. Moving things along.

Also my Korean’s improving. At least on Duolingo. When I see Seoah next, that will be a good test. Now I’m saying very, very low level learning. For speaking. Better for reading and understanding. Very low level. But still a long ways from zero. I’m picking up the occasional words on K-dramas now. No sentences yet. Amazing myself. I am working at it daily. I know both math and languages require daily work.

Hangul makes it harder. Obv. I need to go back and refresh the Hangul that came at the start. Though. The repetition has me recognizing more and more. Not sure of the pedagogy. Am I learning the Hangul through repetition? I am, yes, but is that the plan? I don’t know. Verbs? Not so much. A little exposure that I’m not sure I understand.

 

Yes, this new moon will be the 76th to preside over my birthday on Valentine’s Day. Wowzer. Closer to 80 than 70. Odd. As I’m sure everyone who hits this marker feels. Life keeps offering surprises, joys, love. I’m good for another decade anyhow. Psychologically. Physically? We’ll have to see.

It will feel strange to cross the line, if I do, past Kate’s age at her death. 76 years and nine months. October of this year for me. As it felt strange to turn 47, the age my mother was when she died.

Not sure if I mentioned here coming across Kate’s couple of pages description of our dogs. Made me cry a bit. Her handwriting. Her thoughts on the page. Our shared love of the many, many dogs we both knew and cared for. She’s gone, but her memory is for a blessing. As my Jewish friends say. Her second yahrzeit comes this April. Hard. Two years gone.

Still alone but not lonely. Me. Knowing now the Great Wheel does turn even for those we love, and for ourselves. The consolation of Deer Creek Canyon. Yes.

Dogs, Memories, Plants, Politics, Travel, US History

Stolen Work, Stolen Land

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Winter and the Wolf Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Kate Strickland and Michael Banker. Seeing them on Sunday. Dushanbe Tea House in Boulder. Diane this morning. Tom tomorrow. Tom Tomorrow! Alan on Saturday. Mussar today. Fresh white Snow. Kep, the sleeper. His sleeping sounds. Sudbury Impact Crater. Ejecta all the way to Gunflint Lake in Minnesota. Subduction. Nickel. Copper. Platinum. Paladium. Zircon. Uranium. Colorado Plateau. Placer deposits of uranium. Manitoulin Island. The Georgian Bay. The Chi-cheemaun.

Thursday gratefuls: Life in all is wonder

 

Getting a distinct Canada jones. This Origins of North America course has rekindled memories of Stratford, Ontario, taking the Chi-cheemaun ferry to Manitoulin Island. Also my trips circumnavigating Lake Superior. I’ve always loved Canada. Every since our first family trip there and I saw those road signs with the crown on them. And those Fords that looked like Fords but had a different name: Meteor. That moment on Lake Huron in Ipperwash Provincial Park. One with the Lake and the Sunseen.

Now I see this is land stolen from the Chippewa Band of Kettle and Stony Point. This story about the sniper killing of band member Dudley George in 1995. Maybe the spirit of the Anishinabe inhabited me that day.

And so back to Imani (faith) Perry and her South to America. In her chapter on the Soul of the South she talks a lot about the Black Belt, a geological region that runs through Alabama, Mississippi, parts of other Southern states which was especially good for growing cotton. The term also has a broader definition: “Political analysts and historians continue to use the term Black Belt to designate some 200 counties in the South from Virginia to Texas that have a history of majority African American population and cotton production.” wiki

The Black Belt and the Chippewa’s struggle over Ipperwash are of a piece. They are land used by White governmental and economic structures enforcing white supremacy over those deemed lesser. This is why Perry says to understand the U.S. we have to go to the South. Because slavery informed the founding documents of our nation and because the wealth of the early United States had its base in cotton production and trade. These two facts go together. The wealth of the Southern states allowed them to have an outsized voice in the negotiations creating our nation.

That would mean that originalism is ipso facto racist. It says we have to interpret only the words of the constitution and use the plain meaning of those words as laid down by the founders. Well, hey. The three-fifths clause. The electoral college. Senators two from each state. That means the Extremes are not only hard right conservatives but also standard bearers for white supremacy. Wonder how Clarence feels about that.

February is Black history month. Would be a good time to read some DuBois, maybe some Richard Wright, Imani Perry, Frederick Douglas. Margaret Walker. Toni Morrison. Maya Angelou. James Baldwin. Langston Hughes.

Back to that Canada thing though. Think I’m gonna plan a trip. True North Shore of Lake Superior, over to the Georgian Bay, cross the bay going South, Head to Stratford for some good theater. Anybody wanna come?

 

 

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Garden, Great Wheel, Great Work, Health, Hermitage, Judaism, Memories, Minnesota, Mountains, Mussar, Plants, Politics, Shadow Mountain, The Move, Writing

Dutiful

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Winter and the Wolf Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Breakfast with Jen, Ruth, Gabe, Barb. Driving back up the hill. F1. The MIA. The Walker. The docent program. My many years there with good friends and art. Acting class. Creativity class. Origins of North America. Finding the volume of a Mountain. Korean. Pruning moving forward. Interior painting, early February. Probate. Still moving. slow. ly. The Good Life. Scott and Helen Nearing. Eudaimonia. Kristen Gonzalez. Psoriasis. Mark and the USPS. Mary in Kobe. Ancient Brothers.

Sparks of joy and awe: Eudaimonia

 

Human flourishing. Eudaimonia. Satisfaction. More important than happiness. Duty is just another word for cultural norms received and accepted. Obligations. On the other hand. Imposed. Why do we do what we do?

Assessing the life that is neither heroic nor mediocre. Since that’s where most of us end up. No need to measure ourselves against the ends of the bell curve. No need to measure ourselves. But can we be at peace with a life without comparisons?

As for me, I choose eudaimonia. Flourishing. Satisfaction. And, yes. Duty plays a role. Family. Sacrifice. Friends too. Being there. Wherever love is, there is duty. To be honest. Sincere. Kind. Helpful. To support the best for the other. Right down to the end. And by implication to support the best for yourself. Also, duty. The unexamined life is not worth living. Yes. A duty to yourself to know thyself. And to thy own known Self be true.

 

What’s interesting for me right now is how much a sense of duty has played in my life. Oh, no! The original oppositional defiant guy admitting to a sense of duty. I who even rebel against my superego. You can’t make me!!! Yes, duty.

A minor yet significant example. As a convinced feminist of the Betty Friedan/Simone de Beauvoir second wave. At the age of 26. In seminary. Went to the Rice Street Clinic late on a Winter afternoon. A scalpel I felt on the first cut slashed my vas deferens on both sides. Shutting down sperm from my testicles. Being responsible for my own contraception.

Another. One I’ve mentioned before. Fits here. No. I don’t want a Johns-Manville full scholarship to college. Managing people in a large corporation is not me. Will never be me. High school.

Once convinced of Vietnam’s sturdiness as a nation, one that had held back China for over 3,000 years. No. I will not fight, nor support that war.

After reading a convincing study about the future job prospects for Ph.D.’s. No to graduate school.

Family. Staying in the fire with Jon. Ruth. Gabe. Kate in later life. Mark. Yet also. Cut your hair or leave! Leaving.

These may not at first reading seem like duty. But they are. A duty to myself, to my own understanding of how to be present in the world.

When I realized Ruth and Gabe needed us in Colorado. Broaching the idea of a move. Kate on board. Following through.

Those two and a half acres in Andover. Leaving them better than when we bought them. How? Working it out with Kate over the years. Together. Staying the course with the full cycle of responsibilities throughout the year. Each year.

And, dogs. Living into their lives. With them from puppyhood to death. Oh. Sweet duty. Painful duty. Life realized in full.

Aging, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Hermitage, Shadow Mountain

Like a book end

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Winter and the Wolf Moon

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

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

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate

Ruth comes home

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Winter and the Wolf Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Memories with Tom and the dogs. 8 years ago. 12 degrees. Dusting of Snow. Rabbit tracks on the driveway. Kep in the Snow. Ruth came home. 15 years of Solstice entries. (lost 3 years somehow) Lodgepoles with Hoarfrost. Aspen Branches coated, too. Fog. Kristen Gonzalez. My PCP. That Kringle. Eggs. Apples. Peanut butter. Yogurt. Blueberries. Blackberries. Raspberries. Sourdough bread. Ramen. Mother Earth’s bounty. Made into us, to me. Oatmeal.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ruth at home

 

Got a call about 4:30 pm yesterday. Jen. Ruthie’s coming home. We had a family therapy session (on Zoom) that went well. Half an hour later they called. I said I couldn’t go get her. I have work tomorrow. They insisted. Also, I wanted to invite you to dinner some night. Would you like to come? Yes. Of course.

We’ll see how things go. Part of the logic in sending her home was the chaotic nature of the Cedar Springs Hospital unit she was on. Back to a calmer, more stable environment. Made me wonder though about the therapeutic nature of such a place. Though. Ruth says she got what she needed. And more. May it be so.

She will go back to school starting tomorrow. Holiday break is over and she’ll start her second semester as a junior at Northfield High. A Denver STEM school. Unlike her she failed two classes last semester. One in which a teacher refused to let her make up work in the weeks after Jon’s death and during her hospitalization. Jerk. Another in which she didn’t turn in assignments. Doesn’t seem right to me.

She and Gabe both had a very tough fall semester. Jon’s death. The transition to living full time at one parent’s place. Ruthie’s own struggles with mental health before she left for Cedar Springs. Yet another example of the Cartesian split. If the body is sick, say Ruth had had cancer, the school would have accommodated her. But when the mind is sick, what do we do?

 

The Hoarfrost on the Lodgepoles make them look like sage elders, gray bearded and wise. Ephemera. It will not survive the warming Sun. The Aspen Branches look arthritic, curled up and accented by the Rime. I can see the dawn Light striking a few Trees. Gray white branches, red Lodgepole Bark, and the glow of the Sun. A beautiful moment on Shadow Mountain.

 

Kep. The fourteen inches of Snow has created trouble for him. He goes out, often breaking trail the whole time because he can not see where he’s been. His back legs tire out. So he sits. When he’s not exhausted, he finds his way back. Not sure  how, but he does.

Exhaustion makes him frustrated and he sits, then strikes off in a new direction. Maybe toward the house. Maybe away from it.

Yesterday I had to go out and attempt to lead him back. I say attempt because he’s an Akita. And has chosen those moments to become very stubborn. Glad I had those forty years in Minnesota. The cold was not an issue. It took a while but between spurts with a leash on. He pulled it off. Then my hand on his collar. He found the house and walked along it to the back door. His back legs quivered when he got inside.

He did recover quickly however. I may have to put him on a lead when I let him out. I don’t want to because he loves the Snow and wandering around in it. Still…

 

 

Anoka County, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Hermitage, Holidays, Jefferson County, Memories, Minnesota, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate

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

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Winter and the Wolf Moon

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

Sparks of joy and awe: Kep in the snow

 

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

 

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

Snow

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Winter and the Wolf Moon

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

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Snow.

 

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Cooking, Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Hermitage, Music, Mussar, Shadow Mountain

Gloomy inner weather

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Winter and the Wolf Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Safeway pickup. Safeway pharmacy. Urology Associates. Prostate cancer. Metastases. Erleada. Orgovyx. The Post Office. Kep, who finds his way. Slowly. Diane. Tom. Interlocutors. Alan. Tomorrow. The Ancient Brothers. Early rising. 5:30 am. Omicron booster. Writing over a thousand words a day. How To Become A Pagan and Ancientrails. Snow on its way. Dropping temperatures. My new weather station.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Erleada, keeping the metastases in check.

 

Read the clinical notes of my radiation oncologist, Dr. Simpson. Starts out: patient with metastatic prostate cancer. Not sure why but it nicked me this time. That phrase. Especially metastatic. That’s me. I have a cancer that has metastasized. A bit later I got the bill for the P.E.T. scan. $1,000 bucks. Then, tried to roll up the rug in my new home office. Too much. I’d waited too late in the day. Result: gloomy mental weather.

After that I went to Safeway. Pushed outside my comfort zone ( my mussar practice this month) and went inside to get an omicron booster and pick up a prescription for a drug that had run out early. You have to make an appointment for a booster. I didn’t have to the last time. We’ve always done it this way. I’m here; can’t you just go ahead? No. Sigh. Got in line, 8 people. When I got there. Can’t fill it. Your insurance company says not till January 2nd. Well, fuck it.

So much for pushing past the comfort zone. By the time I got home with my groceries. Which I was able to accomplish. In a funk. Box breathing. Unclench jaw. Damn it. None of this is a big deal. Well, the cancer. Yeah. But that’s not new.

Made myself some eggs, sopped them up with French bread. Righted the ship after a no good, but not really very bad day.

I write this to illustrate how easy it is to get off course with a nick here, a nick there. Good to have some tools. Forgot the How do I feel exercise. But. I did do notice five things. A traffic sign. The Grass. Conifer High School. The pavement. Lovely clouds. And my version of box breathing. Breathe in four counts. Hold for seven. Blow out for eight. Repeat. Activates the vagus nerve. And, take some action. Made myself dinner. Calmed down.

Chesed. Loving kindness. Not just for the other. For yourself as well. Equanimity is a middah, too. Bringing oneself back into balance. I try to remember to show compassion for myself when I get in these spots. Don’t always remember because the feelings, the downer ones, can dominate. For a while. I also try to bring myself back into balance, realize the context, get a perspective on my mood. Can take as long as a day. Sometimes only a few minutes. Yesterday was in between.

This drag happens much less these days. Hardly at all. Yet. When the blues strike ya, you gotta do somethin’.

 

Which reminds me. If you haven’t seen the Muscle Shoals documentary on Netflix, I recommend it. Highly. A small town in Alabama with a big influence on popular music. Who recorded there? Percy Sledge. Wilson Pickett. Aretha Franklin. The Rolling Stones. Duane Allman. Lynyrd Skynyryd. Bob Dylan. Bono. Etta James. Clarence Carter. Bobby Gentry. Kris Kristofferson. Steve Winwood and Traffic. Alabama. Paul Anka. Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel. Bob Seger. Leon Russel. Otis Redding. Rod Stewart. And a whole lot of others.

Worth it for the inspiration.

Colorado, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, GeekWorld, Great Wheel, Health, Hermitage, Judaism, Kabbalah, Memories, Minnesota, Mountains, Mussar, Our Land and Home, Plants, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Shadow Mountain, Talmud, The Move, The West, Torah, Travel, Weather +Climate

So much to see. To learn.

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Winter and the Wolf Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: 8 years in Colorado. On the Solstice. The long dog ride with Tom. Memories. Challenges. Family. Death. Divorce. Mental and physical illnesses. Beauty. The Rocky Mountains. The Wild Neighbors. Mountain hiking. Deep snow. Sudden. Then, suddenly gone. Living at altitude. Becoming a member of CBE. Elk and Mule Deer visiting our back. Blue Skies. Black Mountain. Vega. Gertie. Rigel. Kep. Kate, always Kate. Who loved the Mountains.

Sparks of joy and awe: That dog ride 8 years ago. Talking story.

 

Back of the car anthropology. Two vanity plates. YAHWEHS. ODACIOUS. The first on a jet black fancy Audi. The other on a Lexus sedan. Also. Stickers. I heart Aging and Dying. No baby on board. Feel free to ram me. Toyoda. With yoda ears on the T and the a. I love the way we express ourselves on the back of our vehicles. So revealing. Full disclosure. I have a large decal of Lake Superior on the back window of Ruby. And, an ADL Dissent is Patriotic on a side window. There are too the cars seemingly held together by stickers like the occupants got started on the project and just. couldn’t. stop.

 

On December 20th, 2014 Tom Crane and I loaded Rigel, Vega, and Kep in Ivory. All three trazodoned. Tom drove straight through. We talked the whole way. Talking story. The conversation continues now, eight years later. Gertie rode with Kate in the rental van filled with stuff we didn’t want the movers to take. I remember Kate telling me she bought Gertie a hamburger at one of their stops. A satisfied dog.

These have not been easy years. No. They have been fulfilling, satisfying years though. Deep intimacy between Kate and me, especially as she began her long decline. Putting cancer in the chronic illness box. Being here for the kids and Jon after the divorce. Now for Ruth and Gabe after Jon’s death. Becoming part of the CBE community. Making friends. Learning from the ancient civilization of the Jews. Kabbalah. The Torah. Mussar. Talmud. Mitzvahs.

The Wild Neighbors. The Mountains. The Streams. The hiking. Mountain adjustments. Four Seasons. Eight Seasons. The Mountain Fall. Golden Aspens. Against green Lodgepoles. Black Mountain punctuated with gold, then green. Snow flocked in Winter. Wildflowers in the Mountain Spring. Fawns. Kits. Cubs. Elk and Moose Calves. The long Summers. Beautiful in their own right, yet also angsty with the ever present threat of Wildfire.

Living here has been, is an adventure. In relationships. In deep learning. An immersion in the world of Mountains. After the world of Lakes and Rivers and rich Soil.

So much more to see. To learn.

 

Visited Carmax yesterday. The Jeep. Prepared to sell it, then Uber home. A first for me. But. Can’t take a North Carolina power of attorney. Colorado makes it difficult. Do you want me to get you the necessary papers? Yes. Talked to Sarah while the nice lady in the blue Carmax smock did that. Took fifteen minutes. Many pieces of paper. Post it notes. Sign here stickers. OK. Thanks. Back up the hill.

 

Got two calendars as presents.  Aimed at different parts of me. A Zen Calendar from Tom. A New Yorker Cartoons calendar from Sarah and Jerry. Yep. I recognize both of those guys as resident within me. Wonderful to be seen.

 

 

Colorado, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Hermitage, Jefferson County, Shadow Mountain, Travel, Weather +Climate

A day with Ruth

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Winter and the Wolf Moon

Sunday (Christmas) gratefuls: The gift of incarnation. Of life. In Ruth. In Kep. In the Lodgepoles. In the Water of Maxwell Creek. In the Stone of Shadow Mountain. In the life sustaining Air. In the powerful Fire. In the rich and ever giving Soil. In my own body. A visit with Ruth. Colorado Springs. Pine Valley Road. North Fork of the South Platte. Woodland Park. The Rescue Mission in the underbelly of Colorado Springs. The rickety houses in the neighborhood around it. All those cracks where the light comes in.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ruth

 

Two decisions. Neither major. Took a while. Should I go the safe route down to Colorado Springs. 470 to I-25. Or take the beautiful Pine Valley Road and risk having my AWD malfunction light come on, return me to front wheel drive? Maybe something worse? Should I take Kep again with me to see Ruth? He seemed to enjoy it. Or should I leave him at home and come back to a puddle or two? Fussed with them for a while. Longer than I needed to. Miss having a second voice here. Kate’s.

Took Pine Valley Road and left Kep in the new dining room with the door closed to the rest of the house. Called Susan Taylor and paid her to come feed him at 2 pm, stay with him for a while to let him in and out a few times. No puddles. A happy Kep when I returned. Yay.

The Pine Valley Road had more up and down, more curves than I remembered. More snow than I expected. Beautiful. Minnesota driving skills made it easy peasy. The North Fork of the South Platte which carves the valley was no longer frozen over, running cold over Stones and around sweeping bends. No fly fisherman like there would have been on a more clement Saturday. Flash flood warning signs near Cheeseman Reservoir, one of the big ones for the city of Denver. Not visible from the switchbacks that take the road past it.

A journey of Mountains and Streams, landscapes with Mountains in the distance. Pikes Peak among them. The Pike National Forest. Campgrounds. Those National Forest Service signs. A series of curves with signs: Motorcyclists exercise extreme caution! Little traffic. Past Decker. Eventually into Woodland Park. A Mountain town ready for the tourist dollar.

Into Colorado Springs the back way past Manitou Springs where the Pikes Peak Cog Railroad chugs up the Mountain. Got a little turned around and found the raggedy edge of the Springs. Shotgun houses with cars and appliances permanently parked around them. A brave Rainbow flag flying graced one. Maybe three blocks. Then a have to left turn which took me past the Rescue Mission as the men, all men as far as I could see, were leaving the building for a day on the streets. Some stopping, conversing. Others trudging on toward their spots or their camps. Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Yeah.

 

Found Ruth. Juniper building. A phone on the wall. Punched 0 for the receptionist. A voice, very faint. yes. Here to see Ruth Olson. what. Ruth Olson. I know, but she has a pass. oh. Finally two women came. Here for Ruth? She’s very excited. Such a sweet girl. Yes, I agree. A very sweet girl.

She came out wearing one of Kate’s jackets. A thin one. Would later complain of being cold. A big smile and a hug. I’m leaving the building with no techs! She shook her head in amazement. Her first pass since she got there the Friday before Thanksgiving.

In the car we made plans. Limited plans. It was Christmas Eve and all the museums were closed. And there were a lot of museums. The Zoo? Too cold. She opened all her Hanukah presents. Happy with Smart Wool socks, the notebook from Annie, the oil paints from Sarah and Jerry, the chocolate I brought her. A kiddie moment for a too soon mature 16 year old going on 30.

Food? Yeah, I’m hungry. Sushi? Yeah. I know a place. I asked Alexis. We found Uri sushi. In the hood, Alexis said. A pretty upscale hood imho. Wonderful sushi. Alexis was right about that. We had the sashimi combo and three rolls. Ruth ate. Happy to be out of the hospital. In a restaurant on her own with only her grandpop. No staff. No walls. No fences. No two sliding gates to get in and out.

Next out to Anthony’s Nails in the upscale Briargate Mall. You know. Lululemon. Anthropologie. Boutique clothing stores. An Apple store. That sort of thing.

A mani-pedi for both of us. Ruth took control. I’ll talk to them. She told them what I wanted, then went to the three bookshelf sized collection of colors to choose a gel for her toes and one for her fingers. A pinkish silver and a sparkly black. A petite Vietnamese woman with an elf hat on came to me and we walked back to the pedicure chairs.

If you’ve never done this, pedicure chairs are something. Many have massage rollers in the chairback. Mine did not. They do have a throne like feel. The person receiving the pedicure sits high up above the person working on their feet. Somewhat Jesus like it just occurred to me. There’s a small plastic lined bathtub for your feet into which hot to warm water pours.

My elf hatted lady opened her rolling container of tools, taking out nail clippers. Ruth sat beside me. This place was fancy. Two rows of pedicure chairs the length of the store with the nail stands in the middle. A water feature in the back. White columns separating the ranks of six pedicure chairs from each other. A bar up front with mineral water, a water tank filled with lemons and apple slices. Even liquor.

I had on a Vermont Flannel shirt and jeans. Ruth had on Kate’s old jacket and black sweat pants. We were not dressed for the occasion. Made it a bit more fun.

We continued our conversation begun over sushi while the two women cut our nails, pushed back the cuticles, trimmed and massaged our feet. Ruth was more open and more clear than she had been. Much less defensive. We spoke about her Dad, family counseling sessions. Her visits to equine therapy and the therapy dogs. The other folks in her building. Their antics.

The next stop was to be a bookstore, but Ruth remembered the Garden of the Gods. We drove there. I’ve never been. We didn’t get out. Again, too cold and grandpop was getting tired. Shards of red rock let alone, spread out from each other. Tall and majestic. Balancing rock which Ruth remembered climbing as a little girl.

The road through Garden of the Gods ends near Manitou Springs, another Mountain town ready for the tourist dollar. We decided to drive through it since Ruth had never seen it. I pointed out a person in costume. That’s not just a costume, grandpop. That’s a furry. Oh. I’m gonna tell everybody when I get back that I saw a furry. Well, we all have our ways to hide.

We did find the bookstore. Not the one Ruth wanted, but the Springs branch of Tattered Covers, the most well known Denver bookstore. We wandered through it pointing at books we’d read. Have you read this? No. Oh, this is wonderful. Yes, I liked it too.

At that point Ruth had worn out and I was ready to head home. I signed her back in at 6 pm, left the sliding wire gates behind me and drove back to Shadow Mountain and Kep.