Category Archives: Family

Love is Enough

Lugnasa                                                                           Superior Wolf (new) Moon

love is enough
love is enough

A gray morning on Shadow Mountain. Cooled down yesterday, feels good. The painting and staining are done. Next up is the downstairs bathroom. Zero entry shower. Some quiet here right now.

Kate finished a project begun after my 2013 trip to the Pre-Raphaelite show at the National Gallery in Washington, D.C. This needlepoint came from the museum shop for the Pre-Raph show. When we get it framed, it will have a small plaque that reads, Vega.

Jon starts back to his work tomorrow. He’s the art teacher at Montview Elementary in Aurora, an eastern suburb of Denver. It’s been a summer of lawyers and courts, frustrations and doubts for him. He’s looking forward to getting back to work with his students. The commute from here to his school, we’re some distance west from the west edge of Denver and Aurora’s on the eastern edge, is substantial, but common for folks who live in the Conifer area.

While at the Denver County Fair, I got this photograph of three young Latinas dressed up to party.

Latinas at the Denver County Fair

 

 

Journal July 30, 2016

Last Day of Summer                                                           Park County Fair Moon

chiefhosa300We’re glad to be doing this, having Jon here, seeing the grandkids more often as they come to be with him. It’s important, as important as anything we could be doing right now. It does remind me, however, that we’re used to a somewhat more, ok a lot more, sedate style of daily life. The change is good for us though, keeping us engaged. And, a bit tired.

Yesterday we hit 90+ here. Even with the lower humidity it was downright unpleasant. Ruth was sick, Gabe, too, so we didn’t go to the Denver County Fair. This morning instead.

Jon worked on the walnut top shelf for the three lower sections of shelving in the loft. With the staining process he’s chosen, the walnut will show off its dark, close to black color and create a strong contrast with the birch bookshelving that now lines the loft. He’s also preparing the final coat on the art cart’s distressed oak table top, the oak that came from the bed of a junked tractor-trailer. Once both of these are done, I plan to spend a good bit of time rearranging my library, putting up or placing art, getting this wonderful space Kate found for me into its final (for now) configuration.

I am back at work on Superior Wolf. After I reimagined the story, taking it back to its deep origins in the primordial gods and goddesses of ancient Greece, things seemed to fall into place. I have two novels that I’ve been using as models, the sort of big thing I’d like to produce: The Historian and Jonathan Strange and Dr. Morrel. They both took a quirky, but deeply researched approach to, on the hand, vampirism, and on the other, black magic. They were original within an often cliched genre, surprising in their treatment. That’s what I want for Superior Wolf and Jennie’s Dead.

Still nothing on the Latin. I won’t leave all those years of work on the side, I know it, but I’m finding the discipline difficult right now.

 

The Harvest Season Is Nigh

Summer                                                                    Park County Fair Moon

Jon, Ruth, GabeInto Denver for the Denver County Fair today with Jon and the grandkids. Our county and state fairs, stocked with canned goods and quilts and wholesome teenagers with Guernseys and prize boars, are in the Lughnasa spirit. Lughnasa, starting on August 1st, is a Celtic holiday of first fruits. Also called Lammas in the Catholic tradition, villagers brought bread baked from the first wheat to mass.

Each of the cross quarter days in the Celtic calendar: Imbolc, Beltane, Lughnasa and Samhain were the occasion for weeklong market fairs. Goods were sold, contracts for marriage and work made and broken, dancing happened around bonfires, general merriment abounded as individuals tied to the grinding daily labor of subsistence agriculture found themselves with time free for fun.

In our hearts we are a rural country still and there is something deeply satisfying about seeing sheep, cows, chickens, rabbits in competition for some mysterious (to city dwellers, now the dominant fair goer type) prize. Yes the number of family farms is at its lowest point in the nation’s history, but we have a communal memory of the time when most of us lived on the small farms that used to dot the land. In fact that small farming culture was often subsistence farming, very similar to the sort of rural life in the Celtic countries of Ireland, Wales, Scotland, Breton, and Cornwall.

It is this underlying sensibility of lives lived close to the land that seems so absent from our political discourse in this election. We are a people of the plow, the barn, the hay rick. We masquerade as global sophisticates, but in truth the itch to grow tomatoes or to have a small herb garden is as American as, well, apple pie, which we will see on display at the Denver County Fair, I have no doubt.

Lughnasa begins the harvest season which continues through the feast of Mabon at the autumnal equinox and ends on Samhain, or Summer’s End. It is one of my favorite times of the year, only the dead of winter is better for my soul.

 

Sinking Behind Black Mountain

Summer                                                                      Park County Fair Moon

The sun is on its way down, sinking behind Black Mountain. I don’t often write in the evenings anymore because I’m usually downstairs in the house. Tonight I came up after a sweatshirt. It gets cool reliably around 7 pm or so.

It also gets quieter here in the evening. The motorcyclists have made it to wherever they were headed. The cars loaded with camping gear have found a spot for the night. The Denver tourists headed to Upper Maxwell Falls trailhead have returned to the city. No bicyclists. No one walking their dog. A few people are still arriving home from work, probably having driven from downtown Denver.

This has been a hard week. Jon’s most recent encounter with the courts got at least part of the divorce mess sorted out. Kate drove home from Jackson Hole. The last of the painting project is almost wrapped up. Kate and I went to the grocery store today, a task that proves physically difficult with our mutual arthritic thises and thatses. The days have been warmer than I prefer, though definitely more tolerable than Denver proper.

A possible arc upward does seem hidden in the detritus. Jon has more predictability now in his life. The long work of staining and painting has all but ended which means no more extra cars and people around during the day. BJ’s injury is healing, headed toward what her surgeon believes will be a good recovery. He says she should be playing again in a couple of months.

Lugnasa lies just ahead, two days. That means the peak heat of the summer has begun to wane. The nights will get cooler, the days shorter. Welcome changes.  Summer is my least favorite season and was so even during our intensive gardening days in Andover. I don’t like the heat, even the more modest heat that we get here. The vegetables and fruits and bees needed it, we welcomed its results, but not its presence.  I’ll be glad to move into August, even more so September.

 

 

Yesterday

Summer                                                              Park County Fair Moon

Kate got back last night, a long drive, 9 hours, from Jackson Hole to Shadow Mountain. Good to have her back. Home is better when both of us are here.

staing begun
Masked with the staining begun, 7/19

The painters may finish today, they’re very close. This project has taken three weeks so far. The cabinets are done, most of the other interior work, too, including Kate’s splash of bright green above the cabinets, changing the character of the kitchen yet again.

It was hot here yesterday, though pallid in comparison to Denver. We remain less humid than the plains and the nights are cooler. Minnesota has had a siege of weather related storms and heat, not over yet.

ruthandgabe 86
Beginning of school a year ago

The grandkids were up last night. Gabe reprised his week ago trick of attaching a dog bone to a long line of twine and “fishing” for dogs off the deck. This time though he used a stick. The bone worked better. Ruth had a sore throat, but was in good spirits. It was a calm, normal evening, the goal toward which all this divorce mess aims. It was good to see.

Today is another court related hearing, an important one, for Jon. We’re all going in to see what the disposition will be. He goes back to work next week and is planning, for now, to commute from here into Aurora which is on the eastern edge of Denver. A long drive in rush hour.

 

 

 

 

Becoming Vishnu

Summer                                                           Park County Fair Moon

Bhagavan_VishnuVishnu is the Hindu god of stability, the preserver and protector. When I look at the Hindu pantheon, my eye has always gone to Shiva, the god of creation and destruction, the whirling vibrant energy of the universe. Were I Hindu, I would be a Shaivite. But as we’ve aged, as we’ve become the members of our family and, for that matter, of our generation, at the edge of extinction, it has become clear to me that Vishnu defines us better.

When we stand, as we do, between life and death, life itself takes on a different color, a different valence. That’s not to say that we don’t always stand between life and death, life is fragile and death, in its entropic way, more natural. But as we veer past the mid-60’s, the path from birth to death has grown long and its terminus closer.

We stand, too, at the end of our ancientrail, able to look back over the days and years with gathered wisdom. At least sometimes. Shiva forces are at work in our children’s lives and especially in the lives of our grandchildren, creating careers, destroying dreams, unfolding the future. Our reach now extends into those lives as a somewhat distant, but sometimes intimate force, offering stability and protection. We have become the avatars of Vishnu.

natarajThe role is unnatural for me, having been more of a bomb thrower in my youth and in my middle-age, too. The Vaishnavite forces, always there, for we are a mix of all these fundamental powers, have gradually strengthened, gained more purchase. It’s possible, I suppose, to see Shiva as the radical, willing to take apart received wisdom, to burn institutions to the ground, to start over and over and over, and Vishnu as the conservative, or at least conservator, the solid, steady hand needed when Shiva’s work has gone too far.

The Hindu trinity of Shiva, Vishnu and Brahma, the God of origins, the creator force who lives now distant from the work of his creation, constitutes, like the Christian trinity, an expression of the one god in three manifestations. Like the Great Wheel it is a poetic, a metaphorical expression of the nature of reality. You may choose to believe that these gods are real and I wouldn’t argue the choice, but in my maturing understanding of religious belief, all the world’s religion are artistic renderings of the subtle and not-so subtle forces set in motion at the big bang. No, they are not all the same, hardly; but they are all attempts to give expression and coherence to the context of this temporary, wonderful miracle we call life.

So, it’s not surprising to me that in this third phase of my life, I find a purpose defined by a Hindu god. We arrive at this moment shaped and pulled by the paths we have chosen. Our ancietrail is now more experience than future. As Vishnu rises in our lives, that experience becomes his form, the vital energy that allows us to serve as anchor for our family, for our community, for the world we’re passing on to our children and grandchildren.

I said above that the Vishnu role is unnatural to me. Perhaps I should say that it was unnatural to the younger me. Now, it seems natural, necessary, good. The maintainer and protector.

 

 

Missing Kate

Summer                                                               Park County Fair Moon

imps
imps

Interior painting today. Very close to this project’s wrap. Just right because I got the contract for the bathroom remodel in the mail yesterday. Was thinking how much cash we’ve put into this house over the last couple of years, wondering if it made sense. Our attitude, in Andover and here, has been, invest the money early so we can enjoy a space that nourishes our creative lives, expresses our values and is in the best shape possible for the future. Still does make sense, at least to me.

I was wrong yesterday about a couple of things. BJ will join Kate at the Hitching Post Motel right next to the hospital. There’s a wheelchair accessible suite available and it will allow BJ to remain close for physical therapy. Sister Anne comes on Friday for a couple of weeks. Family at work. A theme of our last two years. Too, BJ has invited us back for the August 21st total eclipse. The path goes right over Driggs. I hope we can make it.

Also, Jon made considerable progress on the bathroom and the deck, but he didn’t complete them. Jen will have to hire a contractor to finish. Still, he did thousands of dollars worth of work. Some encouraging news from his lawyers. Even so this has become a gauntlet for him. One that wears him down.

Jon and I moved his ski collection and other miscellaneous things to his storage space in the Stapleton new urbanism development, then loaded up the Rav4 with its third load of items to store in our garage. It was hot and humid, draining. Dehydration is a constant danger when working outside in a Colorado summer, especially down below in the Mile High city. Much cooler and drier up here on Shadow Mountain.

Feeling a bit weary today. Want my partner home. I miss her.

So far

Summer                                                                    Park County Fair Moon

Kate takes her sister, BJ, home today from the Jackson Hole hospital. The surgeon says she’ll regain enough range of motion to continue bowing. That’s a huge relief. Can you imagine contemplating the end of a career that began when you were in single digit age? Because of a damaged shoulder? We often read about athletes felled by physical trauma, not so often about musicians or construction workers or artists (with the exception of Chuck Close). That’s not because it doesn’t happen, BJ’s injury demonstrates that it does, it’s because the media coverage of athletics is so outsized to its cultural importance.

Jon’s finishing up the last of his work on Pontiac Street. He’s done a lot though not as much as he’d hoped. A new deck and a new bathroom seem like pretty good accomplishments for a single person working in 90+ degree heat and high humidity. The divorce continues its jagged march through the lives of Jon, Jen, Ruth and Gabe. It’s slated for a mid-September to mid-October finish as I understand it. Can’t come too soon.

Here at home, the painting and staining moves forward. Getting the projects around the house finished makes me feel good. So far they have been mostly maintenance and necessity oriented: boiler, generator, new gas lines, electrical work, wildfire mitigation, the painting and staining. The kitchen and the solar panels were not necessary, but they were desirable. The remodel of the downstairs bath to a zero entry shower reflects a reality of aging bodies; we’re not as agile as we used to be. It will be finished by Samain. The only projects after that will be rationalizing our sound system and some electrical repairs.

house and garage

shed
shed
garage, one door painted
garage, one door painted

Tilt A Whirl

Summer                                                                     Park County Fair Moon

teton-pass-jackson-hole-wy-postcardSwirling. The world, or at least the part of it connected to me and mine, has taken flight, gone up in the air like dust devils. BJ had surgery on her shoulder in the late afternoon yesterday in Jackson Hole. Kate said she liked the surgeon, which is roughly the same as saying he’s a rock star. The Hitching Post, a motel next to the hospital, has rooms for $45 a night if a family member is in the hospital. She’s staying there.

Jon is rushing to finish remodeling a bathroom, put on a deck and doing other fix-it chores at the Pontiac house. He has to be out of there before Jen and the kids return on Monday evening. A restraining order makes it so. The heat-and, ironically for this arid state, the humidity-have been high. It was 99 there yesterday when he and I ate lunch at the wonderful dining table he built.

Though, for those of you in the Gopher State who read this, I know it’s been pretty bad there, too. Both places remind me of Singapore in April when Kate and I visited Mary. We managed to hike across the Singapore Botanical Gardens on a day when the temperature was within one degree of an all time record and the humidity created a watery, heated bubble around us as we walked. Can anyone say carbon tax?

Timberline Painters finished staining the garage, shed, and two decks yesterday. One garage door is green, the other will follow. Interior painting starts on Monday. The dogs, who have to be inside while the painters are in the yard will be happy when this is done. Yesterday, while Gertie and I were in the loft, unbeknownst to me, the painters sealed off the door out of the loft with 3M plastic. The mammoth bone handle knife gifted to me by Tom Crane came in handy as I sliced through the plastic. Felt like I was being born again as I stooped through the small hole with Gertie behind me.

In Colorado, so far, it has been the summers of our discontent, the winters have been fine.

Wildfire

Summer                                                                              Park County Fair Moon

wedding gwangjuKate had to take a large detour due to a forest fire in southern Wyoming. She spent the night in Aspen, both north and east of Utah. The next hundred miles will take her to Driggs where she’ll pick up BJ and drive her into Jackson Hole for a new hospital bed and examination by the shoulder surgeon. If the shoulder’s swelling has gone down sufficiently, the shoulder repair will happen at 5:30 pm.

Jon’s situation has gotten more difficult. The path forward has become murkier for right now. So much of his life is changing and in ways not fully predictable. He’s still working at the house in Denver, trying to finish before Monday when Jen and the kids return. I’m going in today and we’ll have sushi in Lodo, a trendy neighborhood near downtown.

The dogs and I have the house to ourselves. With the exception of the Timberline painters. They completed the first coat on the garage yesterday. The deck on the house, too.

Black Mountain Drive exists in the eye of a family hurricane. The winds are fierce further out in Denver and up in Driggs, Idaho. Here on Shadow Mountain we exist in relative calm.