Category Archives: Family

Make Choices. Live Them.

Imbolc                                            Black Mountain Moon

P1020952750Selling the house in Andover. We’ve put our best effort into this sale and so far? No offers. Lots of lookers, but no buyers. It’s been four months since we closed on Black Mountain Drive which means for those four months and now a fifth, March, we’ve been paying two mortgage payments. Warren and Sheryl did it for several years and we can sustain it, but we don’t want to.

The longer it lingers, since it has a certain amount of our assets tied up, the leaner and tighter our budget becomes. Not unexpected, but not pleasant either.

There was risk in buying here before we sold the Minnesota house, but it was one we took with our eyes open. I’m glad we made the choice. This house fits us so well. Kate did a great job in finding it. Moving first simplified, by a lot, the whole process of exiting 153rd Ave. NW. And, we got to start our new life here in Colorado.ruthandgabe 86

An interstate move is expensive under any circumstances, especially when you have 20 years of belongings to move. Though we reduced by about a third, we still had a lot to move. The final tally, of course, is not in yet, but even when we add it all up, it will have been worth it.

Why? This was the time to move in terms of our health. We’re still healthy enough to establish a new life. And, moving to Colorado allowed us to accomplish two goals with one move. The first, being closer to the grandkids, was both about seeing them more often and their ages, Ruth, 8, and Gabe, 6.  As with our health, this was the time to move to be part of their lives while they still tune into grandparents.

IMAG0977The second goal we accomplished was to move into a place of great natural beauty with space for our four dogs and our mutual creative work. Living in the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains means we have a home where the eco-systems vary by altitude and the altitude varies a lot. It also means spectacular vistas, interesting weather and wildlife.

So, we chose and now we live with the choice. Happily.

 

So We Live With the Stars

Imbolc                                          Black Mountain Moon

As we drive back from our 25th anniversary dinner at the Buckhorn Exchange, the stars increase in number as the Front Range enfolds us, shields us from the Denver light pollution. “I still can’t believe I prefer living out here,” I said, “but  20 years changed me.” That was 20 years in Andover, Minnesota.

(Our table was just under this mountain lion.)

“We’re both introverts,” Kate said,”we prefer the quiet, the alone.”

Yes. “But,” she said, “we can always drive in. If we were in the city, we would have trouble  being alone.” Yes.

So we live with the stars, Black Mountain and the lodgepole pine.

The Buckhorn Exchange, at 1000 Osage Street, holds Denver’s liquor license #1. It was founded in 1893 and now bills itself as a museum of the Old West. The number of mounted trophy heads are enough to keep one man working full time dusting and vacuuming. (I asked.) There are old leather chaps on the walls, an antique pill roller, countless photographs and magazine covers mounted on the walls. It’s on the National Registry of Historic Places.

(this was the view from our table.)

We were, originally, going to have our 25th anniversary meal at Mama’s Fish House on Maui, but we bought this house in Colorado instead. The Buckhorn Exchange is to Denver as Mama’s is to Maui.

I had a bone in bison rib eye, Kate had elk and bison. As a starter, I had Rocky Mountain Oysters. They taste like alligator. Which I could have had, Alligator Tail, center cut.

A memorable evening, a fitting 25th.

Happy Purim!

Imbolc                                         Black Mountain Moon

A sunny, 55 degree Friday here on Shadow Mountain. It has knocked on that door behind which hides spring longing. One thing I look forward to is a mountain spring, but I know it will come when it comes. Still, these day make me imagine what our neighborhood, our drive, our mountain will look like without snow cover, with the aspens leafed out.

Today I went back into Ovid for the time in several months, delighted to see that my skill level has picked up considerably. I’m still far from facile, but I can see the plateau before it from where I stand now.

Then this afternoon I wrote another 1,500 words on Superior Wolf. This version, this is my fourth or fifth restart, going back to 2002, seems to have the push necessary to get to the end.

Kate’s gone into Denver to celebrate Purim* at Temple Micah. She made hamentashen, the triangular goodies associated with this holiday.

 

*The festival of Purim is celebrated every year on the 14th of the Hebrew month of Adar (late winter/early spring). It commemorates the salvation of the Jewish people in ancient Persia from Haman’s plot “to destroy, kill and annihilate all the Jews, young and old, infants and women, in a single day.”

 

 

Marital Bliss

Imbolc                                        Black Mountain Moon

When I married my Norwegian bride back in 1990 (25 years this March 10th), I did not fully appreciate how different our body thermostats were. I’ve come to enjoy cooler air around me, wearing sweaters and sweatshirts, sometimes a layer on top of that, feeling like a pensioner in an English apartment with a coin-operated heater.

We sleep in the equivalent of a cold dorm, heat turned off in the room and the window open during the winter. I like this, too, except. Except when my blankets became inadequate. Then I would have a hard time getting warm enough to go to sleep. Frustrating when you’re tired.

Yes, I ordered an electric blanket. Why I didn’t do this long ago is a mystery. I think I just wanted to use what we had available. Now, going to sleep is blissful. Warm body, cold head. Just right.

 

Here. And Not.

Imbolc                                   Black Mountain Moon

IMAG0948

With the books in organized clumps, art still in boxes, files in the horizontal file, journals, dvds and novel notes stacked together in banker’s boxes, and the exercise area functional I’ve reached a stasis in terms of organizing the loft. Kate got back to sewing yesterday, making a table runner from a pattern both she and Annie bought this last week. Her sewing area has also begun to take shape with her table, cutting surfaces, stash, sewing machine and Matilda (the dress mannequin) in usable, if not permanent places.

We await now the new Stickley table we purchased for downstairs, which will make that space more flexible when entertaining or during family game nights. The reading room, the bedroom, the living room and the kitchen all have usable, if not permanent configurations. The garage and the homeoffice remain hangouts for the cardboard set, art in the latter and mostly gardening/beekeeping/tools in the former.

Over the next few weeks Jon will install built-in bookshelves up here, attach my pull-up bar and help us IMAG0950hang art in the house. He’ll also develop plans for linking the house and the garage, a current problem spot for us. Why? There’s no straight line into the house from the garage and no path that can be cleared. We have to move through the snow to get to the truck or upstairs to the loft. Not a big deal, but one that could be better.

Kate went in yesterday and had a day as grandma, doubled with Barb’s presence. They were at Barb’s apartment with Gabe and Ruth who were out of school for teacher’s conferences. In one of those mysterious moments we humans have from time to time, Kate went from Minnesota grandma to Conifer grandma, a change that began at the birthday cum house warming celebration on Saturday. She’s now fully here (as I sense it) and in the life she dreamed about as we prepared for and executed the move.

There’s a bit further for me to go. I got a very sweet book from Ruth as a birthday present, a compilation of IMAG0942poems and images about Grandpop plus comments from her. I feel completely here as Grandpop and did perhaps sooner than Kate, but the Self that has begun to grow here, a Colorado, Western Self has barely emerged. In part I need to get my old rhythms back, the ones I mentioned yesterday: Latin, writing, art history, exercise, sheepshead, perhaps some political work. But, too, I need new rhythms: exploring Colorado and the near West with Kate, hiking and snow-shoeing in the mountains, learning the history and the geology and the biology of the land we now call home. It will be the dialectic between the old, stable patterns and ones possible only because we live here that will finally get me all the way here. For now, I’m neither fully here nor fully gone from Minnesota. Liminal. Again, still.

 

Eventful

Imbolc                                                                                 Settling Moon II

Screeching up to 68, flames coming out of the brakes. It’s been a long, strange trip so far and I’ll be happy with whatever else comes along. Forgot, too, that Ancientrails turned 10 last week. Thank you, Bangkok. The achilles rupture there in 2004 gave me two months off my feet. On March 10th Kate and I hit 25 years. 25 is the new 50 as far as wedding anniversaries go.

So it’s a season that celebrates persistence, good luck, love, typing, unexpected consequences. Just right for me.

At two years from the Jewish three score and 10 life has given me a chance to begin much anew. Now a mountain man and a westerner and a Coloradan living in an arid climate the next period will have (has had) many opportunities for adventure.

Last Sunday Ruth was up here while Jon did some handyman work for us. I mentioned the Colorado Geology Museum to her. She said, “That can be our next museum.” Seeing the adventure through the eyes of a child makes it several notches more special.

Six Weeks In

Winter                                                                        Settling Moon II

After a bitter and snowy introduction to Colorado, followed by a milder, but still snowy time, we’ve experienced mild temperatures and dry weather. This doesn’t look likely to change soon either. Not only do the western slope snows drive the ski and snowboard resorts, the total snowfall has a huge impact on that most Western of issues: water. Dry winter weather makes people twitchy here, even though ski resorts report good numbers so far.

Six weeks in the settling in part of our home work has advanced a good bit. Kate’s sewing area has begun to take shape and is free of cardboard for the most part. The reading room/dining room area is free of cardboard, too, as are the living room and master bedroom. The garage still has most of its contents in boxes, a task we’re saving until more clement weather.

My loft only has DVD’s in boxes and boxes that were misplaced during the move and now need to migrate downstairs. Since Jon and I discussed the built-in bookshelves, I’ve shifted my work with the books from shelving them in anticipation of a permanent location to clumping them on shelves according to content. This will allow me access to the books by category, while making it much easier to move them to make way for carpentry.

When packing, I had to pack the books by size, now they have to be sorted back into meaningful agglomerations. That’s taking a while, as you might expect.

We’ve already come to love our mountain home, neighborhood and area. It’s a unique area with a distinct sense of place. Our family life here has begun slowly, but we’re here now. Slow is good.

Deserving?

Winter                                                                                  Settling Moon II

Jon came up last night to handle some handyman tasks. While here, he and I discussed the loft and what I need in additional bookshelves. He suggested built-ins. I’d thought about them, but dismissed the idea as too expensive. Jon had alternative ideas about how to get there. One of them is to use pre-built bookshelves and enclose them.

We decided to go ahead. I’m excited. Being to live inside a library. Wow. I’ve had that feeling to some extent with various combinations of bricks and concrete blocks covered with raw wood, cheaply purchased particle board bookcases and self-assemble IKEA, but never in a consistent look. Jon has the skills and I have the books.

He also said something which touched me deeply. “You deserve it,” he said, in reference to a designed library. Deserve is a strong word and my first reaction was, why? What have I done to deserve a nice library? Then my third phase self emerged. No, I’m not sure I deserve one, but if he’s offering, I’d be silly not to accept.

Just so you know. We will be paying him for his labor.

 

A 50 Year Old Habit

Winter                                                                                                  Settling Moon II

Yesterday, after some bookcase assembling, I got an attack of the Sundays. This is a torpor that hits after noon on the seventh day of the week, perhaps only for those of us of a certain age. Our parents took us to church followed by a restaurant meal or a big home-cooked meal. The effect was like a weekly Thanksgiving dinner, a slowing as the body took in more calories than it usually had to absorb.

So I read Moon, the book I mentioned a couple of posts back, then watched some TV. Not vigorous, more calmed and quieted by a habit created well over 50 years ago.

Today has seen the book cases assembled as far as I can take them until I find more shelves. So I’ve started the really fun part, the organizing of my library. The bookshelf next to the computer will contain ancient history, Latin, mythology, material focused on the world of classical antiquity and its predecessors. Another large section I’m filling up now contains books related to art. These will stand next to a broad section on the United States with literature, history, religion, anything that helps fill out the current gestalt of our nation.

Right now that’s as far as I’ve gotten, but other sections will emerge as I move more books.

Can You See Me Now?

Winter                                                                                  Settling Moon II

No post yesterday! Uncommon. Got too wrapped up in doing stuff.

First instance. Drove over to Conifer III (we have three retail areas, this is the one furthest south on 285, but closest to our house) to see an eye doc about my glaucoma. Due to a screw-up (mine) with the prescription I’d been out of my eye drops for a couple of weeks and, not wanting to go blind, got an appointment. Jennifer Kiernan, doctor of optometry, is a late 30’s woman with a common sense approach.

We discussed the fact that my pressures, 15 and 16, were normal without the drops. She looked at my retinal nerve, “Hmm. Suspicious.” She says the  current move is toward no drops, using a very tiny stent to drain the pressure. “But, medicare will only pay for it when it’s done in combination with cataract surgery. Let’s see how bad your cataracts are.” Not too bad, as it turned out. “Let’s keep you off the drops, see you in a month.” Sounded good to me.

Back at home Kate and I came up to the loft and entered her drugs in medicare.gov. This was in preparation for our appointment at 3:30 with John Downing and Larry Seligman. We needed advice about the maze of plans. Larry recommended the very plan that we had considered on the medicare site, so we signed up. Here’s the good news. $0 premium. Weird, I know, but there you are. Larry said it was a very popular plan, no complaints, and it looked like a good fit. Besides, it’s only until 2016 under any circumstances. We needed to get this done because our U-Care coverage expired January 31st.

After that we asked Ophelia (our Garmin) how to get to the exhibition space where Jon had five works on display. This is the annual show for Aurora art school teachers and is held just off Colfax Ave on Florence, deep in the heart of Latino Denver. Jon, Jen, Barb (Jen’s mother), Gabe, Ruth, Kate and I were there. The whole family. That felt good.

Back home. With no thought for a post. I guess that’s probably a good thing.