Category Archives: Family

Liberalism on the Rise

Double tree has computers, but they come out in this really big font and I can’t figure out how to decrease the size.  So, I’ll. just. shout. it.  out.  o. k. ?

When I left Jon and Jen’s last night, Barb was still at the ER at University Hospital.  I’m headed over there now to help with housecleaning, so I’ll find out what  happened.

There’s a line now at the computers.  That’s what comes with socialism, when everything’s free.  Or, at least when the cost is hidden.  Gal just stood, drinking coffee, looking at me.  Passive aggressive.

Read the newspaper this morning about the economy.  Bad news.  Which is  good news for Democrats.   Also, an interesting article by somebody named Jonathan Goldberg.  He’s an editor of the National Review and author of a book, Liberal Fascism. 

His perspective is that conservativism will rise again.  He said over and over that Republican does not equal conservatism.  The current administration spent like “a pimp with a week to live.”  A colorful metaphor.  I suspect the gut of his argument is correct, however, and that is that conservatism is a part of the American ethos and will only be challenged by a liberal ascendancy, not obliterated. 

We can only  hope that first, the ascendancy will happen, and that it will produce affects that have a long shelf life, like Social Security and Medicare.  Which do need to get fixed.  Amen.

OK.  Out for now.  See you on the flipside of the bris.

In Crip’s Territory

At Jon and Jen’s.  Held Gabe for an hour.  We had guy to guy chats, his little blue eyes looking up and his mouth forming that curve babies use to indicate they know where communication comes from.  He’s swaddled now and in his downstairs bed.

A crack of thunder, a lightning flash and rain.  Nice cool down. A fan is on so the room has a nice cross breeze.  Denver is high and the altitude thinner so sunburn and heat pound on bare human flesh.  Likewise, though, in the evening, once the sun goes down, a pleasant coolness settles over the city.  With few bugs summer evenings have a high human pleasure index.

Jen’s mom, Barb cut her foot on a hotel door.  She went to Urgent Care where they couldn’t stop the bleeding.  Ironic, eh, with little hemophiliac Gabe about to have his bris tomorrow?  So, Jen has left to take Barb to the University ER.  

We had plans to go to a Brazilian steak house, but we’ve decided on take-out sushi instead.  Jon’s taken off to get the sushi.  He’ll take Jen’s order over to the ER.  So, I’m here with Gabe and Ruth, both asleep.  I’ve got a bit of hummus and some goat cheese as an appetizer.

The redevelopment of Stapleton Airport, just blocks from Jon and Jen’s house, is a major urban infill project.  Lots of new housing and lots of new upscale shops.  This, too, is ironic since Jon’s neighborhood has the reputation in Denver as the ghetto. It is a mixed income area with the poor and the middle class sharing property lines.  On the whole it seems a pretty calm place, though Jon says it is Crips territory.  He also says the occasional crackhead will break into houses looking for loot.

Barb’s injury on the eve of Gabe’s bris is family.   The connected web makes her injury now a part of family lore.  Had an odd thought while holding Gabe yesterday.  I am now in the generation that will be remembered, no longer am I part of the generation that remembers.  This underlines the long and ancient trail of generational succession, reaching back to those brave folks who walked out of Africa and stretching forward to where we do not know.   

No Computer? Bad.

In Denver:   temp.  Hot    sky blue  no clouds

Traveling without a computer is harder than I thought.   My fingers now write with the keyboard, without it I have a different stream of thought.  Not worse, just different.

So, I found this computer and decided to log in.  Outside at Jon and Jen’s scratching the soil to plant grass seed.

Ruth and Gabe are, as are all grandchildren, wonderful. Ruth has complete sentences, if you  can follow her language.  I drank it all.  Where my pink sunglasses?  Where my grandma?  She’s also two.  Everything, even the moose, Merton, that I brought for Gabe was immediately hers.

Gabe’s a delight.  I held him right after I got here.  gotta go.  back to the grass

Years of Change

58  bar falls 30.01 0mph SW dew-point 52  Beltane, cloudy and cool

                  Last Quarter of the Hare Moon

RJ Devick has his offices at 169 and 394, a tall building, 20 stories, for the burbs.  It has a glass curtain wall and looks like the generic office building.  We go out to see RJ once a year.  At those  meetings we examine our portfolio and its performance–fine–any changes in our financial situation, all positive.  More money in savings.  Kate’s income stayed up rather than decline as we had imagined when she made the shift to managed care.  Kate is within 2 years of retirement.  2 years.

These are years of change, not so much in the purpose of our lives, as in the external actions related to it.  Kate will stop working at Allina, but will keep her license up and volunteer more.  Her change is my change, of course, as the stay at home spouse.  She will enter the homeworld full time and we will have to adjust to that.  I don’t anticipate any major issues.

I leave tomorrow morning for Denver and since Kate uses the laptop for her work, I will not be posting for the next week.  Look for a trip summary next Thursday or Friday.

Sensuality Awakened in a Hindu Temple

47  bar steep rise 30.04 6mph N dew-point 38  Beltane

            Waning Gibbous Hare Moon

There are frost warnings not 75 miles north of us.  Frost.  On Memorial Day.  OMG.

Kate came home after a busy holiday clinic, today and yesterday were both very busy.  I cooked walleye, pasta with morels I found in our woods with a sauce Kate made earlier and asparagus.  We ate it while watching Passage to India.  This is an old movie, so you probably saw it long before I did, but it’s a stunner visually.  David Lean and Merchant Ivory, goes without saying.  The plot worked well in exposing the basic contradictions in the colonial exploitation of India by the British Raj.  The major plot point, however, an incident in the caves of Marabara still eludes me. 

It seems that Adela, played by Judy Davis, awakened to her sensuality while visiting a Hindu temple in ruins.  It seems further that her on again/off again marriage to the City Magistrate created a level of cognitive dissonance with this awakened sensuality.   It all came to a head when she fled a wonderful day organized by a Muslim doctor.  She made an accusation of attempted rape, or, was manipulated into making one.  Then she recanted.  Puzzling.

Kate’s off to bed.  I plan to finish Lush Life by Richard Price tonight.  A wonderful novel in many ways, though it is so thick in its content that I become weary of it and need a rest.  It is a tour de force of urban conflict, parsed out on the shockwaves of a brutal murder on the lower east side.  If you want to read a genuine American voice on a quintessential American topic, I recommend it.

No writing by me yesterday or today on Superior Wolf.  In a bit of a general funk, the dream surfacing some of it.  Not sure where it’s going, doesn’t seem so oppressive tonight.

Why Did They Get The Boat With Holes?

66  bar falls 30.06  6mph NE dew-point 38  Beltane, cloudy

              Waning Gibbous Hare Moon

The grocery store on Saturday morning of Memorial Day weekend, quiet.  I suppose all those up norther’s have abandoned the first home for the second.  Made for an easy trip through the check out lane.  Though not purchasing much, I thought, I still rang up $155.  Surprised me. 

Some shrimp, a walleye fillet, milk, bread, snacks, some fruit (that $10 bag of cherries maybe not such a wise purchase), butter, turkey for the dogs.  That’s about it.  Combine that with the $42 it took me to fill up the Celica, around 11 gallons, and you can feel the pincers of rising commodity prices clamp down. 

Kate and I can afford it, don’t get me wrong, but I’m thinking about the person who checked me out at Festival, who put the items in the bags, theWalmart employee, the person who works in the convenience store, janitors and other back of the shop employees we rarely see.  Or, the  unemployed.  Or, the person whose income each month comes fixed by an annuity, social security, a meager pension.  Consider a person making 30-40,000 dollars a year.  With two or three kids.  A mortgage and a commute.  Thank you free market capitalism.  Why did they get the boat with holes?

Planted a couple of ferns in the shade garden underneath the river birch, then went over to the second tier, where I began a shade garden 3 years ago.  Gophers have eaten much of the hosta and the daylillies, survivors from my attempt to clear them out back then have overgrown a lot of the rest.  I’ve decided to treat daylilies in this half moon shaped garden as weeds.  I’m moving them to other places, places where their wonderfully dogged lifestyle will help us rather than get in the way.  Any that grow from tubers left behind, though.  Out they  go. 

Spent 45 or minutes or so writing on Superior Wolf, too.  Keeps on coming.

It Will End as a Novel Ends

55  bar steep rise 0mph E dew-point 39  Beltane

           Waxing Gibbous Hare Moon

Kate cleared a bunch of dogwood canes, pulled up weeds, pruned out a juniper (yesterday), deadheaded the daffodils and generally worked herself into a stupor. (In Norwegian, this is a good thing.)  She’s been on vacation this week and has enjoyed herself immensely planting, pruning, carrying.  (Again, in Norwegian, this constitutes a vacation.)  I admire and appreciate her doggedness, but it doesn’t count as a vacation attitude in my Celtic/Germanic perspective.   Whatever turns your crank.

Battlestar Galactica is the most nuanced and unpredictable show on television, bar none.  It is a good science fiction novel brought to the screen and that is so rare as to be a marvel, a marvel that continues week after week.  There no good guys and bad guys, no bad robots and good robots.  No, there are humans and robots who, in some situations, act for the common good and, in other situations, act out of selfish or malicious motives. 

The Science Fiction channel will finish the Battlestar Galactica series this season, but it will not tail off into the land of unfinished television shows. It will end as a novel ends, with an ending that ties together various plotlines and provides a final surprise and aha.  How do I know?  Because that’s how good writing works, and this is good writing.  I would like to see this as a precedent for TV shows where the story has a trajectory, a climax and a denouement, not the eternal extension of the storyline in a cynical attempt to exploit viewer interest for every last drop of advertiser revenue.  Viewers will return if the fiction has characters with complex lives, difficult hurdles to overcome and a convincing fate.

More work outside tomorrow.  This may be the last big push for a while since Kate goes back to work on Tuesday and I have MIA and a docent class luncheon on Monday with Woolly’s in the evening.

Sayonara, Weber Collection

79!  bar steep fall  29.62 5mph WSW dewpoint 35  Beltane, sunny

                       Waxing Gibbous Hare Moon

The final Weber tours.  A Japanese language class from Kennedy HS in Bloomington and a small group of stunned ladies of a certain age.  Neither tour was a flop, neither an engaging and vital time.  The Kennedy group had a few kids that were present the whole way, interest.  One young lady took out a notebook and started writing.  The second seemed timid, afraid to respond to inquiry, interested but reticent. 

At the end a woman told me she’d seen a Bhutan exhibit in Honolulu.  “The objects came with five Buddhist monks.  They came to bless the statues with water each morning.  Since in Buhtan, they received this sprinkling directly, but were in cases like this,”  she indicated the Nara Buddha at the beginning of the show, “they had, oh, I don’t know, a tupperware container,”  she spread her hands out and formed a large sloppy rectangle, “It had water.  Then they had a mirror.  They got the objects reflection in the mirror and sprinkled that.”

Sayonara, Weber collection and bon voyage.

I have a long stretch of days with little planned.  No docent classes, no tours, no preaching, no social engagements.  The right time to garden and to write.

Jon called while I was writing this.  They want to have the bris on June 2nd or 3rd.  Could I come?  I’m there.  I’m excited to see Gabe and Ruth, to see Jon’s garden and Jen with her new brood.

On to the treadmill.  I try not to remember this, but apparently in Victorian jails, prisoner powered treadmills were a form of human as donkey labor.  I’m not sure but that may be where the term comes from in the first place.

Hidden Gardens

60  bar falls 29.93 3mph S dewpoint 33  Beltane sunny and windy

                  First Quarter of the Hare Moon

The new bed for corn has a bag of composted manure mixed into the soil.  Debarked elm trunks went around three sides to bolster rotting logs from the creation of this bed 10 or so years ago.  The only plants remaining are a few stray Siberian Iris.  I like them and I don’t think the corn will mind having them there. 

Kate and I went into the woods and settled on a place to put the playhouse for the grandkids.  It will face the firepit, midden heap park that I’m currently constructing.  I’ll have to clear buckthorn.  A few smaller oaks need to come out anyhow for thinning.  After that we’ll level the site and begin putting the structure together.  We plan to add a small deck and a fence.   I’ll plant a shade garden and native understory shrubs around it to blend it into the woods.  Kate also wants to string lights in the trees, a magical spot.

Black landscape cloth now covers a large arc of ground underneath the three oaks that stand beside the near garden shed.  The idea is to kill off the nettles underneath, which will prepare the way for a hosta, fern, and other shade lovers garden there.  It’s not too visible, but I like the idea of hidden, pocket gardens around the landscape.

All this outdoor work wears me out.  Off to a nap, then perhaps some more work outside.

A Lot of Growing Around Here

52  bar rises 29.78 0mph W dewpoint 34  Beltane

A very beautiful Waxing Crescent of the Hare Moon

More garden work tomorrow.  It feels so good to be back out there.  Kate planted Ireland Creek Annie and Cherokee Trail of Tears and Dragon Tounge beans today.  Also some mixed gourds. 

A cool evening, a warm day.  Perfect.

Tomorrow I’ll dig in three tomato plants.  These are plants I’ve grown from seed.  They’re now about a foot high.  It will be nice to see my babies go into the soil.  I’m keeping one back for my kitchen garden which will have tomatoes, lettuce, basil, cilantro, peppers and egg plant.  The latter three I’ll start from seed sometime soon.  Kate’s gonna pick up some seeds at the Green Barn tomorrow.

Got a nice note from Jon saying they’ve turned Gabe’s lights off and taken him upstairs to his room.  I passed on the e-mails and comment from Tristan’s mom, too.  We’ll gradually weave a web of support around them and the little guy so he can grow up to move on and do what he needs to do in this life.

A lot of growing be done around here right now.