Category Archives: Family

Acting, Colorado, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Hawai'i, Health, Hermitage, Holidays, Jefferson County, Judaism, Mountains, Our Land and Home, Politics, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Shadow Mountain, The Move, The West, Weather +Climate

Well…

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Samain and the Decision Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: No red wave. Judy’s courage. Tal. A fine director. Astrov, a wonderful character. Memorization. Rebecca. Georgeta. Nittya. Hamish. Emily. How do I feel? Relieved. Chekhov. Kate’s courage. Always Kate. Jon, a memory. Ruth and Gabe. Cold weather coming. A property manager. Vince. (have him handle appliances, too?) Hawai’i. Such a fine place to be. CBE, home turf. Shadow Mountain, home. Kep, dogged. Dan, who brought me home grown marijuana and honey from his own hives yesterday. Past president of the congregation.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Democracy’s faint pulse

 

First. My friend Judy died yesterday. If she followed the path she had explained to me, she took the medication with a trusted friend by her side reading the Psalms. Her shiva minyan is tomorrow night. I’ll be there. Kate, too, chose her own death. This kind of courage needs celebration. It says we can choose to leave life with honesty, with compassion for ourselves and for those we love. It will never be an easy choice which insures its integrity. Judy leaves behind a collection of recipes for the foods she often brought to our meetings. I’ll make at least one this next week in her memory. May her memory be for a blessing.

 

Second. No red wave. Odd, isn’t it, it just occurred to me. Who’s the red menace now? Dr. Oz will have to go back to celebrity medicine. Sad Stacey Abrams lost. I’ve not done a deep look at the results but when a Fox news commentator and Washington Post columnist says: “…the Republican Party has some major soul-searching to do following the 2022 midterm elections,” (Marc Thiessen reported in The Hill.) I’m encouraged.

Gulled by Republican propaganda and Democratic whining to expect the worst, I opened the news this morning to find a horse race. Yeah, horses. Still could tip to Repub control I know. Yet. The fact that there’s a struggle suggests the Extremes and the Trumplicans have not prevailed. Our democracy may not end up in the political intensive care ward. At least not yet.

 

Third. Acting class last night. A lot of memorization ahead of me. A lot. I’m going to devote hours each day until Thanksgiving. I can and will do it. The experienced actors are already off-book for their monologues. I could have been but I vacationed instead. Back to the books now. Literally.

 

Fourth. The decision. Yes, I said I’d make it after the trip. That’s now. I’m leaving a small crack in the door but here are a few new reasons for remaining in place. I put in the mini-splits and remodeled the kitchen. I moved furniture and rehung art. This is my place now. And I worked hard to get it here.

Do what brings you joy, RJ said. Funny how I’d missed that part of the equation in my logical and careful delineation of this and that. It brings me joy to go to acting class. It brings me joy to cook in my kitchen. It brings me joy to live in the Rocky Mountains, in spite of or because of the challenges. It brings me joy to see Hawai’i as the place I choose to live next. It brings me joy to exercise in my own small gym. It brings me joy to host Thanksgiving for my shrinking family here in Colorado. It brings me joy to light up Herme and think of the Hermitage. It even brings me joy to be so much a part of Judy’s life that her shiva minyan is important to me. So. Oh? See where I’m going with this?

To that end I’ve contacted Vince. He’s coming by today. I may even have him take charge of all the stuff, including my appliances. If I have a need, he would contact the appropriate person and oversee their work. Maybe. Not sure about that. He will handle all the outside work. He’s excited about that and the handyman type work on the inside, too. This property is too much for me to handle. Alone. Might pay him a retainer against which he would bill his services. Then, I can let go of that stuff.

When someone asked what did I want in a new place, I’d often say oh five years or so peace and calm. No drama. Knowing that wasn’t possible but really wanting some stability without headaches associated with home ownership. Yesterday I thought. Wait a minute. I’m upsetting a chance for peace and calm right here by going through this extended home selling, relocating process. Which will then entail a whole new period of upset and chaos. By definition. I can achieve what I really want most easily by continuing the work I’ve already begun here.

By peace and calm I don’t mean stasis. The opposite in fact. I want to get back to writing every day. I want my daily life to flow, as I know it can. I want to see how my life unfolds, not keep putting new barriers in front of that unfolding.

What’s the crack in the door? Health. I’ve got a pulmonology referral. When I meet with them, I’m going to investigate any lung related reasons I should move now. Or, sometime soon. If they exist, and I don’t think they do, I’ll recalibrate.

Still gonna prune and paint.

 

 

 

Colorado, Denver, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Hawai'i, Health, Hermitage, Jefferson County, Judaism, Memories, Minnesota, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, The Move, The West, Travel

Jerseys. Drug Holidays. Golden.

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Fall and the Simchat Torah Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Memories. Friability. Dreams. The same. Mini-splits. Warm when and where I want it. Cool, too. That back I never had mowed. Beautiful and dangerous if a Fire came through. Sigh. New options for the move. An obvious one, missed until now. Diane. Robin. Tal. His turn at the Creativity Class. Acting class tonight. Chekhov. The Seagull. Uncle Vanya. Ivanov. Will read the Cherry Orchard today. Growing. Right here in Colorado. Change. Stability. One inevitable, the other pleasant while it lasts.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Lead time yields multiple options

 

Whether a correction is in order or not about yesterday’s post, let me be clear: my cousin Diane prefers Jerseys. Always has. Always will. In fact she wore a t-shirt while here that read: Zike Jerseys. Morristown. Higher butterfat than those run of the mill Holsteins. At first she thought my memory might have been wrong, but then she remembered Uncle Riley often bought Holstein bull calves to feed out and sell for slaughter. Could have been some of them. Or, my memory could be faulty.

Still eating through the collection of See’s chocolates Diane brought. A real treat. Ramping up my yogurt and fruit game, too. Told you she was a good influence. Bean and cheese burrito plus yogurt and raspberries for breakfast.

 

Televisit with Kristie. So. Once a month urology oncologists, radiologists, and other specialists and their physicians assistants have a round table dicussion. Each one who wants gets up to two cases to present, then the gathered group provides advice and thoughts. Since Dr. Eigner. my oncologist, and Dr. Simpson, radiation oncologist, differ on their view of the bony sclerosis on my thoracic spine, Kristie will present next Wednesday.

A presentation consists of an overview of treatment from diagnosis through procedures and lab work up to the present day. In my case it will span the time from May 2015 to October 2022. The particular issue in my instance is whether I have metastases causing the swelling on my spine. Dr. Simpson wants to radiate it; Dr. Eigner wants to ignore it.

The most likely result of the conference will be some earlier scans and if felt necessary an MRI to determine the exact nature of those sclerosis. This is good for me because my case is getting reviewed by many docs. Sorta like a fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth opinion.

Kristie gave me some other news, too. If my numbers continue the same PSA undetectable and testosterone low for the next 10 months, I’ll go on a drug holiday. Not sure how long. The reason? These drugs lose their effectiveness over time and a holiday from them reserves some of their capacity so I can still use them. I forgot to ask what the cancer does during the holiday. Lives it up I suppose.

Kristie is a caring doc. I like her and she likes me, a good deal for both of us. We discussed the fatigue I have in the early afternoon. She suggested I check myself while in Hawai’i. If I don’t have it there, it could be psychosomatic. Which was one of my thoughts, too. Good idea.

 

Seeing Kristie brought to the fore a third option for the move, one I’d neglected to consider. Move down the hill. I’ve neglected it because I thought of it as moving to Denver, a place I don’t want to live. But I’ve begun looking seriously into Golden. Once I get to down to 5 600-5 800 feet my O2 sats return to normal.

I’d thought about moving to a college town if Hawai’i didn’t work out, then Minnesota got on my list. Golden has the Colorado School of Mines. That means cultural opportunities. It’s also closer to Boulder with its cultural opportunities and restaurants. Also, it’s right at the base of the Foothills and abuts Interstate 70, a quick shot up to Evergreen and CBE.

Seeing Kristie brought this to mind. I really appreciate her attention to my situation and I wouldn’t have to change oncologists. Medical care in Hawai’i and Minnesota is excellent, so I don’t imagine there would be any degradation of care, but I know Kristie and Dr. Eigner. Eigner since May of 2015. And Kate thought him a good doc.

Not to mention that it would save some money on the move. Quite a bit probably. And retain that link to Gabe and Ruth. All three have strong arguments. Now we’ll see where the different factors begin to move my  heart as we get closer to a pruned house and and a sold house.

Oh. And one more thing. Over the last year especially I’ve found my personal growth accelerating with CBE and mussar, with the Kabbalah Experience classes, and with my CBE friends. A move to Golden would preserve those. Not an insignificant consideration.

 

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Memories

Morristown

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Fall and the Sukkot Moon

Monday gratefuls: Diane home safe. Kep nudging me at 4 am. Frost. Ideas spinning. Downstairs to write. For Kep. Agency. Feeling strong in the move. Robin coming Wednesday. Fatigue. Long Covid? Mary. Kobe. On the waterfront, Osaka Bay. Mark, working for Amazon in Oklahoma City. Kristie. Urology Associates. Laughing with the Ancient Brothers. Creativity, creating. Acting. Growing here in Colorado. Me. Ruth.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: See’s Candy

 

Mostly deaf, mostly blind, still a sweet boy. Kep. Kep has adjusted to his disabilities, continuing his life as dogs do. My teacher. He sleeps more, sometimes going to bed as early as 5 pm. Eating well. Enjoying his day in a more subdued manner. Life at the short end.

 

Diane is my first cousin, the daughter of my mother’s brother, Riley Keaton. She grew up in Morristown, Indiana as did my mother and her four siblings: Riley, Roberta, Barbara, and Marjorie. After Mom and Dad moved  to Indiana from Oklahoma when I was about a year and a half old, the Keaton extended family was always nearby. Marjorie in Muncie. Roberta in Arlington. Riley on the family farm in Morristown. Barbara sometimes in the state hospital sometimes not.

Grandpa and Grandma Keaton, Charlie (my namesake) and Mabel, lived in town in Morristown. Since the Keaton family grew up in Morristown, Morristown has always held a special place for all of us.

Morristown had about six hundred to seven hundred souls during my childhood and adolescence. An American small town to Alexandria’s small city status at 5,000 according to Indiana municipal designations.

It also had and has a famous restaurant, the Kopper Kettle, where my Aunt Mame made fried chicken for tourists who would drive to quaint Morristown for dinner, often from Indianapolis. Locals however ate at the Bluebird with an excellent Sunday buffet, sugar cream pie, and a spot for old guys to drink coffee and solve world political issues.

The Kopper Kettle is on Highway 52 which runs straight into Indianapolis. If you go a bit past it and find Morristown Road, you’ll go past the big house that Charlie and Mable lived in before his death. Further on Morristown Road quickly takes you into the country side where corn and soybeans dominate the landscape.

Hanover cemetery appears at the point where Morristown Road veers off toward the County Seat, Shelbyville, and a gravel road veers off in a wide V toward the family farm where my cousin Richard and his wife still live.

Many of my Keaton relatives found their final rest in Hanover cemetery, which Uncle Riley cared for and now Richard after him.

I spent many days and nights in Morristown while growing up, staying with Grandpa and Grandma, weeks at the farm. I loved the the small shed where the metal milk pails sat in a concrete water pool, cooled by an artesian spring until the milk man came to collect them.

I remember one time the Holsteins had come up from a field and begun heading out toward the road. I was there and Uncle Riley yelled at me, “Stop them!” I got scared at the big animals plodding toward me and got out of the way. Apparently all I would have needed to do was raise my arms and shout something at them. Uncle Riley was not happy with me.

Not long after we moved to Alexandria he had inscribed on wet cement Charlie polio, 1949. I think it was in a foundation for a corn crib. He was a sentimental guy who cried easily as I do still.

Not sure I’m getting this right. I want you to know the sweet memories, the lavender scented times, almost Victorian era life I experienced in this small town. One I prefer to my own hometown of Alexandria.

This will probably do it better than I’m able to this morning.

When the Frost is on the Punkin

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock,
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin’ turkey-cock,
And the clackin’ of the guineys, and the cluckin’ of the hens,
And the rooster’s hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;
O, it’s then’s the times a feller is a-feelin’ at his best,
With the risin’ sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.
They’s something kindo’ harty-like about the atmusfere
When the heat of summer’s over and the coolin’ fall is here—
Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossums on the trees,
And the mumble of the hummin’-birds and buzzin’ of the bees;
But the air’s so appetizin’; and the landscape through the haze
Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days
Is a pictur’ that no painter has the colorin’ to mock—
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.
The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,
And the raspin’ of the tangled leaves, as golden as the morn;
The stubble in the furries—kindo’ lonesome-like, but still
A-preachin’ sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill;
The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed;
The hosses in theyr stalls below—the clover over-head!—
O, it sets my hart a-clickin’ like the tickin’ of a clock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock!
Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps
Is poured around the celler-floor in red and yeller heaps;
And your cider-makin’ ’s over, and your wimmern-folks is through
With their mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and saussage, too! …
I don’t know how to tell it—but ef sich a thing could be
As the Angels wantin’ boardin’, and they’d call around on me—
I’d want to ’commodate ’em—all the whole-indurin’ flock—
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock!

 

 

 

 

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Mussar, Plants, Shadow Mountain, The Move

A good influence

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Fall and the Sukkot Moon (the Jewish Harvest Moon)

Thursday gratefuls: Diane. Cleaning out the truly hard part. Her doggedness. She says OCD, I say perseverance. The Yahrzeit plaques, Kate in the middle and reserved ones for myself and Jon above and below her. Hugs at CBE. Bread Lounge breakfast with the cuz. Sourdough bread. Marilyn. The discussion on humility last night. Jackie. Luke. Ellen. Jamie Bernstein. Leslie.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Having Diane here

 

Over to Evergreen early, but not before Diane had taken a 45 minute jog around the neighborhood. She came upon a Mule Deer Buck standing so still and so close to her at one point that she asked, “Are you alive?” His ears twitched, his head moved, then he went on about his day. Mountain spirits. Ready to welcome us or turn us away.

The Evergreen Medical Center had closed for the day so we went on over to the Bread Lounge. We both had Chinook Toast. The servers and the cashier are so friendly. A lot fewer people than on the weekend or Friday when Alan and I usually go.

Tried to go to the Evergreen Market for easy meals, but it didn’t open until 11. Back home I looked at my calendar and, Oh, $%#&! I had a hair appointment at 11:15. Had to reschedule for 12:15. Always good to see Jackie and her colleague.

When I got back Diane was hands deep in mouse turds, had all the items from under the sink and on the lazy susan neatly organized on paper towel sections along the wall. It was after one and I needed my nap.

When I got up, she was still at it! She’d had lunch she said. A nut bar and an apple. Diane has a minimalist approach to eating that I admire. She’s taken most of the choice points out of daily meals by having regular breakfasts and lunches, veggies of some kind, like a salad or something else, plus some protein for supper. She’s a good influence on me.

I had blueberries and raspberries and yogurt for lunch. Tasted good. By then, however, I had to go to Safeway to pick up some food for the MVP mussar group.

In the end I’d had breakfast, had my haircut, napped, and gone to Safeway, only to leave a bit later for MVP. Diane did all the work.

Today we work in the loft.

 

The power of the lit up Aspens captured Diane. As they do me. And, probably everybody that’s up here during our monochrome Fall. If you’ve watched the Lord of the  Rings movies or the Rings of Power, they look like the trees around the Elven castles. Magical and amazing. Flaming Trees that do not burn. Moses and that bush have nothing on a golden Aspen Grove with the sun behind it.

 

The MVP mussar group discussed humility. We didn’t get to Jacob and the Angel, but we hit all the other passages on the reading list. The conversation was strong, thoughtful, heart felt, honest.

We affirmed an understanding of humility that challenges the meek and mild posture often associated with it. No. Humility is knowing who you are and bringing that person, with all his/her/them talents and gifts to every encounter. Not hiding your light under a bushel, neither letting it blaze out like a movie premier spotlight. Authenticity, each and every encounter, including those with your inner self.

My practice this month will be elemental again. I did water as my practice for the middot of cleanliness last month. This month being down to earth is my practice. This practice honors the link among the words humus, humility, and humanity. It also honors the metaphor of each us created from the same elements, from the dust of the soil, with the breath of life breathed into us through the wonder of birth and evolution. I will remember from whence I came and to which I return. In each encounter.

 

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, General, Hawai'i, Hermitage, Mussar, Shadow Mountain, Torah

Where am I going?

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Fall and the Sukkot Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Diane. Coming to help me prune. Jogging. Sleep. Acting. Chekhov. The Seagulls. Cool. Shirley Septic and Waste. Kep. Poor guy. Bumping into stuff. Ukraine. Putin. Missiles. Will. Minnesota. Hawai’i. ? Lab draws this morning. Flu shot.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Hawai’i

 

Picked Diane up at the Federal Center Station of the RTD yesterday afternoon. Drove back to the Natural Grocers where we picked up supplies. Apples. Aloe Vera juice. Organic fish sticks. Mixed vegetables. Raspberries. Blueberries. Bananas. Tomatoes. Lettuce. Headed back home.

At the Natural Grocers we got into a conversation with the cashier. Where’re you from? San Francisco. Here. Oh, I’m from Hawai’i. Oh, I’m moving to Hawai’i. What Island? Oahu. Oh, I’m from Oahu. The North Shore, where all the surfing is. Yes, I’m going to that side, too. Oh, Kailua, Kane’ Ohe’? Yes.

Diane picked up on my answer and asked about it, given my recent blogs. Oh, just trying to bond with the cashier, I said.

More I thought about it though I realized Hawai’i is still top of mind when I think about moving. And, I’ve been telling people I’m moving to Hawai’i for quite awhile now. An interesting, unbidden piece of information about the move.

Not sure what it means. If anything. But there you are.

 

Mussar tonight. My turn to lead. Anavah. Humility. A key idea in mussar is taking up the right amount of space. That’s the idea of humility. Neither self-deprecating nor self-aggrandizing, being who you are.

Here’s a Rabbi’s take on anavah.*

 

How do you experience anavah in your own life? Do you ever take up too much space? Too little? If so, why? How can you create a you that takes up the space you deserve?

One of my favorite stories from the Torah. Jacob and the Angel at the Jabbok Ford.** I see it as an example of anavah. Jacob wrestled with God/the Angel/a man to determine the right amount of space between him and the sacred.

One interpretation is this. Jacob was on a journey, fleeing his brother Esau. He had divided his livestock and servants in two, reasoning that he might escape with half his wealth if his servants encountered Esau. God had come to him in a dream and told him to go to the land of his fathers and God would be with him.

As they crossed the ford of the Jabbok River, Jacob stayed behind. While he was alone, a man came and wrestled with him. Jacob was alone as a result of his struggles with his father-in-law Laban and his brother, Esau.

Jacob had experienced rejection by his father-in-law and his own brother. He had fled them. Who was he now? Was he a man who fought with his closest relatives, made them angry, divided his family? Or, was he a man of the sacred, following a path that was his pilgrimage?

That night beside the river at a ford, places known for their magical qualities, Jacob had to decide who he was. He struggled within himself, trying to decide whether he was a bad brother and a bad son-in-law or was he a good man who had done what was necessary?

In that struggle he learned that he was neither. Or both. When the inner jihad was over, he had a new self-awareness. he was now Israel, for he had experienced the sacred within himself and survived to gain a clear identity, an authentic Self.

 

*Just as the Torah begins with Parashat B’reishit, Mussar practice begins with the middah of anavah. All other middot are accessed through this core character trait. The middah of anavah is essential for living with integrity. When we think of humility, we may imagine someone who is the picture of modesty and meekness. However, in Mussar, humility is not defined as being so humble that you disappear; rather, it is about having all of your character traits in balance so that the inner light of the soul shines pure and clear as originally intended. As Mussar teacher Alan Morinis puts it, “Being humble doesn’t mean being nobody: it just means being no more of a somebody than you ought to be.”
…In our own lives, we hide our authentic selves from the truth of our lives. When we live out of balance, despite the fact that we may be falling apart on the inside or on the outside, we betray our lives. We take up either too much or too little space; either we take away space from others, or we abandon them when they need us. Our sacred connection to anything important—our families, our communities, our work—all suffer when we neglect to live life with anavah in balance. Celebrated with intention, Shabbat provides the time, space, and opportunity to reconnect to our core essence, reacquire a sense of proportion, and connect anew with the people and projects in our lives with both humility and presence. Anavah, approaching our lives with humility, means not taking up too much space in the Garden, not trying to fool others with some disguise of our true selves; but to honestly offer our truest selves to the people and work we encounter in our lives. Humility: Shabbat as a Return to Our Authentic Selves” by Rabbi Michelle Pearlman and Rabbi Sharon Mars in Mussar Torah Commentary, p.3, 6

 

**22 The same night he arose and took his two wives, his two maids, and his eleven children, and crossed the ford of the Jabbok.23 He took them and sent them across the stream, and likewise everything that he had.24 And Jacob was left alone; and a man wrestled with him until the breaking of the day.25 When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he touched the hollow of his thigh; and Jacob’s thigh was put out of joint as he wrestled with him.26 Then he said, “Let me go, for the day is breaking.” But Jacob said, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.”27 And he said to him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Jacob.”28 Then he said, “Your name shall no more be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with men, and have prevailed.”29 Then Jacob asked him, “Tell me, I pray, your name.” But he said, “Why is it that you ask my name?” And there he blessed him.30 So Jacob called the name of the place Peni’el, saying, “For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved.”31 The sun rose upon him as he passed Penu’el, limping because of his thigh.32 Therefore to this day the Israelites do not eat the sinew of the hip which is upon the hollow of the thigh, because he touched the hollow of Jacob’s thigh on the sinew of the hip.

 

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase

A Good Day

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Lughnasa and the Harvest Moon

Monday gratefuls: Jon. His service here. So sweet. Just right. Ruth and I ok. Gabe his usual wry self. Sarah’s remarkable diplomacy. Seoah’s amazing crab boil. Just like the Korean Cajun place in Honolulu. Ram Dass, “We’re all just walking each other home.”

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Family

 

I have an emendation to J.O.E. It is now J2OE. That is Johnson.Jang.Olson.Ellis. Left out the Korean side of our odd little clan. My mistake.

 

Yesterday was something we all needed. A good day. Heartfelt. Bonding. Rabbi Jamie came and helped us navigate the many who wanted to share stories of Jon. Ruth wore clothes she and Seoah bought on Saturday. Gabe slumped on the couch near Jamie. Max, Jon’s long and good friend, was here from Minneapolis and spoke a touching remembrance of their friendship.

After the service Seoah did a crab boil with a Dungeness crab I had from the Sitka Salmon Shares folks. We ate in the reconfigured dining room where Kate had her sewing room. It was a wonderful funeral meal with a lot of laughing.

Anguish is such an amazing teacher. It forces us  into spaces we might otherwise find inaccessible. Like seeing a person’s amazing side. Jon was Magical. Gentle. Kind. A Creative. Ruth’s person. Gabe’s rock. And how he and his mom opened us all to the new family born in the fire of their pyres.

We’re now in the more practical days. When can we move onto the house, Ivory (the Rav4 gifted to Ruth)? Creating the estate for the kids. Probably slower and less fraught. I sure hope so anyhow.

I continue to experience fatigue. That is, I sleep, but am not rested. I’ll say again. I could not have handled this without J2.O.E. I would have ended up in some dark cave, huddled up and sad.

The Traveling Willbury’s below is their response to their bandmate Roy Orbison’s death.

 

Coronavirus, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Hawai'i, Health, Hermitage, Shadow Mountain, The Move

Live Until I Die

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Lughnasa and the Harvest Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Net sheets. Robert Martin. Realtors. Hawai’i dreaming. Running the numbers. Growing up. Kep. Kate, always Kate. Selling. Mussar. Mussar Thursday group. Mussar MVP. Clarity. Sudden. Following the path as it opens before me. Taking my cues from friends and experts. And, of course, my own heart. Problems. Solutions. An Ancientrail for sure.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Friends

 

Oh. My. Ran my own cash flow analysis this morning. I think that’s what it was anyhow. Gave me inner peace. Not kidding. I’ll have this much to spend by this date. This much by this date. Use the money as it comes, then goes. Pay attention. Don’t fall behind.

So glad I contacted Ruth Hayden. I asked her to remind me of things I already know. She did just that. After some hesitation I did a solid run on my expenses as they recur on a monthly and annual basis. Got solid numbers. Income is easy. Outgo is more chaotic, harder to systematize.

These three months: July, August, and September were filled with expenses. A trip to Hawai’i. A new hot water heater. My premium for my Long Term Care insurance. Plus what would have broken the bank, that trip to Durango, if my buddy Tom hadn’t stepped in to help.

I saw it all coming. That was the good part. But how to untangle it, find the right tools to manage it, and insure it doesn’t happen again? That was the hard part. Pretty sure I got it. Not so hard, but numbers and dates have to be paid attention to. Having the money available after a big bill comes due doesn’t cut it. It has to be available on time.

Figured my own process that I believe will work. Up till now I counted on money being there. At the right time. Oops. Like for example when a six week old check hit my account and put me into overdraft territory. Or, when I looked out to September and couldn’t find enough cash available to pay that insurance premium. Not good.

Decided to take it as motivation to finally wrassle this gator to the ground.

Realized just now that all this falls under a more generic habit I’ve worked at hard at folding into my life. Stop anxiety producing things before they start. Gonna die? Yes. OK. Deal with it, recognize it. Own it. Gonna move to Hawai’i? Do the tasks necessary to make it there. Need to eat? Shop. Or, go to a restaurant. Need reassurance or input? Go to friends and family. Have prostate cancer? Stay on top of it, but let it be. Those sort of things.

 

Robert Martin’s numbers and Alice Carmody’s are almost the same. Still waiting on Linda. Her SO died two weeks ago and the funeral was Wednesday. Giving her extra time. The numbers from Robert and Alice, using comps in a low part of the real estate market, put me with a solid net between $500,000 and $600,000. That’s what I need and the February market should improve those numbers a bit.

Based all of this on the Zillow estimate, but didn’t know till the end of this work week whether it was accurate. It was. Sort of a shoot, fire, aim situation. I sought the information on the hope it was out there. It was.

Lots of balls still to juggle, but I’m having fun with this so far. I’d have had a lot more fun if it wasn’t for that damned Covid. My 02 sats have begun to fall a bit, too. No good, but I’m not worried. O2 concentrators here. Sea level in March.

Yes, there’s the possibility of bony mets in my spine. Yes, there’s the possibility of some respiratory hooha, but I’ll manage them if and when they come. Do what’s necessary.

 

Live until I die. That’s my prime objective.

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Hawai'i, Health, Our Land and Home, Shadow Mountain, The Move

This Medical and that Real Estate

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Imbolc and the Durango Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Timothy O’Leary, M.D. Kristie Kokeny, P.A. Linda Michaelsen, Realtor. Rain. Heavy Hail. Still Raining this morning. Zapping precancerous spots with liquid nitrogen. Discussing scan results. A sudden weariness around noon. Bad sleep. Achy legs. Heat as in hot, hot flash. Making the move more real. Possibilities. So many.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Getting things done, moving forward.

 

Dermatologist. Belly button probably psoriasis, my old nemesis. Quiet for eight years here. A couple of precancerous spots on my scalp. May have been when your hair started thinning. You didn’t know to protect it so much. Also a couple of dark, symmetrical spots that will bear watching. A nice guy, Timothy O’Leary. Compassionate. Appreciated.

 

Linda Michaelsen, the realtor who lives one minute away, came yesterday to look at the house, tell me what it needs. Not much. Some paint. Maybe a new two sink granite top in the upstairs bathroom. She says it will show well. The loft really got her going. Could be a rental unit, as could be the downstairs where I sleep. Lots of storage, room.

When I asked the big question, she said I’d be between eight and nine hundred thousand. She didn’t think I’d have any trouble realizing $500,000 after the sale and paying off my mortgage. We’ll see what Robert Martin, Compass Real Estate, and Alice Carmody of Tupper’s Team have to say, but I felt some relief after hearing that.

Talk with RJ this morning. Check out the impact of the capital gains exemption within two years of Kate’s death and after two years. $500,000 anytime before April 12. $250,000 after.

After this conversation the route forward will become clearer. Linda said the easiest way to clear out the house is to have an estate sale. Pondering that. Not sure exactly what that would entail, how to prepare, but it sounds promising.

Cousin Diane, bless her heart, offered to come out and help me get through the sorting process. She’ll be here October 11-16.

 

Kristie essentially drew the same conclusions I did after reading my scans. My lymph nodes are no longer swollen. Good news. Means the Erleada is working. Prostate cancer cells, after they escape the prostate, learn how to produce their own testosterone. Geez, guys. Earleada works by blocking the testosterone receptors on the cancer cells.

I will be talking today with Dr. Simpson, the radiation oncologist, who will further review my scans with me and talk about the hyperbaric chamber for healing my proctitis.

So. Much. Fun.

 

Felt off last night. Sudden heat flashes had me reaching for the Covid 19 test. Then the hot flashes receded. Short of breath. Feeling crummy. Continued into the night.

Sleep was episodic. Restless. Felt sorta sick, sorta not. This morning I feel pretty good, just sleepy.

 

 

Family, Friends, Health, Politics, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate, Woolly Mammoths

Elder on the Bench

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Imbolc and the Durango Moon

Monday gratefuls: Early workout. Kep. Realtors. Diane. Tom. Paul. Richard Powers. Dermatology. Clouds in the Sky. Rain yesterday. Hail, too. Looked like Snow. 64 on Shadow Mountain, 92 in Denver. Jon, Ruth, Gabe at the fish and chips place. Ruth has her own money now. Her job. Jon’s waiting for a disability severeness determination. Gabe starts high school today.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Medicine

 

Ancient Brothers yesterday. Elder on a bench. My topic. A young man on the bench asked us to give him some thoughts on how to flourish in life. Each of us was to give 3 things that lead to flourishing for us.

It was a fascinating hour. You are enough. Always. Let no one take that from you. Be clear about your work life, lean into it. Floss. Which meant take care of your body as well as your mind. Love the one you’re with. Love all the time, all you can. Take from everywhere, don’t look for wisdom only in the walled gardens of religion or political ideology or received ideas from family. Get a hobby, develop mastery. Seek and keep a few very good friends. Maintain presence in a community. And much more. Wish I’d videoed it. A good Youtube piece.

These guys Mark, Paul, Bill, Tom were there for me through the agony of Kate’s last days and death. With such grace and love. We’ve been there as others have gone through surgery, covid, joys like the birth of Max and Moira’s entry into Texas politics. We know each other at an intimate level. Rare for a group of men our age. Or, any age. I cherish and love each one of them.

 

At noon I drove into the furnace that is now Denver. A fish and chips place on Broadway. Ruth and Gabe’s favorite place. I hadn’t seen them in a month or so. Ruth’s shift at Rocketflash started at two so they couldn’t come up.

Gabe did not seem enthused about his first day as a freshman in high school. Ruth was every bit the upper classman. Only talk to me if you have normal people with you.

Jon’s waiting for PERA to define his degree of disability. This will determine what work he can do and probably the level of his monthly payments.

We had a good time together. I gave them the photographs I bought for them in Hawai’i. Chatted outside, on a bench, eating fish and chips. A good meal.

When I drove back up to Shadow Mountain, a thunderstorm with hail cooled the temps way down. Another 28 degree temperature spread. So glad.

 

How bout those classified files, eh? I’m the president and I can do what I want when I want to whatever I want. There is a dogged consistency in Trump’s venality. It lacks vision and strategy while depending on taking today’s problem and creating a tornado where there could have been a waterspout. It’s an odd play, but one he uses so often.

What will happen? Who the hell knows. Trump’s post presidency reminds me of a Shriner convention with all those little cars filled with clowns tooting their horns and throwing confetti.

 

 

 

Asia, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Hawai'i, Health, Shadow Mountain

Atta Van

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Imbolc and the Durango Moon

Thursday gratefuls: CT and Bone Scan. Nuclear medicine. Kep. Susan Taylor. Tom. Durango. William. Paul. Ode. Quest labs. Blue Colorado Sky. Hawai’i. University of Hawai’i. Maona neighborhood. This silly real estate market. The January 6th committee. Real government. Earth spin. Sun seen. Sun gone. Back on Shadow Mountain.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Friends and Family

 

Yesterday. Showed up at 8:30 am. Littleton Adventist. Jon as my driver, 2 ativans in a pill container. A curly headed guy in blue came to “nab me” and took me to the nuclear medicine lab.

In the lab, which contained the control room and the gamma camera in the dark, he had a small table set-up with needles and a blue plastic cylinder with a twist off cap. Is that lead lined? Yes.

His iv insertion was painless. Not the norm at all but appreciated. A little saline. Then he opened the blue cylinder and took out a syringe with a thimble full of clear liquid. That liquid went into the IV. More saline.

I’ll have you back in 3 hours. Let me call CT. They can come get you now. I need to take my ativan. Which I did.

About thirty minutes later Kristina came out in her blues and got me from the waiting room. I emptied my pockets, took off my light jacket, put my hat and fitbit on the table and hopped up on the sliding platform. Shoes on. Better than TSA.

You’ve done this before? CT with contrast? I have. You remember it makes you feel warm? I do. It also makes you feel like you peed your pants. Disconcerting. I’ll tell you when you’re going to feel warm. OK.

The sliding platform began to move. The CT scanner itself had two faces built in to a spot just at eye level, one calm with mouth open, the other with cheeks full and mouth closed. Take a deep breath, hold it. Cheeky face lights up. Breath. Calm face lights up. As the ativan began to kick in, this became more and more amusing.

There. We’re done. Wow. Took about a minute.

I’d been fasting so Kristina, who could see the ativan had done its work, offered to take me to the cafeteria. We walked along together through the corridors of Little Adventist. I could tell she was amused.

I gave her a big smile when she left to go back to her machine.

After a lengthy breakfast on the patio overlooking the Front Range, even medicine comes with a view in Colorado, I returned to the waiting room and played Wordle and the Spelling Bee. Took my second ativan.

Curly headed guy came back at 11:45. The gamma ray camera was now in a lit room. I emptied my pockets again.

The gamma ray camera comes within inches of your face. And stays there for awhile. Even with the ativan and closing my eyes I could feel it, pressing. No escape. Had to do soothing breathing. I had made a mistake that made it worse. The guy asked if I wanted a blanket and I said yes. It was heated. Heat makes my claustrophobia get worse. Ooops.

Still. With the happy pills, closed eyes, and calming breathing techniques I managed to not lose it. This one takes 15-20 minutes.

Relieved to be outta there. I can feel my relief as I write this.

Jon drove me home. I think. Anyhow I ended up back home, happy and tired. Took a nap.

The results were posted almost immediately on the Centura Health patient portal. I didn’t read them until later yesterday. As Kate said, the radiologists favorite plant is the hedge. I couldn’t tell much by reading them. Why we have doctors.

I don’t think there’s anything new there. Which is the best news. Not certain. Because of that hedge. I’ll talk to Kristie on August 15th and get more information after she and Eigner have reviewed the reports.