Category Archives: Family

Family, Fourth Phase, Health, Judaism, Our Land and Home, Politics, Shadow Mountain, Tarot

Oh, Todd.

December 9, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the waxing crescent of the Winter Solstice Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Tom’s visit. Bowe and his helper. Almost done with this first round of work. Rigel and Kep, my all night heaters. Who needs an electric blanket? The mini-splits. Fire danger. Lodgepole Pines. Rock outcroppings. Hwy. 78, our only route in or out. Rabbi Jamie. His mother-in-law, Toni Haas. Who died. With whom he was living.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Hand/Craft work. Skilled labor.

Tarot: King of Stones, ww

Remodeling has its moments. One came yesterday when Bowe said, hey, look at this! What? See these? He showed me one of three electrical wires with exposed wire. Yes? These were behind your wall. And, alive! He showed me his knife blade where the arc of one of the wires took out a chip of metal.

Oh, Todd. We’re sorry we ever knew ya. Todd was a retired fireman. His name is forever held in infamy in our house. However his assignment has now descended to the lowest pit of contractor hell. May he stay there with exposed wires, leaky pipes, and poorly hung cabinets.

Bowe’s helper, who lives in Colorado Springs, quite a hike from here, is big. Tall and with a beery gut obtained over a lifetime of commitment to the brew. And, about my age. He moved a cabinet and I found him propped up on it, breathing heavily. I’ve had two (pneumo thorax) and they’ve reduced my lung capacity. Oh. Well, you’re also at 8,800 feet.

Bowe himself is a cheerful, short guy. Shorter than me, even at my diminished height of 5′ 6″. Bouncy energy. If he can get the faucet, he’s going to hook my sink backup for use during the fabrication time for the quartzite. He says about two weeks. I thought three. I’m going with his estimate.

Cousin Diane said yesterday that I could just plug my microwave in and use it. I said, nah. They cut the chord at the end. Tom suggested I have somebody help get it back on the counter since it plugged in. I looked closer. What I thought was a cut wire was in fact cut tubing from the water purifier. Oh. Well, Diane and Tom. Thanks. Gonna have the fabricator, who comes tomorrow, help me horse back onto the cabinets. Then I can have chicken pot pies. Burritos. Warmed up leftovers. Yes.

Tom brought me two bags of Battle River Wild Rice. A Minnesota gourmet treat. Thanks again, Tom. We had supper last night at Three Margaritas, the closest restaurant to the house. I haven’t been in there in a year and a half plus. Covid plus Kate’s increasingly sensitive palate.

With our proximity to Texas and New Mexico Colorado has many Latino residents, so the Mexican food here, including Tex-Mex, is pretty good. Lots of food trucks in the city serve it, too. Especially in Aurora and on Denver’s West side.

Sent a note to my urologist about the $1,800 bill from Myriad Genetics. Sussing out whether I have any genetic leanings toward prostate cancer. If I do, as I move forward, they may be able to treat me with medication designed for the genetic markers of my particular cancer. Good idea. But the $1,800 qualified as a big surprise! Doc’s nurse has set me up with folks who might lower my bill. Maybe way down. Hope so.

If I was paying full freight on my Orgovyx, $836 a month copay, my prostate cancer care would now be upwards of $10,000 plus a year with the auximin pet scan and the genetic testing. Which is, of course, a one time only. But the other two are ongoing.

Now you might say. Geez, it’s saving your life. What’s the price for that? A good question. And I so appreciate all the medical advances in prostate care. I like living. But, in staying alive, I have to do just that, live. Quality of life is important, too. If my disposable income gets sopped up by co-pays and co-insurance, then I’m stuck. Yes, it’s a problem of privilege, I see that, too. However, it’s still a problem.

I reapplied to the Assistance Fund for co-pay assistance with the Orgovyx. I won’t know until January, possibly late January. They say their ability to reup aid for those of us in the program depends on the financial commitments they get from their patrons. Which makes sense. But it does leave the process a bit too up in the air. Why I’m a bit sensitive about the Myriad bill.

Aging is, among many other things, expensive.

Not complaining. Well, not personally complaining. I can handle it. But for so many an $1,800 bill would break their finances. Let alone a regular $836 dollars a month. This is capitalism and our Rube Goldberg payment methods for medical care. Did I mention a need for universal health care?

Rabbi Jamie read this poem yesterday:

Dirge Without Music

Edna St. Vincent Millay – 1892-1950

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.

Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains,—but the best is lost.

The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,—
They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

Cinema and Television, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Memories, Minnesota, Tarot, Travel

A busy day

December 7, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Winter Solstice Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Colonoscopy prep. Jon last night. Cancer worries. Jon’s 53rd on Friday. At Gaetano’s. Ruth and Gabe putting their Hanukkah gift mugs in my cabinet. Our cabinet. Cabinets emptied. Whew. Bowe starts demo today. The new cabinets, the bottom ones needed for the quartzite fabricators are here. Bowe installs those on Thursday. The plan anyhow. Herme is home. Neon. Noble gases. Elements. Sulfur. Helium. Carbon. Uranium. Lead. Potassium.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Phase Four

Tarot: Six of Stones, wildwood

Dove off of always under construction Highway 70 at the Peoria exit. Then spent an interesting 15 minutes searching for Identgo, the TSA contractor for my TSA prechek appointment. 39th Street is a boundary line. On its south flank Aurora extends into its eastern suburbs. On its north it serves as an artery for capillary streets that end at the freeway’s fence. Concrete buildings with truck bays facing the street. A few RV’s parked in what look like permanent positions. Lots of extended chain link topped with razor wire. The faceless underbelly of small companies or the warehouses for big ones.

Identgo, also the site of Unicorn Drug testing, sat at the end of one of eight rows of sad, buff colored small offices. Christ-Ministry. Gospel Church. Mountain Stone. Identgo.

I had a thick sheaf of documents, divorce decree, marriage licenses, a birth certificate. They stayed in their envelope. This was a much more casual process than I had imagined. The gender fluid person who checked me had on outrageous boots. Made of brocade with thick laces and standing on 5 inch heels these were uncommon.

“Those are some boots” started a longer conversation. They showed me photos of other cool boots. A Canadian designer was their favorite. He also had high boots that looked like cows hooves. Dress shoes in yellow. Or, fading from yellow to purple.

They had been in Tokyo and NYC working for Identgo. In spite of the cheesiness of the office, the process itself was high-tech and quick. A handheld computer did most of the work. A blue screen for a photo, $85 and Bob’s your uncle.

Hopped onto 70 listening to a CPR program about Westside Story and why Puerto Ricans felt a remake was overdo. Short answer: Rita Moreno was the only PR in the first version though she did win an Oscar. Also, it reinforced Puerto Rican’s as an immigrant group somehow involved in teen delinquency. Might not have been so bad if it didn’t go on to become the best musical and fourth favorite movie of the Oscars.

Turned off I-25 near Bronco’s Stadium and into another, more upscale warren of businesses. Zuni Street. At 13th, near the brand new and strange Meow Wolf, I turned left into a newer, snazzier business mall. Morry’s Neon.

When I got there Tina, Glen, and one of the master benders were eating Mexican food off paper plates. Probably food truck fare. Glen took me back in the shop, plugged in the Hermit. I said. Wow. He smiled. Showed me how he would hang it. Clean it with a soft brush. The transformers good for about ten years. Other than that. No maintenance.

Tina took my money. Glen loaded Herme in the back of Ruby. Onto a moving blanket I had positioned there for that purpose. Back up the hill. And, none too soon.

Since Kate’s illness, the pandemic, and her death, I’ve not gone down the hill much. I find myself overstimulated in the city. Traffic. Exits. Navigating. Too many people. Lights. Police. Just. More. Than. I. Need. Strange for a guy who did nothing but urban work for over 25 years. But, true. Exurban, mountain me.

When I got back, the remainder of the cabinet cleanout. Though I had a huge stack of boxes in the living room on Saturday, I used all of them except one. I did the last few jars while I fed the dogs this morning. Lots of evidence of mice. Wish I could have a cat.

This whole process got hard. Oh, I remember Kate using this cherry pitter. Who owns a cherry pitter, anyhow? Her canning stuff, pressure cooker, water bath. Empty Ball jars. The mustard yellow fondue pot. A relic of the sixties. Her sixties.

There’s a dark beauty in grief. As it deepens feelings, it opens me to more feelings, to the wonder of our time together. Cooking. Harvesting honey. I came across a quart jar of Artemis Honey with the Ode made label still on the lid. Peaches. 2016. 2018. Western slope peaches. Canned right here. There was currant jelly, too. Ground cherry, wild grape. All by her hand. So much. Quilts. Mug rugs. Runners. What a life we had.

In an hour I’m leaving to take Jon to his colonoscopy. Sarah and BJ, two of Kate’s sisters, may have convinced him to let them help him sort out his house. That would be a big deal. He might get the stimulus to finish the kitchen, other rooms. That would be so good.

Family, Holidays, Judaism

And on the third night

December 1, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the waning crescent of the Holiseason Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Jon, in trouble. Ruth, caring for a friend. Gabe, cheerful and helpful. Hanukkah. Lights, presents. Gratefulness. Sarah, Anne, BJ. Tender brisket. Melts in the mouth, they said! Neil Stephenson. Termination Shock. The Master of Djinn. Reading. Fantasy. Science fiction.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Gifts

Tarot:

Hanukkah. Lights, camera, presents!

Family, Fourth Phase, Health, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, The West, Weather +Climate

Remodeling. Water.

November 30, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the waning crescent of the Holiseason Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Land Institute. Giving. Tara. Jon and his worm fantasy. Rigel. Kep. The Sun. The Moon. Orion. The Zodiac. Republicans. Trump. Omicron. Covid. Death. Life. Kate, always Kate. Wood. Water. Fire. Air.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Kitchen remodel starts Monday

Tarot: The Queen of Stones, Bear. wildwood deck

Jodi emailed me yesterday. Bowe will demolish my kitchen on Monday. That’s a good thing. Because. He’ll start to rebuild it on Tuesday. Once he gets the cabinet bases in place the quartzite fabricator folks will come to do their arcane work. Can’t imagine the precision they have to have. Wait 10 days or two weeks. In which time Bowe will finish the cabinetry. After the installation of the counter top Bowe will put up the brick backsplash and make finishing touches. Done by Christmas. Probably.

Deconstruction. Yes. Construction. Yes.

This week then. Empty all the kitchen cabinets. Getting started today.

At that point I’ll be finished with my 2021 house projects: Staining the house. Adding the mini-splits. Remodeling the kitchen. Hermit neon sign. With one exception. I want to get the furniture rearranged. A lot of heavy lifting.

I’m going to text Mike Vanderhee who put in our fence. I imagine he has a buddy who’s strong like bull, too. Mike carried my 50 inch television up the stairs to the loft and put it in place. Damn thing is really heavy.

Next year. Couch and landscaping.

The ephemeral nature of all this. Could be a wildfire tomorrow. Take it all out. Just after it was done. Could be. But. I choose not to live that way. Insurance. A mountain attitude. Just things. Take the dogs and go.

Jon does not have hookworms. His cat apparently does. The urgent care folks said no. No evidence. He expressed chagrin. Anxiety. Rides him like a cowboy breaking a hoss. You know, rodeo metaphors. The West.

Speaking of the West. Snowpack worries have begun to show up in the Denver Post. The Southern and Southwestern part of the state are in 30% of normal range. The Northern part of the state is more like 75%. Most of the Snowpack comes later so no one is sure what’s going to happen, but the possibility for dry adding on to dry is high.

The highest stakes though are in the Northwestern part of the state where the Mountain snowpack feeds the Colorado. The reservoirs downstream like Lake Mead are so low that a minimal snowpack would (probably will) cause old Water rights to come into effect. This means upper basin states like Colorado and Utah may have to let more water go downstream than usual. Water rights holders in those two states may not get all the water they’re used to. The future. Is now.

As a lifelong resident of the humid East until 2014, I find Water politics passing strange. So important. The growth in Colorado population, which is rapid, is in the Front Range/Denver metro corridor. The Water is mostly in the Western part of the state. A call on Water rights for the Colorado could/would produce impacts here. Complicated. Difficult. No easy answer.

Well. Wildfires and Drought. The modern West. Right where I am.

Cooking, Dogs, Family, Fourth Phase, Friends, Holidays, Judaism, Our Land and Home, Shadow Mountain, Tarot

A twofer

November 29, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Ancient brothers. Bright, Sun shiny Day. Black Mountain. Enduring. Wildfire. Drought. Kin. Of all kinds, furry and other. Cooking. Kitchen(s). Beds. Chairs. Computers. Televisions. Wires. The internet. Newspapers, online and papery/inky. Reporters. Politics. Climate. Its changes.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Cooking.

Tarot: Sunday-The Queen of Stones. Bear. Wildwood Tarot Monday-The Sun of Life, #19 of the major arcana

Oh, boy. A little bleary eyed at 8:30 am. Slept in till 7:30. Made a chicken stew(soup). A Joan Nathan recipe. A Jewish Julia Childs. I made brisket as well for our traditional Hanukkah dinner tonight. Instant Pot. Moist and tender.

Had an interesting experience while I was cooking. A sense of well-being and rightness rose up. I love this! Cooking. It made me so glad that I’d persevered with the kitchen remodel. I feel alive in the kitchen in the same way I do when I write. Paint. With the occasional call from the mitzvah committee at CBE, Jon and the kids I have real people to cook for too. Including me. Maybe I’ll work on a cooking for yourself cookbook.

YEP. Forgodda about it. So, this is now the post for Sunday and Monday.

Saturday evening cooking put me down. For the night plus a bit. Has me thinking about finding those cushiony mats for the stove and prep area. It’s the standing. Combine low to no testosterone and sarcopenia. Result: Legs not as strong as the gardening days. Or, the more recent fire mitigation days. Even so you’ll note I’ve found a happy place. The kitchen.

The Ancient Brothers (our new name, probably the one we’re sticking with) zoomed. Paul joined on the road from Burlington to Robbitson, Maine. Topic: post-pandemic life. Positives from the pandemic. I’ll share the article and some of our thoughts later this week.

Lunch with Tara, who has moved on from her position as director of the religious school at CBE. Sushi! Tara and Marilyn, both last name Saltzman, not related, Kate and I met our first ever evening at CBE over six years ago. Both of them are good friends today. I celebrated her work for the synagogue and our friendship.

Jon discovered what he believes are hookworms in his feet. So. No Hanukkah yesterday for the kids. Maybe tonight, or we might do it on Saturday. My brisket and the chicken stew with matzo balls rest in the frig until they come. I had a bit of the brisket last night. Moist and tasty. The chicken stew has a second lap to its cooking and I won’t do that until I know they’re coming for sure. Part of it is making the matzo balls. Needed the rest yesterday, too, so I’m not unhappy with waiting. Still worn out from Saturday evening.

Need to go down for breakfast and break Kep and Rigel out of the house. It’s housecleaning day. I so look forward to the day when the house has been reorganized, the kitchen remodeled. I have boxes and piles everywhere on the main level. Getting ready for emptying the kitchen when I get a firm date from Jodi.

Bought a Roomba. Kep. It will keep the main level and my floor downstairs clear of dog hair. Shoulda bought this years ago. Happy Hanukkah, me!

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Holidays, Judaism, Memories, Shadow Mountain, Travel

Thanks

November 26, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Friday gratefuls: Thanks giving. Kate. Who was always prepared. Ruth, who did not want to talk about Grandma. Then, did. Good stories, well told, bringing Grandma to Thanksgiving. The Ham. The Stuffing. The Pecan Pie and the Cranberry sauce, both made by Ruth. The Texas Toothpick Gabe got me served the ham. “It was the best present ever for you, Grandpop.”

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The kitchen remodel

Tarot: doing a spread later

It has come and gone. The first major holiday without my wife, without Grandma, without the oldest sister, without Kep and Rigel’s and Jon’s mom. These are holes in the fabric of our family, dug by Azrael. Left to be filled in as we knit together a new family, one without her physical presence.

Since I have long cooked the holiday meals and since Kate’s presence as an active participant in the holidays began to fade a couple of years ago, it was not as painful as it might have been for me. Ruth, less so. Jon, too. Gabe seems pretty level.

We spent time talking about Kate. Jon remembered when she brought the makings for pizza when he was in rehab. Ruth remembered Kate and her cooking. Gabe said he didn’t remember much. I told about the time in the Galliard Cut of the Panama Canal when a woman sitting with us pulled out wet wipes, just like Kate always did, and I gave in to her be prepared way. Then there was that time in Pizarro’s house (really) in Lima, Peru. She leaned her head on my shoulder. So much more.

On our honeymoon I got pneumonia and spent most of the time in Vienna recovering. Thanks to the antibiotics Kate had packed. Kate as the ninja weeder. Her name for her dogged attention to the plants out of place in our garden. A bandana around her forehead, a spading trowel in her hand. She gave so many things all she had. The ski bags she made for Jon. That dress she made from six-year old Ruth’s sketch. The shirts she made for me. Her medical practice. Her quilts. What a woman. So lucky I met her and got to love her. Be loved by her. May her journey be what it needs to be.

Slept in for an hour this morning. Cooking and cleaning up after a big meal. Whew. I find myself now able to do all that, not cringe. Just do it. What I’m not is a great host. Kate had that gene though neither of us enjoyed the role. Wonder if I could learn? Not sure. The introverted me finds shepherding an event and cooking/cleaning for same just too much. Not sure if I want to learn though it is an ancient and honored part of entertaining. Making folks feel welcome, seeding good conversations, maybe a game or two.

Whenever reading books about the Middle East, especially historical works, the rules of hospitality are so prominent. No matter who, even an enemy, deserved and received at least three days of food and shelter and freedom from attack. Don’t know whether that reflects actual practice, but they did lift hospitality to a prominent social norm, for sure.

Sunday night, the first night of Hanukkah, Jon and the kids return. I’m making brisket, traditional, and Jon has the making for latkes. We got a gift from Schecky and BJ, a box of lox (hah), latkes, apple sauce, sour cream, Hanukkah candles, and gelt. The presents from the sisters, the wrapped ones, are on the downstairs table. Not sure yet how we’ll handle the 8 days of present giving and candle lighting. We’ll decide on Sunday.

Another first without Kate.

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Kabbalah, Mussar, Shadow Mountain, Tarot

Some days…

November 22, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Monday gratefuls: Mark Horn. Tree of Life spread reading. Ancient Brothers. Siblings. TJ Henry. All-Clad 12″ skillet. Induction cooking. The Ham. Ruth, Jon, Gabe coming up Wednesday night for Thanksgiving. Mark going to Minnesota. The beautiful Holiseason moon. A splendid morning. Life with Kate. Now. A corner I need to turn.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Tree of Life tarot spread

Tarot: Eight of Stones, skill. wildwood tarot.

What a day. Ancientrails. Journeymen. (Ancient Brothers?). TJ Henry. Derek and the air conditioner. Late nap. Tarot reading by Mark Horn, Gates of Light Tarot. Lots of love on this day.

The Journeymen. Or, the Ancient Brothers. Yesterday morning Paul, Bill, Mark, and I. We spoke of siblings, how we felt about them, how they were in our lives now. A heartfelt hour plus. In the end we recognized the truth. That we are, and have been for many years, true brothers to each other. Including Tom, absent with Roxann for her mother’s funeral on Saturday. Siblings are not solely about blood.

Afterward over to Evergreen Comfort Inn Suites. A woman had posted on Nextdoor about being forced out of her house with her two dogs. The guy she lived with shut off the electricity to her area, cut her wifi, and did other things she chose not to mention. Some thought it was a scam, but it felt genuine to me. And, besides, I’d rather take a chance and be scammed rather than not take a chance and leave somebody in need without help.

Even after I met TJ and her two fluffy snack-sized dogs, I couldn’t tell for sure. Came home wondering.

Then, I found this posted on Nextdoor this morning.

Strong and Powerful Evergreen Community.

Thank you all so much for your help and support in my blight of late. I cannot thank you all enough. I am putting together a list of all the resources sent to me for someone else who may need them in the future. I will distribute.

Charles Buckman-Ellis, who recently lost his wife, left me with these kind words today. “Thank you for allowing me to help you today!” A beautiful man with a amazing soul. Rich Wyatt. Thank you for the ride to Walmart. Greatly appreciated. 🦋

Not a scam. My heart. Went full.

Later in the day Derek, a true neighbor, came over and helped me remove the single room air conditioner from my front window. It had cooled Kate while she sat in her place working crosswords and playing solitaire. With the mini-splits in place it had become a source of cold air leaking in from the outside and unnecessary. Into the garage.

Also Derek.

Couple of trees, one dead, too close to the house. He also took down dead trees further back on our lot. A decent symbiosis. He heats with wood. I’ve lost the strength necessary to do my own logging. (which, btw, I don’t like) Even when I was able to do it these particular trees seemed beyond my amateur arborist skills. Didn’t want to drop them on my roof. Derek tied ropes to them and felled them away from the house.

He also offered to build a bench using one of the logs and the two stumps. I said, sure. That’d be great. Think he’s doing it right now.

Then, in the evening I had my first ever tarot reading. Mark Horn, of Gates of Light tarot. Gonna go more in depth on this later. Tarot works. How? Not a clue. Well, some clue, but not much.

Here’s the big takeaway. In order to move into my next life, next phase, I need to embrace Kate as a presence in my life, a positive, support presence. I need to end the paradox of feeling remorse for feeling good. When I can pull this off, my next life will emerge on its own.

Cooking, Family, Fourth Phase, Health, Politics, Shadow Mountain, Tarot

Family

November 21, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Ruth and her sadness. Gabe and his joy. Jon and his struggles. A family meal. Chocolate chip cookies and chex mix. Holidays. Holiseason. Cold weather. Drought. Wildfire. Kate and Mike. Max. Paul and Sarah. Tom and Roxann. Death. Life. Friendship and family. Politics. And its heart knives. Weariness. The race has been long.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Hanukkah gifts from the Aunts

Tarot: The knight of stones, wildwood tarot

When I woke up from my nap, Jon, Ruth, and Gabe were already here. They came in quietly knowing my napping habit, bless their little hearts. Around 3 pm. Long nap.

Gabe, who is blossoming, took a box I had set aside, one of many for the kitchen remodel emptying of cabinets, and cut arm holes and eye holes in it, wearing it over his head and upper body. I’m a box troll. Good energy for the day. For the Hermitage.

Jon got tired out by the end of the week, but felt good about it. Next week he’s off for a week, then starts up for two weeks, then Christmas two weeks off. A gentle return. I take him on December 7th for a colonoscopy/endoscopy. He’s never had a solid answer as to why his heath declined so fast. I went from a strong middle aged man to an old man over the course of a year.

He limps from some muscle weakness in his left leg, unexplained. His hip feels out of joint. But. He seems to have the Addison’s (adrenal insufficiency), thyroid insufficiency, and his type 1 diabetes under much better control. In particular he admits he’d let his blood sugar run high since the divorce. Five years ago. Now he’s trying to go back to his usual running lean.

Like many others during Covid Jon got off his exercise routines, too. Pretty important for maintaining muscle strength, cardio fitness. He feels in a bad enough place physically that he’s not planning on skiing this year.

Ruth made biscuits and chocolate chip cookies while I made chili. Discovered a flaw in the induction ready pots and pans I purchased as a set. The skillet is too small and so is the dutch oven, at least for the kind of cooking I do when I’m making a larger meal. Back to Williams-Sonoma this morning.

The Paula Deen chili recipe I chose filled the whole skillet and I initially had to leave out a can of black beans. Overflow. Felt like I was cooking in a very cramped space. Good part? Induction stove tops are easy to clean. Still learning, but getting there.

We ate late. For me. Early by the Aurora Olson’s standard which it seems is a more Latin American 9 pm.

Still suffering news aversion. On NPR I heard the Rittenhouse verdict. Pounded my steering wheel. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Then I turned off the radio. Feels like the world may be slipping out from beneath me. If it does, where will I be?

On the other hand that new life, the one I’ve written about, wondered about. Seems it will have cooking, family, friends in a central spot. One ring in a three ring circus. A second ring. Work, my life alone. Third. Something more communal, perhaps political, perhaps religious, perhaps occult. Maybe all three?

The fourth phase. Spirituality. Relationships. Action. Creativity.

Tired. Lost sleep last night. First time in years I had a small stitch in my colon, a sure sign of anxiety for me. I’ve remained calm, mostly, even through the strains of the last year. Oddly, I think it may be getting back to a more normal day-to-day that has caused my anxiety. I’m not fending off or encountering huge stressors. I have time to think about my relationships with Jon, Ruth, Gabe. With Mary and Mark. With the Journeymen (aka Ancientones). CBE. I may slip out of the moment and into tomorrow, or the next day. Result? A frisson of tension. A soupcon of angst. Working on it.

Aging, Art and Culture, Cooking, Family, Fourth Phase, Health, Latin, Shadow Mountain, Tarot, Translating Metamorphoses, Writing

Intense, Dude

November 20, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Cincinnati Chili. Cooking. Learning how to again, on induction. Mini-splits at work. Experimental month with the hot water heat all off. Kate. Missing her sweetness. Holiseason well underway. Exercise finally back all the way. Core exercises. Diaphragmatic breathing. Kabbalah. Tarot. The Eel. Alan.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Seeing Jon, Ruth, Gabe today

Tarot: The Knight of Vessels, the Eel. Wildwood Tarot

Parkside in Evergreen for breakfast with Alan yesterday. Took my new Roger with me. Had Alan clip it to his clothing. At least if I forgot Roger he would go home with somebody I know. Alan’s having cataract surgery in December. He drove me to mine last October. Seeing a friend in person, two actually, since Rebecca Martin was there, too, is so important.

I told Alan about my Hermit neon sign that is underway. We got a good laugh out of the Master Benders. He wanted to know why. Because I see myself a hermit now, I said. We can fix that, he said. No, thanks, but I appreciate the thought. Maybe I should have gone with the Fool. The beginner’s mind. Setting off on the journeymen’s pilgrimage. Each morning. Maybe that will be one for the loft next year.

Honey baked ham. Drove over to their shop in Littleton, near Tony’s. Lots of hams in the coolers. Just one of hundreds of these shops. Had an instant vision of all the Pigs. A moment of sadness. Bought half-a-ham. Sealed in gold foil. Sitting in the frig.

Put in a pick-up order with Safeway. All the ingredients for chili. Now including chili powder for the first time in three years. I love Cincinnati chili. Chili on spaghetti with sour cream, shredded cheddar, and sliced green onions. And, of course, oyster crackers.

Bought some fancy spaghetti at Tony’s for the chili. Also some salted caramel tiny beignets for dessert.

Back home for a nap. Then, workout. I have, at last, gotten back to my old intensity. Been going at reduced speed and intensity since late June when I pounded my IT band into high tension on the sidewalks of Hickam Air Force Base.

Probably a bit more than the old intensity. Two HIIT sessions with lower body resistance and core. Two cardio sessions with upper body and core. Over 5 hours a week now and I can tell the difference. My stamina’s better as is my breathing.

Here’s the conundrum though. I know I need this level of exercise to keep myself healthy, or as healthy as I can be. But that means it has to be routine.

I plan to reduce my week total to four days since I can get all the exercise I need in that time. I’ve had trouble when going for five days a week since I’ve kept the weekends exercise free. With exercise five days a week and writing Ancientrails I use up my mornings.

After I workout, I go downstairs, eat lunch, have a nap. Often I don’t feel like doing anything after the nap. Easy, you might say, stop napping. Yeah. Except. Started napping in 1989. Continuous then to now. That’s what, 32 years? Pretty much a habit.

That’s why four days. The HIIT makes getting my exercise quotient in quick. Wednesdays I plan as my off days. Then, I’ll be able to get phone calls, errands run on Wednesday, necessary work for the admin side of life. When I use up my mornings, and feel done in the afternoons it is not so easy to handle that stuff.

Brother Mark asked in an e-mail this morning if I’d gotten back to my Latin. No. I haven’t. But I appreciated the nudge. I want to get back to Ovid, to Latin, to the writing that flows from it. Painting, too. Slowly, slowly. Taking life at a pace that works. Wu wei.

Well. Just drove over to Evergreen, to CBE. Was going to attend a Torah study session with Rabbi Jamie. I love studying scripture. It’s fun. And, sometimes insightful. However. I need to learn close reading. Of the invitation to the Word and Deed time. Which clearly said, when I brought it up on my phone in the empty CBE parking lot: Zoom only. Sigh.

Back in the car. Over to Safeway to get chili makings. Pickup. Back home now. A day of work inside the house. Moving this and that. Starting to clear out the kitchen for the remodel. Making chex mix, chili.

The Knight of Vessels: The Eel

Promoting harmony. Welcoming. Coming Together.

Perhaps a key part of the Hermitage will be welcoming, coming together, even hosting. My idea of cooking family dinners at 5 pm every Saturday, y’all come, feels good. Today will be the first and already Ruth wants to come early to make cookies. Yes!

The eel, according to Caitlin Matthews, see below* for more information, is a protector. One who could, in Celtic myth, be transformed into a sword.

As a protective animal in the suit of the emotions, vessels, and living in the water way, the knight of vessels is welcome in my home as family comes. Help us realize love and unity as we gather, eat.

*Eels have the most mysterious life cycle and make the longest journey of any of the court card beasts. Spawned in the Sargasso Sea near the Bahamas, the young, transparent elvers make their way across the North Atlantic to European river-mouths. Making their way between water-courses, they often wriggle overland to find another waterway. When they are mature as silver eels, they return to the Sargasso Sea to spawn. The birch tree was one of the first native British trees to emerge from the ice after glaciation.

Caitlin Matthews, Wildwood Blog

Family, Holidays, Tarot

Simcha

November 19, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Friday gratefuls: Alan. My phone. Derek. Laurie Knox. The Bailey Patchworkers. Holly Bailey. Kate’s gifts, still coming in. Hanukkah presents from the Aunt’s. Jon, Ruth, Gabe. Coming up here tomorrow and Thanksgiving. Cincinnati Chili tomorrow. Honey Baked Ham on Thanksgiving. Kep and Rigel. Indulgent. Another later morning for me. By 30 minutes.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Mary in the Midwest

Tarot: Thanksgiving Spread. What can I do to make this Thanksgiving joyous? Eight of Stones, skill. Ten of Vessels, happiness. Page of Stones, Lynx.

The first card I turned over, the issue card, was the Ten of Vessels, happiness. This is a card about family, coming from the watery, emotional realm of vessels and cups. It celebrates completion, realization, harvest. Exactly the issue. Yes, Kate will not be with us for the first time on Thanksgiving. Yes, that’s sad. I feel it already.

Yet. We live now. Not then. Thanksgiving is a harvest itself. Those around the table are folks brought in from the various corners of your life. In my case Jon, Ruth, Gabe. Each thanksgiving is a harvest of the moments big and small in the past year. In our case. Whadda year. Lot of my friends, too. Seeking joy in times made cold by Covid, by death, by other losses. This is when joy is most important, if it’s authentic.

The second card. The eight of stones, skill. This one took me aback at first. Then, I realized. Oh. Yeah. This is what to avoid. This meal is not about skill in the kitchen or being on our best behavior. A focus on those things will kill the joy. This is a time to say yes. To be with each other as family, not as chefs or party planners.

The third card. Action to take. The page of stones. The earth focus. Malkut. Here and now. Learning how to live in this place, with others. We’re learning how to be here for each other. We have learned how to be here for each other. Thanksgiving will be joyful if we (especially me) remember we’re all just students, figuring out how to be human. How to be family.

Having two stones in this spread reminds me that this Thanksgiving the focus is on us, here, in this place. Right now. In the physical realm. Together. Food. Hugs. Dogs. Life as family, family as legacy, family as home.