Trolley?

Winter                                                      Settling Moon

Mike the Fence guy came by and got his final check. He said he has a trolley today. Trolley? His neighbor has two Belgian horses and they do trolley rides for various groups, decorating the trolley for the event. He’s a general purpose guy, “I do a lot of things.” We’ll use him to haul away all the cardboard from unpacking, for example.

His resemblance to John Goodman, in habitus, mannerisms and voice is uncanny. He could be a movie double for him easily.

Talking to him today made feel good again about using him for the fence. He knows folks who do all sorts of things, “I’ve lived here 23 years and I know a lot of people.” Local connections are important living in a rural area and we’ve made at least one good one already.

Kate met a woman at the bank who moved here from England a couple of years ago. She said her mother, instead of moving here to be near the grandkids, “moved to Spain.”

 

The Move. Continuing.

Winter                                                  Settling Moon

The lodgepole pines sway in an early morning gust. They have whitened branches near their crowns, remnants of last night’s snow. Today will be clear and colder, Conifer being 16 while Andover registers 37.  A bit backward from expectations, but individual days will vary.

Once all of our stuff finally has a place in our home we can begin the process of shuffling and repositioning. That will take into the summer I imagine, gradually lessening as winter winds down and we make the turn toward our first mountain spring, but continuing as we refine our use of the spaces here.

It’s easier to breathe here, unless exerting yourself, the thinner, cleaner air a mild revelation, the lack of humidity a part of it, too.

We still have to get a washer/dryer, but have to decided to wait until post-Christmas sales.

The longest move, following the longest night, should come to an end today. May it be so.

By Hand

Winter                                                            Settling Moon

A move is a window, very much like cruising, into another world. While traveling the Panama Canal and ports in South American, Kate and I witnessed over and over again the transition in shipping from stevedores manhandling cargo, to the intermodal form of transport using sealed metal containers. These shipping containers are a ubiquitous symbol of globalization and appeared, along with the elaborate derricks and loader/unloaders necessary for their efficient use, in every port we visited.

A domestic move, from home to home, on the other hand, remains in the same historical moment before Macolm P. McLean, a shipping entrepreneur, introduced the container. In these moves each piece of cargo leaves its spot thanks to the hands of men and women (I have to assume there are women movers though I’ve not seen them.).

The cargo goes on a truck, comes off a truck moved by human hands, perhaps with the help of a wheeled dolly. This whole process is, as a result, expensive and time consuming. It’s also subject to breakdowns physical, mechanical and personal. We had all three yesterday.

Today everyone will be fresher. There will be no snow and I imagine care will be taken to avoid the ditch. Today, too, is arrival day.

Fraught

Winter                                                                        Settling Moon

The three movers, David and Anthony, two Apache’s and their nephew, an Apache/Navajo teenager, went on strike last night as dark fell, the tow truck had not come and they had already been working since 8 a.m.

It was a fraught situation. Richard has a plane to catch today, returning to Florida for Christmas with his wife and daughter, two dogs. He needs (in trucker driver needs) unload his truck and he wanted it done last night. Matters, however, conspired against him.

Snow, recalcitrant crew, a truck in a ditch with county snowplows making regular sweeps on Black Mountain Drive, commuters coming home from work and the holiday always lying in the background. He called for the tow at 3:30 p.m. 5:30 pm came and went. Later, Richard learned, the first tow truck had broken its transmission en route.

At 7:05 pm last night, the tow truck finally came. But locals here had seen the situation, talked with Richard, got their pick-ups ready and had him out about 20 minutes before the tow arrived.

All the while I’m relearning the serenity of accepting the things I cannot change.

We start again this morning at 8 am with two crews of two plus Richard. Our belongings will be in the house and up in the loft today. One day more or less is insignificant.

While looking through our front door at the 26 foot U-haul truck stuck in the ditch, its hazard lights lit up the slow fall of snow flakes. “Winter wonderland,” said Richard, the Floridian, with a hint of sarcasm. But, you know, it was. I leaned over to Kate and said, “Won’t this make a great story to tell our grandchildren?”

 

Stuck

Winter                                                                 Settling Moon

The opportunity for learning grows as the day goes on. The second load in the U-Haul encountered a ditch in front of our house. Stuck. Snow has begun to fall, gentle snow-globe snow. That means the county snowplows, very diligent have started up again. The sheriff has come.

Little is in the house as yet; the dogs have been crated since 11:30 or so. Richard, the driver, has a plane to catch for West Palm Beach tomorrow, holiday with his family. He intends to finish tonight and has called for extra workers.

Serenity to accept the things you cannot change. Repeat. And, repeat.

Not much we can do but watch this min-drama unfold. The movers do not work much longer, I can tell, and who could blame them? The thing I could do, I did. I suggested they come back tomorrow, but Richard has his plane.

As I said, lots of opportunity for growth. Wisdom to know the difference. Amen.

Signs and Portents

Winter                                                   Settling Moon

Signs and portents. While studying the Hebrew scriptures, I learned that a true prophet was one whose prophecies came true. A false prophet? Well…

Reading the signs that come into our lives. Difficult, but inevitable. Three instances. When I first came here on Samain, October 31st, for the closing, I found three large mule deer bucks in the backyard. They looked me, curious. I returned the curiosity. I moved closer and they stayed in place. On later reflection they seemed to be spirits of Shadow Mountain investigating a new resident.

Second. When Tom and I drove out here on December 20th, we encountered heavy fog in Nebraska. Then, the sky was clear and the stars out. The suddenness of the change took both Tom and me by surprise. A physical moment crossing from the humid east into the arid west, a welcome home to our new region.

Third. Shortly after crossing this barrier, a very bright and what appeared close shooting star, perhaps multiple shooting stars gathered together, flashed across the northwestern sky. Again, it took Tom and me by surprise. A confirmation of the second sign and welcome to the clan of those who have traveled this way before.

The wonderful thing about omens is this, they are multivalent, open to multiple interpretations. As our life here becomes more settled, their import might change.

Acceptance

Winter                                               Settling Moon

Belongings had to be shuttled in by U-Haul truck. Van wouldn’t fit in the driveway. An extra, healthy charge.

New place, new persona. Anger, not helpful. I looked up the serenity prayer, took off the first word and went through this wise sentence many times. “Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change: the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.”

So. Could I adjust the size of the van or the length and width of our driveway? No. Pay the cost, then. Greet the driver and the movers as allies in our move. Which they are.

The dogs, whose crates would be exposed to the wind through open garage doors, I could help. I cut up emptied boxes and taped them around their crates as a wind barrier. Unexpected result? Quiet, peaceful dogs. Something I could change.

Kate and I had a nice lunch while the movers are packing the remainder of the load into the U-Haul truck, got some rest and can still laugh. The Colorado me.

 

Home

Winter                                                   New (Settling) Moon

The cargo van has been unloaded and returned, a day early, to the Denver airport. A bit of confusion there, as there was when we picked it up. Cargo vans do not normally leave the local Enterprise fleet. This one did. They knew it, too. $300 fee to cover re-registration and licensing, plus a taste for corporate.

Kate and I had supper at Tres Los Garcias in Aspen Park. Aspen Park is the largest of three retail centers along 285 located in Conifer. As you might expect in a state with a longstanding Latino community, the food is pretty good.

As we drove up Shadow Mountain Drive tonight, there was snow coming down. I hope it’s a small snow since the van comes tomorrow. After that, let it snow!

Still a measure of unreality here, the I feel like I’m on vacation feeling. Though not in the house. The dogs have all found spots on the living room’s radiantly heated tile. They’re going to have the run of this level, the one with the kitchen and Kate’s sewing room. (at until they prove our trust is not warranted.) We’ve found our own spot. Home.

Winter Solstice 2014

Winter                                                       New (Settling In) Moon

A sacred calendar follows a scheme that interprets the flow of the year from within a certain perspective. It is now Hanukkah, for example, a holiday of memory, the annual recollection of rebellion and a small victory offered by a god. Later this week, on December 25th, Christmas, in all its multi-layeredness, descends on children and retailers alike. This holiseason, the period from October 31st to Epiphany has the brave festivals of light as well as Samain, Thanksgiving and the Winter Solstice.

Today, on my sacred calendar, and more significantly, tonight comes the most loved holiday of the year, the Winter Solstice. While, yes, it’s true to observe that axial tilt is the reason for the season, the empirical and scientific reductionism implied manages to the human meaning entirely.

The tilt of the earth’s axis and its orbit around the sun combine to make this the longest night of the year. See this webpage for a helpful animation of day/night length. At 4:03 pm Mountain Time today “… the sun on our sky’s dome reaches its farthest southward point for the year.) earthsky

The sacred moment comes not when earth’s axial tilt darkens our home place longer than at any other point on the orbit, no, the sacred moment comes when we consider the possible meanings, metaphorical, physical, psychological, ritual that longest darkness offers, or perhaps better, stimulates.

The sacred moment comes when the illumination and enlightenment focused Western mind encounters the dark, the quiet. Not all of human significance comes from reason and analytical work, perhaps not the most important in particular.

What does reason have to offer as we contemplate death, for example? Or the deepest human suffering or injustice? How does enlightenment speak to the fecund reality of life beneath the soil, of life beneath conscious thought? It cannot speak there for its realm lies with Demeter and like Demeter cannot reach the Hadean depths of either the earth or the human mind.

Tonight we celebrate the shadow, not the noon day sun. Tonight we embrace, for a moment, the darkness to this life death brings. Tonight we join, just for a while the roots and rhyzomes, the microbes and tiny, burrowing animals as they move and live and have their being out of sight of the sky, creating a richness on which we feed. On which if you consider the food chain we must feed.

Tonight we celebrate the dark and hidden parts of our own psyche, the wounded soldiers and civilians of our inner realm, those who carry in their struggle some of our most profound possibilities. In my inner realm for example a creature, part-boy and part impatient man (a man very much like my father at his most difficult moments), sometimes seizes the day. Quite literally. This short-tempered man-boy rises when the man I am most has not had enough sleep or is physically tired or sick. He’s annoying and rude, someone my daytime persona would  rather not admit as part of his whole being.

He is, yes, annoying and rude, but in him lies a distinct power. He  can and will confront wrong-doing, injustice, abusive behavior. He lifts the metaphorical sword arm of the more timid and conforming daytime persona. He gives daytime the courage and the will to make a stand. This is his power, though most often its expression is inappropriate, unwanted.

So the long Solstice night gives us a chance to bring our shadow in close, to greet it with the welcome and love it deserves. You might be surprised at the power you could find there. Tonight we celebrate the dark.

 

Containment Challenges: The Colorado Chapter

Winter                                                        New (Settling In) Moon

With Kate letting her body adjust to altitude a mile high it’s just the four dogs and me. I woke up this morning to Kep, the Akita, and Gertie, the German Shorthair, playing outside my closed door. Hmmm. I shut them in Kate’s sewing-area to-be along with the big girls, Vega and Rigel.

Dogs test their containment and if it has flaws, they will find them. In this case the latch is semi-circle of metal that snugs into like shape depression. It allows the door to close, but open again with slight pressure from the kitchen side or a pull from the sewing area. Apparently repeated pushing against the door can pop it loose, too. So, some modification will be called for. Too early for me to figure it out.

After I pick up Kate at 9 this morning, I’m going to finish the shoveling and unload the cargo van. At this altitude and with my current level of acclimation it might take all day.

Managing the dogs makes this place feel homelike very quickly. These familiar, mundane chores are part of where we live. Doing them here offers clear feedback about where home is now.

Mike the Fence guy comes over for his final inspection and payment at 11:00. More integrating.