My UPS just kicked in and saved my current work. But, now I have to go reset the modem. Sigh. (Well, I’ll be damned. The modem fixed itself.)
We’ve had good production out of our solar arrays this last week, not so much the first three weeks of January. We’ll see how generation averages out in this first year. A learning curve.
Kate’s been organizing, an Iowegian dervish of the kitchen. She’s been much lighter since she started. Glad.
Vega goes in tomorrow for a bandage check and biopsy results. Hoping for good news, aware it’s unlikely.
My sister wrote me today from Singapore: “I’ve never seen such an election as this one-I can’t stand the thought of the Trump as president-is it possible ??? Just seems to so much press here…”
My answer to her follows. It’s how I see the election right now:
His main appeal is to white folks left behind by the current Gilded Age. Is it possible he could be the Republican nominee? Increasingly, amazingly, it seems so. But the Republican establishment, the old and big money doesn’t want him. What he’s doing is splitting the GOP base. That means he’ll be weaker in a general election.
The new demographics of the U.S. imply that people of color, especially Latinos, and younger voters plus the traditional Democratic base of liberal whites, especially women hold the key to the Presidency. If they turn out, and that’s always the big question with the Democratic vote, no Republican candidate has a chance.
However. Both Sanders (my guy) and Hillary have substantial downsides. Still, in an election in which Trump is the alternative I believe the Democratic base will rally-out of revulsion if nothing else.
It is a peculiar election. The one that bears the most resemblance in recent memory might be when George Wallace ran as a third party candidate. He was a right wing populist, too. He carried Indiana and changed its politics ever after. By encouraging the southern diaspora to vote against their economic self-interests, essentially through racist appeals, he moved those voters out of the liberal union voter camp into what would become Nixon’s moral majority and the Reagan Democrats of later years. Much more conservative. Many of those folks are now in the Tea Party or are rabidly pro-Trump.
“Please be very careful if you are outside tonight and if you have animals. My next door neighbor was outside with her dog about 6 tonight and a mountain lion ran out from under her deck and ran between our houses. She got her dog inside quickly.”
More Tai Chi for arthritis. Second class yesterday. Our group of 5 shrank to 3 Kate, me, and another woman about our age, maybe a bit younger. But all of us with arthritis of one sort or another. In other words, people of a certain age.
This is a chi gong style, different from the work I did with Great River Tai Chi in Minneapolis. Arthritis makes tai chi more difficult so the creator of this style modified the moves and the attitude. Both are important. The moves are less crisp, more fluid, less dramatic. The attitude is not perfection but persistence. Keeping people moving is the prime goal of this style, so adjusting the moves to what your body allows is the key.
After tai chi, we went back the National Western Stock Show, this time just Kate and me for one of the draft horse events. Our interest in basic agriculture/horticulture and our interest in Irish Wolfhounds, plus our Midwest rural roots, made seeing these giants of the horse world interesting.
It was a long show, almost four hours. These horses, though, whether pulling buckboards or traps, in two hitch or four hitch combinations, were a pleasure to watch. True horsepower in its original form. Their muscles rippled. Their eyes were intense and their individuality was on full display for those who could see it.
Mules were part of this show, too, though I found them much less interesting, at least visually, than the draft horses. While making sure what a mule was, horse + donkey, I discovered that male donkey, a jack, almost always covers a mare. The result of that union is a mule, usually sterile. On occasion a stallion will cover a female donkey and the result of that union is called a hinny.
The last, and best, part of this four hour show was the weight pull. These horses, in two horse pairs, were attached to a metal sled (no wheels) filled with sand bags. They started at seven thousand pounds or so and ended at fourteen thousand, gradually increasing the load until none of the pairs could pull it beyond twenty feet. (my video)
The heart of these pairs was on display as they dug, pulled easily on the lighter loads, or put shoulders and haunches to bulging as the loads got heavier. With the exception of one pair all the rest put all they had into each pull. It was clear they enjoyed the challenge.
Getting a team connected to the sled, accomplished by putting the sled’s hook ended chain through a metal coupler on the horse’s pole and bar, was often the most interesting part of the pull. Why? Because the horses pull when they think they’re attached to the load, often dragging those trying to hitch them up away from the hook.
Always interested in draft horses. Now even more so.
What a day. Todd came to finish up the remnants of the kitchen remodel. It looks wonderful and Kate brought it in for a reasonable price. It’s been difficult, stressful for her, but she’s done a wonderful job. We’re going to the Fort on Sunday night to celebrate her work. Meanwhile she’s happily moving things back in, organizing the kitchen anew, sort of the point of the whole project. Lots more storage space. I’ll post some pictures later on.
But that wasn’t the significant part of the day, at least not the most significant. Ironically, as I wrote Our Friends, Vega was at the vet’s having her left front paw x-rayed again. It’s been swollen for several weeks now. The first x-ray showed infection rather than cancer. So, antibiotics and pain meds. But the swelling has gotten worse.
We got a call from Palmini, the vet. Could we come in at 1 o’clock to review what he’d found? Uh-oh. After several Irish Wolfhounds dying of cancer, we imagined the worst. Tears and reminiscing. Vega is the sweetest, happiest dog we’ve had. Like all of our dogs her place in our lives is special, irreplaceable. That means anticipating a hole where her funny, talkative, bouncy presence is hurt.
Not as bad as all that. It might be cancer, could still be an infection, but we’ve agreed to a biopsy on Monday. The good news is that even if it is cancer, an amputation would cure it. The possible cancers are not aggressive. Amputation sounds drastic, and it is, of course, but for a dog not as big a deal as you might imagine. They quickly adapt to the tripod life and go on. One thing we can all learn from dogs is how to deal with physical adversity. Don’t quit.
We don’t have to lose Vega right now. And, I’m glad.
Can you feel the tension creeping out from here? The (we hope) final day of our kitchen remodel is underway. The new countertop is in, the new broom closet (unprimed, however) is in, the microwave and sinks and faucets are in. Various items, punchlist items, are being taken care of. A couple of other custom cabinets are waiting to be installed. Saws whining, drills screeching, hammers pounding.
Todd’s multicultural crew, Michele (French) and Luis (Latino), is here and have been since 8:30 am. Todd’s a good guy, but he’s a big picture schmoozer in a small picture detail oriented business. We hired him and we’re riding the process out to the end, but we could have done better. The price however was right.
Kate left in the middle of the day for more hand/thumb physical therapy. She came back with black kinesiology tape snaking out from the top of her thumb midway up her forearm. Kinesiology tape? Yep. This gave her time away, a spa hour for her opposable digit.
Nextdoor Shadow Mountain, an electronic water cooler, had a woman on yesterday who wrote: “Any recommendations for an electrician?? The company we were using did not show up for a scheduled appointment, and no one has responded to texts, phone messages, or emails.” This is the story here at altitude. Over and over. In all trades and services.
Last week I wrote the heads of three local business schools and suggested there might be a business opportunity up here. No takers yet, but it’s early days.
That’s how we ended up with Todd. He actually showed up.
Kate’s got another all sew day, this one with the needle workers. They’ll be meeting, ironically, in the much higher and more expensive home of two hospital administrators. She has a brace on her recently surgically altered left thumb which may make this day a bit trying for her. Although, she pushes through that kind of obstacle. Just that kinda gal.
My day will be Latin, review this time for Friday session with Greg, my Latin tutor.
Work out, now during the day to get push all the water I drink further away from bedtime. Trying to get my sleep more routine. Some nights I sleep well, really well. Other nights, like last night, it’s a wrassling match.
I plan to write a short essay, a prolegomena to Reimagining Faith. What is it? Why do I want to do it? What might it be? What are the elements available today that make it possible?
Took Gabe and Ruth to Superdogs at the National Western Stock Show yesterday. We started attending back in 2010. That year I took Ruth on the shuttle. We got about two miles from home. She turned to me with a slightly scared, sad look, she was 3 I think, and said, “I miss my mommy.” I called Jen, she talked to Ruth and we went on.
Since then we’ve seen rodeos, dancing horses, many superdogs, lots of cattle, some pigs, sheep, alpaca. The exhibit halls are full of large metal pincers to hold cattle and other large animals while branding and medicating, fencing, horse stalls, lots of pick-ups and other motorized things like Bobcats, Kubota tractors and John Deere machinery. Trailers of all kinds and lengths. Rope. The big Cinch booth with all things denim and boot.
That first year Jen and Ruth were watching a sheep competition and a reporter from the Denver Post caught them in a picture that went on the front page. It’s become a family tradition although this year it was just Grandma, Grandpop and the kids.
We ate lunch at the Cattleman’s Grill, a large open air restaurant with oilcloth covered 8 foot tables put together in long rows. Like a big family reunion. Lots of cowboy hats and boots, kids.
After that we wandered the exhibit halls. Gabe and Grandma went to the petting zoo where they got their hands on sheep, goats, pigs while Ruth and I examined the Western Art Show and Sale. Ruth and I liked the show. It had some wonderful sculpture, especially a small stone owl, landscapes done in non-traditional (that is not sentimental) manners, and some excellent paintings of animals, in particular one Brahman bull. He was a distinct individual in this full head portrait.
The Superdogs show either has gotten better since we first saw it or I’ve lowered my standards. This year was fun. These canine athletes, most of them rescue dogs, catch frisbees, do the high jump, run through plastic tunnels at speed, race along raised platforms and have a helluva good time. They are high energy, eager animals.
We’ll be back next year. Who knows what wonders we’ll see?
