Monthly Archives: November 2022

Mountains, Park County, Politics, Shadow Mountain, Sport, The West

Beauty Nearby

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Samain and the Holimonth Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Snow. Cold. No pee on the rug. Kep, my official nudger. Osher Lifelong Learning. Herme. The Hermitage. Warm for the Winter. Dr. Astrov. A Chekhovian humanist. National Forests. Arapaho. Pike. Chippewa. Grand Mesa. Rio Grande. Superior. Mauna Loa. Erupting. Hawai’i Volcanoes National Park. Haleakala. Mt. Etna. Black Mountain. Bear Creek. Cub Creek. That six point Mule Deer Buck. Rabbit tracks in the Snow. Phonak.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Mauna Loa

 

Colorado Cold. 10 degrees. Sparkling white Snow. The Snowpack. Lagging a bit here but good in the Colorado River Basin. An old fashioned Winter shaping up for Shadow Mountain.

 

Over to the Happy Camper yesterday after working out. The lady at the cash register surprised me by saying after I gave her my birthday. That was my husband’s, too. I missed a chance to make a solid connection with her. Too focused on my purchase. Another 8 packs of Indica Cheeba Chews. Edibles. A word that has morphed its meaning over the last ten years.

The drive to Bailey featured a Snow capped Continental Divide and Mt. Blue Sky (formerly Mt. Evans). Always a beautiful drive. If you drive beyond the Happy Camper into Bailey, you come to the 7% grade known as Crow Hill. It levels out into the Platte Valley where the small town of Bailey begins.

The Platte Valley has steep Mountains on both sides and a roiling North Fork of the South Platte River. This is Park County, no longer Jefferson in which I live. Bailey is the only town with a downtown in the Valley and it’s a modest one. Shawnee and Grant have names, but no there there.

As Hwy 285 rises toward Kenosha Pass, the 11,000 foot pass separating the Platte Valley from South Park, the Valley ends. About half way up this incline is Park County 61 which leads to Burning Bear Creek Trail and a beautiful camping area in the Pike National Forest. I posted pictures of a large Beaver dam and Beaver felled Trees earlier this summer.

I write this to illustrate how much beauty there is within an hour or less of Shadow Mountain. Including Shadow Mountain, Black Mountain, Conifer Mountain. The drive down to Evergreen on Black Mountain/Brook Forest Drive.

 

Gee, guys. Headline in the New York Times: Jewish Allies Call Trump’s Dinner With Antisemites a Breaking Point. You think?

 

Today at 2pm MT the US Men’s soccer team plays Iran. And it’s a must win for the US if they hope to advance.

 

 

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Judaism, Politics, Shadow Mountain, US History

Unwinding my pessimism

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Samain and the Holimonth Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Gabe. Jon, a memory. Kate, always Kate. Ruth. Jen. Kep, the one who gets me up. Alan and  Tom. The changing Moon. The constant Sun. Black Mountain, my stolid friend. Steady. Maxwell Creek, mover of Mountains. Orion’s return. Artemis I. The Land Institute. The Sanctuary. Democrats. Republicans. Independents. USA. Soccer. The World Cup. Formula 1. Book: Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Poem: The Second Coming. Movie: The original Invasion of the Body Snatchers

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Road trip to Colorado Springs

 

Up a bit late yesterday. Thanksgiving was fun, but it wore me out. Even with my thyroid hormone back to normal I still have no testosterone and chemo. And, I suppose, I’m 75, too. As things are.

Talked to Tom at 8 am. Afterward I worked out, getting my minutes in for the week. 166 after yesterday. 150 is my minimum and I hit it every week unless something dramatic intervenes. Makes me feel good in the moment and later about self-care.

Lunch with Alan. He and Cheri have decided to move into Denver. A neighbor’s house burned down in August. Had the previous owner not been diligent about fire mitigation there’s would have gone down with it. The final piece of evidence Cheri needed to push forward. She’s convinced folks who live up here, like me, will not be able to insure our houses in five years. She’s a bright woman who worked in insurance. Good thing I’m outta here before that. Not really sure I believe it anyhow.

Back home. Wrapped up that Bose Wavesystem 4 I bought off Amazon, a real deal, and shipped it back. The damned thing either wouldn’t play a CD or wouldn’t load them. It did display READING DISC well though. Back to the internet to find something to play my CD’s. I know it’s ancient technology and now long superseded by blue tooth, but I like my collection. And, yes, I have a good blue tooth speaker for my phone and laptop to use. Just stubborn, I guess.

Afterward I joined millions in the U.S. for a black Friday tradition. No, not that one. I ate leftovers. Had a chunk of tenderloin and a good deal of a relish tray brought by Jen and Barb. When you live alone you can eat odd meals like that and no one’s there to comment on it.

Enjoying Wednesday, a limited series on Netflix. I liked the Addams family when it was on many years ago and I’ve enjoyed many of Tim Burton’s films. Jenna Ortega, new to me but not to tween Disney fans, has a wonderful sardonic presence leavened with caring. Tough acting. Said the now two acting classes experienced very amateur actor.

 

In other news, this disturbing story. At Protests, Guns Are Doing the Talking: Armed Americans, often pushing a right-wing agenda, are increasingly using open-carry laws to intimidate opponents and shut down debate. NYT today

Had not thought about this. It’s a logical extension of the fetishization of guns and the 2nd amendment. Not sure whether there’s a legal argument against it. A chilling effect on free speech should have some weight as should some domestic terrorism laws. Shouldn’t they?

Hate to say it but there may need to be a martyr or two before this issue becomes heated enough for some political action.

After some thought last week (see my posts about Ezra Klein and Pippa Norris) and after Tom introduced me to the Chrysalis Effect by Phillip Slater, I’ve begun to unwind my pessimism about the future. Yes, even in light of this story and in some ways because of it. I now believe this is a transient phenomenon, this right wing, armed fear. The transient period may be long, perhaps decades, but we will age out of it and into a world dominated by Gen Z, Ruth and Gabe’s generation. They have more vision and compassion than exists in our current political climate.

That caveat? That the norms of our democracy might be destroyed before this transition can take place. Alleviated by the mid-terms. Not resolved, no. But lessened. We can still take a punch.

 

 

 

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Hermitage, Holidays, Judaism, Shadow Mountain

Thanksgiving

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Samain and the Holimonth Moon

Friday gratefuls: Tom. Mary Jane. Jen. Barb. Gabe. Ruth. Green bean casserole. Sweet potatoes and marshmallows. Tenderloin. Sugar cream pie. Thanksgiving. A gathering of the grateful. The Ancient Brothers. Books: 1001 Arabian Nights. Poems: Notes Toward a Supreme Fiction. Movies: Spirited Away. My sustaining friend, Shadow Mountain. Alan. The Warrior Nun. The new P.E.T. scan. Urology Associates. Prostate cancer care.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Kep. Or. he who sleeps most.

 

Up early (5 am) to get Thanksgiving underway. As in many households across the land. First thing I did? Build a fire. I rarely have a fire but it made the day feel like a holiday. Right away. With those fast burning chunks of pine afire I fed Kep and right afterward made a sugar cream pie. Though. As I recalled during my nap. Oops. Forgot the butter and the nutmeg. I added both back in, but later than the recipe calls for. Turned out ok. Sort of.

At noon I got the tenderloin out of the refrigerator. Warming up for the skillet at 2 pm and the oven right after. All in my cast iron pan. Which I love. Jen, Barb, and Gabe came right at 2 with a pumpkin pie, green bean casserole-the traditional kind with canned onion rings-be still my Midwest culinary heart, sweet potatoes with marshmallows, salad, a relish tray, and a box of candy cane coated chocolate. A good feed was had by all.

We ate in the new dining room, aka The Sewing Room. I mentioned as we began the three empty chairs: Kate, Jon, Ruth. Sadness. But the true nature of family. As one generation hits high school, the other finds the hospital and the funeral home. Gabe’s gotten taller, more lean. Jen’s now working for the school district as a systems support person, one of four for the whole Aurora district. Gabe’s a freshman at Northfield High School where Ruth is now a junior. Barb’s still living in the same senior living building where she’s been for almost ten years albeit in a smaller apartment.

We had a good conversation over the meal.

When we finished, we retired to the common room where I got the fire going again. Jen called Ruth. We spoke to her over speaker. She sounded good. I said we missed her and loved her.

They left around 6:15 and I cleaned up. A quick process with the dishwasher. Settled into rest after a long day.

Hope each of you who read this had a wonderful and warm Thanksgiving.

Health

A Twilight Thought. Wednesday.

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Samain and the Decided Moon

 

I did it. Went right through that P.E.T. scan with no grandpop’s little helper. Proud of myself. The machine made it easier, but not a cinch. The good news was that I could see behind me and in front of me just a bit. A sure avenue of escape. That was all it took to calm my worried mind. Not worried about cancer but of walls closing in, heat taking me, unable to figure a way out. First time I’ve confronted my claustrophobia successfully. At 75. Still.

This new scan is 500 times clearer than the axumin scan according to the imaging tech. Thank god they don’t bill by increase in resolution.

I drove back through Deer Creek Canyon to remind myself of the Consolation of Deer Creek Canyon. When Dr. Eigner confirmed my diagnosis in May of 2015, I made the same drive and found the age and majesty of the Mountains helped me gain perspective. Put my Mayfly life up against those other beings who travel this World’s path, too.

The scan was on the campus of Sky Ridge Hospital where I had my prostatectomy in July of 2015. That was a left turn on Ridgeway Drive. A right turn on Ridgeway drive takes to you to Anova Cancer Care, the place where I had my 35 sessions of radiation back in 2019. A lot of memories. My cancer spot in Colorado.

Feels like a journey of a thousand miles. Where am I on that journey? No idea. One scan. One pill. One appointment at a time. No other way, really.

 

 

General

When will we ever learn?

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Samain and the Decided Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Prostate cancer. P.E.T. Scans. Water up, dude. Dry brining the tenderloin roast. Thanksgiving. Kep. Fingerless gloves. Ruth in Colorado Springs. The Walmart shooting victims. The Walmart shooter. Creativity. Cool Nights. Reading. The Glass Bead Game. Movies. Seventh Seal. Poems. The Road Not Taken. Velveeta hair and clown tie. Jared Polis. Pete Buttegieg. Elizabeth Warren. Ukraine. All my friends and family.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: P.E.T. Scan

 

Yes. Today I have a P.E.T. scan. A special sort, like the axumin. Special in two ways. First, it will decide definitively whether I have bony metastases. Second, it will cost me over $1,100. My 20% share of the tracer plus a co-pay. I’m going into it with no sedative. It’s an open-sided machine and my head will only be enclosed for a brief period of time. I should be ok. Comfortable clothes, no metal. Worth the money to avoid general anesthetic. Though I didn’t have a choice. Have to drink lots of water.

Feeling a bit stressed. Thanksgiving. Claustrophobia. Cancer. But just a bit. The worst stress of the three is Thanksgiving. I don’t entertain very much. I want the tenderloin roast to come out well. My pie, too. This is a first try at the new family constellation after Jon’s death, too. Claustrophobia is a buzz kill in so many ways. But I can manage it for brief periods of time. Cancer. Well. To paraphrase my friend Judy, “This beast may kill me, but not today.”

 

Another session with Robin. Cleared the table for Thanksgiving in Kate’s old sewing room. Moved photographs out of that room. Got rid of a lot of boxes, trash. Which I took out to the road today for Shirley Waste Removal. This was the last session with her until the first of the year. She’s taking December off to be with family and see a bathroom remodel through. Going to go through the whole house with her. Making progress. Feels good. Winnowing. Pruning.

Got back the second bid for painting today. Surprising. It’s a thousand dollars less than the first one. And from Greg Lell. Whom I want to use anyhow. Doug has not called yet with his bid. I won’t decide until Marty comes and helps me choose paint colors. I may have her help me in positioning furniture, too.

 

Walmart employee kills 6. Chesapeake, Va. Walmart sells guns. I’m choosing to think right now that we’ll find our way out of this whole mess. Why? Not sure. A new feeling since the elections. Maybe it’s the chrysalis effect talked about by Phillip Slater. Thanks, Tom, for the book. More on this later.

 

 

 

Colorado, Cooking, Health, Hermitage, Politics, Shadow Mountain, The West, US History

When will we ever learn?

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Samain and the Decided Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Tony’s. That tenderloin roast. Salad. Oh and that sugar cream pie. Diane’s family recipe. King Soopers. The bank. Cash money. In the pocket. Robin. Wrangling my space. Painters. Chilly nights. The mid-terms. Soil. Plants. Rock. Air. Water. Fire. Stars. Artemis I. Exploration. NASA. JPL. The days of our lives. Books. Richard Powers. CJ Box. Immodium. China. Hawai’i. Minnesota. Club Q. Pulse.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Good sleep

 

Colorado Springs. A conservative town. Where hate is fed by so called family values evangelicals. By years of GOP candidates who fed hate into the political blood stream of the city. By the US historical hatred of difference: race, gender, sexual preference.

The West was won. Sure. By killing the folks who didn’t look like the “pioneers.” And, oh yeah, the West is the original gun culture. Side arms and Remington rifles. No gun control at the OK corral. Or in Tombstone or Deadwood. I happened to be in Denver in 2012 when James Holmes went to an Aurora Theater and killed 12 people watching a late showing of a Batman movie.

An irony. The day after the Club Q shooting in Colorado Springs Colorado officially renamed Mt. Evans, Mt. Blue Sky. Why? Because Governor John Evans created the circumstances that led to the Sand Creek Massacre, a critical negative juncture in relations between First Nations peoples and the U.S. government.*

We can treat the Club Q shooting as an expression of Western values, Christian evangelical values, Republican values. As an expression of the perverted, fetishistic worship of the 2nd amendment. As an extension of the pandemic of gun violence which now features four more mass shootings since Club Q: Illinois, Mississippi, Oklahoma, Texas. 600 before Club Q in 2022. (gunviolence.org) 39,567 people have died THIS year due to some form of gun violence.

Sadly. When will we ever learn?

 

Yesterday was a busy day. After writing Ancientrails, I waited on Greg Lell to come. He’s going to be my third bid for painting the upstairs. Greg’s guy stained the house a year ago. If his bid is close to the others, I’ll take it since he proved what he can do. He told me 25% of his business comes from showing up when other painting contractors don’t. That’s the Mountains.

Worked out. Over to the bank to deposit checks, including one from Heatflo covering the cost of my dead water heater. Bought two bundles of firewood for Thanksgiving. Then over to Tony’s to see if I could get my tenderloin roast early. Yes. I could. They tied it up for me, too. I plan to dry brine it this afternoon. Made an experimental sugar cream pie. Pie crust, a deep dish, was too much otherwise. Tasty. While making sure the pie was edible for my Thanksgiving guests, I seem to have upset my digestive tract. Oh, my.

 

*On November 29, 1864, roughly 700 federal troops attacked a village of 500 Cheyenne and Arapaho on Sand Creek in Colorado. An unprovoked attack on men, women, and children, the massacre at Sand Creek marked a turning point in the relationship between American Indian tribes and the Federal Government. From the day of the attack, US Army actions at Sand Creek have been controversial, because the Cheyenne and Arapaho thought they were at peace with the government and innocent people died. The distrust that grew from what occurred at Sand Creek led to later conflicts at Little Big Horn…” NPS

 

“Colorado Governor John Evans warns that all peaceful Native Americans in the region must report to the Sand Creek reservation or risk being attacked, creating the conditions that will lead to the Sand Creek Massacre.

Evans’ offer of sanctuary was at best halfhearted. His primary goal in 1864 was to eliminate all Native American activity in eastern Colorado Territory, an accomplishment he hoped would increase his popularity and eventually win him a U.S. Senate seat. Immediately after ordering the local Native Americans to the reservation, Evans issued a second proclamation that invited white settlers to indiscriminately “kill and destroy all…hostile Indians.” At the same time, Evans began creating a temporary 100-day militia force to wage war on the Native Americans. He placed the new regiment under the command of Colonel John Chivington, another ambitious man who hoped to gain high political office by fighting Native Americans.”  History

Commentary on the news, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Hawai'i, Hermitage, Judaism, Mountains, Politics, Shadow Mountain, US History, Weather +Climate

Populists and Authoritarians

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Samain and the Decided Moon

Friday gratefuls: Stevenson Toyota. Blizzaks. Gripping the Snow. Ruby oiled, new boots, tires aligned. A sweet ride. Took her in at exactly 39,000 miles. Could use a good scrub though. Inside and out. The Mountains this morning. Trees with Frost up and down Black Mountain, Conifer Mountain. The Sun shrouded by Clouds. Shadow Mountain Drive snaking its icy way to Hwy. 73. Jackie. Chance. Kristie. Diane and Tom. Me. The Lodgepoles and Aspens.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: My good friend Kep

 

How do I feel? Joyful. How do I feel? Glad. How do I feel? Amazed. How do I feel? Stressed. How do I feel? Grateful. Leaving Shadow Mountain at 7:30 am the Mountains sparkled in filtered Sunlight. Like driving in a Christmas card. Could have seen a sleigh pulled by horses, jingling all the way. 16 degrees. Snow on the Ground. The Trees decorated on each Branch and Twig, Pine Needle and Trunk. I smiled and would have clapped my hands except you know driving.

Further down the hill the Clouds gave way to Colorado blue Sky and the Hogsback, the front edge of the Front Range, was white with last night’s Snow. Beautiful. What a beautiful, delightful place to live. Glad I’m staying. Both going down and coming back up the hill in the morning I had the good luck to follow snow plows. No dangers at 20 mph.

Handed Ruby off to Chance a Toyota advisor, got a ride to Enterprise rental and picked up a Corolla so I could come home, attend my creativity class and workout. Which I did.

After a lunch of Corn salad, Honeycrisp Apples with Peanut butter and Camembert cheese, I hopped in the Corolla and drove back down the Mountain to collect Ruby. Oiled, aligned, winter boots. Vitals checked. She’s in good health.

Drove back up the hill to Aspen Park where Jackie cut my hair and trimmed my beard. She’s such a sweetie. Ronda, too. The conversation in Aspen Roots focused on preparations for Thanksgiving. Jackie’s doing two Turkeys! 22-24 people. Whoa. We talked about things as we always do. After talking about family a bit, Jackie said, Oh, yeah. Family. The other F word. That cracked me up. So often true.

Back here on Shadow Mountain I fed Kep and came downstairs to write this.

 

Still drifting politically. Got the book Cultural Backlash in the mail yesterday. Pippa Norris and Ronald Ingelhart. I mentioned it a few days back. Pippa was on the Ezra Klein podcast last week. Got as far as definitions of populism and authoritarianism. Really odd how they so often rise up together, yet directly contradict each other. Populists want each one of the real people to have a voice, to be in control. Authoritarians want to provide security to the real people. The price? Their voice, their impact on government.

 

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.