Monthly Archives: July 2025

Dogs, Greenhouse, Plants, Seed Keepers, Weather +Climate, Wild Neighbors

She Also Kills

Leave a comment

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Shabbat gratefuls: Nathan. The heater. The fan. The drip irrigation. Tomato plants thriving. Squash and seeds. The Fourth of July. Shadow, chewer of leashes. Render of sheets. My sweet girl. Kate, always. Death. Life. The time between a sleep and a sleep. Rock and Roll. Give me the beat, boys. Tara and Eleanor. Choosing Granite. Kitchens.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Photosynthesis

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei. Feel the One moving in and through my life. Flow with it.

Week Kavannah: Hear on the side of merit

One brief shining: Nathan hung the heater from a greenhouse rafter, cut a hole in the Cedar siding for the fan, ran an extension cord from my outdoor plug and threaded it into the greenhouse interior, set the fan to come on at 90 degrees to exhaust air and the heater at 60 degrees to warm it on cool nights. 65 degrees inside the greenhouse on this 48 degree morning.

 

The Greenhouse: Yes, Nathan came on the afternoon of the Fourth to work. He’s a man of his word and I appreciate it.

The exhaust fan will draw air through the windows and into the greenhouse when the temperature inside it goes above 90 degrees. It hit 104 this week. The heater will come on now in the night if the greenhouse dips below 60 degrees as it did a week ago, going down into the low forties.

This is all to make the Tomato plants glad. As my good friend Rich said, “A six hundred dollar salad.” Even so.

Having another living organism here makes me so happy. The greenhouse fills my heart in the same way Shadow does. I guess that’s my little family now: Shadow, the Plants in Artemis, and me.

Again. Live until I die.

 

Dog journal: The leash saga. I bought a yellow neoprene leash. 10 feet long. Attached it to Shadow’s collar. Not easy. She went into an immediate sulk.

The first night I unclipped it, remembering her chewing up her leash from the Granby shelter. The next day near evening I got it on her again. Left it on that night and, wow, she did not chew it off. We went outside. She peed. Wrapped me in the leash. We came inside over the devil’s threshold.

Left it on her that night, too, as Natalie suggested. Oh. Well. One neoprene leash severed from its clip. I had also purchased a pull tab leash. About 9 inches long they clip to the collar and make putting on a leash easier. Pick up the tab, clip the leash onto its ring.

Never got a chance to use it because I got the original leash I bought for her clipped on using turkey hot dog treats. High value treats.

Left the pull tab on her last night. She chewed it off. I’m not sure, but I think we got past the leash jitters yesterday, so it might not be necessary. Useless now anyhow.

Just a moment: Mother Nature feeds us, keeps us warm, provides material for our homes and the things we put in them.

She also kills people. By Flood and Fire, Tornado and Hurricane, Volcanic Eruption and Earthquake. By extreme Heat and Cold. By Tsunami and Drought. By poisonous Snakes and disease bearing Insects. By Grizzly Bears and Mountain Lions.

 

 

 

Colorado, Memories, Minnesota, Mountains

249 Years

Leave a comment

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

4th of July gratefuls: Cousin Donald. Hyper Masculinity. The Commander’s Cup. Seoah. Murdoch. Songtan. The United (?) States of America. Oklahoma. Indiana. Wisconsin. Minnesota. Colorado. Judy. Raeone. Kate, always. Shadow. Her chewed leash. Work yet to do. Planting. Seat cushion for Ruby. CBE Men’s group. Suffering. Luke. Rebecca. Leo. Tara. Eleanor.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Long time friends

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei. Find the flow of life’s force, follow it

Week Kavannah: Savlanut. Patience.

One brief shining: Walked up the slight rise past the wonderful Ponderosa and the jagged Granite Boulder, pre-schooler rendered chalk drawings on the sidewalk, and pressed the doorbell necessitated by the oldest hatred to join my friends discussing the mussar virtue of self-confidence.

The 4th of July. On the 249th birthday of this country I sit on Shadow Mountain, in purple Mountain majesty above the fruited plains. Somewhere below amber waves of Grain ripple in a morning Breeze.

Meanwhile, faraway in the land of broken toys a mean-spirited tyrant and his too loyal minions prepare concentration camps for immigrants who came here seeking a better life: ICE prepares detention blitz with historic $45 billion in funding.

The Elk Cow and her Calf that crossed the road in front of me Wednesday night do not know this. Their world continues, following a thread of ongoing life rooted millions of years in the past, honed to the ways of Mountain life, to seasonal change, to knowing the ways of predators.

Nor does Shadow know. As we work out our life together, a struggle and a joy for both of us, she too follows a path begun thousands of years ago when friendly Wolves joined human encampments for shelter, food, and joint protection.

How I wish I could be a non-human animal, wild or domesticated. I could live according to the ancient rules of nature. Eat. Reproduce. Play. Rest. Die. Not live according to the cruel rules of human society, the unnatural ways of my often thoughtful, loving, compassionate species.

The Elk do not shun their own, round them up and move them out. Sure, animals may contend over territory for survival, but we humans contend over territory for power and for purposes driven by fear and hatred.

This fourth of July I join many Americans who no longer find great pride in their country. National Pride in the U.S. Sees Dramatic Decline. Or maybe not quite.

The Mountains and the Plains. The fertile fields of the Midwest. The great Boreal Forests. The Atlantic Coast and the Pacific Coast. Redwoods. Sequoias. Bristle Cone Pine. Wolves and Grizzlies. Wolverines and Lynx. Squirrels and Marmots. Fishers and Pine Martens. Rabbits and Chipmunks. All the Wild Neighbors. I take great joy and, yes, pride in living among and with all of these. America the Beautiful.

I also stand with all the humans, all of them, who live here with love, justice, and compassion in their hearts. Who know that the word neighbor has no color, no gender, no religion, no national origin. Who know that the warm and beating heart of this historic experiment in self-governance cannot be stilled by the cold dead hands of those without mercy.

Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Garden, Greenhouse, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant.

Learned Enough?

Leave a comment

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Thursday gratefuls: Shadow. The leash. The last big hurdle. Tomato plants wilting in the heat, then restored by water. Rich. Susan. Tara. Marilyn. Joanne. MVP last night. The quarter Moon. The Elk Cow and her Calf crossing the road. Wild Neighbors. The second law of thermodynamics. Science. The Humanities. Colleges and universities. Learning is life. Loving is life.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Hearing on the side of merit

Week Kavannah: Wu Wei. Flow.

One brief shining: Shadow lies behind my chair, the yellow leash still attached, now in the third day of desensitization; when I take her outside for a walk, part of the process, she jumps up, paws on my chest, then her left one slipping around my waist in a clingy hug.

 

Dog journal: My empathy has often been close to exhaustion, not with Shadow, but because of her struggles. And mine. This relationship has not been easy. Climb one Mountain only to realize the next peak is higher and right next to the one just summited.

Natalie says the leash is the last big hurdle. God, I hope so. I’d like to settle in to a doggy rhythm with Shadow by my side. I know it’s going to happen. Not when.

 

Mental health: No doubt, dear reader, you caught the melancholy tones in my posts over the last six months. As so often happens for me, I only notice them much later than others.

The pain. Also exhausts my empathy, especially my empathy for myself. Avoidance comes to dominate movement. Move less. Hurt less. Though because, as Halle said, we’re meant to move, this tactic has self-defeat built in. Move less, hurt longer eventually more.

With those two drains on my empathy, Shadow’s struggles and the pain, I’ve had little left over to do what needs to be done. That is, manage all this in a healthy way.

Not to say life has been awful. No. But it has been stretched taut, leaving little room for dreams. Though.

The Greenhouse: Was a dream that is now a reality. I forgot, though Shadow should have more than alerted me to this, realizing dreams has its own cost.

This works. That doesn’t. The heat in the greenhouse, the point after all, reached 104 yesterday. I put a remote thermo sensor in it with a readout station in the house.

When I went out to check all of my Tomato Plants had shriveled, looked dead. I hit the manual button for the irrigation. It ran for twelve minutes and the Leaves filled back up. This means I will need a fan to help modulate the heat.

On the other end the temperature went into the low forties two nights ago. Tomatoes prefer night time temperatures in the sixties. Need that heater which I agreed Nathan could install later.

Learning and growth come when we move outside our comfort zones. Yeah. So I’ve heard. Well, I’ve spent plenty of time over the last six months way outside of my comfort zone. I must be learned enough by now.

Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health

It’s a Pain

Leave a comment

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Wednesday gratefuls: Greenhouse. Tomato Plants. Plant labels. Garden twine. Morning darkness. Shadow and the leash. Her anxiety. Her comfort seeking. Death of a beloved. Seeds. Seed Keeper’s Exchange. Heirloom Seeds. The Bird of Morning. Who makes firm a person’s steps. Tanya. Carla. Kenya. Kathy. Leisa. The Steffey women. Harder physical therapy. The Fourth of July.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Patriotism

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei. Follow the chi.

Week Kavannah: Savlanut. Patience.

One brief shining: The yellow neoprene leash disappeared underneath the bed last night and has not yet reappeared this morning though I’ve been up since five and six lies only ten minutes away, meaning my Shadow’s anxiety has not abated overnight.

 

Dog journal: Oh, the not so subtle agony of Shadow and the leash. I got it on her again near the end of the day. When I clipped it on her collar, she froze, then burrowed in between my legs, looking up at me with a familiar doggy expression: “Help me, please.”

Desensitization. I imagine that’s what Natalie has in mind. A phobia treatment where graduated exposure lessens the fear associated with the phobic situation. Natalie loves animals, that’s clear in her demeanor and practice. Not sure whether Shadow’s reaction to the leash fits.

Might be I forced Shadow too much when putting on the leash. Didn’t seem so to me, but Shadow is a delicate, reactive, and smart Dog. She sees bad intentions where none are meant.

This Shadow journey has proved fraught for both of us. Worth it when she finally let herself give and receive affection. Yet the journey has more than one temporary off ramp. Just hit another one.

We will both need savlanut to find the path forward again.

 

The rest of it:

When I wrote this paragraph yesterday, I stopped too soon:

“Or, and I didn’t say this with her, an end to all of it. No, not suicide, not that. Rather successful pain relief in my hip and back. Wanting it. Needing it. Not sure I’ll get it.”

There are times, not often, but more often than I want or desire, when chronic pain crosses paths with a sad or bad mood for other reasons. Sometimes thoughts then go like this. Oh, to hell with eating well, a heart attack would be better than a slow death by cancer. Or. Why do I even go to p.t.? Why not sit, read, watch television, wait for it to be over. Or, I’ll be glad when this life finishes.

This is not active suicidal ideation. No. But it does have in it the seeds of those thoughts. Note this is not about cancer, rather it’s about the slow degradation of life’s quality by either constant pain or knowing that any movement will produce pain.

Pernicious. Unwanted. Undesirable. Yet they occur to me, these thoughts. They disappear when the pain eases. When I right myself with patience, acceptance, persistence and grit. Time with friends and family. Not always easy to do.

Experiencing Shadow and her travails. Yes. Can create this sort of toxic nexus. Why, I think, they’ve been more common since she came. Not because of her, but due to that axis of frustration and resignation.

 

Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase

Shadow and the Psyche

Leave a comment

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Tuesday gratefuls: Shadow. Her leash and harness. Natalie. Maddie. Dark thoughts. Greenhouse. Greenhouse thermometer. Happy Tomato Plants. Garden tools. Organic fertilizer. Seed markers. Twine. Gathering the tools. Learning how to use Artemis, a living part of my property. Living with pain. Thinking of Tanya and her sisters: Cathy, Carla, Kenya.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Tomato Plants growing

Week Kavannah:  Wu Wei.  Seek the way.

One brief shining: Shadow had an hour of leash training, walked with me in the front, stressed at first, calmer later but when back inside and Natalie had gone home, she crawled up in my lap-which she has never done-and would not get down, the leash still attached to her collar as Natalie suggested.

 

Dog journal: The leash. Natalie, whose own dogs had gotten in a tussle, came back after a three week absence. After a lengthy session with little apparent progress we moved inside and she slipped the leash onto Shadow with ease.

We went out the front door, Shadow on her yellow leash with me , and Doc, Natalie’s Border Collie, on his purple one. Terra incognita to Shadow. Cars passing on Black Mountain Drive. New smells, new visits.

Shadow spent time wrapping me in the leash. Circling me until her little body and mine meshed together, Dog and human, with a yellow neoprene bond. This went on for a bit until she got more comfortable, walking, sniffing. Going on what Natalie calls a sniffary. A word from dog training circles.

Natalie wanted me to leave the leash on Shadow 24/7. While inside on her collar, while outside attached to her harness and to me. I agreed.

But. When Shadow slid under the bed for the night yellow neoprene following her, I remembered her first leash. Which she chewed up while under the bed. Oh.

I unclipped the leash. She came up on the bed to greet me this morning as usual. I’ll have to get the leash back on her over the course of the day. Not easy. Gonna have to communicate with Natalie.

 

Maddie, the palliative care nurse: She’s a sweetheart, enjoying the drive up here from her base in faraway Westminster. Not sure how she’ll like that drive come winter.

We talked medical. My recent MRI. My trip to Panorama Orthopedics. She suggested a seat cushion for the car. Will try that. She pressed me about other symptoms.

I admitted to weariness. Chronic pain. Handling medical and domestic logistics. Cancer always hanging there, sometimes foreground, usually background but never gone. Wanting simpler, easier.

Or, and I didn’t say this with her, an end to all of it. No, not suicide, not that. Rather successful pain relief in my hip and back. Wanting it. Needing it. Not sure I’ll get it.

“I guess I’m feeling down, Maddie.” We discussed what to do. Up my sertraline dose? Counseling? Agreed to talk to Susan. Who prescribed a new anti-depressant. I don’t recall its name. We’ll see. A trial until I see Susan again on August 6th.