Monthly Archives: September 2025

Ancient Brothers, Cinema and Television, Friends, Mountains, Park County, The West, Wild Neighbors

Finding the Beaver Dam

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Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: Tom. Three Victorias. Their deluxe burrito and their sopa de albondigas, or meatball soup. Beavers. The MIT mascot. Their Pond up Park County Rd. #60. Burning Bear Creek Trail.  North Fork of the South Platte River. Golden Aspen. Small Beaver dams. A really big Beaver dam. Colorado back country on the way to Kenosha Pass and South Park.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Beavers

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Yirah. Awe and reverence. The days of Awe, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.

Tarot: Seven of Wands, reversed (Druid Craft) “It may be time to seek support from others or connect with your community instead of going it alone.”   Gemini

One brief shining: Tom’s rental, a fire engine red Buick SUV, signaled each dip and ridge in Park Country Road #60 as he drove us through Hall Valley alongside the fast running North Fork of the South Platte River while I looked for the Beaver felled Aspen stumps that would show me when to look for the Beaver pond turnoff. Saw them.

 

Tom’s visit: Psst, buddy! Wanna see a really big Beaver dam? Tom and I had finished our breakfast at Primo’s, trying to decide what we might do next. He liked the idea of seeing the Beaver dam, about forty minutes further along Hwy 285 on the way to Fairplay.

We drove through Bailey commenting on the Sasquatch Center we had visited the last time we ate at the nearby Cutthroat Cafe. I mentioned again the faux pas I made there. I’d asked the guy at the counter if anyone believed this stuff. An hour and several blurry jpeg’s later I had my answer.

The Platter River Canyon, carved out by the North Fork of the South Platte, has broad meadows and tourist cabins, an Orvis Approved Dude Ranch, and the Santa Maria YMCA camp. Near Grant is the Shaggy Sheep restaurant where I’ve often eaten. Beyond Grant a few miles is Park County #60.

A while back I wanted to hike the Burning Bear Creek Trail, as much for its name as the trail description. I missed the trail head but kept driving because Hall Valley had beautiful stands of Aspen and Lodgepoles, the North Fork of the South Platte, and a view of a Mountain Range in the distance.

A good ways in I began to notice the stumps of Aspens with the slanted, tufted sign of Beavers at work. At a nearby parking lot I turned in and saw the largest Beaver dam I’d ever seen. Guess it had to be big because the North Fork runs strong.

Tom and I stopped there, too. Finding smaller dams along the way, Beaver water roads, and stands of dead Lodgepole drowned by the expansion of the Pond.

 

Just a moment: If you haven’t seen Comedy Central’s Daily Show in a while I highly recommend season 30’s episode 102, aired on September 18, 2025. In it Jon Stewart and cast skewer the cancel culture promoted by red tie guy, aka The Burger King. I paid $.77 to watch it. Best entertainment spend in a while.

Ancient Brothers, Health, Politics, Seed Keepers, US History

A Paper Crown Burger King

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Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Friday gratefuls: Tom. His visits. Our friendship. Indivisible. Scott in Minnesota. Paul in Maine. Standing up to the tyrant and his Zombie Mean Guys. Jimmy Kimmel. Comedy. Comedians. Concentration camps. Alligator Alcatraz. Shadow, her patience last night and this morning. Artemis. Her Kale. The Cucumbers. The Tomatoes. The Carrots, Spinach, and Beets. Salads. Well, maybe two salads.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Old, deep friendships

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Derech Eretz. The way of the land

Tarot: King of Swords, (Druid Craft)  “The King of Swords upright signifies intellectual power, authority, and clear-headed judgment, rooted in strong ethics and a connection to nature.” Gemini

One brief shining: The No Kings mobilization on October 18 gathers Seed-Keepers across the country-Ginny and Janice at the Genesee Overpass, Scott in Minneapolis, Paul and Sarah in Maine-millions over against the rise of the zombie mean guys and their tyrant don who’s really just a Burger King with a paper hat from a fast food restaurant.

 

Just a moment: I’m feeling the power begin to percolate upward, the No Kings’ map available on their website has those early days of the anti-Vietnam protests vibe.

Checked out where it began. Oddly, it looks like Boulder and a guy named Carlos Álvarez-Aranyos who founded a group there called American Opposition. If you look at the partners page on the No Kings website, you’ll see it’s grown way, way past that initial effort. Other notable groups involved are Indivisible, Moveon, and 50501.

October 18th, the next mass gathering across the country, will be, I imagine, massive. As these will need to be, so the longer term work of rooting out the rotten core of movement conservatives now engaged in shredding our derech eretz, the way of our land, and attempting to replace it with medieval authoritarian governance that brooks no difference and no opposition, can flourish.

The 18th is two days after my last ablation. I hope I feel good enough to head over to the Genesee Overpass for our local event straddling I-70. Ginny and Janice went the last time. If you can join the event in your area, you would add one more body to what must become a pyroclastic cleansing of the Donald’s illusion that this is his country. Nope. It’s ours, too.

 

Tom’s visit: Breakfast. Conversation. Nap. Dinner. Conversation. Sleep. Old guys, old friends. Together. Again. Still.

Health:  Some thoughts on cancer. Cancer does not change the journey. That is, the journey from birth through life to death. It only illuminates a possible game ender if, as Kristie said, the disease runs its course. Could be something else. A car accident. A fall. Heart attack. Stroke. In that significant sense cancer has no more valence in anyone’s life, including mine, than any of the numerous ways we can, as my father use to say, shuffle off this mortal coil. Not sure he knew he was quoting Hamlet. Probably did.

This goes along with another observation that nothing can be finally determined as either bad or good. The ripples, the tendrils snaking out from any one particular event require seeing it not only as it seems in the moment, but how it impacts contiguous and/or future events.

Sure, the second election of Donald Trump was a disaster, a catastrophe for our republic and a focused blow to our democracy. However, his reign as a paper crown Burger King will clarify for his opposition what America means. What’s worth fighting for. It will cause other nations to form new alliances, become stronger than they were when the U.S. was world hegemon. It may even disclose ways in which we need to restructure, rethink our government.

He may be a disruptor and a weasel, but he. does. not. control. us.

 

Far Right, Health, Politics, White Supremacy

Rise of the Zombie Mean Guys

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Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Tom. Here. (I think.) Ruth and her chemistry test. Gabe and Gabe knowledge. Maddie. Palliative care. Shadow and her toys. Aggressive chewers. Artemis and her children, headed for a coming frost. The attempt to ignore the first amendment. A world changing so, so fast. Labrum tears and steroid injections. Back pain relief coming in October. Golden Leaves among the green. A Mountain Fall.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shadow’s head on my pillow

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Derech Eretz. The way of the land.    “A natural, moral order that exists independent of formal Torah law. This is reflected in the saying, “Derech Eretz preceded the Torah,” and speaks to the innate decency that human beings should possess.”

Tarot: #4, The Lord, reversed. (Druid Craft)

Abuse of authority
This card can signal that someone is abusing their power, whether that’s you or another person. The positive, protective authority of the upright Lord has become a negative, domineering, or overly critical force. This person may be a tyrant rather than a strong leader.
 
 

One brief shining: The reversed Lord read the newspaper this morning, the suppression of free speech by censoring Jimmy Kimmel, the cancellation of Stephen Colbert’s show, the promises to “take down” liberal organizations like the Ford Foundation and the George Soros Open Societies Foundation; he’s signaling the Rubicon of tyranny crossed with deliberate, feral intent. 

Health: Maddie, my palliative care nurse, drove up from Westminster yesterday. I like that at least every other visit with her is in person in my home. Like Dr. Josy, the in home vet. Ha.
 
She’s a sweet person. A Hoosier from da region, that cluster of hard blue collar cities and steel mills tucked up in the extreme northwest corner of the state. When I recounted sister Mary’s line: “Living in Indiana is like living in the Deep South without the benefit of a warmer climate,” she laughed and said, “Oh, that’s so true!”
 

Maddie believes I’ll get good relief from my nerve ablations and the Butrans patch. May it be so.

 

Just a moment: A chill. No, a near absolute zero blast went down my spine when I read about Jimmy Kimmel pulled off the air indefinitely. Talk about unamerican. Roger Cohen and Joseph McCarthy and Father Coughlin have risen from their graves. Ain’t no grave that can keep their vile opinions down.

 

Rise of the Zombie mean guys. Only this time, this second coming of nativist, white supremacist vitriol has the power of a “unitary” President, a self-castrated Congress, and a toadying  Supreme Court. How will we ever climb out of this well of despond?

 

A serious question. First, by not forgetting who we are and who we can still be. Seed-keepers who hold the promise of a welcoming, caring nation. Second, by taking those actions that we can to stand up, right now. To make as clear as possible that this is our country, too. That we will not capitulate, will not bow down in anticipatory obeisance.
Far Right, Politics, Sport, White Supremacy

After the last immigrant has left the country

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Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Tom. Rascal. Paul. Findlay. Morning darkness. Cold morning. 36. Hail protection on Artemis. Shadow and her new puzzle. Her morning kisses. Maddie, coming today. Carol yesterday. The Sloan-Kettering trial. The killed comforter. Lashon hara. Words matter. Nerve ablation next month. P.E.T. scan. The never ending thrills.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Maddie

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Derech Eretz. The way of the land, the essential human decency that came before Torah.

Tarot: Five of cups, reversed. (Druid Craft)

  • Finding opportunity in setbacks: You are starting to see the value in what you have learned from a painful experience.
  • Open to help: You may now be more willing to accept help from others.

One brief shining: Learning the lesson of accepting help, hard for this head-down, push forward in spite of guy, leaning on the kindness of friends for rides to procedures, appointments does not come without cost and does not come without reward, a cost in changed self-image, the reward understanding it needed to change.

 

Sport: Ohani. A baseball player for the ages. Our Babe Ruth. This Japanese pitcher, yes, that’s right pitcher, just hit 50 home runs in consecutive seasons. He hit number 50 last night against the Philadelphia Phillies. Whadda guy.

Though I’ve never taken to baseball the way my nerdy, statistics oriented son did, I’ll admit in this year, this particular year, a sport in which violence does not feature, in which all team members contribute, one where fans sing songs during the seventh inning stretch, and a sport, like basketball, home grown and oh so American appeals to my need for something of this country that makes me smile.

Just a moment: The Wrath of the already Wrathful. I fear we’ve entered a new, even darker phase of this already far too long presidency. Retribution. Vengeance. Punishment. We may as well have a dominatrix as our leader, one who sees the rest of us as masochists who delight in pain, grin at affliction.

As my friend Paul observed, protesting may carry a new risk. A president and Justice Department and an FBI without a moral compass. No longer constrained by such delicacies as the Bill of Rights, such niceties as habeas corpus. No longer held in check by the courts. Buttressed at times by the National Guard and the U.S. military.

Concentration camps: “Based on internal agency documents, overall detention capacity is projected to increase significantly. One document from July 2025 reported plans to add 10,312 beds through no-bid contracts alone. This was part of an effort to increase overall capacity to at least 100,000 beds” Gemini on beds for immigrant detainees to be added by building new facilities, opening shuttered prisons, and adding capacity like the tents for up 5,000 at Ft. Bliss (get the irony here?)

Here’s my question. Once the last immigrant has been detained and the last flight for South Sudan or Venezuela or Ghana has left the ground who will fill up those freshly empty beds?

Given the state of play after Charlie Kirk’s assassination? Any who deviate. From the good, the true, and the proper. As defined by angry, bitter people who see mercy and justice as weakness. Lordy, lordy.

Far Right, Memories, Politics, US History

For a Trump Sick Soul

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Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Shadow, her downward dog.  Diane in Indiana. Seeing Judy, Marilyn and Irv’s friend. My son. His work. Seoah. Murdoch. Dog treats. Liberals. Under siege. The Ford Foundation. George Soros. Hungary. Italy. France. Germany. The Netherlands. Great Britain. Denmark. Norway. Sweden. Finland. Spain. Austria.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Friends

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Derech Eretz. The way of the Land.

Tarot: Seven of Pentacles, (Druid Craft)

One brief shining: Body creaky, aching at the joints, meds of little help, so very tired of this, not being able to bend over, finish tasks; yet, I watched a movie yesterday afternoon: Deaf President Now-Apple TV-and the power, the real and always power of folks shunted aside was so beautiful, so moving, I cried remembering my days of awe at the confidence and bravery of ordinary people.

 

Days of Yesteryear: Denim jacket on, hair beginning to get long, my ever present Pall Mall in my hand, jeans and workboots, green book bag slung over my shoulder. The microphone. Hell, no, we won’t go. Fists in the air. Electricity on campus. Hundreds, then thousands. Against the war. Against in loco parentis. For student power. As those Gallaudet students found when confronted with the choice of yet another hearing president.

Those were the days my friend. I thought they’d never end. But, they did. With the ominous prescience of National Guard Troops firing live bullets into an anti-war protest. With the Moral Majority and the immoral president, Richard Nixon. The rise of Movement Conservatives. A gradual gathering of grievance and indifference to derech heretz, the basic decency expected of all people.

As the conservatives gradually slowly, thanks Lee Atwater, Karl Rove, Newt Gingrich, the New Apostolic Reformation, National Conservatism, became a tide, a tsunami of hate and bitter feeling. As this once powerful nation began to insist on pulling back from the world, declaring National narcissism as our raison d’etrê. As a nation began to split itself apart, dragging the poor, the immigrant, the disabled, the unhealthy, persons of color and LGBTQ+ persuasions across a sharp bed of nails- oligarchic indifference.

That world. Then. Gone. A distant memory of hope and justice. Subducted under a tectonic plate of fear and repressed anger with guns and Gadsen flags flying.

So often. Can we last four years of this? Among Jews. Is it time to go? But, where? Sadness and confusion among those I love. Glad in that strange way Mary and Mark, my son and Seoah live faraway. It is a sad time to be an American.

 

Friends: Breakfast with Marilyn and Irv. Their friend from Massachusetts. The joy. The here and now healing of laughter. Shared exasperation. Shared dreams and acknowledged fears. Over a Salmon blt, two drag it through the garden omelets, and a flatbread with cheese and pepperoni.  At Primo’s in Kings Valley.

When I left, I felt buoyed up by conversation. By seeing and being seen. By hearing and being heard. The balm of Gilead for a Trump sick soul.

Aging, Feelings, Fourth Phase

My life. Now.

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Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Monday gratefuls: Mark in Hafar again. Writing with his students. Shadow, bone lover. Rabbi Jamie. CBE. Evergreen High School. Marilyn and Irv. Artemis. Her children. Hello darkness, my old friend. Mystery. Awe. Sacred. Divine. Everyday life. The Shadow Docket. The Fed. Red Tie Guy. Our poor benighted nation.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Cooling temperatures

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Derech Eretz. The way of the land

Tarot: Seven of Pentacles, (Druid Craft)

  • Patience and perseverance: While you may not see the final results yet, the card affirms that your consistent effort will pay off. 
  • Harvest and reward: The card signals that a significant, long-term reward is coming. 

One brief shining: A Druid in a green cloak takes his golden sickle to harvest mistletoe from a standing oak, embracing the mistletoe, green even in winter, as evidence of eternal life, dropping it on a white cloth below the tree before offering it up in rituals for healing, fertility, and protection.

 

Life review: Constant, chronic pain and carrying my own personal assassin push life review into bleak moments. When bending over or playing too hard with Shadow or standing too long cooking, or when an intense hot flash brings nausea with it, pain or the side effect from medications make me pause. Is this the day, the moment, when life goes into full decline?

What follows. A quick look back. If this is an inflection point, what have I done? What could (sometimes should) I do with the time I have left?

These are common questions for those of us in our late seventies and eighties. I’m telling you what brings them up for me. Of late I’ve wondered if I’m doing enough (of what?) right now. Is there work that could/should fill those empty afternoon hours?

Mornings start around 4:30 to 5:00 for Shadow and me. We do some training. She goes outside. I write Ancientrails which takes around two hours with illustrations and revisions. Sometimes I finish before I feed Shadow at 6:30, sometimes not.

Because dogs (and me) like routine, I stop at 6:30, scoop three half cups of Natural Balance Lamb and Brown Rice into her bowl, then sit down and feed it to her by hand, a practice recommended by Natalie. After that, my pre-workout routine, then a half an hour to forty-five minutes of cardio and resistance.

Around 8 am four days a week I have zoom conversations. After those, I may have a doctor’s appointment, lunch with a friend. On Friday mornings, most times, Alan or Alan and Joanne. Breakfast.

Some weeks Tara comes with Eleanor, or Ginny and Janice with Annie and Luna. Thursday at one is mussar, either zoom or in person. Shabbat mornings, often Bagel Table to study Torah or the Morning Service.

I spend some time each day with Artemis, checking on Kale, Spinach, Beets, Carrots, Nasturtiums, and Tomatoes. At least twice a day I go outside and play with Shadow.

The rest? The news. NYT. Washington Post. Substacks. Heather Cox Richardson. The Atlantic. Reading, both serious and not. Some TV. Perhaps a movie. Food preparation, too.

As I wrote this, realizing I have full mornings, other times during the week with friends, with study both in groups and in private, with the routines of self care, my life feels full.

My looks back tend to be brief. First, I know I can’t change the past. Second, I long ago decided my life has had plenty of oomph. I was able to work always within my principles and values. I had concrete accomplishments. Raised a son. Loved three women enough to marry them. A couple of others, too. Worked on my damaged psyche well enough to point myself forward.

So. Enough. Enough. Daiyenu.

 

Ancient Brothers, Far Right, Men, Politics, US History

The Lost Boys

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Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Jamie. Ty. Irv. Jim. Seth. Bruce. Joe. Matt. Lawyer guy. Will. Bill. Irv’s first time leading group. Evergreen High School. Its students. Seth’s daughters. Rain. 40 degree morning. A Mountain Fall begins. The Aspen’s, like Smaug, guarding still their gold. My son. His journey. A life led by principle. The Ancient Brothers on mystery.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Men, together

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Derech Eretz.  literally, the way of the land.

  • Natural law. In some interpretations, it represents a natural, moral order that exists independent of formal Torah law. This is reflected in the saying, “Derech Eretz preceded the Torah,” and speaks to the innate decency that human beings should possess

Tarot:  #2 The High Priestess Druid Craft

  • Patience and waiting: The High Priestess advises against taking immediate action. She represents a time of quiet gestation and reflection, encouraging you to wait for more clarity to emerge.
  • Spirituality and the subconscious: The card points toward a deeper connection with your spiritual side, meditation, and exploring the mysteries of your psyche. 
One brief shining: We sat in the sanctuary shofars evidence signaling the coming of Rosh Hashanah while we conversed quietly, a minyan; one of us, visibly shaken, spoke of picking up his daughter from Evergreen High School that day before the shooting started, she was not feeling well, and I recalled Gabe’s succinct thought: Today is a strange day.

 

Aftermath: We men discussed how to be seen, how to know one another, how to be known. Wondered if the world hungered for human connection and dared take the risk, what it would be like.

We didn’t discuss it yesterday, but we could have. Think school shooter. What comes to mind? Yes, a boy, a sad angry dismissed unhappy no right place in his high school world boy. Boiler Medic Ken and I discussed this. Ken said yeah when he was in high school you took it out back and settled things. Except. These boys would not have been the ones, Ken.
 
What responsibility do we adult men have to the shattered psyche’s of boys who would be, not men, but seen, heard, appreciated, and failing that go the way of the too, too easy to obtain gun? Surely something. But how to engage, how to be there?
 
I raised a boy. Just one. I know he needed love, boundaries, respect. My guess, but not much of a guess, is that these boys need those things, too. From someone who matters.
 
Two of our number yesterday, one long retired, one just beginning work(ed) with young boys, ones whose lives experienced the disruption of mental illness. There are those among us who walk that road. Perhaps they could guide us.
 

Just a moment: Meanwhile, one who should guide us, call us together, calls instead for revenge. Vengeance is mine saith the Donald. In poor imitation. I believe Donald is one of those boys. Still. An insecure, frightened, internally beleaguered man-child, still up against the school yard fence promising reprisals.

Politics, US History

Judge on the side of merit

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Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: Shadow, morning Dog. Alan, coming to Aspen Perks. Irv, leading the CBE men’s group today. CBE legacy fund dinner. Slichot. Elul. Cheshbon Nefesh. The Days of Awe. Rosh Hashanah. Yom Kippur. A cool morning. Charlie Kirk. Desmond Holly. Guns. Gun control. Australia’s protests. Mark in Hafar. Fatima.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Slichot prayers

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Derech Eretz  literally, the way of the land.

  • Natural law. In some interpretations, it represents a natural, moral order that exists independent of formal Torah law. This is reflected in the saying, “Derech Eretz preceded the Torah,” and speaks to the innate decency that human beings should possess. 

Tarot: Ten of Cups, (Druid Craft)

  • Emotional fulfillment: You have reached a state of profound happiness and contentment. This can be the culmination of a long emotional journey and a feeling of having a “happy ever after”.

One brief shining: Oh, the tendrils of hate growing up through the streets of peace and decency, bullets fired from sniper rifles, a presumption of moral rectitude, a bracing and easy identification of the other whether they be white supremacists or Jews or far right Christians or immigrants, a human tendency to run with a crowd already like us perverted into us against them instead of we for all, smashes my face up against human frailty and its real world, every day costs.

 

Just a moment: Here’s a paragraph from a Washington Post opinion piece that struck an especially deep place for me:

“There’s something to be said for respect. I want to put in a good word for forbearance in the public square — for holding off on payback if someone’s struggle for justice doesn’t accord with your own. I want to say as best I can that there are ways to confront people without resorting to bashing heads, pulling guns or attacking one another with mean words and malicious deeds.” Colbert King, Washington Post, 9/13/2025. Political Violence in America is an Endless Scroll.

While I know my own rhetoric here has not always conformed to the principle King underlines, I wish it had. I do love satire and the taste of fighting words when it comes to politics. Also, the actions they inspire. I hope my work on the New Apostolic Reformation and Hazony’s Conservatism Rediscovered will reflect what Rabbi Jamie calls appreciative inquiry.

And yet. I still embrace and hope I embody an attempt always to go to the root of injustice and social discord. To fight power that corrupts, oppresses, demeans, dismisses. Difficult positions to hold at the same time.

An initial approach might look like this: consider another, or a different political expression say, first from the attitude of appreciate inquiry. What strengths and skills does the other have? What positive message can be found in, say, Trump’s America First policies? This relates to the Jewish concept of judge others on the side of merit.

So, what, from a leftist perspective, does America First offer? It reminds me, and could remind others of my persuasion that justice and economic opportunity begins at home. Along with Hazony I would emphasize family as an important place to start political analysis. In fact, I would say that we, the left, lost sight of just this focus: the injustice and imbalance among poor families in this country. Including poor, working class white families.

When we entertain solutions, policies, social change that focus on those families, well, we move in different directions. I believe government has not only a role, but a responsibility to level the playing field. Charity and moral uplift do not have a broad enough reach. Yet we can agree, I think, that American families need our priority attention.

 

Far Right, Politics, Shadow Mountain

Boiler Medic

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Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Friday gratefuls: Wind. Artemis. Dog food. Dog treats. Ken. His story. Boiler Medic. Zone valves and pressure relieving tanks. Agency. Sinah. Ahavah. Negative and positive emotional attachment. Thursday mussar. Traveling Tom. All gun shot victims. All the parents of high school students in Evergreen.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Gun control

Year kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Omet Lev. Strength of the heart. The inner strength to move forward.

Tarot: #2, The High Priestess reversed. (Druid Craft Deck)

  • Repressed feelings and hidden truths: The reversal indicates that something is being kept under wraps—either by you or by others. The truth is hidden behind a veil, and you are either in denial or unwilling to confront an underlying issue.  Gemini

One brief shining: Guns, their ease of use, their ability to turn the aggrieved into deadly actors, their easy acquisition, those who fetishize them, the video games and movies that valorize them, guns guns guns guns somehow remain behind a second amendment veil, obscuring the truth for so many.

 

Ken, the Boiler Medic: Ken has taken care of our boiler, hot water, and hot water heat since we moved in. He came yesterday because the hot water heat in Kate’s old sewing room, now my exercise room, did not come on. With winter up next I’ll need some level of heat in that room.

An Apache, Ken and two of his sons, have all served in the Marines. He has stories of a life I could never have lived. One son, a gunnery sergeant, is twenty and out in three months. He’s studying right now to be a game warden in California. Poignant for Ken since he told me long ago that he too wanted to be a game warden, but a DUI disqualified him.

He’s had many jobs. Smoke Jumper. Career ended when he landed on a Pinõn Tree just as it exploded in a fire, breaking his back. Grocery Store Manager. Career ended with hollowing out of Grand Junction when a coal fired generating plant closed and fifty thousand people left town overnight. General maintenance in a setting where he became captivated by the big boilers. A plumber, then a commercial boiler installer and repair guy. Now on his own with his company Boiler Medic.

His non-work pursuits are even more interesting. He raced motorcycles until an accident that again injured his back. His motorcycle, the motorcycle of the guy that hit him, and its rider landed on him. His last motorcycle race. Though his kids raced, his daughter winning national races as a teenager.

He races mountain bikes now. He goes bike camping, showing me a bike with panniers, and other clever storage spots. He takes his Blue Heeler along, riding in a bike trailer with one wheel.

He grew up hunting for meat to feed his family. This year he has a muzzle loading license, an Elk and Bear license, and a Moose license. The Moose license is by lottery and it’s very rare to get one. Though hunting is not my thing, I honor people who hunt and eat the meat. And, who use guns responsibly.

 

Family, Far Right, Jefferson County, Memories, Mussar, Politics, US History, White Supremacy

A Culture Dying of Lead Poisoning

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Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Teshuva. Accounting of the soul. Shadow on my pillow. Sleeping. 9/11. My son’s decision on account of it. Seoah. Murdoch. Jangs. Singapore. Time with Mary there and in Hawai’i. The anguish of our Middle East actions. Of Israel’s. The Evergreen Shooting. Columbine. Guns. Gun control. Our poor benighted nation. Charlie Kirk.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Tara’s hot tub garden bed

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Ometz Lev. Strength of the heart. A middah I wish for all parents and school children in Evergreen this day.

Tarot: Ten of Cups, (Druid Craft)

  • Domestic Harmony: Suggests a stable, secure, and happy home environment. This card often points to a desire for or achievement of an idyllic country life.
  • Gratitude and Blessings: A call to recognize and appreciate the blessings you have. The cups are a reminder of the rewards that come from love and connection. 

One brief shining: This Shadow Mountain home with its three levels, the guest level and the home office, the main level with Arts and Crafts furniture and lights, the fireplace, the breakfast nook built by Jon, a remodeled kitchen, a pantry, an exercise room, the downstairs level with its oriental rugs, comfy chairs, television, bedroom, and laundry room, Shadow’s food and toys, the fenced in backyard filled with Lodgepoles, Grasses, Groundcovers, Wild Flowers, and now Artemis, a place of memories with Kate, with Vega, Rigel, Gertie, Kepler, with guests over the years, its solar panels, its four car garage and library above, a front with no lawn, more Lodgepoles and Aspens, Kate’s Iris bed and her Lilacs in back has been my refuge, my hermitage, my home of eleven years come this Winter Solstice. Yes to the Ten of Cups.

Oh, my: Gabe and Ruth both sent texts. Gabe: “So today Charlie (Kirk) got shot and killed. And evergreen highschool got shot up. Today is strange.”  Ruth: “One of the things I don’t get is how you can be so set on defending a fetus and its life yet guns are more of a right than life is for students.”

Rabbi Jamie opened our sanctuary to any in town who might need it. Ironically he presented a program last night on teshuva. “While often translated as repentance, its deeper meaning is about taking action to return to one’s true, divine self…” Gemini The Jewish month of Elul, in which we are right now, encourages a time of reflection-of cheshbon nefesh, an accounting of the soul-with the aim of teshuva before Rosh Hashanah.

How can we as a nation, as a culture, return to, as one sage put it, the landscape of our soul? Not just the shooter(s) in the 47 school shootings to date this year (Ruth’s numbers), no, but our  culture dying from lead poisoning.

Where is the landscape in which I grew up? Flawed in many, many ways to be sure, but at least one in which gun owners hunted, did not demand their “second amendment rights” and the only duck and cover was to shield ourselves (ha) from a nuclear explosion.