She Also Kills

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.

 

 

 

249 Years

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.

Learned Enough?

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.

It’s a Pain

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.

 

Shadow and the Psyche

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.

A Family Tragedy

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Monday gratefuls: Keaton Cousins. Tanya. Kenya. Carla. Lisa. Cathy. Diane. Richard. Kristen. Ikie. Melinda. Annette. Sibs. Mary and Mark. Joe and Seoah. Ruth and Gabe. Shadow. Fire. Water. Earth. Air. The Greenhouse. Tomatoes. Squash. Planting today. Seeds. Beets. Radish. Lettuce. Kale. Chard. Salmon for fertilizer for the Tomatoes.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Tiny irrigation system

Week Kavannah: Wu Wei. Work with the chi.

One brief: She was my age, Tanya, one of the five Steffey girls who lived in Arlington when I was young, slender and delicate, pretty in a country girl way, married to David, a farmer, and she died two nights ago trapped in the garage during a house fire.

 

Family: Got an email from Diane yesterday with the news that Tanya, a first cousin also born in 1947 like me, had not escaped a house fire in her home in Rush County, Indiana.

We are close, we Keaton cousins. My mom convinced my dad to move back to Indiana from Oklahoma so she could be closer to her family, the Keaton side.

While I’ve not seen most of them in a while, except for Diane, all those Thanksgivings, summer family reunions, overnight visits, we knew each other well. And care about each other.

We lost Lisa, the youngest Steffey, a while back to a stroke. Ikie to complications from a spinal problem and Annette to the end of a tough life. Now Tanya in a house fire. A large extended family withering away, one by one, as the seasons come and go.

Sadness, loss, disbelief. Faraway from the Rockies, yet so close in my memory. My heart.

Since moving to the Mountains, I’ve not made it home much. The last time September of 2015, my 50th high school class reunion. Not long after my prostatectomy. Don’t remember if I saw Tanya on that trip or not. Mary saw her this summer while visiting.

I’ll miss her.

 

The Greenhouse: Planted the Tomato Plants yesterday. In the Greenhouse because they like/need heat. Had a large Salmon fillet I had cut into portions and frozen too long ago. Unthawed them and put Salmon beneath each Tomato Plant.

Nathan came later in the day and topped off the outside raised beds with compost, installed a nifty irrigation system, picked up his trash. We shook hands, wished each other well.

He’ll be back because he has to install the black mesh fencing to keep out the Deer and Elk, the heater for the winter, and Cedar lap boards to seal the bottom of the greenhouse. I enjoyed working with him, getting to know him.

This morning I plan to Plant seeds in the outside raised beds. More salad fixings. Radish. Beets. Lettuce. Arugula. Kale. Chard. Nasturtiums. A few Marigolds for companion planting.

The Greenhouse has come to life.

 

Dog journal: My Shadow spent her fifth night in a row outside. Protecting us from marauding Mule Deer who would eat our Grass during the night. She protected us all. Damn. Night.

 

 

The Seven Mountain Mandate

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Sunday gratefuls: Ginny and Janice. Annie and Luna. Tomato Plants. Squash Plants. Compost. Planting again. Today. Greenhouse 90% done. Indoor bed ready to go. Shadow. Outside again. Wu wei. Back and leg pain. Labrum tear. Potential fixes. Nathan and Dakota. Dakota’s recovery. Vince and Preston. Mowing.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Tomato Plants in Artemis

Week Kavannah:  Wu Wei. Work with the chi.

One brief shining: Yesterday I laid my dibble, ruler, and hori hori knife on the shelf inside Artemis, touched the green Leaves of the Tomato Plants and the Squash plants, began the transition from Nathan’s construction project to my greenhouse and I felt an odd, but familiar calm settle over me.

 

Artemis: Nathan took a couple of hours from watching Dakota, who returned home from the vets without surgery needed, and put compost in the greenhouse bed. He also brought six Tomato Plants and two Squash Plants grown in the greenhouse he finished before mine. I’m excited about planting them today after the Ancient Brothers.

We also discussed the Deer and Elk protection, which he had forgotten. He will use black mesh fencing material and build a wide door on each raised bed. The outside beds need this protection. They also have a roof extension over them for hail protection. One hail storm can destroy a garden up here.

Artemis has begun to feel alive, a place for growth and love. I’ve missed having my hands in the Soil, taking care of Plants, eating produce fresh from the garden.

Shadow also has an interest in Artemis. She’s dug a bit in the Cedar chips that cover the floor. Likes the smell I imagine.

 

Dog journal: Shadow continues her outdoor ways. Sleeping near my bedroom window right on the ground. Last night, as other nights of late, she found things to warn off her property. Meaning she was the one breaking the silence of  Shadow Mountain. Embarrassing.

Natalie and I have two objectives: the leash and Shadow inside when it’s dark outside.

 

New Apostolic Reformation: You’ve probably not heard of the Seven Mountain Mandate. Yet in tandem with Cindy Jacob’s new interpretation of “Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations…” it provides a deep rationale for Christian Nationalism.

The idea popularized by Lance Wallnau says to conquer and rule nations Christians (read: charismatic Christians of the New Apostolic Reformation) must rise to the top of the seven mountains of culture:

Only the religion mountain requires a spiritual leader. Wallnau explains this idea with the government mountain. From an Isaiah passage about the anointing of Cyrus-a Persian ruler who freed the Jews from their Babylonian captivity-Wallnau proposed that Donald Trump had received a Cyrus Anointing. That is, though not a Christian or even a moral man, as Cyrus was neither a Jew nor a righteous man according to Jewish law, Trump could/would free Christians from their captivity to the forces of Satan.

The Jacobs’ idea of discipling nations and the need for Christians to rise to the top of the seven mountains of culture in each nation makes for a politicization of all the mountains. The Cyrus Anointing brought most New Apostolic Reformation types quickly into the 2016 campaign on Trump’s side.

This is a quick summary. More on this later.

 

Gilbert lies in state

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Shabbat gratefuls: Nathan. His Husky, Dakota. Pollen. Plant sex. Lodgepole yellow. Shadow, loves to see me outside. Back and leg pain. Labrum tear treatment. SPRINT. The Greenhouse, very close. Tara and Eleanor. Luke and Leo. Tom and Max. People and their familiars.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Animal Companions

Week Kavannah: Wu-Wei. work the with flow of chi

One brief shining: Taking part in the Sloan-Kettering trial for a better way to help folks over 70 with cancer cope with life, finding most of the material not exactly trite, but obvious at least to me. Disappointed.

 

Dog journal: Shadow and I have a dance. We make progress. Our relationship is happy and loving. She joyfully runs across the whole back yard to throw herself at me. She rests now beside my chair. When she sleeps inside, she spends most of the night on the bed.

However. She dodges the leash. And, she has not come in at night for three nights now. Challenges. How to work with her since we are in a good place with each other. Natalie returns next week. Those will be the main two issues to resolve.

Nathan’s dog Dakota has an intestinal blockage. Multiple thousands of dollars. His old Jack Russel who lived with his Dad died two weeks ago. And, his partner, who runs a Dog sitting business, got bit twice this week after eight years with none.

Our Animal companions burrow their way into our lives, sneaking into soul connections, heart bonds tight. When they’re in trouble, so are we.

Thinking of Dakota who had surgery yesterday evening and has an extended recovery ahead of her.

 

Back and leg pain: Well. Gosh. Now even a short drive puts me in enough pain that on returning home I have to lie down. This in spite of improving strength through p.t. and three times a day dosings with tramadol.

Around the house my pain has ameliorated. Much better. Not sure what it is about driving. But I don’t like it. Come on, SPRINT.

 

Just a moment: In other Dog news, Gilbert, state senator Melissa Hortman’s Golden Retriever, lies in state with Melissa and her husband, Mark, at the Minnesota Capitol. I knew Melissa a little bit from Sierra Club work at the Capitol.

All three were shot by Vance Boelter, a man with strong connections to the New Apostolic Reformation (NAR). I’m two thirds of the way through Matthew Taylor’s “The Violent Take It By Force” which investigates the NAR’s role in the January 6th insurrection.

I plan a series of posts about this book when I finish it, but one noteworthy piece of information from it may help us understand Boelter’s actions.

Cindy Jacobs, a prophet in the New Apostolic Reformation, added a layer of interpretation to the familiar verse from the Gospel of Matthew cited often by missionary focused Christians: “Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations…”

Missionaries inspired by this command have long traveled the Earth seeking converts and building churches. Jacob’s saw another level of interpretation.

She wants the NAR to make disciples of nations. Not just individuals. This raises the stakes of what the NAR calls spiritual warfare. The metaphors are violent and now, with Jacob’s new approach, apply to whole nations.

The title of Taylor’s book, in fact, comes from Matthew 11:12: “From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent take it by force.”

 

Foresight

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Friday gratefuls: Nathan. Artemis, almost finished. Soil and watering system today. Abby, the ortho p.a. X-rays. Driving pain. Shadow. Outside two nights now. Jim Butcher. Matthew Taylor, The Violent Take It By Force. Iran. Israel. Trump. The Middle East. Peter Thiel. Ross Douthat.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Morning Darkness

Week Kavannah:  Roeh et hanalod. Foresight. Knowing what will be needed in the future.

One brief shining: Off again to the old man’s rec center, the lobby of yet another doctor, this time Panorama Orthopedics to see Abby Price, p.a., in Golden about 35 minutes from home, ironically to talk about hip pain which the drive there and back produced in abundance.

 

Hip and back pain: So. A bit of a paradiddle here. Abby Price, p.a., looked at my mri results and the inevitable x-rays taken when visiting an orthopedist. Arthritis in my right hip.

The labrum tear. “Fortunately we treat these kind of tears conservatively. A steroid injection in the hip. Usually relief in 24 to 36 hours. No more buckling.”

Also, Halle has me on the road back to regular workouts. I’ll move from her to On the Move Fitness when she feels like I’m ready. They’re next door to each other.

Deb Brown, owner of On the Move, was married to Dave Brown, my trainer who died of glioblastoma two or three years ago. We shared a bit of our grief journey back then. She designs new workouts for me, helps me progress.

I’ve lost a lot of ground over the winter, but I see the way forward now.

 

Greenhouse: Nathan is such an interesting guy. In addition to being a serial entrepreneur he also runs ultra marathons. He told me yesterday he wanted to do one more one-hundred mile (!) race, then give it up. Too hard on the body.

He’s putting the finishing touches on the greenhouse and will load the raised beds with soil this morning. I’ll post another round of photos tomorrow.

The greenhouse will have a drip watering system, an arid zone adaptation to make the best use of irrigation. Its windows open and close based on temperature settings achieved by a small piston that can be adjusted by turning a plastic sleeve that covers the piston itself.

Plenty of rope on the inside for hanging baskets. Herbs. Flowers. Iron hangers on the outside for the same. Artemis will be gardening in a very compact and easy on the back spot. So many options.

 

Dog journal: Shadow stayed outside the last two nights. Will. Not. Come. In. This and the leash are the last major hurdles. Natalie returns next week and we’ll get to work.

The leash should be straight forward, but the coming in at night involves Shadow’s crossing the threshold tic. A difficult issue to resolve.

Capitalism is theft

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Thursday gratefuls: Greenhouse almost done. Nathan. Shadow. Rain. Monsoons. My son and Seoah. Murdoch likes his new balcony. Vince and his brother, Preston. Vermont Flannel. LL Bean. Halle. Progress in p.t. One hour moves. M.O.P. His greasiness, Red Tie Guy. Our waning nation. The Founding Mothers. Fathers. Let’s stop them spinning in their graves. Let them rest. Lox. Cream cheese. Capers. Red Onion. Bagels.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Greenhouse

Week Kavannah:  Roeh et hanalod. Foresight. Knowing what will be needed in the future.

One brief shining: When Monsoon Rains pound Shadow Mountain, throwing down bits of large pea sized Hail, Lodgepoles and Aspens, Lilacs and Iris, Bunch Grass and Wildflowers all take a big drink knowing Water for what it is here in the Mountain West, more precious than gold.

 

Just a moment: I know. This is not usually a lead off section, but I need to comment on the Washington Post Editorial Board’s screed about Zohran Mamdani’s primary victory in the New York City primary.

Here’s a sample from the Op Ed:

chatgpt struggles with words. this is the fourth iteration.

“Now, a man who believes that capitalism is “theft” is in line to lead the country’s biggest city and the world’s financial capital. His signature ideas are “city-owned grocery stories,” no bus fares, freezing rent on 1 million regulated apartments and increasing the minimum wage to $30. No doubt these might strike some voters as tempting ideas.”

Can you see the cold dead finger of Jeff Bezos in these words? Yes. The man who stood with his fellow oligarchs like Tim Cook, Elon Musk, and Mark Zuckerberg behind the President’s family on January 20th owns this newspaper. Which also refused to endorse a candidate in the Presidential campaign.

I disagree with the Bishop of Hippo on many things, like original sin for example, but I’m down with him on this Gemini summary of his position on wealth:

“Augustine of Hippo, in his writings, argued that excess wealth is essentially theft from the poor, as it represents resources that are needed by others. He believed that true wealth lies not in material possessions but in generosity and love for God, and that hoarding wealth is a form of spiritual corruption.”

This Washington Post editorial board opinion is nothing more than red-baiting, an echo of another past political era we would do well to remember as a cautionary tale, not a guide post.

I neither want a return to robber baron politics nor McCarthyism. Hell, I’d settle for the Eisenhower tax structure. Perhaps you can mount an argument, unseemly as it would be, that innovation leads to concentrations of wealth. Or, that money rewards hard work. Both propositions put forward of course by those who benefit from belief in them.

Whatever the rationale capitalism is theft. Ask the Third World. Ask the immigrant coming here for the crumbs off the master’s table. Ask me.

I count myself among the democratic socialists and have for a very long time. How we treat the least of these. Yeah?