Fall and the Moon of the Thinned Veil
Thursday gratefuls: Kate, always Kate. Sandy, a sweet visit. Rigel’s skin problem. Joseph, on his way. The three Mule Deer Does that visited our yard yesterday afternoon. A very cool Night. The house all pretty. The mini-splits coming next week. And, the kitchen remodel is on! Fiddler on the Roof this weekend with Jon, Ruth, and Gabe. The Hermitage.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Learning
Tarot: Page of Arrows, the Wren. Wildwood Deck
Got the green light from my financial advisor for the kitchen remodel plus the mini-splits. With the house staining completed on Tuesday these three will inspire me, I hope, to better cooking, make it possible to sleep in the heat and pollen season, and feel good when I turn in the drive coming home.
Our pre-Covid housekeeper, Sandy, came yesterday. She’s a smart, streetwise, tough, empathic lady. We talked a long time. Kate was a mother-figure to her.
Covid wrecked housekeeping/cleaner’s businesses. We paid Sandy for a month’s work because of that. Jackie, our hair stylist, too. While Covid was a nuisance for Kate and me, largely, it was a devastating loss for many small businesses, especially solo enterprises like Sandy and Jackie’s.
Sandy moved to Maryland to be with friends and family. Then found herself trapped there by Covid restrictions and strapped finances. She followed Kate’s decline through Caring Bridge. And felt awful because she missed Kate, wanted to see her, but couldn’t. We talked and cried together. Her grief signalling mine to come to the surface.
Sandy has a benign (?) brain tumor that pushed her brain stem to the side and a platelet disorder that might be a sort of blood cancer. Difficult health issues she gets. Her life has had steep valleys, few peaks. A son in difficulty in California. Her bio mom and her adopted mom’s deaths. The loss of her successful cleaning business. A long period of addiction.
It feels so peaceful in here. When I came before, there was always this sadness. Kate was holding on, but barely. Now though it’s calm here. I know Kate’s happy for you.
She wanted you to have this time, this peace. She’s smiling, her suffering’s over. And she’s watching you.
Sandy was very confident about Kate’s presence in an amazing, warm place. As is Jackie. I take comfort in their comfort. Difficult for me though. I’d like to believe it. Maybe the reincarnation, soul business could explain it? Oh, the skeptic in me hangs on with his fingertips. Hell, no, his whole hands. I’ll leave it at don’t know.
Life here in the Hermitage has changed in the last month or so. The inner weathervane turned toward calm skies, cool days, and quiet nights. The fourth phase.
Leaning into the hidden, the mysterious, the unknown. The fantastic and the fabulous. Leaning into love, longtime friendships, family, dogs. Home where my heart really, really is. A time of the spirit, a time of transition from life to death.
Wednesday gratefuls: A stained house, newly painted garage doors. Daniel. Alvin. Greg. Sandy, coming up to be with Kate’s ashes. Kate, always Kate. The Woolly retreat in November. The Mountains. The Rocks, Lodgepoles, Aspens, Creeks, and Wild Critters. Deep peace.



Tuesday gratefuls: Black Mountain. Golden Fire. Those bucks who visited. Coolness. Daniel. Alvin. Greg. Staining the house. Amy at Mile High Hearing. Phonaks. The Roger. Kate, always Kate. Mark Horn. The Tree of Life spread. Tarot. Changing my perception of myself. That steak I thawed. Potatoes. Peas and carrots. Self-care.


Monday gratefuls: Greg Lell, starts today staining the house. Susan, who will care for the dogs when I go to Minnesota, comes at 10:30. Marina Harris and her crew coming today to clean. RJ working on how much money I can spend. Coyote HVAC next Monday. Kate, always Kate. Those two Mule Deer Bucks. The beginning after the ending.
Bubbling and churning. My life a cauldron, happily. Eye of house stain. Leg of house cleaning. Fingernail of dogsitter. Horn of Mule Deer Buck. Feather of mini-splits. Bits of redo and redesign of kitchen. A dash of Orgovyx. One major arcana. A pinch of the ayn sof. A sprinkle of Stars. A slice of Woolly Mammoth Tusk. Two measures of Aloha. Tears of grief. Stir with family and Congregation Beth Evergreen. Simmer for a season or two.



Sunday gratefuls: Mark Horn. The sephirot. The Tree of Life. Zoom. Kabbalah. Astrology. Alan. The Parkside. Breakfast out. Jackie. Oyama. Kristie. Quest labs. Golden Trees. Tall Mountains. Water falling down the Mountainside. The new trail. Evergreen.
Guess this is good news. I didn’t remember my visit to my oncologist when I wrote yesterday’s post. Anyhow, I’m remembering it now.
I’ve achieved castration level testosterone reduction. Gosh. Isn’t that good! …a dollar. All for vanished testosterone stand up and holler!
A good visit. As good as you can have at your oncologist’s. Cancer losing. More losing expected. Other treatments available.
The Moon. #18 in the major arcana. Again. I keep drawing major arcana. The Lady. The Moon. The Hermit. The Devil. The Chariot. A lot of energy swirling around me, in me. Feels right.





Friday gratefuls: Mussar. Women friends. CBE. Kep and Rigel, my loft dogs. David and his prostate cancer journey. New schedule. Better. Mike Rogers from Bear Creek Design. His expansive (read: expensive) vision. A fun one. Cardio at 4:30 pm.
Talked with David yesterday. At 63 his PSA, after a long stretch in the 2.0’s (perfectly ok for a healthy guy, jumped to 17! Yikes. Then, by the time he saw an urologist, it had hit 43. Double yikes. This was three years ago.
Realized this last month. I’ve had prostate cancer for over six and a half years. Seems like a long time when I say it like that. And, now, I’m never getting rid of it. However. If I can achieve undetectable over a long span of years, well, ok then. Cancer as a chronic disease. Wow.
Signed up for Astrology and Kabbalah at the Kabbalah Experience. Taught by two CBE’rs: Elisa Robyn. My astrologist. (oh. never thought I’d write that) and Luke Colaciello, the new Executive Director at CBE. He co-taught the Tarot and Kabbalah with Rabbi Jamie this summer.
Fall and the Michaelmas Moon
Pushed myself last evening to get out of the house and over to CBE for Simchat Torah. This is the holiday that ends the sweep of holidays that include the High Holidays and Sukkot. It marks the reading of the last parsha, Torah portion, and beginning again with Bereshit, Genesis.
Knowing this story is, in my outsider opinion, more important than circumcision, the kippah, the chuppah, or ketuba in Jewish identity.
After the dancing the entire Torah scroll is unrolled and congregants take up prayer shawls, put the shawls around their hands so they won’t get oily hands on the scroll itself and hold it up. It becomes a physical never ending story as a circle is formed and the end comes next to the beginning.
Wednesday gratefuls: Coyote HVAC. Starting next Thursday. Greg Lell, starting tomorrow on house staining. Mussar. Tarot. Kabbalah. Astrology. Elisa Robyn. Rabbi Jamie. Alan. David Jordani. Tom Crane and his colleague who recommended the mini-splits. Shirley Waste. Frozen dinners. Cool nights. Rain and snow on the way. Ruth and her first homecoming. Max. Claire and Patrick, his mom and dad. Paul and Sarah, grandpop and grandma. Kate, aunt.
And so this day comes round at last. Michaelmas. The feast day of the Archangel Michael, defender of heaven, God’s most fierce warrior. Tom and Roxann celebrate their wedding anniversary on this day, usually on the North Shore, sometimes with a cooked goose. Jen, mother of Ruth and Gabe, celebrates her birthday. And Rudolf Steiner thought of this day as the springtime of the soul.

According to the Druid Craft Book, the message is: “You hear the call and awaken to the new light of day. You have entered the darkness and drunk of the cup of silence. You have chosen life and emerge reborn.”
IN the midway of this our mortal life


Back home I ate, finished up some tasks on the computer. Including my third consecutive call to Social Security, Lakewood. It became my third consecutive call to timeout in their system. Maddening. An armed security officer prevents entrance to the Social Security building in Lakewood. I can’t get to them by phone. WTF!
But. That raises a money question. Can I afford both the mini-splits and a remodeled kitchen? Don’t even know how to answer the question. But, I’m gonna check with RJ. Maybe.