Dogs, Friends, Politics, World History

He shoots!

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: Shadow. Dr. Josy. Audrey. Ginny and Janice. Bread Lounge. Fave’s restaurant. Good friends. Laughing. The leash and the collar. Putting a leash on Shadow, the free spirit. Tomatoes. Kale. Spinach. Beets. Soil in the mail. Mark. Al Kharj. Mary. Melbourne. My son and Seoah. Back in Osan.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Annie and Shadow

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Histapkot. Contentment.

“Who seeks more than he needs, hinders himself from enjoying what he has. Seek what you have and give up what you need not. For in giving up what you don’t need, you’ll learn what you really need.” Rabbi Solomon ibn Gabirol

Tarot: Seven of Stones, healing.

One brief shining: A chittering sound, a Squirrel maybe, or some Insect rubbing its wings together, a Grasshopper could be, comes in through the open window along with a cool morning Breeze, occupying a bit of my mind as I write, bringing the outside inside while I try to wrench the inside outside.

 

Dog journal: Dr. Josy came carrying a long flat object in a cloth covering. A portable scale. Her daughter Audrey carried a large rectangular carryall full of syringes, medicines, treats, other necessaries for a traveling veterinarian.

Shadow weighs 35 pounds. Dr. Josy had to hold Shadow and then weigh herself with Shadow and without. Shadow would not stand on the scale. Of course.

She gave Shadow a vaccine for leptospirosis. Lepto comes for contact with animal urine and is zoonotic, meaning it can transmit to humans often resulting in kidney failure. She also drew blood for a heartworm test, checked Shadow’s heart and lungs, her various joints, her teeth, and whether her i.d. chip was functional. It is.

While Audrey held Shadow on her lap, Dr. Josy clipped her nails. Shadow remained quiet and comfortable the whole time, snuggling into Audrey’s lap.

Dr. Josy thinks, and I somewhat reluctantly agree, that I should get a second dog, a companion for Shadow. Someone to play with. Since Kate and I always bought litter mates when we could, I understand. But do I want to be a two dog household again? Thinking about it.

Dr. Josy thought Shadow was perfect. Healthy, sweet, comfortable to work with. Well, I do, too.

 

Friends: Ginny and Janice came over later in the day bringing Annie and Luna to play with Shadow. Along with takeout from the Bread Lounge. While we ate, Shadow and Annie ran each other around the yard. Sometimes they would all run inside, up the stairs, to see what we were doing.

Ginny and Janice call Luna, their little girl who can’t weigh more than five pounds, the fun police. When Shadow and Annie got too boisterous, Luna would bark at them to stop.

 

Just a moment: He dribbles, he shoots! Putin scores! I can imagine the flattery, the bribery, the sophistry that Vlad brought to the table. All catered to our insecure tyrant. This one was over before it began. Pity the poor, benighted Ukrainians. No need for Zelensky. The big boys are taking care of it.

Fourth Phase, Health, Tarot

Bracing

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Friday gratefuls: Ginny and Janice. Annie and Luna. Shadow and friends. Warmish morning. Beets growing taller. Spinach spreading its still small leaves. Kale as well. Tomatoes fruiting. Growing. Waiting on Soil for the East facing bed. Marny Eulberg. Post-polio syndrome. Post-polio survivors. Like me. Her butterfly garden.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: My neck muscles that have worked so hard all these years

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Hakarat Hatov. Recognizing the good

Tarot: The Journey, #13 of the major arcana

One brief shining: Bend your neck to the left, now press against my hand, bend to the right, press against my hand, put your chin on your chest, oh yes, you can only go 10 degrees to the left but almost 40 to the right. Thank you, Marny.

 

Health: Yesterday was post-polio day. I drove down to Wheatridge, a charming place to my surprise, with brick homes, old businesses in older buildings, tree-lined streets. Marny’s home was on a cul-de-sac with five other large houses. Hers stood out because her front yard has a Butterfly Garden instead of Grass. I liked her already.

She met me at the door, her right leg braced, a slight hitch in her step. Gray-haired, a bit plump, with a red t-shirt featuring an Elephant. A grandma, crone figure.

Inside a large open room with a tiled floor, a kitchen area and a living area together. Her dog, a friendly cockapoo with an absurdly long tail licked my hand.

At her invitation I sat at her kitchen table. Two old folks, survivors of the pre-1950 polio epidemic. She handed me some literature about post-polio organizations including one in Colorado.

She read my answers to her new patient three page form, asking me questions as she did. No, no surgeries. Yes, breathing support. Iron lung.

She had me take off my t-shirt and manipulated my neck. All this to create a prescription for the orthotist. A brace-maker. She showed me examples. Similar to one’s used for people who’ve broken their neck. I like this one. Minimalist.

Not sure how often I’ll use whatever one I get. Driving. Yes. In the backyard with Shadow. Yes. Because I tend to walk with my head down I run into Lodgepole Branches. If I get enough pain recession, while hiking. Maybe even at meetings later in the day when my muscles wear down.

I need to have it though because my neck has gotten worse over the past year. Maybe I’ll get comfortable enough with it to wear it more often.

 

Tarot: The Journey. #13 on the Wanderer’s spiritual path through the Wildwood. A little over midway. The Journey card acknowledges death as a part of life’s journey, the end of a life. I can take it at its most literal since the end of my journey has come closer and closer. True of all of us in our late seventies. A step along the way.

I can also take the card as a sign of inner change. Accepting my disabilities. Back pain. Neck atrophy. Accepting my prostate cancer and its own destination. This is, come to think of it, my year kavannah, my intention to live fully into wu wei. Going with life as it presents itself. Going with flow. This is where the winding stream of my life has brought me and I’m fine with letting this kayak bob and weave on its remaining bends and pools and rapids.

 

Friends, Great Work, Judaism

Is it too late?

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Rebecca. Terry. Joanne. Coal Mine Dragon Chinese Restaurant. Lake Evergreen. A golden Sunset. Elk Cow headed to the library. Marny Eulberg. Post-Polio Syndrome. Mussar. Luke. His new job. Alan and the Wildflower. Veronica on the Pacific Crest Trail. Tom. Roxann. Sylvan. The Pacific Northwest. Alaska.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: A Western Sunset

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Hakarat Hatov. Recognizing the good.

Tarot: The Stag. #8 of the major arcana. Guardian of the Forest: The Stag is a powerful symbol of the forest, embodying strength, dignity, and a connection to nature’s wisdom

One brief shining: Terry, who has lived in Evergreen since it had all dirt roads, Joanne, who owns 27 acres of land overlooking the Continental Divide, Rebecca, who on September 16th goes again to a Tibetan Buddhist nunnery near Dharamsala for four months, and I ordered Drunken Noodles, Shrimp dishes with Chinese Vegetables while discussing whether we’re in a pre-holocaust time in the U.S.

 

Judaism: The conversations grow more prevalent. Should we leave? Joanne knows several who have gone, fearing the next ICE sweep will be for Jews. After they’ve sated themselves on Mexicans, Central Americans, and any other poor bastards they can round up.

Joanne wondered whether the goyim, any of them, feel this sense of disease about their personal safety. “Or, is it just us. The after the holocaust generation of Jews?”

My sense is that no, the goyim do not feel the same sense of personal peril as Jews. Though some groups, like LGBT folks and some naturalized citizens do. That’s not to say they don’t fear the future (and immediate) impacts of Dictator Donald. Those on the liberal side of the equation. Yet their talk about leaving the country hangs more on distaste, on no longer wanting to be identified with a cryptofascist version of the nation they once loved. Not on worries about Alligator Alcatraz being used on them.

All three of us Joanne, Rebecca and me (Terry is not a Jew.) agreed we were too old to leave. Joanne hopes her sell by date comes up before things go that far. I’m banking on Colorado and the Mountains. Rebecca, if the worst appears on the horizon, could flee to the nunnery, but she faces visa issues there. So we may eat our last meal together at the Coal Mine Dragon Restaurant.

 

Tarot: The Stag. Emphasizing connection to natural wisdom. To the truth that no matter what trivial politics come and go, Mother Earth will be the final arbiter of our case. She will not hesitate to scrub us off Her Lands if we continue to insult Her and Her Atmosphere.

She metes out a certain justice, one that considers the good of all more important than that of any one species. No forgiveness. No mercy. Rising Tides. Powerful Storms. Blazing Heat. We all sit at Her judgment seat.

The Stag says, heed Her before it is too late. And so do I.

Dogs, Health

Staying in it

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Wednesday Gratefuls: Kai. Randy. Ginny and Janice. Shadow, hunter of Chipmunks. More green Fruiting Bodies on the Tomato Plants. A dark, warm Morning. Marny Eulberg, post-polio specialist. Hernia. Natalie. Her observations of Shadow. Tom, Roxann, Sylvan. Washington. Korea. Malaysia. Australia. Saud Arabia. USA.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Nerve ablation

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Hakarot Hatov. Recognizing the Good

Tarot: Ace of Bows, the spark of life

One brief shining: Collar over the wrist, the attached leash held in a circle bigger than Shadow’s head, left hand with treats, drawing Shadow through the circle, letting her remain there, then pulling the circle back over her head before she can back out, comfort with collar and leash. Slowly. Slowly.

 

Dog journal: Natalie told me anyone else would have returned Shadow to the shelter. Shadow is a free spirit, traumatized therefore always ready to flee, and smart, recognizing dangers to her freedom quickly.

It has been difficult, these last seven months. There were times when I thought neither I nor she could take much more. Yet we’re both stubborn and share a desire for a strong relationship. Believe we’ve got there. Satisfying.

When I look over and see her coiled up next to me in the bed. When she comes running, full tilt, smiling after I call her. When she throws a sock in the air, rolls the ball filled with treats with her nose, performs squeakectomies on stuffed toys. I smile and see the mature dog still hidden by age and past wounds.

Natalie believes an Animal Control Officer used a rabies pole with their wire or cable loops to rescue Shadow from the fire. A frightened puppy already, the rabies pole would only make her fear human contact even more. This seems more than likely to me. Probable.

As I said a while back, Shadow’s history and mine will be written together.

Health: Been having trouble holding my head up for a while now. No. Not shame. Polio. An atrophied muscle in my neck. People would ask me if I felt OK and I’d always say yes, not realizing my head tilted to the right and down. As you can see in the picture.

Now it’s difficult to hold my head up without support. I first learned of this problem in gym class in Junior High. We were learning situps. I had my hands apart over my head, went up toward my knees, then back down and my head dribbled on the floor like a basketball. Hurt.

I was young and that motion is not required often IRL. My other neck muscles compensated. No more hands above head situps and I was good.

Flash forward fifty plus years. Sarcopenia has set in and those compensating muscles have grown tired. Result: looking down as I walk rather than looking ahead. Get hit by low hanging Lodgepole Branches when I’m working with Shadow.

Decided to see an expert in post-polio syndrome, Marny Eulberg. Mostly retired she works out of her house now, does evaluations and prescriptions for assistive devices.

I called her yesterday. She was working in her garden. When she got to her calendar, she said, hmmm. How about this Thursday at 10? Fast. Also, she charges. Nothing. A lifework for her.

When I told her I had bulbar polio, she said, “Oh, that puts you in the 1 or 2 percent right away.” She also said that neck involvement was rare. Like bulbar polio.

Looking forward to meeting her, talking with someone who gets this odd and long lasting dilemma.

Ancient Brothers, Family, Fourth Phase, Friends, Humanities, Poetry, Politics, Seed Keepers, US History, World History

Ways Forward

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Waning gibbous Moon. Morning Darkness. Shadow. Father of Shadows. Great Sol. Artemis and her children. Heirloom Vegetables. Raised beds. Co-creation. Gardening. Kate, always Kate. Bee keeping. The Atmosphere. The Troposphere. Space. The International Space Station. The Hubble. The Web. Exoplanets. Distant Suns. Galaxies. Black Holes.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shadows

Year Kavannah: Wu wei

Week Kavannah:  Hakarat Hatov. Recognizing the Good

Tarot: The Seer, #2

One brief shining: The boiler turns itself on, feeding hot Water into the hot Water tank while open windows let cool Air flow in and over my chair, my feet the chair chosen by Kate supporting me while I write.

 

Hakarat Hatov: Recognizing the good. Luke’s joy at getting an associate Professorship in Chemistry. His care for Leo. Rabbi Jamie’s creative teaching. Tom’s quiet confidence. Ode’s sketchbooks. Bill’s everyday kindnesses. Paul’s serious joy.

As Paul said on Sunday, if we seek Hakarat Hatov, goodness abounds in everyday life, no matter the bitter and ugly transformation of our government. Too easy to focus on the doom, let ourselves fall into despair. Don’t ignore it, no, but also recognize the ordinary good all around.

 

Just a moment: A way forward. Storm Before the Calm by George Friedman. Amy, my audiologist, echoing a similar idea. She knows folks she said, progressives, who want to return to the Obama era. No, she says, MAGA has revealed too many cracks (her word. I might go with chasms, abysses.) in the U.S. There’s no going back Amy went on. What we have to do is survive these years, then build something new, something that takes into account the MAGA reveals.

I agree with her and with Friedman. The excesses of the Gilded Age, which Trump apparently has in mind, led to the progressive era of Teddy Roosevelt, the trust buster.

Or, we could also call this late stage capitalism wherein the oligarchs gather so much money unto themselves that the rest of us have too little to power the consumer economy.

Greed cometh before a fall. As Gordon Gecko showed us.

 

Learning: Higher education and in particular the Humanities have suffered hit after hit as the conservative mortar crews have begun to walk in their ordnance, finding the bunkers and trenches of Renaissance and Enlightenment thought with their “anti-semitic” coded explosives.

I no longer fear the elimination of Humanities courses. Why? Because Thucydides and Beowulf and O’Neil and Whitehead and Mozart and Caravaggio do not live in the academy. They live in those who seek to understand their own humanity, the ways forward when faced with a culture shattered by avarice and base fears.

We and mine will still read the Iliad to understand how one man’s rage can cost the lives of thousands, even millions with today’s WMDs. We will also return to multiple perspectives as modeled by Impressionist, Expressionist, Abstract, and Realist painters and sculptors. We will embrace a world characterized by the metaphysics of becoming, of a One always in process, over the split apart world of Cartesian metaphysics.

The Humanities will not, cannot disappear because they are us at our best, self critical. learning from the vast deposit of human lives already lived.

 

Asia, Dogs, Family, Fourth Phase, Greenhouse, Health, Korea, Shadow Mountain, Tarot

The Future?

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Monday gratefuls: My son and Seoah back home. Murdoch was happy. The Jangs back to Gwangju and Okgwa. Chilly morning. Rain last night. Feels like Fall. Hearing check. Natalie at noon. Edith Wharton. The Gilded Age. When robber barons ruled the U.S. Teddy Roosevelt, who broke up their trusts. The turning of the wheel

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Jet travel

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Hakarat Hatov. Recognizing the good.

Tarot: Seven of Vessels, Mourning.

One brief shining: Leaves gone from simple to complex, seed husks discarded, young stalks pushing upward, reaching for Great Sol, Kale, Spinach, Beets, Nasturtiums, Squash all outside the greenhouse where Tomatoes grow, pollinating themselves, yellow blossoms turning to green bulbous growth on their way to redness.

 

Dog journal: Shadow and I have settled into a nice rhythm. Up at 4:30 to 5:00. A bit of training and cuddling. She goes outside, comes back in around 6. I feed her at 6:45, a bit more training after which she heads outside where she’ll amuse herself until naptime.

Out again after the nap. I go outside at least twice each day to play with her, walk the yard dropping treats. Sometime around 6 pm she either comes in on her own, about 50% of the time, or I pour her food into her bowl which always gets her inside. I close the door and she’s inside for the night.

The next barrier. The leash. Natalie comes today. Our focus.

 

Health: Hearing check today. Don’t expect any changes. May discuss the new AI assisted aids. Tom seems to have had good luck with those though I don’t know whether he bought a new pair.

Visit with Sue Bradshaw last week. She met Joseph. I asked her for a referral to a post-polio doc. Specifically for my neck. Which I find wobbles and tilts. Annoying.

 

The Jangs: My son sent me a message on WhatsApp. Back on base. Murdoch’s tail wagging, wagging, wagging.

Appa and Umma have returned to Okgwa and their truck farm. They left it on its own for the week. Though a rice growers co-op member came by to check on the rice crop.

Mikyung, Seoah’s sister, whose name I misspelled earlier, her husband, and two kids have gone back to Gwangju.

Gathering and dispersing. The way of families in this mobile age. Why this Jang, Ellis, Olson clan has so many different locations: Melbourne, K.L., Osan, Gwangju, Okgwa, Shadow Mountain, Longmont (Ruth), Denver (Gabe). And, Diane in San Francisco.

I used to think this was a problem, and it presents some in the matter of emergencies, but more and more I see at as a feature, not a bug. We are more flexible in our political affiliations and we can support pluralistic, socialist like governments in our home countries while supporting each other in theirs.

Also, I no longer feel quite so attached to the USA. I have a bit of Australian, Korean, Saudi Arabian, and Malaysian patriotism, too. That is, I feel bound to the political actions and their results of those countries as well.

Perhaps this is the future?

Asia, Family, Great Wheel, Greenhouse, Judaism, Korea, Memories, Paganism, Plants, Sport, Tarot

Variables

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Morning darkness. Cool. Shadow and her toys. The flight to Incheon. 9:30 am, MT today. Korea. The Jangs. My son. The Giants. Baseball. A six year old and the World Series. 1987. Kirby Puckett. Randy Johnson. Bert Blyleven. Kent Hrbek. Fathers and sons. Memories, the scaffolding of identity.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Metrodome

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Hakarat Hatov. Recognizing the good.

Tarot: The Three of Arrows, Jealousy

One brief shining: Stubble darkened his golden brown face as he listened, focused, a commander, a lieutenant colonel, yes, but here with me, my son hearing my doctor, Sue Bradshaw, discuss my health.

 

The Jangs: The Giants lost. 4-2. Beaten by the Nationals. Jung Hoo Lee got one hit. Root, root, root for the home team. If they don’t win, it’s a shame. Not in this case. Seeing Lee play center field, bat. That was the ball game for the Korean cheering section.

Their plane leaves this continent today at 10:30 am Pacific time, arriving in Incheon on Monday, the 11th, at 3 pm. The international dateline.

My son returns to work on Tuesday after a “vacation” spent as chauffeur and main problem solver for this Rocky Mountain Korean holiday. He’s confident, decisive, steady, kind.

His work phone kept him busy, too. The oddest problem? A geomagnetic storm, space weather, that could harm the instruments used in his job. Talk about force majeure.

 

The Tarot: Not often do the cards perplex me, but this one, the Three of Arrows, jealousy? Wha…? I left envy and jealousy behind, at least I think I did, years ago. Each night I touch the mezuzah on my bedroom door and say, “I’m comfortable with who I am. I’m comfortable with what I have.” I mean it, too. And feel it in my lev. So, jealousy?

Perhaps it comes to remind me of those days when I read many authors and wanted to write like them? Marion Zimmer Bradley. Herman Hesse. Ovid. Many others. I found my own voice.

Or. Perhaps it comes to remind me of the spiritual journey I’ve taken since those days of ambition. Toward acceptance of the Great Wheel as a model of life. Toward the Jewish insistence on constant questioning. Toward Yamantaka’s wisdom on death. Toward knowledge, intimate knowledge, of the One.

Or, perhaps it’s a random card with no particular resonance at all.

 

Artemis: Kale, Spinach, Beets, Tomatoes thrive. Arugula, Lettuce, Chard not so much. The east facing bed challenges me to learn how to plant it, water it. What unique gift does it have that I can’t quite see right now?

While I wait on the other vegetables to mature, I plan to try different things, see what might turn it from fallow to abundance. First, I plan to replant the Arugula, Lettuce, and Chard. Perhaps today. Then I plan to supplement the drip irrigation with my pretty green watering can. It has a flat copper spout with holes and produces a gentle Rain.

My goal is not so much a harvest at this point, but experimenting with variables to see what makes this bed a comfortable home for Seeds.

 

Asia, Dogs, Family, Fourth Phase, Judaism, Korea, Memories, Mussar, Travel, World History

New Ideas

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: Bagel table. Sue Bradshaw. My son with me. The Jangs in San Francisco. Breckenridge. The oxygen concentrator. Shadow, barking in the early morning. Protecting Artemis from Mule Deer? The darkness. Shadow still barking. Ah. Stopped. Tactical flashlight. Artemis heater. Tomatoes fruiting. Evergreen Lake. Hot weather.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Walking in the Dark

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Hakarat Hatov.

Active Recognition: Hakarat hatov is not passive. It requires conscious effort to identify and acknowledge the good, rather than taking it for granted. Beyond Gratitude: While related to gratitude, hakarat hatov extends to recognizing the good in situations and people, even when they haven’t directly benefited you. Jewish Perspective: In Judaism, hakarat hatov is considered a fundamental value, encouraging a positive outlook and a sense of appreciation for the world and its inhabitants. Gemini

Tarot: The Green Woman, #3*

One brief shining: Out into the back yard tactical flashlight in hand, where is she and what has she seen to cause such a commotion, a lot of barking, barking, barking; the cool Mountain morning wraps around me as I see light reflected in two eyes looking at me, Shadow wondering what is he doing out here.

 

Parting words: When I left the Happy Camper a couple of weeks ago, the Gen Z latter day hippy clerk smiled and said, “Be high out there.” Altitude attitude?

Yesterday when I left Jackie’s after getting my ears lifted, Rhonda, her colleague, gave me a mischievous smile and said, “Don’t behave yourself!”

 

The Jang’s last day in Colorado: My son and Seoah packed up, loaded the huge Dodge Van they’ve used for transporting each other on this Rocky Mountain holiday, and headed for a morning in Breckenridge, my son’s post college home for three years.

The part of their stay which focused on things I’ve done many times, I stayed at home. Partly to preserve my energy. My stamina is not up to days away from home. Mostly I just didn’t want to go.

The evening meals I enjoyed immensely. We connected on levels beyond the need for language. Smiles. Hugs. Being together as family. Some conversation and some of it deep: the nature of government or the origin of Homo sapiens. Some of it silly. They liked Macgiver, Battlestar Galactica, American TV. I like K-dramas. Soft culture.

We left each other on the asphalt of my driveway. Hugs all round except for Umma, who shook my hand. Her way.

An important visit. Memories that build relationships. Relationships that can last over time and distance. My question now is how to nurture, how to reinforce them.

A few ideas. I pay Ruth’s airfare to Korea next summer if she gets an internship there. Maybe I go with her. Gabe’s graduation money could send him to Korea, too.

Perhaps we’ll all meet in Hawai’i. Vacation together in a spot between the Mountains and the Peninsula.

Emails and zoom. Gifts. I’m open to other ideas. Mary? Mark?

 

Just a moment: A new form of family, united across oceans and languages and nations, perhaps that’s part of the answer to Trumpism. An end around. Loosen the bond with any one home country, spend the released energy on building connection continent to continent.

 

*”…the Green Woman mediates the sacred sovereignty of the Earth’s soul and can show the path to understanding and communion with nature. But with this blessing comes responsibility. Remember that this glorious, magnanimous and generous spirit can live through you, radiated by the sacred breath of life and given to others who need guidance and healing.” Parting the Mists

 

Asia, Denver, Family, Korea, The West, Travel, US History

The Buckhorn

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Friday gratefuls: The Buckhorn Exchange. Appa and the long guns. Umma eating beef tenderloin. Buffalo Bill Cody. Guru, the Malaysian Sikh, partner to Mary for 28 years. Their attendance at my son’s command ceremony and Mary’s at my son and Seoah’s wedding. Mary’s long stay in Hawai’i after being deported.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Mark in Saudi Arabia

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Ahavah. Love.

Tarot: The Woodward, #11

One brief shining: Ruby drove into the Buckhorn parking lot at 4:45, the first car there for the evening; as Great Sol boiled the asphalt at 102 degrees hipsters rode by on electric scooters and expensive bicycles with very thin tires, the RTD station filling up with early evening commuters while I waited to dine with Appa and Umma, my son and Seoah in Denver’s oldest restaurant.

The Jangs: The whole clan visited the Denver Museum of Natural History in the afternoon. They found its size amazing, Joseph said. Dongun and Dioon (his sister) (please note: I may have these spellings wrong) loved the mummies.

Leaving Shadow on her own in the back yard, Ruby and I left for Denver around 4 pm, filling her up at the Conoco station before hitting 285. Only with my new seat cushion would I willingly drive down the hill. It makes driving bearable, not pain free, but not excruciating.

As I drove down the hill, evening commuter traffic flowed in the opposite direction, west to Littleton and south up 285 to the Mountains. Nice to go against the traffic. Easier.

Picked up 20+ degrees as I left the Rockies and got back on the High Plains, another reason not to drive down the hill. I did though, as we Mountain folk do, have a light jacket with me, knowing the Buckhorn would be air conditioned and the Mountain evening air would be cool.

Appa’s vision of the American West comes from John Wayne movies. The Buckhorn Exchange, 130 years in the same building next year, hosted many famous men of the Wild West era like Buffalo Bill Cody and Wild Bill Hitchcock.

Founded by a German family, it has, I only tumbled to this yesterday, the feel of an old world Germanic hunting lodge. And, in fact, all the stuffed animals died under the guns of the founding family.

We also learned from our knowledgeable waitress that during Prohibition you could order Pumpernickel Bread. A whole loaf would be brought to the table and inside it would be a bottle of whiskey.

My son, Appa, and I had the special, Elk and Buffalo tenderloin, while Seoah and Umma had beef tenderloin. Appa cleaned his plate and ate some of Umma’s as well.

A fitting final evening meal in Colorado. Seoah’s sister’s family stayed behind, finishing off the gyros from Monday’s way too much for one night supper. They had been surprised by how much they had been spending. Even with a weaker dollar, the won to dollar conversion is not favorable so the actual cost of things snuck up on them. An easy mistake to make your first time out of your own country.

Asia, Colorado, Family, Fourth Phase, Korea, Tarot, Travel

The Fourth Day

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Ruth and Gabe. Georgetown Loop Railroad. Appa and Umma. Dongoon. Min Yun. Her husband. Their daughter. Seoah’s brother. My son and Seoah. A family knitting itself together. Slowly. Slowly. Beau Jo’s pizza. Swimming. Hawai’i. Shadow, too many people, too many changes.

front: Dongoon, his sister, Min Yun, Back: l-r Seoah’s brother, Seoah, my son, me, Min Yun’s husband, Appa, Umma at my house

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Blended families

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Ahavah. Love.

Tarot: Six of Stones, Exploitation*

One brief shining: A young Korean boy with round wire glasses talking about how humans got bigger brains, a book in Korean with an English title, Origin Stories, on the table between us after the pizza and gyros had been put away, his father stroking his hair.

 

The Jangs:

The gentle, circuitous creation of an Asian American family made up of many disparate persons, places, and experiences.

At first I didn’t understand the Tarot cards I’d been drawing this week.

Perhaps I would have seen this anyway, but possibly not. These cards and this week have opened my eyes to an unusual, slow motion event that has been building ever since Mark and Mary set off for parts unknown over thirty years ago.

Then, Raeone and I adopted my son, a Bengali. Who experienced 9/11 as a freshman in college and shifted his focus from pre-med to a future in the military, defending the country that had given him so much. (his words)

As a result of Mary’s living in Singapore and my desire to see Angkor Wat, resourced by an inheritance from my father, I made my second trip to Asia in 2004. My son, Kate, and I visited Beijing in 1999.

In his Air Force career he took a two year deployment to Korea (do you see an Asian pivot slowly turning our lives?). During his time there he met and married Seoah Jang. They will celebrate their 10th wedding anniversary next year.

I know. But I’m getting there. Kate and I went to my son and Seoah’s wedding in Gwangju. 2016. I officiated. That was the first time I met the Jangs, going to their home in the small village of Okgwa where Seoah grew up. Slowly. Kate and I went on to Singapore after the wedding.

Seoah got stuck here for four months during Covid, unable to return to Singapore where my son had been chosen to attend the Singapore War college. That cemented Kate and mine’s relationship with Seoah as their year in Singapore cemented their relationship with my sister, Mary.

After Kate died, I returned to Korea for five weeks in 2023. I got to know the Jangs again, revisited Okgwa during the fall festival.

Ruth met the Jangs this year in May when she went to Korea to attend my son’s transition to command. Now, only two months later, they’re all here in Conifer.

Slowly. They want to learn English so they can talk to me. I want to see them more because I enjoy their comfort, their warmth, their sense of family.

Seoah wants Ruth and Gabe to consider Dongoon and his sister as cousins. Apparently a primary goal of this trip for Min Yun was for Dongoon and I to talk. Not sure why. Not sure it matters.

The effect has been to lay down, to paraphrase Lincoln, more mystic cords of memory between the United States elements of this widely dispersed family and its Korean members.

We have the chance to become a true international, interracial family. One I want to devote time and resources to nurturing. Seems like a worthy final push before the Hawai’ian sunset.

The left Reverend Doctor Israel Herme Harari