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  • Good for Her Age

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Fall and the Moon of the Thinned Veil

    With Rigel, Andover

    Tuesday gratefuls: Marilyn and Irv. Julie Freshman. Alan. Dr. Palmini on Rigel, “She looks so good for her age.” 13 December 1st. Mark and Mary. Diane. Tom and Roxann. Suffering. Jon, too. Ruth and Gabe. Social Security. Finally responsive. A neon Hermit sign.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: A neon Hermit sign

    Tarot: Two of Wands, Druid. second day in a row…

     

    Ta dah. First. Got through the Lakewood Social Security office phone maze. Tends to drop you out with no warning. Live human! Who empathized and contacted the guy who had my application for spousal benefits. Who in turn said he had adjudicated it that very day and it was “out for payment.” 3-5 business days. We’ll see about that. I started the process in April. April. That’s the last major item of the administrative matters necessitated by Kate’s death. I think.

    Had lunch with Marilyn and Irv Saltzman. Aspen Perks. Their food is better than in the past. We talked philosophy, science, grandkids, mountain living. Good friends. I appreciate the chance to see them regularly.

    Tara and Marilyn, CBE

    Marilyn is the chairperson of the Mountain Resource Center board. A multi-service organization. Lot of poor folks in the mountains. Food bank. Resale store where a lot of Kate’s clothing went. Employment assistance. Counseling. Folks up here who give a damn. Mitzvah. Tikkun Olam.

    Alan chaired the Ovation West board for two years. Rabbi Jamie organized the Interfaith Alliance for Colorado and the Evergreen Homeless shelter. Rich has served on the Special Olympics Colorado board for six years and volunteered for years before that.

    Don’t know about other Beth Evergreeners but I’m sure there are many other examples. I know Nancy Friedman puts out a weekly e-mail of political action opportunities for the liberal to radical crowd. Activist Annie is, well, as she names herself. Luke actively advocates for LGBT issues.

    Engaged. Caring. Jewish. At least at Beth Evergreen those words all mean the same thing.

    Admitted to Marilyn and Irv I’m fed up with having to think about the corona virus. And, feel like I’m too cautious about it. Canceling my trip to Minnesota, for example. Yet. This lung stuff with the paralyzed diaphragm. Not sure how to weigh benefits and risks. Caution trumps it all. I’m no adrenaline junkie, but neither do I consider myself risk averse. I wanna get out and do stuff. But. I don’t wanna die yet. Damn it.

    Zoom appointment yesterday with Julie Freshman, an insurance broker who handles medicare advantage plans. Believe she’s found a different version of the plan I currently have, AARP Secure Advantage, that will work better for me. She’s also found a newly opening medical practice in Evergreen that will be taking new patients and will take my insurance. No more drives into the deep south of the Denver burbs for primary care. Will start in January. Julie is a sweetheart and smart. I liked her a lot.

    Young Rigel and Vega, Andover

    Finished that call. Loaded Rigel in Ruby and drove to Sano. She has bumps and lumps on her back, sebaceous cysts. A skin condition, seborrhea, too. Antibiotics. Expensive blood panel to check on infection, other possible triggers for the seborrhea as well as her liver function. She takes twice a day carprofen (doggy tylenol) for the severe arthritis in her right rear leg. Palmini thinks she may have a slipped disc as well.

    Each time he’s seen her over the last year plus Palmini’s remarked on how good she looks for such an old dog. I can still see the puppy in her sometimes. She’s got a will to thrive, loves chasing things still, eats well, and keeps me warm. Last night she was on one side of me and Kep on the other. A three mammal night.

    That was the day. A lot in it for this guy.

    Deb and Dave, owners of On the Move Fitness

    Frustrated with myself though. Not leaving time for exercise. Missed last Friday and now Monday. I don’t exercise on the weekend. Important to both my physical and mental health. Sorta decided I would take responsibility now for my own workouts. Planning them, learning them, changing them when necessary. Used to do this, but got in the personal trainer habit after my knee surgery in 2016.

    I liked Dave and Deb, appreciated their encouragement and their friendship. Dave died last June of glioblastoma. Covid put some distance between Deb and me. Reminded me that I could do this for myself, too. Kate and I had personal trainers off and on, but I followed my own path the years just prior to our move to Colorado. Back to that now.

    Torah and the Stars at 10 am. Focusing on the Kabbalistic side of astrology. A brave old world. New to me, this tarot/astrology domain. Opening slowly. Learning.

     

     

     

     

     


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  • Grief calling to grief

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    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.

     

     

     


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  • Fourth Phase Life

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Fall and the Moon of the Thin Veil

    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.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Roadtrip!

    Tarot: Ace of Pentacles

     

    Daniel stained my whole house in just over a day. A sweet man. The 3M window coverings reminded me of St. Paul, of the Twin Cities. Alvin, his partner yesterday, took down my blue lights. Think I’m gonna leave’m down. Lots of neighbors complaining about lights ruining the dark Sky, a true Mountain amenity. They’re not wrong. Does mean I gotta dig out the box of solar lights I ordered. I need something to identify our house at night. So easy to drive right past it.

    January 2020

    On Monday, Coyote HVAC. Then, choosing between bids for remodeling the kitchen. Probably won’t happen until later in the year. May seem strange, my doing all these things, spending a bunch of money. Not to me. They represent another phase of grief, one in which I celebrate what Kate and I had together while creating my fourth phase life. Hence, I’m enhancing the house she found and in which we shared our last years together.

    Got a note from the Assistance Fund, the one that pays down my copay for Orgovyx from $800 a month to $10. I have to reapply for coverage on December 1st. Won’t miss that deadline.

    Greg Lell, owner of the painting company, came by yesterday to get his check. We got to talking. He was, he said, a dairyCatholic.* He ran the words together. His parents figured out a three to four year gap system that resulted in six siblings for him, and, crucially, a new farm hand growing into the job as one left it. Oddly, he has a distinctive Texas accent, but he grew up in Colorado. Over 15 years in Texas he began to sound like a native.

    Many Woolly brothers, Tom, Mark, Paul, have decided not to attend the retreat. Excellent reasons, probably ones that apply to me, but I need to get outta here, get on the road, be somewhere else. Not new, forty years a Minnesotan, but also not Colorado.

    Largest wood fired kiln in the U.S. Bresnahan in sportcoat

    I will be staying in retreat lodging at St. John’s Monastery in Collegeville. I have done retreats there before and visited many times. The ceramic urn which holds Kate’s ashes came out of the Johanna Kiln, shaped by Richard Bresnahan from clay dug not far from the monastery. The firing of the Johanna Kiln is a major event as it’s a dragon kiln with several bays snaking up a hillside. When it’s firing, volunteers feed split Wood into its firebox 24 hours a day until the ceramics finish their ordeal. Maybe I’ll finally buy a teapot.

    Drew the Ace of Pentacles this morning. The aces are potential, the essence of their suit. Pentacles represent mother earth, malkut, this world, this physical world. In many cases this card may signal success in business, an inheritance, making progress in a career. It also can suggest deep peace, well being in this world. Feeling calm.

    As I’ve entered this new phase of grieving, a great calm has settled within me. A deep peace. I’m more in my life than regretting, mourning Kate’s death. As I said yesterday, my life with her is the foundation for this phase, what I’m calling my fourth phase. I’m modeling this fourth phase idea on the Hindu life phase of renunciation and a focus on the spiritual.

    The Ace suggests I’m on the right path. Let’s call it a new ancientrail. Though the road that led here connects to it, this ancientrail has made a sharp turn toward the West, toward the setting Sun. It is the final phase of life and one I want to walk intentionally. To walk it like a Celtic Christian saint. Peregrenatio.

    *Yes, I did mention the other dairyCatholic I know, Mr. Bill!


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  • My Cauldron

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Fall and the waning crescent of the Michaelmas Moon

    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.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The World, #21 of the Major Arcana

    Tarot: The World

     

    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.

    Not sure of much these days. Which suits me just fine. My path has companions worthy of Chaucer. A location worthy of poetry. A destination unknown.

    My ancientrail, my life, has begun to reknit itself, reconstruct. The base of this reknitting? The love and life I had with Kate. Her smile, her laugh, her sharp insights, her deep knowledge and compassion. Her kindness. Not gone, here, right here in my soul. Her hand in mine until the end of time.

    She found this house. She earned most of the money I receive monthly. She encouraged me to leave the ministry and take up writing. We were brave together. Adventurous. We loved each other and left imprints on each other’s souls.

    Now I have to walk this ancientrail without her physical presence. I wish it were not so, but it is. As I put a few touches on the house, learn methods to access the occult, manage my cancer, exercise, spend time with friends, read, write, paint, I’m living forward, not looking backward.

    Changing the house a bit will help me say, yes, this is my place, too. It will never be other than our place, but no ghosts allowed. Only good memories.

    The whole Tarot, Kabbalah, Astrology, Judaism journey has me on a strange side road from that of the skeptic. Where it leads is to mystery, of that I’m sure. How it will affect my life? Unclear. Maybe a lot. Maybe only some. Tincture of time. (a favorite phrase of Kate’s)

    When I came up for closing on this house, October 31, 2014, three Mule Deer Bucks greeted me in the back. We stood with each other for a long time, not moving, seeing each other. After they left, I knew the Mountain Spirits had welcomed Kate and me to their realm. Samain.

    Yesterday, two more came.

     

    They came on a day when Black Mountain was aflame.

    I got up this morning and let Kep out and he chased one of the bucks who had stayed the night. The buck cleared the five foot fence as if it wasn’t there. Kep was pretty damned proud of himself. He never barked.

    Back to that pot. Double, toil and trouble, cauldron burn, cauldron bubble.

     


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  • Blessed Be

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Fall and the Michaelmas Moon

    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.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: L’chaim!

    Tarot:  King of Wands, Druid

     

    Sleeping Beauty Henry Meynell Rheam

    Not sure about my sleep button, but it sure got pushed this week. 9 hours yesterday. Maybe 10 today. Combination. Orgovyx and very, very low testosterone. Working out harder, longer. A calmness in my soul. Colder nights. Really don’t want to sleep this much, but I feel it’s ok for a bit as I adjust to the new drug and the new (really, old) workout intensity.

    Overall energy has improved. Partly due to better sleep, I’m sure. Also, getting used to Orgovyx. Less turmoil in my inner world.

    Bear Creek Design came out yesterday. Mike Rogers, who worked on our bathroom, is a design/build guy. He wants to take down walls, extend the footprint of the kitchen, put in a wall with a fireplace in the former sewing room. Make a “cute breakfast area with a pot belly stove” and finish the large part of the old sewing room into a formal dining room. I doubt I’ll do any of it since I’m spending my remodel money on the mini-splits, but what the hell. Maybe I’ll get a windfall somehow.

    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.

    Metastatic disease. From nothing to advanced prostate cancer in weeks. But. Since that point he has had undetectable PSA tests. Wow. And, when I spoke with him yesterday at one of the high tables in the Muddy Buck, he told me his latest scans have shown no mets anywhere.

    In his first scans they had seen innumerable hits in his lungs and significant disease in his sacrum. All disappeared. Clear. Not gone, dormant, but no longer spreading. Three years. After way more cancer progression than I’ve ever had. Hopeful.

    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.

    Appointment with Kristie, my P.A., today. We’ll look at the numbers from my lab results. Notables are 1.0 PSA (definitely detectable), blood sugar at 98, and high creatinine. This is the future for me. PSA every three months. Blood tests when necessary. Take the meds. Live with cancer. Live. Yes.

    King of wands today. “A need to make important decisions, set goals.” Well, yeah.

    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.

    Four years or so of Kabbalah. Getting intense with the Tarot. Coming back around to Astrology. The brain and heart and soul getting a good workout. Splotches of paint on a new canvas. Can getting back to Jenny’s Dead be far behind?

    from the Shadow Mountain Hermitage, blessed be

     

     


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  • Michaelmas

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Fall and the Michaelmas Moon

    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.

    Sparks of joy and awe: Writing. Michaelmas. Tom and Roxann, anniversary.

    Tarot:  Rebirth, #20 of the major arcana, Druid

     

    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.

    I feel, different. Better. Almost like having awakened. Not woke in the social justice sense, but in the, oh this is what my soul needs to do next sense. Seems like the Tarot and my chart reading with Elisa on Monday and my own feeling that Michaelmas could be the date for a life transition have synched up, said YES.

    Delacroix Eugene: St Michael Defeats the Devil

    I’ve got a few things underway: house staining starting tomorrow and the mini-splits install beginning next Thursday. My Tree of Life Spread class starts on Saturday. I meet with Kristie on Friday. PSA at 1.0. Not quite low enough. Perhaps a kidney issue in the bloodwork panel. We’ll see. Started a new painting. Changed my days, I hope permanently. Looking forward to the Woolly Retreat at the end of this month.

    The loft’s organization makes sense now. Not cluttered. Some more work to do. Still pruning downstairs. Wanting to get further along before snow. Not quite sure how to manage that. But, I’ll figure it out. Back at my workouts and feeling better physically.

    Devil and
    Tom Walker

    Here’s something I got from Elisa on Monday. “I’m a reconstructionist. Just not a Jewish reconstructionist. I’m an MOT (member of the tribe) of Congregation Beth Evergreen and Jamie is my Rabbi.” “Oh,” Elisa’s face lit up in a big smile, “That’s such an Aquarian thing to do. To be in but not of something. And you may decide later that that’s over for you.” “Yes. When I met Kate, I had known for a year or more that I had to leave the ministry. It was over.”

    Since September 23rd, I have drawn the Lady, #3 of the Major Arcana, three times, The Moon, #18, and, today, on Michaelmas, Rebirth, #20. In the last 8 days I’ve drawn 5 Major Arcana. The Lady and the Moon both point toward the anima and the inner world, living into the feminine creative energy, my Yin chi. The rebirth card. Well, that’s another matter and it came on Michaelmas. I consider that more than significant. It’s a clear message.

    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.”

    Meaning: “The Power of the Call. You may have heard the call of the spiritual path you are seeking. Rebirth into a life that is more fully your own. You may have come to a crossroads in your life, and a decision is required that will take you in a new direction.”

    Life has given me no choice. Change or retreat. Grief forces the soul to reconsider its location, its direction, its purpose. Yes, even its calling. I count my grief as having begun on September 28th, 2018, three years ago yesterday. That was the day of Kate’s bleed. The acceleration of her decline.

    From that day forward my life had as its everyday anchor Kate’s medical and emotional and spiritual needs. Not that I could fulfill them all, no, but her gradual physical diminishment meant no day could pass without considering them.

    I took her hand that day, September 28th, and never let go until April 12th of this year. The letting go was so painful, so shocking. Disorienting. Even disfiguring my soul. Nothing abnormal. Mourning. Then, grief and its labyrinth.

    It was as Dante said.

                                                                   

            IN the midway of this our mortal life,
    I found me in a gloomy wood, astray
    Gone from the path direct: and e’en to tell
    It were no easy task, how savage wild
    That forest, how robust and rough its growth,
    Which to remember only, my dismay
    Renews, in bitterness not far from death.

     

    Those caregiving years were not hell. Kate, my love and my soulmate, was still alive; but, they did hold suffering and torture for both of us. When she took that long, last ride, I climbed the mammoth frozen body of the Devil into purgatory. I’m still there, but I can see the sky above me.

    Today I identify with the curly haired boy standing at the exit of an elaborate dolmen. A priest, a Druid perhaps, sounds a trumpet of relief. The journey through the Inferno is complete. Purgatory lies almost behind.

    I can feel the hesitancy in him. The darkness, the strangeness of purgatory still more familiar. The long, long path from that dark Wood more known than what lies ahead.

    Symbols of eternal life, of rebirth, like the Holly and the Mistletoe and the Hare and the triskelion crowd the picture below him.

    Will he step out of the door? Embrace the Hare. I know he wants to. The energy and promise, the possibility of life renewed, remade, reimagined, reconstructed only just ahead.

    He feels, as I do, an expansion in my chest, a lifting of the head, eyes no longer cast down, or around in a worried scan. That feeling, that alone, can propel him out into the sun.

    Let it be so. For him. And, for me.

    St. Michael and the Devil, 16th century Book of Hours

     

     


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  • A Good Day

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Fall and the Michaelmas Moon

    Lady, Druid Deck, #3

    Tuesday gratefuls: Elisa Robyn. My natal chart. Her disquisition. Astrology. Tarot. Kabbalah. periMOT me. Opening myself. Quest labs. Results soon. Flu vaccine. Booster Covid vaccine. Workout in the afternoon. Me caring for me. Second thoughts on the kitchen remodel. We’ll see. Have notified Coyote HVAC that I want to go ahead with the mini-splits. Greg Lell coming Thursday to stain the house.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: My Northern Node.

    Tarot: The Lady, #3 in the major arcana

     

    Dante’s Inferno, Canto I

    A good day yesterday. Down the hill. Lakewood Safeway. Quest Labs. Safeway pharmacy. Lab tests blood draw. Four tubes. Asked the phlebotomist if he was gonna leave enough to drive home on. I could tell by his reaction I wasn’t the first to ask. I’m beginning to get familiar with Quest Labs.

    I had to wait for a half an hour for the pharmacist to finish opening the pharmacy. Then, a jab in the left arm and a jab in the right. Vaccinated. Third time for Covid. Manyeth time for the Flu. Might wear a mask out this year. Flu’s no joke either.

    Drove back up the hill. Stopped at Wendy’s for breakfast. A treat to me for being a good boy. Love their potato fries. Therefore I rarely stop there.

    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!

    Took a nap, then got up and exercised. Decided I may go back to the afternoon workout time. I worked out at 3:30/4:00 pm the whole time we were in Andover. Makes my day work better. Can’t recall now why I stopped. Probably heat in the unairconditioned loft.

    Why I decided to go ahead with the mini-splits. They will make the loft available for afternoon workouts and the house safe for me during allergy season. Not to mention cool. The mini-splits also do some heating. Might solve my upstairs winter heating issues.

    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.

    The Social Security kerfuffle means I may have to go to plan B to pay Greg Lell for the house staining. I’ve counted on the back Social Security payments, from April, but I’m sure having trouble jiggling them loose. They’ll come eventually. Good thing I have a plan B. And, btw, a plan C.

    After my workout was my Zoom session with Elisa Robyn, reacquainting me with my natal chart, explaining its significance and showing me how to synch it with a chart for yesterday. More on this later. It was exciting and overwhelming.

    Merging Tarot, Kabbalah, and Astrology. Strange ground for me, but here I go.

     


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  • A Busy Week

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Fall and the Michaelmas Moon

    Monday gratefuls: Quest lab. Blood draw. PSA. Testosterone. Metabolic panel. CBC. Safeway pharmacy: flu and third Covid push. Down the hill in Lakewood. Closest. Albuterol. Frozen dinners. HVAC, mini-splits. Going ahead. House staining. Starts Wednesday. Bear Creek Design on Thursday. Painting.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Universe. Ohr.

    Tarot:   The Moon, #18 in the major arcana

     

    First blood draw on Orgovyx. A month into the prescription. Blood sugar and triglycerides can both go up. Putting the dipstick in the PSA reservoir, too. And, logically, my testosterone level. I have a, let’s get this blood work done early in the day sorta thing. Expresses my willingness to stay on top of the predatory invasion, stay ahead of it. And to know what’s really going on.

    A bit nervous though not as much as the first time after I finished radiation. Thought, hoped, for a cure then. Not so now. Surveillance, making sure the cancer doesn’t break out of the starvation prison we’re putting it in.

    Gonna hit the Safeway Pharmacy, too. Quest labs has an office in the Lakewood Safeway. There I’ll get, I hope, a flu shot and my third Pfizer push. Doing what I can to stay alive.

    Which I appreciate. That I’m doing those kinda things. Means I’m rolling along with a desire to be here. What I want.

    Quite the week. A chart reading by Elisa Robyn. My CBE astrologer. May take a class with her from Kabbalah Experience. Astrology and the Tarot. Blue Mountain Kitchens to choose kitchen cabinets, counter top, backsplash. Tuesday. Wednesday house staining begins. Thursday Bear Creek Design come out for a kitchen redesign session. Mussar that day, too, and coffee with David, my fellow advanced prostate cancer guy from CBE. After at the Muddy Buck. Alan for lunch on Friday, then Kristie, my oncologists P.A., at 2:30 that day. But wait! There’s more. On Saturday a memorial service for my personal trainer who died of glioblastoma in June of 2020. The first class of my Gates of Light Tree of Life spread course with Mark Horn. Later in the afternoon, Jackie for a hair cut. Whew.

    The next week is calmer.

    Picked the Moon, #18 of the major arcana, again. Deep into feminine mysteries. My anima poked once more.

    Ta. Off for Quest Labs.

     


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  • Mountain People

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Fall and the Michaelmas Moon

    September 14, 2017

    Saturday gratefuls: Coyote HVAC. Bear Creek Design. Bread Lounge. Sourdough bread. Breakfast out. Golden Flame Aspens. Against the Evergreen Lodgepoles. On Black Mountain. That Deer I hit. Hope she’s doing ok. That twelve point Bull Elk and his Gals. The mysterious trail off of Brook Forest Drive. The Mountains. Shadow Mountain.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Max. A tall Sunflower in a Rocky Garden bed. A Dog in the back of an SUV ahead of me, wagging his tail.

    Tarot: going to invent a Harvest Home spread. Will report.

     

    Deviation from the norm. Got up and drove to Evergreen after feeding the Dogs. Didn’t come up to write Ancientrails which is my every morning habit. Why? Wanted to get a Pullman loaf of the Bread Lounge’s Sourdough. They sell out fast. Took my new book, Four Lost Cities. Sourdough French toast, applewood smoked bacon, black coffee. While learning about the reasons civilizations have abandoned their urban centers. Gonna be an interesting read.

    I can do this because I’ve got workout mojo. 4.5 hours this week, M-F. I take the weekends off. Always enjoyed breakfast out, but Kate didn’t. At least not as much as I did. Bittersweet moment when I remembered this as I ate a piece of French toast dipped in syrup. Kate wouldn’t be back home either. How grief sneaks back into your day.

    Reconsidering my estimates for the mini-split system of a/c. Talked to friend David Jordani who installed one in his second home in Evergreen. His first home is in Orono, Mn. Prices were comparable though mine was a bit less. Sticker shock is less now that time has settled on the bids.

    Redo the kitchen and add a/c? Pricey, but why not? If it gets burned up, I’ll rebuild.

    On the drive back from Evergreen I turned off the radio. My usual habit, but I started listening to NPR again. Realized I’d slipped into always on. Not what I want. I noticed the light, small Aspen torches lighting my drive with golden Fire. Rocky outcroppings with brave Lodgepoles clinging to their crevices. Maxwell Creek pummeling the rocks. That mystery trail that seems to disappear into a Canyon.

    Back and forth. Move because it will all be too much for me? Spend money on a nicer, prettier kitchen and a/c? Hunker down in the Shadow Mountain hermitage until death do us part?

    David at Simchat Torah

    A stay here reinforcer. When I went to the Parkside Cafe in Evergreen yesterday for lunch with Alan, I got there before he did. Not unusual for Germanic me. There at an outside table were David Jordani and his son Adam. I greeted them, they invited me to sit down and chat. I did.

    Alan came. David and his wife and Adam have been members of Beth Evergreen here and Beth El in St. Louis Park for quite a while. Spent a good hour batting the conversational shuttlecock.

    I love this casual encounter with people I know. Stopping for ten minutes or an hour, catching up. Seeing each other. My guess is it’s my small town roots. In Alexandria if you went to get gas, buy groceries, pick up a prescription, you’d run into somebody you knew.

    Not on a phone. Not on zoom. Not on purpose.

    Bull and doe, Evergreen Lake, 2015

    Another reinforcer. Driving up Brook Forest, then Black Mountain. Winding around the curves, watching (more carefully) for Deer, Elk, Fox. Smiling at the huge number of cars at Lower Maxwell Falls trailhead. They come up here for the same reason I live here. Upper Maxwell Falls trailhead, much closer to Shadow Mountain, was also full to overflowing. What a nice day to be out in the woods with half of a Denver neighborhood.

    Black Mtn. Drive, toward Evergreen

    Somehow Kate and I became Mountain people. She died here and I belong here now. This is home, where my people are, where the Natural World is close, yet wild.

    So I’ll find my yaktraks for the climb up the loft stairs. I’ll find a snowplower. Get the mini-split system and fancy up the kitchen. Write. Paint. Live until I die.

     


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  • Winter is Coming

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Harvest Home and the Michaelmas Moon

    A Rockies Game. downtown Denver

    Wednesday gratefuls: Jon. Healing, in some ways. Ruth, in Spirit week at her high school. Having fun. Anxious. Gabe, with his first pimple, Nosy. That squash soup I made last year for Kate. Still good, fed us all. Jodi and kitchen ideas. Cold nights. Kep and Rigel beside me.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Autumnal Equinox

    Tarot: Four of Bows, Wildwood

     

    Monday night we had frost. Tricky. Moisture dripped from the garage eve onto the steps up to the loft. Had on my tennis shoes. Not yet winterized, my mind left out the part where that small amount of Water could freeze, become slippery. Especially on the sole of a tennis shoe. Grabbed the railing, steadied myself. Oh, shit. Went to the results of my recent DEXA scan, bone density. Hoping I have enough bone strength to fall and not break something important. Like any bone in my body.

    That Worm. The one about handling this place in the Winter. Bit into the Apple of my paradise. This is something I have to face, deal with. Choose ways and means to keep myself safe and happy. Rigel, too.

    Not a big deal. Yet. And there are options.

    Our house in the early morning, light on Shadow Mountain

    This is where I want to be. Kate’s last Home. Our Mountain Home. I’m willing to think this through, come up with solutions. One of which entails finding somebody to plow my driveway. Starting again on that one this morning.

    Jodi came. She’s from Blue Mountain Kitchens. I want to inspire my cooking. Make the kitchen a place I want to be. Functional, yes. Beautiful, too. Rustic, fit the house, its location. We talked cabinetry, counter tops, backsplash, storage, prep. I liked her. She had some good ideas.

    Next week Bear Creek Designs, who did our downstairs bathroom, putting in stone and tile, creating a zero entry threshold for the shower, comes out. I’ll see what they have to say. I like them, too.

    Lucas Cranach the Elder, Living in Paradise

    Money can answer many of the questions about that Worm. Protect the Apple. And, I have enough. Not more than enough, but enough, to tackle most of the issues.

    Also needing to get strong bodies up here to move furniture. Table from downstairs to the old sewing room. Kate’s recliner up to the living room. Figure out what to do with the big wooden display cabinet and its glassware. The smaller one and its rocks, including the nice gneiss Tom sent me a while back.

    As I often whisper to myself, I’m getting there. Slow and steady. The tortoise. Not the rabbit.

    Jon, Ruth, and Gabe came up last night. Jon has to get Jen to sign the title to the Subaru so he can donate it CPR. This is happening. Very slowly, but it’s happening.

    Andover orchard in winter
    2011, Andover

    Today though is a holiday. Let’s not forget. Mabon. The Autumnal Equinox. The time of the Harvest Moon. The combine contractors are working their way through the Wheat Fields of the Great Plains. Corn pickers are out in Iowa, Indiana, Minnesota, Illinois. Soy bean harvest. Apples in the orchards.

    Those gardens with Squash, last Tomatoes, Beans, Onions, Raspberries, wild Grapes. Wicker and wire gathering containers filled, carried into kitchens. The canning equipment taken down from its high shelves. Oh, what a time. Fresh vegetables and fruit, nuts.

    honey supers after the harvest, 2013

    Mabon is a late name for this harvest holiday: Feast of the Ingathering, Harvest Home, or simply Fall. Meteorologists say Fall when September 1st comes. Most of us still follow the old ways, though we may not think of them that way. Celebrating equinoxes and solstices, in their reversed forms in the Northern and Southern hemispheres, constituted a religious rite in many ancient cultures. Anywhere agriculture followed the seasons: Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter, the Sun and its relation to Earth’s orbit evoked awe and wonder.

    Sukkot, 2016, Beth Evergreen

    No accident that CBE has a sukkah up, open to the sky. A prominent Harvest holiday on the Jewish calendar. And, I learned a year or so ago, once the primary holiday at this time of year, not the High Holidays. Bounty in the form of first Fruits, unblemished Animals came to the Temple in Jerusalem. Sacrifices to the most high god. Think I’ll head over there this evening. Pizza in the hut.

    A week from today we celebrate Michaelmas. The traditional beginning of the academic year in England, the Michaelmas term. The feast day of the Archangel Michael. Tom and Roxann’s anniversary. And, as you’ve often heard me say here, the start of the Springtime of the Soul.

    Guess I’ve had a Jewish sensibility all these years. This does feel like the beginning of a new year to me. I celebrate one at Samain and on January 1st as well. Multiple new years. Multiple opportunities to examine life. In fact, I think I’ll do a Fall Tarot spread to see what this wondrous season has in store for me.

     

     


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