• Category Archives Dogs

  • Gloomy inner weather

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Winter and the Wolf Moon

    Wednesday gratefuls: Safeway pickup. Safeway pharmacy. Urology Associates. Prostate cancer. Metastases. Erleada. Orgovyx. The Post Office. Kep, who finds his way. Slowly. Diane. Tom. Interlocutors. Alan. Tomorrow. The Ancient Brothers. Early rising. 5:30 am. Omicron booster. Writing over a thousand words a day. How To Become A Pagan and Ancientrails. Snow on its way. Dropping temperatures. My new weather station.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Erleada, keeping the metastases in check.

     

    Read the clinical notes of my radiation oncologist, Dr. Simpson. Starts out: patient with metastatic prostate cancer. Not sure why but it nicked me this time. That phrase. Especially metastatic. That’s me. I have a cancer that has metastasized. A bit later I got the bill for the P.E.T. scan. $1,000 bucks. Then, tried to roll up the rug in my new home office. Too much. I’d waited too late in the day. Result: gloomy mental weather.

    After that I went to Safeway. Pushed outside my comfort zone ( my mussar practice this month) and went inside to get an omicron booster and pick up a prescription for a drug that had run out early. You have to make an appointment for a booster. I didn’t have to the last time. We’ve always done it this way. I’m here; can’t you just go ahead? No. Sigh. Got in line, 8 people. When I got there. Can’t fill it. Your insurance company says not till January 2nd. Well, fuck it.

    So much for pushing past the comfort zone. By the time I got home with my groceries. Which I was able to accomplish. In a funk. Box breathing. Unclench jaw. Damn it. None of this is a big deal. Well, the cancer. Yeah. But that’s not new.

    Made myself some eggs, sopped them up with French bread. Righted the ship after a no good, but not really very bad day.

    I write this to illustrate how easy it is to get off course with a nick here, a nick there. Good to have some tools. Forgot the How do I feel exercise. But. I did do notice five things. A traffic sign. The Grass. Conifer High School. The pavement. Lovely clouds. And my version of box breathing. Breathe in four counts. Hold for seven. Blow out for eight. Repeat. Activates the vagus nerve. And, take some action. Made myself dinner. Calmed down.

    Chesed. Loving kindness. Not just for the other. For yourself as well. Equanimity is a middah, too. Bringing oneself back into balance. I try to remember to show compassion for myself when I get in these spots. Don’t always remember because the feelings, the downer ones, can dominate. For a while. I also try to bring myself back into balance, realize the context, get a perspective on my mood. Can take as long as a day. Sometimes only a few minutes. Yesterday was in between.

    This drag happens much less these days. Hardly at all. Yet. When the blues strike ya, you gotta do somethin’.

     

    Which reminds me. If you haven’t seen the Muscle Shoals documentary on Netflix, I recommend it. Highly. A small town in Alabama with a big influence on popular music. Who recorded there? Percy Sledge. Wilson Pickett. Aretha Franklin. The Rolling Stones. Duane Allman. Lynyrd Skynyryd. Bob Dylan. Bono. Etta James. Clarence Carter. Bobby Gentry. Kris Kristofferson. Steve Winwood and Traffic. Alabama. Paul Anka. Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel. Bob Seger. Leon Russel. Otis Redding. Rod Stewart. And a whole lot of others.

    Worth it for the inspiration.


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  • So much to see. To learn.

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Winter and the Wolf Moon

    Tuesday gratefuls: 8 years in Colorado. On the Solstice. The long dog ride with Tom. Memories. Challenges. Family. Death. Divorce. Mental and physical illnesses. Beauty. The Rocky Mountains. The Wild Neighbors. Mountain hiking. Deep snow. Sudden. Then, suddenly gone. Living at altitude. Becoming a member of CBE. Elk and Mule Deer visiting our back. Blue Skies. Black Mountain. Vega. Gertie. Rigel. Kep. Kate, always Kate. Who loved the Mountains.

    Sparks of joy and awe: That dog ride 8 years ago. Talking story.

     

    Back of the car anthropology. Two vanity plates. YAHWEHS. ODACIOUS. The first on a jet black fancy Audi. The other on a Lexus sedan. Also. Stickers. I heart Aging and Dying. No baby on board. Feel free to ram me. Toyoda. With yoda ears on the T and the a. I love the way we express ourselves on the back of our vehicles. So revealing. Full disclosure. I have a large decal of Lake Superior on the back window of Ruby. And, an ADL Dissent is Patriotic on a side window. There are too the cars seemingly held together by stickers like the occupants got started on the project and just. couldn’t. stop.

     

    On December 20th, 2014 Tom Crane and I loaded Rigel, Vega, and Kep in Ivory. All three trazodoned. Tom drove straight through. We talked the whole way. Talking story. The conversation continues now, eight years later. Gertie rode with Kate in the rental van filled with stuff we didn’t want the movers to take. I remember Kate telling me she bought Gertie a hamburger at one of their stops. A satisfied dog.

    These have not been easy years. No. They have been fulfilling, satisfying years though. Deep intimacy between Kate and me, especially as she began her long decline. Putting cancer in the chronic illness box. Being here for the kids and Jon after the divorce. Now for Ruth and Gabe after Jon’s death. Becoming part of the CBE community. Making friends. Learning from the ancient civilization of the Jews. Kabbalah. The Torah. Mussar. Talmud. Mitzvahs.

    The Wild Neighbors. The Mountains. The Streams. The hiking. Mountain adjustments. Four Seasons. Eight Seasons. The Mountain Fall. Golden Aspens. Against green Lodgepoles. Black Mountain punctuated with gold, then green. Snow flocked in Winter. Wildflowers in the Mountain Spring. Fawns. Kits. Cubs. Elk and Moose Calves. The long Summers. Beautiful in their own right, yet also angsty with the ever present threat of Wildfire.

    Living here has been, is an adventure. In relationships. In deep learning. An immersion in the world of Mountains. After the world of Lakes and Rivers and rich Soil.

    So much more to see. To learn.

     

    Visited Carmax yesterday. The Jeep. Prepared to sell it, then Uber home. A first for me. But. Can’t take a North Carolina power of attorney. Colorado makes it difficult. Do you want me to get you the necessary papers? Yes. Talked to Sarah while the nice lady in the blue Carmax smock did that. Took fifteen minutes. Many pieces of paper. Post it notes. Sign here stickers. OK. Thanks. Back up the hill.

     

    Got two calendars as presents.  Aimed at different parts of me. A Zen Calendar from Tom. A New Yorker Cartoons calendar from Sarah and Jerry. Yep. I recognize both of those guys as resident within me. Wonderful to be seen.

     

     


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  • A day with Ruth

    Posted on by Charles 1 Comment

    Winter and the Wolf Moon

    Sunday (Christmas) gratefuls: The gift of incarnation. Of life. In Ruth. In Kep. In the Lodgepoles. In the Water of Maxwell Creek. In the Stone of Shadow Mountain. In the life sustaining Air. In the powerful Fire. In the rich and ever giving Soil. In my own body. A visit with Ruth. Colorado Springs. Pine Valley Road. North Fork of the South Platte. Woodland Park. The Rescue Mission in the underbelly of Colorado Springs. The rickety houses in the neighborhood around it. All those cracks where the light comes in.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ruth

     

    Two decisions. Neither major. Took a while. Should I go the safe route down to Colorado Springs. 470 to I-25. Or take the beautiful Pine Valley Road and risk having my AWD malfunction light come on, return me to front wheel drive? Maybe something worse? Should I take Kep again with me to see Ruth? He seemed to enjoy it. Or should I leave him at home and come back to a puddle or two? Fussed with them for a while. Longer than I needed to. Miss having a second voice here. Kate’s.

    Took Pine Valley Road and left Kep in the new dining room with the door closed to the rest of the house. Called Susan Taylor and paid her to come feed him at 2 pm, stay with him for a while to let him in and out a few times. No puddles. A happy Kep when I returned. Yay.

    The Pine Valley Road had more up and down, more curves than I remembered. More snow than I expected. Beautiful. Minnesota driving skills made it easy peasy. The North Fork of the South Platte which carves the valley was no longer frozen over, running cold over Stones and around sweeping bends. No fly fisherman like there would have been on a more clement Saturday. Flash flood warning signs near Cheeseman Reservoir, one of the big ones for the city of Denver. Not visible from the switchbacks that take the road past it.

    A journey of Mountains and Streams, landscapes with Mountains in the distance. Pikes Peak among them. The Pike National Forest. Campgrounds. Those National Forest Service signs. A series of curves with signs: Motorcyclists exercise extreme caution! Little traffic. Past Decker. Eventually into Woodland Park. A Mountain town ready for the tourist dollar.

    Into Colorado Springs the back way past Manitou Springs where the Pikes Peak Cog Railroad chugs up the Mountain. Got a little turned around and found the raggedy edge of the Springs. Shotgun houses with cars and appliances permanently parked around them. A brave Rainbow flag flying graced one. Maybe three blocks. Then a have to left turn which took me past the Rescue Mission as the men, all men as far as I could see, were leaving the building for a day on the streets. Some stopping, conversing. Others trudging on toward their spots or their camps. Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Yeah.

     

    Found Ruth. Juniper building. A phone on the wall. Punched 0 for the receptionist. A voice, very faint. yes. Here to see Ruth Olson. what. Ruth Olson. I know, but she has a pass. oh. Finally two women came. Here for Ruth? She’s very excited. Such a sweet girl. Yes, I agree. A very sweet girl.

    She came out wearing one of Kate’s jackets. A thin one. Would later complain of being cold. A big smile and a hug. I’m leaving the building with no techs! She shook her head in amazement. Her first pass since she got there the Friday before Thanksgiving.

    In the car we made plans. Limited plans. It was Christmas Eve and all the museums were closed. And there were a lot of museums. The Zoo? Too cold. She opened all her Hanukah presents. Happy with Smart Wool socks, the notebook from Annie, the oil paints from Sarah and Jerry, the chocolate I brought her. A kiddie moment for a too soon mature 16 year old going on 30.

    Food? Yeah, I’m hungry. Sushi? Yeah. I know a place. I asked Alexis. We found Uri sushi. In the hood, Alexis said. A pretty upscale hood imho. Wonderful sushi. Alexis was right about that. We had the sashimi combo and three rolls. Ruth ate. Happy to be out of the hospital. In a restaurant on her own with only her grandpop. No staff. No walls. No fences. No two sliding gates to get in and out.

    Next out to Anthony’s Nails in the upscale Briargate Mall. You know. Lululemon. Anthropologie. Boutique clothing stores. An Apple store. That sort of thing.

    A mani-pedi for both of us. Ruth took control. I’ll talk to them. She told them what I wanted, then went to the three bookshelf sized collection of colors to choose a gel for her toes and one for her fingers. A pinkish silver and a sparkly black. A petite Vietnamese woman with an elf hat on came to me and we walked back to the pedicure chairs.

    If you’ve never done this, pedicure chairs are something. Many have massage rollers in the chairback. Mine did not. They do have a throne like feel. The person receiving the pedicure sits high up above the person working on their feet. Somewhat Jesus like it just occurred to me. There’s a small plastic lined bathtub for your feet into which hot to warm water pours.

    My elf hatted lady opened her rolling container of tools, taking out nail clippers. Ruth sat beside me. This place was fancy. Two rows of pedicure chairs the length of the store with the nail stands in the middle. A water feature in the back. White columns separating the ranks of six pedicure chairs from each other. A bar up front with mineral water, a water tank filled with lemons and apple slices. Even liquor.

    I had on a Vermont Flannel shirt and jeans. Ruth had on Kate’s old jacket and black sweat pants. We were not dressed for the occasion. Made it a bit more fun.

    We continued our conversation begun over sushi while the two women cut our nails, pushed back the cuticles, trimmed and massaged our feet. Ruth was more open and more clear than she had been. Much less defensive. We spoke about her Dad, family counseling sessions. Her visits to equine therapy and the therapy dogs. The other folks in her building. Their antics.

    The next stop was to be a bookstore, but Ruth remembered the Garden of the Gods. We drove there. I’ve never been. We didn’t get out. Again, too cold and grandpop was getting tired. Shards of red rock let alone, spread out from each other. Tall and majestic. Balancing rock which Ruth remembered climbing as a little girl.

    The road through Garden of the Gods ends near Manitou Springs, another Mountain town ready for the tourist dollar. We decided to drive through it since Ruth had never seen it. I pointed out a person in costume. That’s not just a costume, grandpop. That’s a furry. Oh. I’m gonna tell everybody when I get back that I saw a furry. Well, we all have our ways to hide.

    We did find the bookstore. Not the one Ruth wanted, but the Springs branch of Tattered Covers, the most well known Denver bookstore. We wandered through it pointing at books we’d read. Have you read this? No. Oh, this is wonderful. Yes, I liked it too.

    At that point Ruth had worn out and I was ready to head home. I signed her back in at 6 pm, left the sliding wire gates behind me and drove back to Shadow Mountain and Kep.


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  • An Afternoon Sadness

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Samain and the Holimonth Moon

    Tuesday gratefuls: Tor. Orion. Kate, always Kate. The morning Sun on the Lodgepoles. Kep outside at 3 am, wandering. Trump referred for criminal prosecution. And, probably not for the last time. Merry Christmas. Congress funds the government. Gabe and his legos. Ruth. Hanukah. The 2nd day. Those Maccabees. Tom and the Winter Solstice. The World Cup. F1. Baseball. The MLB ticket. Sports. Waiting on the Cold Air. Grief. Sadness.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Tor

     

    Yesterday afternoon. Back to pruning. Clearing off the wire shelving in Kate’s former sewing room. The last of her stuff still untouched. A long rectangular box. Heavy. Lifted it off the top shelf. Tor. Oh. Shot to the heart. Tor my beautiful boy. A wheaten Irish Wolfhound. Friend to Orion. Our last two I.W.’s. Petting him each night before I went to bed thinking I wanted to touch him one last time alive. He had a bad heart and dropped dead in the area behind our Andover garage. Oh.

    Clearing off some of Kate’s stuff I found a note from a reunion, a classmate’s after message. Loved being pulled down for a second kiss. I’m afraid I disappointed Kate. Not as passionate as she was.

    Tor’s ashes and that note coming right after hit me pretty hard. Grief and regret. There are some things you cannot fix. Felt like a punch to the chest. An hour plus later. Still sad.

     

    Going into the great darkness tomorrow. Perhaps appropriate. Fated. The dark night, the longest night. Since the summer solstice, we’ve lost a little light each day. Till now the days are short and the nights dominant. A Great Wheel time to be sad. For sadness. For inner work. For falling down the Great Well of inner space. Until. Until. We hit the world ocean of the collective unconscious. Swim in those waters.

    All the mourners slip down that Great Well for a time. Return to it when they lift a favorite dog’s ashes off a shelf unknowingly. Are reminded of their shortcomings as a partner. Other feelings rush into the space. Shame. Loss. Anger. Abandonment. Fear.

    Waiting for the light. Which comes. Not in the Spring. But on the day after tomorrow. As the days grow longer, bit by bit. So does clarity about these emotions. Set them in the context of life, of flawed humanity. No I was not all that Kate wanted, but I was much of what she needed. As she was for me.

    These moments have become rare, but not gone not completely. Love is a many splintered thing and grieving its loss one of the most complicated acts in life. No, that’s not right. Love is never lost. Grieving the loss of the beloved. The tactile mutuality. Sitting across the table talking. Lying in bed together. Visiting other nations, other cultures. Together across years and decades. That’s what’s lost.

    The descent into darkness and the gradual return of the light. A fundamental message of the Great Wheel. A message of life-death-life-death-life and again as long there is time and life. Before the Sun goes red giant. Until.

    Happy Hanukah and a very Merry Christmas.

     

     


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  • Wild

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Samain and the Holimonth Moon

    Sunday gratefuls. Erev Hanukah. Gabe. Deciding which presents to open first. Avatar: Water. Pakeha. Cold weather coming. Kep. His blind life. Beau Jo’s pizza. Gabe’s teenage boy appetite. Rabbi Jamie’s adult class on Hanukah. The death of P-22. Vince and Frank Zappa. Kep on the grippy rug. That red alert call at 2 am. For the wrong city. Wellington Paranormal. Next to last episode.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: A grandson’s love

     

    The death of P-22. This article in the LA Times tells the story of P-22. In case you didn’t know it. A Mountain Lion that wandered into Griffith Park after crossing several freeways ten years ago P-22 became, as LA seems to require, a celebrity. Here’s another article about P-22 in the Washington Post.

    Beth Pratt, regional executive director of the National Wildlife Federation said:

    “I sat near him, looking into his eyes for a few minutes, and told him he was a good boy,” wrote Pratt, who said goodbye to P-22 before he was euthanized. “I told him how much I loved him. How much the world loved him.”

    And, quoted later in the article: “He changed the way we look at L.A. And his influencer status extended around the world, as he inspired millions of people to see wildlife as their neighbors…”

    I understand. Here in the Mountains our wild Neighbors continue to evoke awe and wonder no matter how long your residency. Driving yesterday Gabe and I saw more than fifteen Mule Deer at various points along the road. The rule in the Mountains is this. Where there are Deer there are Mountain Lions. I’ve never seen one though Kate did.

    Coming home from MVP Wednesday night I saw a flash of light, slowed and saw a healthy Red Fox gazing at me from the hillside. As I drove home, I thought about him slipping into the night Forest on the hunt. We humans are diurnal, sleeping at night and active in the daytime (most of us anyhow. though the electric light has altered our behavior a lot.) The nighttime Forest is difficult for us navigate. Dr. Astrov from Uncle Vanya, “You know how, when walking in the Forest at night, when you see a light you forget the darkness and your fatigue, the thorny branches hitting you in the face…” Many fairy tales have their story set in the dark Woods.

    Mountain Lions are crepuscular hunters, dawn and twilight. Ambush predators they lie in wait on rocky outcropping or on a tree branch. As P-22 did, Mountain Lions will eat pets. A Dog run up here without a top? Box lunch.

    Our wild Neighbors throughout the World remind us of the thin veneer we have created with civilization. The Arctic cold slumping south this next week may highlight this again in south Texas. Remember the sudden crisis in the Texas electrical grid in February of 2021? Bet it’s not fixed.

    We fantasize ourselves as separate from the lives of our wild Neighbors, but that’s all it is. Fantasy. Without the roof and walls of our homes, the heating or cooling they provide, the provisions available in grocery stores, without electricity or gas or fuel oil. Back to nature. Without my motorized chair or a pedal powered bicycle Denver is as far away for me as it is for that Black Bear I saw this summer.

    Dystopian movies and novels, of which there have been many as we head toward a possible Climate apocalypse, foreshadow the survivalists nightmare come true. And that nightmare is. A return to the Wild.


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  • Ruth and Gabe

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Samain and the Holimonth Moon

    Sunday gratefuls: Ruth at Cedar Springs. Colorado Springs. Pikes Peak. Garden of the Gods. I-25. Gabe, on himself. A long drive. Getting lost. Kep, having a good time on the road. Sleeping in the bedroom last night. Ruby losing her AWD. Then getting it back? Family. People happy I’m staying here. Preparing for some more moving in the house. That mortgage at 3%. This house, this home, this Hermitage. Herme. Lit daily.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ruth, her journey to self knowledge

     

    Struggled to get Kep in the car. Neither one of us are as strong as we used to be. Got it done though. He panted nervously. Eventually laid down, grew calm. Picked up Gabe at his mom’s, then headed down I-225 to I-25, all south toward Colorado Springs.

    Colorado Springs. Where Ruth has spent the last three weeks at Cedar Springs Hospital. She says it’s a good place for her. We took Kep out of the car so she could see him. Couldn’t tell if he remembered her or not. His cues as to who’s who seem blunted.

    This hospital has an iron gate around its whole campus. The gates open only one car at a time and there are at two gates. The main building is older brick in the style of institutional gothic. The newer buildings have mid-to-late twentieth century school architecture. Buff brick, single story. A slightly conical roof. Glass entrance doors.

    Ruth told me there is an acute hospital in the building next to her for adults and young children. Her building, Juniper, is only teenagers. Next to it is a third building which houses the school and an adult residential unit. Therapy dogs come regularly as do therapy horses, sheep and goats.

    It all seems grim to me, but Ruth likes her therapist and says she’s doing better. She’s learning guitar, reading a lot, making art with markers. They’re also trying to recalibrate her meds. Find a mix that works for her.

    She will be there into January. I’m going to see her on December 24th which happens to be the last night of Hanukah as well as Christmas Eve. She’ll get a pass and we’ll go out into Colorado Springs, find some things to do, have a meal. Visitation is only on Saturdays and for one hour on Tuesday evening. Without a pass Saturday visits have a 2-4 pm limit. Ruth got tired, so Gabe and I left at 3:30. She lost sleep last night due to the readjustments of her meds.

    It was good to have the ride down and back with Gabe. We had long conversations. School mostly. He has actual ringlets, his hair is long. With a touch up for side curls he could be a Hasidic Jew. He’s grown a good bit over the last six months, maybe over 5 feet at last.

    He says he’s popular but doesn’t know why. He has good friends. Seems steady. Has no idea where he’s headed in terms of education. Sandoval High where he and Ruth go is a STEM school. He enjoys biology, putting things under a microscope. Photography. He’s also learning guitar. Dork. That’s his self-description. Yet. He also says others say he’s self-confident. He is. Probably why he’s popular.

    He loves muscle cars. Would I please buy him a 1968 Mustang? Here’s one for only $25,000. Shows me his phone. No.

    When Kep and I got back to the Mountain, Kep jumped out of the back, landed gracefully. I could tell he had a good time. He carried himself with more pizazz.

    Two hours down. Two hours there. Two hours back in heavy traffic at night. I was pretty tired. Getting back to the much less hectic pace of Shadow Mountain was a distinct relief.


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  • Cancer Today

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Samain and the Holimonth Moon

    Saturday gratefuls: Tom. Ruth. Diane. Mary. Mark. Alan. Jen. The Night Sky. Each Star. Each Galaxy. All the Dark Matter. The mysterious and ineffable Universe. Life. All my wild Neighbors. Kristie. My P.E.T. scan. The Ancient Brothers. Kep. Finding his way. By feel at times. The House on Shadow Mountain. Herme. Family. Friends. This Day, this amazing unique Day.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Blood

     

    P.E.T. scan. Kristie and I talked late yesterday. It was a little confusing, but my big takeaway from it was that the news was good. Compared to the axumin scan I had last year almost all the sites that had uptake of the tracer showed what she referred to as healed cancer. There were no new areas of concern though one spot near my left hip and one spot of my T3 vertebrae did have uptake which means active cancer. This confused me a bit because I didn’t remember any spot on my spine being of concern after the axumin scan. Might have forgotten, or not been told.

    I also say confusing because I don’t know what healed cancer means. Kristie said she thought of it as cancer cells that have been starved to the point of inaction. As long my testosterone is low they will not be able to reignite.

    I don’t know what they’re going to want to do about the two sites of still active cancer. Might be radiation. I’ll have a call with Dr. Simpson again. He’s the radiation oncologist. The other option would be to continue letting the Erleada do its work. It has improved my situation a lot over the last year. See if it can knock out or down these remaining active sites. Maybe there’s an option I don’t know about.

    Drug holiday. In 9 months or so I will be taken off both Erleada and Orgovyx. This is because being on them too long means my cancer might develop resistance to them. During the drug holiday my testosterone will return and the “healed” cancer cells will once again have a food source. Kristie said sometimes patients are off the drugs for years before the PSA rises. Sometimes months. Very individual. Not predictable.

    Anyhow. That’s the cancer story as it stands today on the third day of Advent 2022.

     

    Yesterday was a busy day. Talked to Tom in the AM. In the creativity class my How to Become a Pagan was a hit. As I said yesterday, you can read it on the Reimagining Faith page of this blog. Made me feel good. Pumped me up for my writing. A priority for me.

    Lee from Morris Autobody brought the Jeep back. And I drove him back to his shop. You may remember Lee from my conversation with him about the problems in his business.

    Ruth called but the connection was never made. I called her back. The same. Kristie’s nurse, Michelle, called and asked if I could reschedule till Monday. No. I want to know the result of that scan. Mark called me and Mary wanted to zoom. All of this communication happened over the space of an hour and a half.

    Leave for breakfast with Alan at 8:30. The Parkside. A slow weekend. Looking forward to it. House chores to get started. Groceries. R&R.

     

     


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  • Unwinding my pessimism

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Samain and the Holimonth Moon

    Saturday gratefuls: Gabe. Jon, a memory. Kate, always Kate. Ruth. Jen. Kep, the one who gets me up. Alan and  Tom. The changing Moon. The constant Sun. Black Mountain, my stolid friend. Steady. Maxwell Creek, mover of Mountains. Orion’s return. Artemis I. The Land Institute. The Sanctuary. Democrats. Republicans. Independents. USA. Soccer. The World Cup. Formula 1. Book: Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Poem: The Second Coming. Movie: The original Invasion of the Body Snatchers

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Road trip to Colorado Springs

     

    Up a bit late yesterday. Thanksgiving was fun, but it wore me out. Even with my thyroid hormone back to normal I still have no testosterone and chemo. And, I suppose, I’m 75, too. As things are.

    Talked to Tom at 8 am. Afterward I worked out, getting my minutes in for the week. 166 after yesterday. 150 is my minimum and I hit it every week unless something dramatic intervenes. Makes me feel good in the moment and later about self-care.

    Lunch with Alan. He and Cheri have decided to move into Denver. A neighbor’s house burned down in August. Had the previous owner not been diligent about fire mitigation there’s would have gone down with it. The final piece of evidence Cheri needed to push forward. She’s convinced folks who live up here, like me, will not be able to insure our houses in five years. She’s a bright woman who worked in insurance. Good thing I’m outta here before that. Not really sure I believe it anyhow.

    Back home. Wrapped up that Bose Wavesystem 4 I bought off Amazon, a real deal, and shipped it back. The damned thing either wouldn’t play a CD or wouldn’t load them. It did display READING DISC well though. Back to the internet to find something to play my CD’s. I know it’s ancient technology and now long superseded by blue tooth, but I like my collection. And, yes, I have a good blue tooth speaker for my phone and laptop to use. Just stubborn, I guess.

    Afterward I joined millions in the U.S. for a black Friday tradition. No, not that one. I ate leftovers. Had a chunk of tenderloin and a good deal of a relish tray brought by Jen and Barb. When you live alone you can eat odd meals like that and no one’s there to comment on it.

    Enjoying Wednesday, a limited series on Netflix. I liked the Addams family when it was on many years ago and I’ve enjoyed many of Tim Burton’s films. Jenna Ortega, new to me but not to tween Disney fans, has a wonderful sardonic presence leavened with caring. Tough acting. Said the now two acting classes experienced very amateur actor.

     

    In other news, this disturbing story. At Protests, Guns Are Doing the Talking: Armed Americans, often pushing a right-wing agenda, are increasingly using open-carry laws to intimidate opponents and shut down debate. NYT today

    Had not thought about this. It’s a logical extension of the fetishization of guns and the 2nd amendment. Not sure whether there’s a legal argument against it. A chilling effect on free speech should have some weight as should some domestic terrorism laws. Shouldn’t they?

    Hate to say it but there may need to be a martyr or two before this issue becomes heated enough for some political action.

    After some thought last week (see my posts about Ezra Klein and Pippa Norris) and after Tom introduced me to the Chrysalis Effect by Phillip Slater, I’ve begun to unwind my pessimism about the future. Yes, even in light of this story and in some ways because of it. I now believe this is a transient phenomenon, this right wing, armed fear. The transient period may be long, perhaps decades, but we will age out of it and into a world dominated by Gen Z, Ruth and Gabe’s generation. They have more vision and compassion than exists in our current political climate.

    That caveat? That the norms of our democracy might be destroyed before this transition can take place. Alleviated by the mid-terms. Not resolved, no. But lessened. We can still take a punch.

     

     

     


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  • Populists and Authoritarians

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Samain and the Decided Moon

    Friday gratefuls: Stevenson Toyota. Blizzaks. Gripping the Snow. Ruby oiled, new boots, tires aligned. A sweet ride. Took her in at exactly 39,000 miles. Could use a good scrub though. Inside and out. The Mountains this morning. Trees with Frost up and down Black Mountain, Conifer Mountain. The Sun shrouded by Clouds. Shadow Mountain Drive snaking its icy way to Hwy. 73. Jackie. Chance. Kristie. Diane and Tom. Me. The Lodgepoles and Aspens.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: My good friend Kep

     

    How do I feel? Joyful. How do I feel? Glad. How do I feel? Amazed. How do I feel? Stressed. How do I feel? Grateful. Leaving Shadow Mountain at 7:30 am the Mountains sparkled in filtered Sunlight. Like driving in a Christmas card. Could have seen a sleigh pulled by horses, jingling all the way. 16 degrees. Snow on the Ground. The Trees decorated on each Branch and Twig, Pine Needle and Trunk. I smiled and would have clapped my hands except you know driving.

    Further down the hill the Clouds gave way to Colorado blue Sky and the Hogsback, the front edge of the Front Range, was white with last night’s Snow. Beautiful. What a beautiful, delightful place to live. Glad I’m staying. Both going down and coming back up the hill in the morning I had the good luck to follow snow plows. No dangers at 20 mph.

    Handed Ruby off to Chance a Toyota advisor, got a ride to Enterprise rental and picked up a Corolla so I could come home, attend my creativity class and workout. Which I did.

    After a lunch of Corn salad, Honeycrisp Apples with Peanut butter and Camembert cheese, I hopped in the Corolla and drove back down the Mountain to collect Ruby. Oiled, aligned, winter boots. Vitals checked. She’s in good health.

    Drove back up the hill to Aspen Park where Jackie cut my hair and trimmed my beard. She’s such a sweetie. Ronda, too. The conversation in Aspen Roots focused on preparations for Thanksgiving. Jackie’s doing two Turkeys! 22-24 people. Whoa. We talked about things as we always do. After talking about family a bit, Jackie said, Oh, yeah. Family. The other F word. That cracked me up. So often true.

    Back here on Shadow Mountain I fed Kep and came downstairs to write this.

     

    Still drifting politically. Got the book Cultural Backlash in the mail yesterday. Pippa Norris and Ronald Ingelhart. I mentioned it a few days back. Pippa was on the Ezra Klein podcast last week. Got as far as definitions of populism and authoritarianism. Really odd how they so often rise up together, yet directly contradict each other. Populists want each one of the real people to have a voice, to be in control. Authoritarians want to provide security to the real people. The price? Their voice, their impact on government.

     


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  • Well…

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Samain and the Decision Moon

    Wednesday gratefuls: No red wave. Judy’s courage. Tal. A fine director. Astrov, a wonderful character. Memorization. Rebecca. Georgeta. Nittya. Hamish. Emily. How do I feel? Relieved. Chekhov. Kate’s courage. Always Kate. Jon, a memory. Ruth and Gabe. Cold weather coming. A property manager. Vince. (have him handle appliances, too?) Hawai’i. Such a fine place to be. CBE, home turf. Shadow Mountain, home. Kep, dogged. Dan, who brought me home grown marijuana and honey from his own hives yesterday. Past president of the congregation.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Democracy’s faint pulse

     

    First. My friend Judy died yesterday. If she followed the path she had explained to me, she took the medication with a trusted friend by her side reading the Psalms. Her shiva minyan is tomorrow night. I’ll be there. Kate, too, chose her own death. This kind of courage needs celebration. It says we can choose to leave life with honesty, with compassion for ourselves and for those we love. It will never be an easy choice which insures its integrity. Judy leaves behind a collection of recipes for the foods she often brought to our meetings. I’ll make at least one this next week in her memory. May her memory be for a blessing.

     

    Second. No red wave. Odd, isn’t it, it just occurred to me. Who’s the red menace now? Dr. Oz will have to go back to celebrity medicine. Sad Stacey Abrams lost. I’ve not done a deep look at the results but when a Fox news commentator and Washington Post columnist says: “…the Republican Party has some major soul-searching to do following the 2022 midterm elections,” (Marc Thiessen reported in The Hill.) I’m encouraged.

    Gulled by Republican propaganda and Democratic whining to expect the worst, I opened the news this morning to find a horse race. Yeah, horses. Still could tip to Repub control I know. Yet. The fact that there’s a struggle suggests the Extremes and the Trumplicans have not prevailed. Our democracy may not end up in the political intensive care ward. At least not yet.

     

    Third. Acting class last night. A lot of memorization ahead of me. A lot. I’m going to devote hours each day until Thanksgiving. I can and will do it. The experienced actors are already off-book for their monologues. I could have been but I vacationed instead. Back to the books now. Literally.

     

    Fourth. The decision. Yes, I said I’d make it after the trip. That’s now. I’m leaving a small crack in the door but here are a few new reasons for remaining in place. I put in the mini-splits and remodeled the kitchen. I moved furniture and rehung art. This is my place now. And I worked hard to get it here.

    Do what brings you joy, RJ said. Funny how I’d missed that part of the equation in my logical and careful delineation of this and that. It brings me joy to go to acting class. It brings me joy to cook in my kitchen. It brings me joy to live in the Rocky Mountains, in spite of or because of the challenges. It brings me joy to see Hawai’i as the place I choose to live next. It brings me joy to exercise in my own small gym. It brings me joy to host Thanksgiving for my shrinking family here in Colorado. It brings me joy to light up Herme and think of the Hermitage. It even brings me joy to be so much a part of Judy’s life that her shiva minyan is important to me. So. Oh? See where I’m going with this?

    To that end I’ve contacted Vince. He’s coming by today. I may even have him take charge of all the stuff, including my appliances. If I have a need, he would contact the appropriate person and oversee their work. Maybe. Not sure about that. He will handle all the outside work. He’s excited about that and the handyman type work on the inside, too. This property is too much for me to handle. Alone. Might pay him a retainer against which he would bill his services. Then, I can let go of that stuff.

    When someone asked what did I want in a new place, I’d often say oh five years or so peace and calm. No drama. Knowing that wasn’t possible but really wanting some stability without headaches associated with home ownership. Yesterday I thought. Wait a minute. I’m upsetting a chance for peace and calm right here by going through this extended home selling, relocating process. Which will then entail a whole new period of upset and chaos. By definition. I can achieve what I really want most easily by continuing the work I’ve already begun here.

    By peace and calm I don’t mean stasis. The opposite in fact. I want to get back to writing every day. I want my daily life to flow, as I know it can. I want to see how my life unfolds, not keep putting new barriers in front of that unfolding.

    What’s the crack in the door? Health. I’ve got a pulmonology referral. When I meet with them, I’m going to investigate any lung related reasons I should move now. Or, sometime soon. If they exist, and I don’t think they do, I’ll recalibrate.

    Still gonna prune and paint.

     

     

     


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