Bloodlines

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March 17, 2026- Today being St. Patrick’s Day, my thoughts go to the Irish heritage on both my mother’s and father’s sides. The Kusches, who hailed from Szcezcin, Poland, back when it was Stettin, Pomerania, ended up in St; Louis and Chicago, by the mid-19th Century. Papa Kusch journeyed east, as a young man, and became a shoemaker in Boston, and a small farmer in Saugus. Before they were Kusches, though, they were Cooks-in the area around Wexford, Ireland. Poverty, and the Hanseatic League’s allure, brought them to the Baltic shores. The family was proud of having been prosperous in Germany, and in the Midwest, and I heard little about our Irish roots, but I always felt a draw to the Emerald Isle. Mom had me pledge to look into her side of the family, when we talked of the genealogy that my Dad’s older brother had compiled. I thought that meant going to Pomerania, but last summer’s visit to Wexford, and nearby Rosslare, brief as it was, introduced me to a few people who looked strikingly like my mother and aunts. I later learned their family name was Cook. Part of me wants to go back and spend more time there, but that will need to wait.

My granddaughter will have far taller order, should she ever want to check out her roots. Half of her bloodline is Korean, and there are probably some Chinese ancestors. going way back. The other half is Heinz 57: German, English, Irish, French, Penobscot, Jewish, Lithuanian, Romanian, and Scottish. Her present and near term well-being, though, has me refocusing my energies. The journeys I undertake in the foreseeable future are all along the paths of introducing a little soul to the wider world.

That brings me to a separate point. There was once, at a Baha’i-sponsored conference in Florida, a zone set aside for protesters. Neo-Nazis and Black Separatists found themselves next to one another, in that small zone. There are, on both the Far Right and Far Left, those who today preach the credo of division. The truth about human relations is “whatever we say it is”, and any who call for reconciliation between ethnic groups or “racial” entities are accused of clinging to outmoded, discarded concepts. I beg to differ: It is the very divisions to which they cling that are outmoded, counterproductive and dangerous. Clothing them in academic jargon, or using tones of ridicule, do nothing to bring a longed-for peace. I have to wonder if peace is even what they want- or is conflict more alluring?

Regardless, as Hana and others of her generation show, bloodlines are no respecters of truly outmoded ideologies.

The Road to Diamond, Day 113: Playfulness

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Tom Petty, Harry Chapin and Rivers Cuomo shared the stage tonight, at The Raven Cafe, or so it seemed. The three musicians who were on stage evoked those men, in style-and somewhat in voice and appearance. They played and sang under the watchful poster eyes of Carlos Santana, The Who and Twenty One Pilots. It was a satisfying evening, of both playfulness and angst. The Rivers look-alike offered light-hearted tunes about an elfin girlfriend and living out of his car, juxtaposed with a darker tune about the latter situation. “Tom” sang of being occasionally bereft of spirit and of drinking on St. Patrick’s Day. “Harry” was mainly focused on his courtship and love for his wife.

It was a fine cap to a playful day. The morning brought me back to Bear and Dragon, this time for a French omelet, that was everything such fare should be-light and fluffy, complemented by a couple of English bangers and a pair of potato galettes. My seat was at the counter, shared with the cafe’s owner, who bantered a bit, in between his business calls. Bernie, the barista, tended well to my coffee and water needs.

Next up, in the afternoon, was a revisit to Arcosanti, the experimental community that lies an hour east of Prescott. I went there to get a couple of photos to send Kathy, in advance of our friends’ visit to Arizona, the second week of April. I also wanted to walk a bit on the Visitors Trail, that leads to the base of a small mesa, on the south side of the property. Before that, I took a short break in the laid-back cafe, enjoying a matcha latte. One of the attendants had a confession to make: His matcha lattes had used 2. 5 ounces of the powder. Fortunately, his co-worker fixed mine, with a more suitable 2 teasspoons of matcha. I read somewhere that there is a shortage of matcha in Japan. Maybe overzealous baristas in the U.S. are part of the reason for that.

Such was a light-hearted day, the first of Spring.

Keeping It Together

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March 17, 2020-

Hope all who wanted to have a festive St. Patrick’s Day, did so.  I was occupied with helping someone by giving him a safe space, for a day or so.  We ended up being among the relative few who enjoyed a meal at our local Texas Roadhouse.  That will be my last dine-in experience, for at least the next few months.  I will still use such take-out and delivery options as remain available,

There are lots of other changes.  My meetings with Baha’is, the Red Cross and Slow Food will be virtual.  My inchoate connection with Prescott College’s Sustainability Club will remain on hold, until some means are found to also connect online.  Work is suspended, though we may well be compensated, somehow.  Travel?  Only for family emergency, or to explore some of the Southwest’s wonders, in an unobtrusive manner.

I am approaching the end of my last physical Fast, ever.  Future Baha’i Fasts will find me praying for those who are abstaining, not eating or drinking in their presence and performing acts of service, as they present themselves.

I am finding that there are multiple requests for assistance, mostly emotional support, and that they come in clusters of two or three.  Thankfully, I have been able to meet the needs, with a minimum of difficulty.  My main job now is to keep myself together, physically and emotionally. With all that I’ve been given in this life, it has not been hard to do.

Stay focused, and be thankful for what is, and what will be again.

Inklings

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February 2, 2017, Prescott-

Many people gathered today, in Punxsutawney, PA, and learned from Phil, the Groundhog, that there will be six more weeks of winter.  I’ve heard it’s been a mild one, back east, so six weeks of rain would be a tad dreary, but not insurmountable- unless the rain comes in torrents.

Here, we seem to have had our winter.  SoCal is due for more rain, tomorrow, but not so our neck of the woods.  Of course, Mother Nature has this month and March, during which to send surprises our way.  I remember the year that St. Patrick’s Day saw snow, atop the White Tanks, west of Phoenix.

A few years ago, I read a book called “Awakening Intuition”, by Mona Lisa Schulz.  I learned that the “inklings” that I had, regarding what I was to do, during the years 2011-2015, were fairly clear.  Most of those were accomplished, with considerable help from unseen forces.

I am reading “The Standing Stones Speak”, by Jessica Hoffman and Hamilton Hill, which has what some regard as a “New Age” tone to it.  Since childhood, though, I have felt, strongly, that I am guided by both angels and my own ancestors, including my maternal grandfather, whom I never met, in this life.  What I have received from him, holds me to a high standard, both socially and spiritually.  Penny, in the last year of her life, told me that she saw my Native American ancestors, gathered around me, while I was napping.

I don’t doubt any of this, though some of my hard-headed friends would call it “Woo-woo stuff”, as there seems no practical or tangible value to it.  I have a different view, and we’ll leave it at that, for now.  Nonetheless, the spirit world is flexible, and some of the inklings I’ve had, have been changed.  In 2013, instead of going to Newfoundland, I stayed in the Boston area, and spent more time with my family, especially with my second brother, who was involved in Sail Blind, at the time.  Considering that I went through tortuous emotional issues, earlier that summer, it was probably best.  Last year, instead of going to Chile and Peru, I opted to go, domestically, East and South.  Considering that I got a message, in the middle of the trip, saying that my Nissan was making its last ride, the choice was apt.  As you all know, the Nissan did expire.

I’ve now been advised to work, full time, until either December, 2020 or May,2021.  There are other messages I’ve received, but those are best left for a later date.