reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Monthly Archives: October 2023


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this side of the corn. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

fall is coming on. there is no denying it. everything is starting to wane.

the sky is starting to gray. the corn will be soon plowed under and, one of these days, the cabbage fields will have to turn over, the yield from their crop slowed to a stop. the colors are changing.

george winston recorded an album called autumn. you listen inside his wistfulness as he toys with the emotions of the changing. the album was released in 1980 and, for me, that was a distinct time of heading into fallow.

some fallows last longer than the seasons and the tilted axis of the earth seems to evade warming sunlight. the seeds gather strength in the ground – centered in us, even without us nourishing them. and eventually, ever-so-slowly sometimes, the earth tilts back toward the sun and the orbital horizon is rebirth, spring.

it seems to happen fast – the waning. the ebb and flow of the cold. there is nothing as constant as change and, so, we need remember that in times of fallow. the tide – like the corn and the cabbage – will come and go, come and go. an ancient story.

we join hands with others on our path – they are quite possibly on the same ebb and quite possibly will be in the flow with us as well. they stand with us, they encourage us, they surprise us. the shapes of others appear – like revelations – from out of the mist of our fixed frame of reference. everything looks different.

standing on this side of the corn, gazing into the grayness of sky, the dance of color as it fades, i am finding – with much gratitude – that there are others standing right there with me, gazing as well. the wistful tugs at us; gravitational effect far from the sun but with promise of the pull. we stand still, roots under our feet, steadfastly hand-holding, looking at the horizon as it shifts.

and time passes and the seasons flow and flow and, eventually, the axis finally – at long last – tilts and the fallow ends and the seeds that were planted so long ago break through the frozen ground and we know that we have – together – affected even the tiniest change.

and winter comes as we stoke up, readying ourselves for the riches of spring.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

FLOATING acrylic 48″x24″

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a little decadence. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

and we finished with an exquisite slice of flourless chocolate torte. it was as simply beautiful as it was scrumptious.

we never order dessert. we hardly ever order anything we don’t share. to cut to the REAL chase, we hardly ever go out to dine.

so this was a pretty special day.

we had hiked about eight miles that day, the day before about nine. all told, in three days we hiked about twenty-two miles or so. it was the day after our anniversary. we finished our hike and arrived back at littlebabyscion starving. and, completely out of our frugal character, we spontaneously went to the cool pub nearby.

in an extraordinary move, we ordered two glasses of wine and three appetizers to split – not just one and not even just two. three! it was absolutely remarkable! we could tell that the waitstaff was amused by our complete glee and they each were sweet and solicitous, filling our water glasses and checking in on us. we felt like royalty. but, really, we were just two people on barstools engrossed in an experience that is now as rare as it is wondrous.

“a little something sweet,” we spoke aloud, as the server handed us the dessert menu. we shooed away any thoughts of over-indulging. we even giggled as we ordered the torte.

a smidge of rejuvenation, a nod to our own worth, balm to troubled hearts. it was an amazing afternoon on those stools, feeling like the world and possibility were at our fingertips.

a little decadence goes a long way.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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all showing up. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

in the way that we don’t realize the impact our words have on someone else, pete’s words stay with me: “there are angels all around you.” i’m pretty sure he didn’t know how often i would shuffle over to his words, to hear them, savor them, be comforted by them one more time. even now, in the dimension where he soars his soul, he may have no idea what those six words would mean to me.

and the other day, hiking on our favorite trail, in the middle of the middle, i looked up to the sky. directly overhead, the angel wings were clear and i could distinctly hear, “there are angels all around you.”

in ways right now i am stepping back to step forward. it’s necessary. not funandgames, not frivolous, not indulgent, but necessary.

and i am reminded – we don’t stand alone. those-who-have-gone-before extend gossamer threads. those who are stalwart in our regular lives stand still and strong, rocks for when we are unsteady. there are those who are new – but mighty and sure – in our path with us.

all showing up. walking alongside.

and i am reminded – we don’t walk alone.

there are angels all around us.

*****

happy 103rd birthday my sweet poppo. ❤️

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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me and nancy drew. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

rainy weekends and antique shoppes go hand in hand. we love a slow browse through the stuffofthepast. curling up on the couch under a sherpa blanket with a good book is also an option. cleaning out the basement, dusting, vacuuming, mopping floors – eh, not so much.

i won’t forget how much time i spent as a kid with nancy drew. she and i sat on my orange and green shag rug floor with hot cocoa for long spans of time, figuring out her mysteries and strategizing next moves. i knew girlfriends who had every single volume, but i didn’t. i had some but i also had a library card and that was like having a ticket to anything.

sometime in elementary school i remember chomping at the bit to go to the library as soon as i got into my school. i used to volunteer there at lunchtime in later elementary years, but early on it was just a place of wonder.

i was the youngest of three and my sister and brother were eleven and nine years older than me – thus they were in prime teasing positions and never failed to take advantage of a moment, particularly my big brother. my sister was more in charge of doing my hair, torturing me with a hairbrush and a teasing comb, rubber bands and sponge curlers.

for some reason – sometime in those early elementary years – we were all together in the living room and they were talking about “natural-born americans”. one of them – and i can’t remember who – looked at me and told me that i wasn’t a natural-born american. i stared in horror, not understanding. they added, “you’re caesarean!” to which i burst into tears. i had no idea where on earth caesarea was and i didn’t want to admit it.

the next morning i made a beeline to the library before going to my classroom. i went directly to the globe and then to an atlas, looking desperately for caesarea.

later, back at home reviewing my day with my mom, i told her about what i had found and i said that as a caesarean i hoped they were still my family, since they were all american.

i don’t think my sister and brother got into much trouble but i’m pretty sure they got a talking-to for terrorizing me. it didn’t stick because it wasn’t long before my brother told me he had flushed my favorite slippers down the toilet. ahhhh. beloved siblings.

i’ve decided that nancy and i would have been good partners. two sleuths, not afraid to look for clues, researching and studying endless details, we could have ruled the third-grade world. nancy drew and kerri.

and all those volumes would have ended up in the antique shoppe too.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

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mighty regrettable breath. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

yes, yes…we are privy to (read: subjected to) the veryvery best of our partners. in every moment of every day. up close and personal. yup.

there’s not much to be said here. ya know how they say diet plays into everything, into every arena of your life, how it protects you against disease, how garlic and onions are heart-protective superfoods, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound?

well, some things – in relationship and diet and everynowandthen-halitosis – must be taken with a grain of salt, i guess – or maybe a little distance – or maybe a face mask.

most definitely with a nod to tactful….here’s some advice i just read off a dental site: “don’t be too harsh. the most important thing to remember about this conversation is that it’s coming from a place of love, and that the bad breath isn’t a malicious act.“

uh-huh.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2023 kerrianddavid.com
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not done yet. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

it was nothing short of stunning.

in the juxtaposition of october’s start and summer’s last grasp – up north – we were the recipients of the gift of a subtle duality, the gift of liminal space as the seasons shift and morph into the next: summer falling away and autumn rising.

i am a fall-girl and october is my favorite month. way back when – when color and season analysis was a thing – i was told i was autumn. but i already knew it. and now – in what is defined as the autumn of my life – i find myself looking back so as to look forward, to go forward. sometimes this is with great intention, sometimes it is not at all deliberate.

i stumbled across a video the other day. i was googling a youtube of one of my recordings. second up on the googlelist was a video i had never seen. from 1996, shot and edited by a videographer, this was posted recently as a memorial to him and is a 25 minute snippet of a full-length concert i had played at uw-parkside’s auditorium. i released two CDs that night, my second and third…a dozen albums and so, so many concerts and stages ago.

i pushed the play button.

there are days you wonder where the time has gone, how summer has turned to fall and fall to winter. time has rushed by and, in its fleetingness, you have left behind profound moments, defining moments.

watching this video became one of them. watching this video reminded me.

my straight-bangs-wrinkleless-eye-shadowed face was in her element. i could feeel it.

maybe – in the autumn of my life – in the liminal space of relevant-not-relevant, of summer-fall, of falling away-rising – i’m not quite done yet.

*****

snippets from 1996 CONCERT at UW-PARKSIDE – releasing BLUEPRINT FOR MY SOUL & THE LIGHTS CDs (a memorial post on YouTube to videographer Harry Stoetzel)

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

download music from my little corner of iTUNES

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lipstick. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

mama dear always wore lipstick. it really didn’t matter what the occasion or if there even was an occasion. she had her lipstick on and carried it in her purse to refresh. she came to mind the moment i saw this hibiscus. this was the color.

my grandmother had red hair – for as long as i can remember. she also had a red-hair-personality. she was sassy and stubborn, full of sisu; she did red hair proud. she was one of my best friends and we sat together and ate rye toast sipping tea talking about life in her last years. i was in my beginning years when she was in her ending years. i was just experimenting with make-up and she wore lipstick. well.

i still don’t wear lipstick. sometimes a little lip balm, but never lipstick. despite my big sister’s best efforts – for decades – to find the right shade, the best hue, the most moisturizing, the longest-lasting, it’s never felt quite right on me.

even now, as i see my lips fade a bit from my face – in the way that aging does that – i can’t wear hibiscus – or even soft peach-fuzz-rose – on my lips. though mama dear, my own sweet momma, my sister all looked and look stunningly beautiful with the added color to their perfect faces, something has always precluded me.

in the photo shoot for my second album cover, the make-up artist chose a lip pencil, carefully outlining and then filling in with – yes – deep red color. after the album was released, i had my dear graphic designer tone it down, re-releasing the jacket to resemble me a little more. for to release a jacket that didn’t hold true to what i looked like felt contrary to the release of music i had written from deep in my heart. i believe mama dear would understand.

so i guess i will stick with lip balm and the hibiscus will stay on the stem and i will have sweet memories and giant appreciation for its color in the world.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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mama dear 1974 in finland at the unveiling of famous composer and relative uuno klami‘s monument. uuno would understand, too.
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a village. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

laughter.

if you asked me what word best describes our up-north trips, it would be laughter. pontoon boatrides and utv drives, hikes in the woods and lots and lots of food and drink and snacks, and it is still laughter.

there is nothing – truly, absolutely nothing – like being with other people who are in the same – ummm – age bracket you are in.

i remember my sweet momma and poppo gathered around their pool in florida with multiple other couples. yadayadayada they’d go on and on about their trials and travails. i was stunned back then by the ordinariness of their conversations, by the chapter of life.

but i tell ya, they had nothing on the up-north gang. we will literally talk about ANYthing. any sordid detail, any grimy description, any mighty middle-age challenge, any blahblah that floats into our brains. we share life, we tell stories, we compare notes, we make suggestions, we google and sort and — yes, laugh.

the other day we took a walk in our neighborhood and met up with a couple friends walking the other way. after the initial hellos and whatchabeendoins, we took the fast track to a fascinating conversation about – drumroll, please – medicare. never would i have ever thought we would have stood on the sidewalk chit-chatting about medicare plans, but there we were – for a long time – the waves crashing on the shore next to us – comparing and contrasting information about supplemental plans and advantage plans. thrilling, eh?

it actually was. thrilling, that is.

because everyone needs to be surrounded by people who “get it”, who “get” where you are in life, “get” the tribulations, “get” the worries and the stuff you have to figure out, “get” the aches and pains and physical morphing that seems to be happening to us. together we can do this.

it takes a village to grow old, i say.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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eight daisies. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

and the early morning autumn sun streams in the window at a different angle, shining into my face, making me squint and scooch over under the quilt. the light pours over us and, though the air in the room is chilly, we are warmed by the intensity of this october suntilt.

it is our anniversary. eight years ago today we were surrounded by family and friends. we took vows of commitment in this second chance we both had and spontaneously skipped down the aisle to the ukulele band playing and everyone singing “what a wonderful world” after we were declared “married”. the day was glorious – sunny and in the 70s – and everyone gathered at the old beachhouse, warm sand and lakeshore boulders inviting walks, sitting, a late bonfire. we all danced and ate sliders from the food truck, homemade daisy cupcakes and wine from the corner store in our ‘hood. we celebrated in community.

this year will be quieter. we will perhaps take the day. we may go hiking or go visit a town in which we love to stroll and browse. maybe we’ll try to track down the burgermeister food truck, sit in the sun and reminisce. we’ll see.

but before we start – before our feet hit the floor to getamoveon – we’ll just sit here under the autumnglowing quilt with dogga at our feet, sip our coffee and be in wonder that two people – worlds apart – had the good fortune to somehow meet.

our tiny stars somehow aligned, bumped into each other in the galaxy and glimmerdust washed over us, never to be the same, always to be loved.

*****

AND NOW – a wedding song ©️ 2015 kerri sherwood

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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silence is not golden. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

“if what one has to say is not better than silence, then one should keep silent.” (confucius)

and then there’s the other side of the coin – the side where silence is not golden.

silence doesn’t stop injustice. it doesn’t stop bullying. it alludes to apathy and indifference, even complicity. it is a ship in a harbor. it is safe. it is spineless.

speaking up – of truth – is not babbling. it is not the proliferation of lies, of the made-up. it does not propagate agenda nor does it perpetuate a culture of the unquestioning. it screeches falsity to a halt; it brings focus to ambiguity; it stands up.

we choose our course. we choose what is or is not important to us. we look to others for wisdom and the ability to sort our path. we make errors in judgment; we keep quiet. we learn. we find our voice.

for me, cousin jerry’s t-shirt said it all: “SPEAK UP!”

because:

“silence becomes cowardice when occasion demands speaking out the whole truth and acting accordingly.” (mahatma gandhi)

“if you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. if an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality.” (archbishop desmond tutu)

“we must always take sides. neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented. the opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference.” (elie wiesel)

“each time a woman stands up for herself, without knowing it possibly, without claiming it, she stands up for all women.” (maya angelou)

“in the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.” (dr martin luther king jr)

“you own everything that happened to you. tell your stories. if people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.” (anne lamott)

“each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope.” (robert f kennedy)

“do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” (the golden rule)

“speak your truth quietly and clearly.” (max ehrmann)

with a modicum of tact, with compassion for those who have been wronged, with courage and vulnerability and timidity holding hands-hands-hands, standing in the fire of what is truth-telling, there is hope.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

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