reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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this daisy. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

it sits on the dashboard of littlebabyscion – the vestiges of a single daisy. it is now thirteen years old, this daisy. and it has been right there for all thirteen years, its seed coats still hanging on, though toughening by the day.

because we had never met when we met, i brought a daisy with me to o’hare – to distinguish myself from all the other people waiting at baggage claim, to be clear that it was me – there – waiting to meet him – arriving.

i told him that i’d be the one holding the daisy because i thought it better than a sign and because daisies are happy. i stopped at the florist earlier in the day to get my one daisy while in the middle of perseverating over what to wear.

in the end i wore jeans, boots and an oversized black chenille sweater and i felt like me. which is a good thing, particularly when you are meeting someone you have never met.

we had written for about six months. every single day. emails would arrive in the evening or in the wee hours and i’d lay awake devouring it all and writing back about my own life, candid and vulnerable – honestly typing it all to this new friend with whom i had only had one phone conversation.

we discovered that life – as artists, even in different mediums – had some parallels to which we could easily relate. we discovered that life held some of the same mysteries for us. we discovered that life’s challenges were, well, challenges for both of us. we discovered we could see that life’s joys were swinging on a star…or two….or a zillion.

i was sort of aware of people laughing when we skipped through the airport to get on the escalator. but it was more like a slow-motion movie happening outside of me, one of the people skipping. slightly dreamy.

but it wasn’t all dreamy.

and though we found our zealous friendship evolved into something much, much bigger, something where two hearts melded together, something where love was undeniable and where we found we made a good team, it had many moments that were less than dreamy.

because life is like that.

this year it was thirteen years on the thirteenth. thirteen years since that veryfirstday we set eyes on each other – two artists scanning baggage claim, both in jeans and boots and black – both nervous, both excited. the next day we got big star drive-in burgers and fries, had a little champagne. this year we got big star drive-in burgers and fries, had a little champagne. a celebration of a big day.

back then, thirteen years ago, on the way into the airport, a girl asked me why i was carrying a daisy. i told her why. we ended up going to the same baggage claim. she was meeting her fiance at baggage claim because he was flying in. it was their wedding weekend. we saw each other in the ladies’ room a couple of times, nervously fixing our hair, pacing.

she looked at me and said, “he’s going to be your soulmate, you know.”

i laughed and said i’d be happy if we even turned out to be friends.

she was right.

and so was i.

thirteen years since the first day i laid eyes on him now.

and we were both right.

and the daisy sits on the dashboard of littlebabyscion, the eye keeping an eye on us with still so many seeds for the future.

*****

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to share this. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

if it were possible to feel like a pine tree, this would have been the day.

in the vastness of this bryce canyonland, we stood on the edge – like this pine tree – and gazed over an incredible expanse. it was not merely beautiful. it was beyond words.

and, once again, i felt it in my heart – that wobbly feeling you get when you realize – truly realize – how utterly small you are in all of thissssss.

we celebrate our anniversary today. there is so much more to explore. there are many more adventures to be had. there are more uphills and downhills. there are more learnings and experiences and times to hold.

and there are more moments like this – where we are reminded of the tiny morsels of being that we are and the sheer gratitude for the chance to be here, to share this.

*****

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the stuff. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

if you asked me to name one striking thing about our relationship, i would tell you that we are touchers. we hold hands, we walk arm in arm, we snuggle. there are exquisite moments like when he kisses the top of my head or unexpectedly rubs my shoulders.

this is not the stuff of the grandest passion of romance movies, but it is the stuff of grand passionate romance.

i will hold hands with this man anywhere, any time. for all time.

*****

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happiness is. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

“happiness is….happiness is….happiness is…different things to different people. that’s what happiness is.” (ray conniff)

i can’t use these glasses – gifted to us – without hearing that song. our tonic and lime makes it happen every time. I don’t fight it. i succumb to it – humming or bursting into song – at least inside my head.

nine years ago the monday of this week was the start. everyone was on their way – sometime during that week. we entertained at our old house each night – and everyone present came for dinners we prepared with an entourage of kitchen helpers. it was a barn raising in every good way.

by the time we actually got married – at the end of the week – we were pretty darn tired. but happiness? it was abundant.

every now and then there is a moment, a snag, a who-are-you-and-what-are-you-doing-here. we all have them. but, in the way of moments, they are momentary. and if i give myself space to think about the passage of time and everything that has brought us to the puny moment, to allow in perspective, i am able to process, to rejuvenate out of puny, back to happiness. ok….not an immediate bouncing-dancing-leaping-about kind of happiness, but a deep-from-within happiness that reminds me of the reason we two people joined. the support, belief and love of our families, friends, community have generously seen us through.

every now and then there is a moment, a wildly astonishing wide-eye, a heart-lifting teary eye, an i-wouldn’t-wanna-be-anywhere-else. and, in the way of moments, it is a gift, a reminder of the unlikeliness of ever having met, a gratitude for how the universe aligned two tiny stars distantly apart, a peek into the big heart – and the sense of humor – of whatever deity you wish to name. those are bouncing-dancing-leaping-about kinds of happiness moments.

each year that we celebrate another year we relive that week preceding our wedding. each year we are grateful. each year we are really aware of happiness … which begets happiness … which begets happiness.

happiness is.

thank you for being a part of us.

*****

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this is that day. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

what is it they say? a blessing and a curse.

yes. remembering dates can be both. on one hand, you can suddenly recall that something absolutely splendid happened on this very date – that it was life-altering, that it was the beginning of a new journey, a divergent path in the woods. on the other hand, you can suddenly recall that something absolutely dreadful happened on this very date – and it slams into you and holds you down for a moment or two while you catch your breath, gulping air, grasping at remembering you are no longer in that very moment on that very day.

today is one of those remembering dates.

but today is the first kind.

eleven years ago today – in baggage claim of o’hare airport – in a pair of jeans, a black sweater and some boots (an outfit pondered over for days) – i stood, holding a single daisy, waiting to finally meet this person i had been communicating with for about six months every single day.

and that moment – on that day – in that place – with that outfit on – was about to change my life.

you can’t always pinpoint those moments, exactlyyy. you know that something – some set of circumstances or events combined to change you – but you don’t always know the moment when something in-real-life enters your life and nothing will ever be the same.

it wasn’t like stars exploding or fireworks. no bells rang in my head. i didn’t faint or have palpitations. i was not weak-kneed. i wasn’t wowed or wooed or walloped. i did not whoop in overwhelming wonder.

i laughed. we hugged. and we skipped. and i felt like i had come home.

the universe had somehow – in some kismet-ish sort of way – sorted through the billions of people on this good earth – and had connected me to a person who would give me equal shares of blissful moments and infuriating moments, the person who would be my favorite person, the person who would be my favorite pain-in-the-ass, the person who would make me think and feel and cry and snort, the person who would be my rock in a never-ending river complete with gentle pools of lazy and boulder-laden whitewater rapids, the person whose kiss on the top of my head nearly breaks my heart open.

this is that day. i remember it.

❤️

*****

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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.

*****

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a very very very fine house. [saturday morning smack-dab.]

“our house…is a very very very fine house…” i can hear crosby, stills, nash and young gently singing this sweet domestic-bliss song in my ear. it makes me smile and nod my head.

everyone has their bliss. some need gigantic homes with every upgrade. some need rv’s that give freedom to roam. some need high-floor-city-dwelling. some need acreage in the middle of nowhere.

the things we need change.

we are finding that we need less and less. nothing fancy, nothing real shiny, nothing ostentatious, our house is simply an old house. it was built in 1928 and has all the trimmings of a sturdy old home – thick crown moldings and wainscoting panels, solid six panels and windowed french doors, creaking wood floors, glass doorknobs, high ceilings, double-hung roped windows. it also has all the quirks.

and we love it all.

now, don’t get me wrong, these last few days i would have been a very happy girl to have had central air conditioning. other days, i’ve pined for an island in our kitchen or maybe a master suite or a connected two-car garage. but…it’s not so and we don’t get all hung up on that stuff.

instead, we just love our house. and we feel like it knows it. because we can feel it loving us back.

yes. our house…is a very very very fine house.

*****

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the good wine. [saturday morning smack-dab.]

on this day – ten years ago – i was in anticipation. after about six months of letters via email, we were about to meet in person. we talked about it over glasses of wine on bar stools in a real bistro last night.

i can remember wondering. what this guy – who i had virtually shared my days with – would be like. would he be sincere in person…would he be fun…would he be as easy to talk to side by side as he was in writing and, the big one, what he would look like, what i would see in his eyes. i had seen the tiniest of tiny photographs – a thumbprint size – and that was it. i was looking for a man in the great big baggage claim of o’hare airport who, in all likelihood, i would not recognize.

and yet…

there he was, jeans, boots, black shirt, backpack, rollybag. i knew him right away.

it hasn’t been a piece-o-cake ten years. there have been roiling rapids in the river and hidden boulders of challenge. we have faced down storms and weather systems. we have had our share of loss. we have gone from truly-middle-middle-age to a-wee-past-middle-middle-age. our bodies show it. our priorities show it. we haven’t the shared luggage of a journey before this decade together; instead we have separate baggage of tens-of-years long before we met. we have learned the skills of listening to all these stories, to generously entertain redundancy, to compassionately help each other sort. we have learned the complexities of a middle-age relationship, for there are many. you arrive where you are and that is a little further down the road. we have learned that dancing in the kitchen is tantamount to happy-making. we have learned that cooking – together – is affirming and feeds us in more ways than we realized. we have learned that walking arm in arm – with a skip every now and again – centers us.

time will continue to fly by. our dogga will soon be ten and we all miss our babycat. together we have seen my sweet momma on to the next and we have seen his dad on. we have moved children and criss-crossed the country to see them. there will be loss and there will be elation. the ribbon we carry in our pocket ties us to gossamer reminders of each and of our capacity to adjust.

there are those of you out there – who are trying this all on for size. trying on middle-age relationship, trying on new relationship at any age. there are times that it may seem insurmountable, maybe even sooo-not-worth-it.

but it is.

we have learned that it all counts.

and for that – the good wine.

*****

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SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2023 kerrianddavid.com

if you love SMACK-DAB and want to help support it, please consider www.buymeacoffee. thank you ever so much. truly. xoxo


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up on the roof. [merely-a-thought monday]

adulting is hard.

this is not a new revelation.

it’s just a reinforcement of the obvious.

i’m caught in the onslaught of wistful; fall is here. and the on-and-on thoughts in the middle of the night include a zillion questions, all unanswered.

we took a walk in charlotte, on the way to a pedicure with my girl. i wanted to run to the door of the house-with-this-fence and hug the person who painted it.

where else can we be but where we are? marcel reminds us, “the real voyage of discovery consists, not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.”

today is our anniversary. it’s been seven years since we had seven days in a row of parties, were surrounded by family and friends for seven whole days. oh, to relish something like that again! daisies and food truck burgers, heaping plates of pasta and sweet potato fries, cupcakes and gluten-free brownies, bottles of wine from ann’s corner store. we picked pumpkins and danced on the patio and bonfired on the beach. it was a giant celebration and we reveled in it all.

in the middle of middle age we somehow found each other – across the country from each other. we both had been married before – to extraordinary people who have also found a beloved with whom to share life. we often ponder together the “had we been smarter, more capable, wiser” questions, but the “réview” mirror is not where we are going and here – in our 60s – it’s full-steam ahead. we feel fortunate. we are able to share our time together, our growing-old, our foibles and messes and the successes that brought us to now. this time hasn’t been a cakewalk. it sure hasn’t been fancy. coming together in middle age has its challenges and we have had a few extras tossed our way through these years. we sort through the weirds and stand in the wonder. and we know we are where we are supposed to be. maybe there is some sort of design in this universe.

20 gave us a card. like most of his cards, he made it for us. it reads, “love isn’t something that happens to us. it’s something we’re making together.”

tonight we are going to bring happy hour up on the roof. because the very first day of making-this-story-together-the-day-we-met-in-person, that’s where we sipped wine under blankets as the sun went down on a cool may day.

*****

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right now and love. [d.r. thursday]

barney had an anniversary. seven years in our backyard. seven years of sun and rain and snow and ice. seven years of chipmunks and squirrels and robins and cardinals. seven years of wild geranium and day lilies and peonies and potted plants and candles. seven years of intense love. some things are unexpected. i still remember the beginning.

but barney’s influence on us has been significant. as he has aged, grayed, wrinkled, as his layers have peeled back and as his many-wooden-layered sedimentary life has undergone a metamorphosis, so have ours. we have gone the road with barney.

there are moments we glance over, in early morning light or the dim of dusk, and are taken aback at the beauty of this old piano in our yard. i can’t imagine it not being there, even as it gently lists a little left, into the ground.

same as those moments, in early morning light or the dim of dusk, that we glance over at each other. a little bowled over by the sheer presence of the other. the moment-ness, the what-else-is-there-ness, startling us into awareness. time keeps marching on and little counts but the chipmunks scurrying, the birds landing, the sun on our faces.

i got a single text from our girl. i read a post from our boy. they are in their own skins; they are making their way too, upright pianos in the backyard, living their best lives.

it’s a hot night. we sit on the cushions we bought last year – after long, measured research and budgeting – and light our column firepit.

the flame dances in the breeze. and it frames barney.

and reminds us – simply – that right now and love are what count.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY