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play like there’s no tomorrow! [chicken marsala monday]

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for us, it’s easy to like chicken…our chicken marsala, that is.  we made him up; he is the (mutual) son we didn’t have together.  and so, he’s a jeans-wearing-black-shirts-mostly-flip-flop little boy.  he takes after david with his esoteric wisdom and me with his high forehead and sentimentality.  he has much more brevity than either of us, but he’s little, so give him time.

it’s easy for us to be invested in chicken’s antics, to laugh aloud at his shenanigans, to get a little misty at his emotional ties.  but we have driven across the country with david making up his little voice in the backseat; we have taken a three foot tall flat-chicken into welcome centers and family gatherings; we have taken pictures of our chicken at the colorado border and hanging out in the back of the xb.

and so, it’s easy for us to believe that chicken marsala would have an instant following – an ever-growing group of people who believe in him kind of like how they believed in charlie brown or calvin (well, maybe a teeny little bit like charlie brown or calvin.)  because we do.  we believe in him.  his snippets of wisdom, his goodness, his take on life.  i realize that, like any story, it’s possible that maybe it is hard to start in the middle.  (i am the worst at starting in the middle of any movie – i ask a million questions trying to catch up…)

so i just want to say this:  if you had a chance to have a little boy in your life, one whose wise words entered your heart and whose voice countered the narrative so prevalent in our world now, and, even if he was, ok, make-believe, wouldn’t you just love it to be a little boy like our Chicken?  this nugget is for you.  play.  with abandon.  like a little make-believe boy.  like there’s no tomorrow.

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play like there’s no tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood


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unleash the power of your crayon. [chicken marsala monday]

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on my piano in my studio is a teeny sign with a big message.  it reads, “if you asked me what i came into this world to do, i will tell you i came to live out loud.” (emile zola)   it’s a reminder – a reason for being.  true for each of us, it’s unleashing the metaphoric crayon of our creativity, our thoughts, our knowledge, our gifts, our voices.

there is an extraordinary amount of power in those crayons..the place in the middle that we open…the heart from where our concentric circles start rippling out…where the crayon meets the page, the song is composed, the painter paints, the activist writes.  “loud” (for the sheer sake of being loud) and “out loud” (simply having a voice) are two vastly different things.  and, if you are paying even the least bit of attention at all to world events, we are privy to both in our lives these days.

after living all this life so far, i hope now that the crayons i pick will help to ripple out things that are good, things that consider others, things that are not hurtful, things that are fair, things that are kind.  the power of a crayon unleashed that is “out loud” not “loud.”

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unleash the power of your crayon ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood


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the path forward. [chicken marsala monday]

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often on sunday mornings, when we get to the offertory slot,  jim, the guitar player in the band, and i will look at each other and one of us will make a letter shape with our hands to denote a key…the key of a piece we will improvise on as we go.  and then we are off and running.  although it is often me (with the piano as my music-making-instrument) either one of us drives the piece.  jim loves minor keys – they are so emotional –  so he is in his glory if we pick something minor.  no matter what, we don’t know where it’s going before we start.  but there’s a moment we both feel that it is jelling and we take turns leading and yielding, surprised by the direction and the story, so to speak.

the path forward is like that, i suppose.  you don’t quite know until you start. and sometimes, it takes you by surprise.  just when you think you have it figured out, the key changes.  you lead, you yield, you take a chance not knowing.  and sometimes, it comes out alright.  especially if it’s in a minor key.

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sometimes the path forward announces itself ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood


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ponder life. [chicken marsala monday]

ponderinglife WITH EYES jpeg copymy poppo would sit in the chair and gaze out at the lake behind their house.  in the house before that, he would sit out on the lanai and gaze at the pool.  in previous houses, he had chairs or his workbench, where he would sit or stand and gaze, clearly thinking, thinking, thinking.

now, when you’ve gotten to 91, there’s plenty to think about, many memories, many stages of life, many ways the world has changed.  my poppo was a POW in world war II, escaping and coming back at a time that PTSD had little to no attention given to it.  the atrocities he had experienced were his alone to process, with the help of my sweet momma, if he felt that he could burden her with it.  my parents lost a child, a little girl named barbara lynn, who would be my oldest sister – even older than my sister sharyn! – while my dad was still missing in action, a little person, a part of him, he never met.  i know that as they established themselves as a family, there were challenges that befell them, joys that they cherished, times of much sorrow, small moments and large moments of laughter and goodness.  plenty to think about.

i always wondered what my poppo was thinking about, quietly sitting or puttering.  sometimes i would ask, but other times i would respect his quiet-ness. now that i am getting older, i find myself spending time quietly thinking.  memories, moments, decisions, good things, sad things, questions, things that make me cringe, things that make me laugh aloud.  i think about what’s coming up…what is planned, what will remain a mystery. i wonder.  i give thanks.  i pray.  pondering is a good thing.  it’s necessary.

each time now when i sit outside or inside curled in a chair and find myself just staring off into space, i can’t help but think about my daddy.  and i kind of feel him right there, quietly staring with me. pondering.

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pondering life is a very useful thing to do. ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood

 


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stars [chicken marsala monday]

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opportunities.  to drink in life.  they happen every day.  sometimes we scoop them up, with the scooping-zeal of a small child building a sand castle.  sometimes we choose to sleep through.

this chicken nugget was inspired by a late-late-night-laying-on-the-rocks-by-the-lake viewing a meteor shower.  it was one of those moments we chose.

i remember one freezing cold wisconsin winter evening.  i was driving My Girl to an oboe lesson in town.  in a crazy-fun moment we opened the sunroof, put on our sunglasses and played loud summer music.  we laughed and it was indelibly etched into my memory bank.  it could be cold or it could be a faux-summer drink-in-life.  another day we drove across the state, donned southern accents and strode around an eau claire, wisconsin country music festival, pretending to be from “naaaaashville” but here in wisconsin because we had “kin” who lived here.  the accents and pretending stuck with us all day and the memory still makes me giggle.

there was the time that i had to rent a vehicle while mine was being repaired.  the only thing available was a big (and i mean big!) pickup truck with a extra-long bed lined with rubber.  My Boy was little at the time and he (an avid car/truck fan at the time) couldn’t get over how big the pickup was and remarked that the bed was so big you could sleep in it.  that night, unbeknownst to him, i carried out extra comforters and sleeping bags, pillows and flashlights and pulled the pickup further up the driveway.  when it was time for sleep and he was saying goodnight, i asked him where he was going.  he replied, “upstairs.  to bed.”  laughing, i led him outside to where i had set up our camp, in the bed of that rented pickup under the stars and dewy night sky.

sometimes you just have to say a loud affirming YES to opportunity.  scoop it up.  my goal is to do that even more.  less sleep.  more scooping.

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you can sleep anytime.  how many times in your whole life can you see stars that shoot across the sky? ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood

 

 

 

 

 


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make time for clouds. [chicken marsala monday]

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the crystal clear water was cool around my feet, cold actually.  the current pulled at my flipflops, necessary –  for the rocks below were slippery and i didn’t have the cool sandals My Girl had on.  the hot-hot high altitude sun blazed into my hair; it made me think i should have worn that new packable hat i got last year.

i scanned the horizon, a 360 of mountains and trees and sagebrush and blue-blue sky.  and this river.  going on and on.  as far as i could see, it meandered through the landscape i was reluctant to leave.

and i stood in the water.  never-minding the feeling of almost-numbness of my feet.  because in this moment, i could feel.  the very hot of a brilliant sun, the very cold of snow-capped mountain runoff.  this time of cloudless sky and the murmur of the river.  this time of being with my daughter.  this time of dreaming and imagining and creating scenarios in my mind that would allow me to stay in this very spot.  this time of (in this case, metaphoric) cloud-gazing.

every good cloud-gaze creates a story.  every good cloud-gaze builds a memory.  every good cloud-gaze gives you pause to breathe.  it’s the same with your feet in the river, your blanket on the beach, your chair in front of the bonfire, your boots on the trail.  make time, i say.

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make time for clouds ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood

 


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you just might become inspired. [chicken marsala monday]

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we drove through the plains, through the flint hills, through rolling prairie, through mountain passes, hills dotted with sagebrush, desert adorned with red rock formations.  we drove past working cattle farms, deer and antelope in the wild, horse ranches with fencing that went on forever.  we stopped in little towns high in elevation, two-building towns in the middle of mountain roads, towns with fancy boutiques and eateries, towns with little shops with names like ‘heart and sleeve’.  we met people who were little-town-leery-of-newcomers, people who embraced us, people just doing their job, people going out of the way doing their job.  we saw the wonder of a clear mountain night sky, streams dropping thousands of feet off red rock, arches that had invited themselves into a formation, blue-blues juxtaposed with green-greens and very-burnt-siennas, the grey and white of rocky mountains.  we felt the heat of the desert sun, the cool of a mountain river, the pouring-down rain of a passing colorado storm, the peace of high-elevation night air.  we sipped coffee in bed in a sweet southwest adobe house, lots of water on every trail, wine on the balcony overlooking the mountains and gin and tonics on the porch overlooking the town.  we shared time, laughter, dinners, lunches, even breakfasts, stories, Lumi-dog, tears, adventures and car rides with The Girl. we spent moments with people important to her and people we met along the way who are now our friends, generous people, kind people.  we collected stones in the river, sandstone in the desert, brochures and new colloquial expressions, the cherished sound of The Girl laughing, hugs and what it feels like to once again hold my daughter, goofy moments, sunburned noses, recipes, ideas and cardboard starbucks espresso cups we’ll use later to walk around the ‘hood with wine.  we loved the moment a way-younger-guy-with-great-dreadlocks passed us holding hands and walking on the sidewalk in a little high valley town and said, “you guys are cute.”

and every one of these things…all of this…inspired me.

so now i have photos and memories, receipts, rocks and prayer flags, matching braided leather bracelets and a shirt from the town where The Girl snowboard-instructs…all pieces of what will now be reminders.  reminders of every single thing that inspired me, inspires me, will inspire me.

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be careful. you just might become inspired. ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood

 


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forget about time. [chicken marsala monday]

forgetabouttime WITH EYES jpeg copy 2just one question.  what do you do that makes you forget about time?  do THAT.

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forget about time ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood


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don’t wait! [chicken marsala monday]

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my sweet momma had this thing.  and she passed it down to me.  genetics are brutal!  when she would get something new, she would saaaaaave it.  for later.  for good.  for something special.  no matter what.  we would give her gifts (like a beautiful scarf or blouse) and she would wait to wear it.   she would purchase a new pair of shoes and they would stay in the box, only for “good” wear.  and…i have the gene.  d jokes that every time i ever get anything new, he knows he must wait about six months (an exaggeration…well, maybe an exaggeration only sometimes) to see me wearing it.  now, i don’t purchase things too often, so i understand my momma’s “thing”…you want to keep the item in tip-top shape, you want to treat it like it is ‘special’.  but it’s a curse.  my sister did not inherit this trait.  she will buy something and wear it later the same day.  i envy her nonchalance, that cavalier attitude of well-i-bought-it-and-i’m-gonna-wear-it-ness.  oh, how i wish i could do that.

recently, though, i got this new tunic…up north at a little boutique in a little town.  it was on sale – 50% off – and i pondered it for quite some time (ask ANY of my girlfriends about my fine purchasing-decision-making-skills.)  d convinced me to get it…i mean it was $24.  a total bargain.  i….wait for it…wore it the next day!  the very next day!!  and many times since.  it has already made it to the pack-it-for-an-evening-in-the-mountains-with-a-pair-of-skinny-jeans-and-boots list.  i am wondering if, somehow, i have overcome my waiting-thing.

eh.  i doubt it.  i still haven’t worn the pair of heels in the box in the closet that i got on sale about six years ago.  they are waiting for later.  for something good.  for something special.

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don’t wait ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood


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play together! [chicken marsala monday]

sometimesyouhavetobeapirate WITH EYES jpeg copy 2we have no problem playing.  take our sweet boy chicken marsala, for example.  you may remember this.  chicken was born when we were taking a roadtrip.  we had been driving for about 12 hours or so and were talking about what we would have named a child, had we had one together.  we laughingly agreed on “chicken”….”chicken marsala.”  don’t ask us why; neither of us has the answer.  maybe it was road delirium.  regardless, chicken has stayed with us since then.  we even carried a flat-chicken across the country a couple years ago, taking pictures of him with rest area personnel, at points of interest and with various family members.  we joke about chicken and me cantering in the fields and d uses his “chicken marsala voice”, making us go into fits of hilarity.

no matter the age, no matter the relationship – parent/child, brother/sister, husband/wife, boyfriend/boyfriend, girlfriend/girlfriend – playing adds moments of immeasurable treasure.

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sometimes you have to be a pirate to know where your treasure is ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood