reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


1 Comment

wide awake. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

sometimes smack-dab is based on something we saw or heard. sometimes smack-dab is completely made-up. and sometimes smack-dab is autobiographical. this time – this cartoon – is most definitely that – from the first person.

i do lay awake – wide awake – at night thinking about this election. i spend hours thinking…thinking about the issues at hand, thinking about what is at risk, thinking about what the fallout could be, thinking about what others are thinking. particularly people i love and care about.

it worries me that there is bandwagon-energy-infused-reactionary-anger that is blocking the good and rational, critical-thinking hearts of voters ensconced in maga-world.

it alarms me that the screaming-fired-up propaganda thwarts people’s true consideration of reality, of how their votes would affect those they purport to care about, of how this country would change from by-the-people-for-the-people to under-the-thumb-of-autocracy – the very fascism my sweet poppo, 20’s dad, my brother-in-law, david’s nephew, dear friends fought and fight against.

it disappoints me to the core for my daughter’s future to think that the diminished rights of women my sweet momma endured – and which she gratefully watched as that ever-so-slowly changed – would once again fall under a patriarchal iron fist.

it devastates me that there are people – who i clearly know – for a maga vote is a vote against LGBTQIA rights – who will vote against the possibility of my son’s right to marry, his right to possibly adopt a child some day if he would wish to.

it confounds me that the same people who are on medicare and receive social security, or whose children go to public schools, or who subscribe to healthcare via the affordable care act or medicaid, would want to change these social programs in any way that negatively affects their benefits or those who follow them.

it confuses me that people would vote for the further pushing-under-water of the middle class and for exponential growth for the wealthy, when most people in this country are just getting by and making the chasm between classes even wider would elicit even more emotional division and even less potential, fewer possibilities.

it disgusts me that people would wish for the tiny children of our country to look up to this person they will vote for who has so little integrity, who is a puppet to the biggest of big money, who is down-right mean-spirited in every arena, who is a narcissistic criminal, who is apparently soul-less. i can’t fathom telling my three-year-old, my eight-year-old, my twelve-year-old, my teenager, “this – THIS – is the best man to be our president.” i can’t wrap my head around gifting my children, my grandchildren, my great-children or this democracy with THAT as a legacy.

so i lay awake at night. wide awake. i think about what people are thinking about. i wonder what they care about, who they care about. i worry if it’s just too late to hope that they are thinking or caring.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2024 kerrianddavid.com

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. ~ thank you. xoxo

buymeacoffee is a tip-jar website where you may choose to help support the continuing creating of artists whose work resonates with you.


1 Comment

the time. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

friends of ours asked if we had cicadas yet. they live a short distance away in illinois and their friends – in another close-by illinois town – have so many cicadas that they cannot sleep at night. we haven’t heard a one. at least not yet.

instead, our nights are quiet. we can hear the gurgle of our pond, maybe a little wind. seems about right for the sweet phase.

dogga wakes us early – this morning his first attempt was at 5 – jumping on the bed for pets and snuggles, he encourages us to get up and put the coffee on. but in those exquisite minutes between slumber and plugging in the cuisinart we can hear the birds greeting the morning, the spoon stirring in a mug through our dear west neighbors’ kitchen window, the quiet strains of symphony as the sun streams in through the window and spills onto our quilt. it’s a tender beginning to a day.

last night was warm – we sat out late after we ate dinner on the deck. sans air conditioning it was warm when we went to sleep. i woke up numerous times through the night…always trying hard not to start thinking – because once i go down that road – the thinking road – i have no real chance at going back to sleep. nevertheless, i went there.

it seems – most times – when you end up on the thinking road it is on autopilot, as if you have no ability to steer. last night, though, i tried to stay in control of the steering wheel. and each time my mind wanted to veer off and ruminate over something else, something of concern, i tried to gently bring it back to my breathing, to the sounds of quiet night, to the feeling of d laying next to me, to the gentle snores of dogga.

i’m pretty sure the cicadas will arrive. i hope so. i don’t know if they will be so loud that i cannot sleep. i’m not too worried. there are plenty of other reasons i don’t sleep. and i have actually been a cicada fan my whole life – i love the summer night sounds of crickets and cicadas and miss those when they disappear in the fall. i try to memorize the sound – until the next season of them. i find both reassuring and pointedly centering – “you are in summer,” they seem to say, “relish it.”

the sweet phase. it’s begun. every day. every night. we are fortunate, no matter what. because we are here. period. this is the time to remember that.

*****

IN THE NIGHT from THIS PART OF THE JOURNEY ©️ 1997, 2000 kerri sherwood

download music from my little corner of iTUNES

stream on PANDORA

listen on iHEART radio

read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. ~ thank you. xoxo

buymeacoffee is a tip-jar website where you may help support the continuing creating of artists whose work is meaningful to you.


3 Comments

nights are forever. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

so much to think about. the middle of the night is a mashup festival of thoughts.

sometimes our level of profundity in the night is astounding. we converse and deep dive and solve all the world’s problems, quoting nietzsche and rumi and mary oliver and john muir.

and sometimes, it is less deep, less intense, less – well – anything at all. just random. and one of us – i’m not admitting to being the one – goes on and on, pondering, pondering, pondering – all aloud – convinced the other one of us – again, no pointed fingers here – is actually listening.

meanwhile, the dogga jumps up on the end of the bed – groaning – and yawns, falling into a deep slumber, his paws running, running, running, in dreamland.

sometimes nights are forever.

*****

and, speaking of random…that reminds me of a great 70s song that has nothing to do with this because we are both right here….still, great song!

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2024 kerrianddavid.com

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. ~ thank you. xoxo

buymeacoffee is a tip-jar website where you may choose to support the continuing creating of artists you love. ❤️


1 Comment

the tutti of life. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

somewhere around 3:30 this morning i really wanted to flip on the cuisinart. i was pining for a good strong cup of coffee. i was awake and i was suddenly hungry and most-definitely coffee-deficient. i laid awake for a few hours, thinking, thinking, thinking, as is not uncommon these days.

and then i got a text. my dear friend was up in the night holding her brand-new one-day-old beautiful baby granddaughter and wrote to me about the joy of the moment. i could feel her amazement. a new little person in the world and it was happening at that moment that jen was gently holding her, swaddled and warm.

i thought about my own children, picturing the last time i saw each of them, hoping they are both sleeping, hoping they know – in a tiny corner of their minds – they are still gently held.

earlier – somewhere around 2:30 or so – i had pestered d and we watched a trail or two. there was some new footage of everest and, though a little rough on the video front, we tuned in. it occurred to me that somewhere out there – high in the cold himalayas – roughly twelve hours ahead – at that moment – there were perhaps porters in the khumbu valley moving supplies into their towns or to market with yaks and – incredibly – on their backs.

and maybe some scientist was out studying volcanoes in indonesia or glacial movement in the arctic.

and there were people in the sierra nevadas dealing with blizzard conditions and avalanches and exorbitant wind and others in texas dealing with unchecked wildfires.

there are people in mexico city, worried that fresh water will run out.

and somewhere there was someone holding tightly onto the last moments of life, maybe memorizing the last details or reaching and touching a loved one.

somewhere – in too many lands under siege to count – people were wondering if their home, their town, their region would survive the next day.

and somewhere – someone was sitting, meditating, peace in their soul.

everything going on…all at once. the tutti of life everywhere – the whole orchestra.

and now – in the morning – birds outside our window and sun streaming in – dogga at our feet – i sip hot coffee out of the hydroflask our daughter gave us a few years back – and think about the concurrence of it all.

and i realize – once again – there is no one person who is “all-that”.

*****

tutti (music): all together. (italian)

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

like. share. subscribe. support. comment. ~ thank you. xoxo

buymeacoffee is a website with a tip-jar where you may help support the continuing creating of artists whose work resonates with you. ❤️


1 Comment

that kind of week. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

the thing about being awake before the birds in this most-amazing-spring-like-february-roll-into-march is that you hear the birds start to sing. from the very beginning, the very first bird, that first tweet.

most of the time i do not sleep well. it appears that i am falling into the statistics of masses of middle-aged women – all of whom have insomnia, all of whom exhaustedly lay awake at night, all of whom ruminate and perseverate the night away, and maybe some of whom – like me – revel in the sound of first birds.

and this week? well, after a wonderful last weekend, the universe musta felt like we needed a little pounding. i know you know what i mean. sometimes weeks are like that. and sometimes…well, even the best cup of coffee in the world won’t get you out of bed.

and that’s ok.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2024 kerrianddavid.com

like. share. subscribe. support. comment. ~ thank you. xoxo

buymeacoffee is a website tip-jar where you may choose to help support the continuing creating of artists whose work resonates with you. ❤️


1 Comment

the later it gets. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

the truth is, he’s pretty much always adorable.

well, except for when he’s bugging me.

then, not so much.

and in the middle of the night – him sleeping like a baby and snoring like a freight train – while i am sitting there, wide awake, gazing adoringly at his smug-sweet-sleeping-snoring face – as much as i remind myself my insomnia is not his fault – it is neither his joy or his angst – it is not his to own or relinquish – it is not his to have and to hold – he tends to bug me just the teensiest-tiniest-minutest-nanoscopicest-infinitesimalest-bit.

not so adorable.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. ~ thank you. xoxo

smack-dab. ©️ 2023 kerrianddavid.com


1 Comment

roygbiv. [merely-a-thought monday]

she reached into her rainbow bag and pulled out two rainbow buttons, handing them to us. “brilliant!” i thought, while also thinking we should have brought our “be kind” buttons and given them out as well. this darling little girl, accompanied by her mom, stood in the center of the blocked-off pridefest road, twirling right and left, gifting festgoers with happy faces.

i was awake most of the night. it wasn’t until sometime after the birds began showering the rising sun with song that i fell asleep. middle-of-the-night musings often keep me awake these days. the harvard medical school reports that insomnia is present for 35% to 60% of women after menopause. i’m seriously thinking someone needs to do something about this.

so it is in those wee hours of the night i ponder everythingunderthesun. it is like my own personal pablo neruda book of questions – random, open-ended and with no real answers. all over the map, i revisit growing up, walk through previous houses, go back on vacations, have conversations all over again, list groceries, think about deferred house maintenance, slink around the edges of new creative projects, send positive energy to beloveds. i wonder about the universe answers – if they will drop in, like a sticky note from the heavens above. i list gratitudes – simple, like this tiny girl’s happy face rainbow buttons – and complex, like straddling the line of relevance. i list worries – like the day to day challenges of aging, the challenges of a world fraught with superficiality and division, the challenges of the environment, the heart-challenges of most important relationships. the one thing i do not do is sleep.

i’m pretty sure i am not necessarily capable of solving everything at 2am. and 3am is worse.

but a couple minutes after 4am – when the birds gather in our neighborhood trees and sing up the sun and its roygbiv – and i am present – that is when most of it – the kaleidoscope of life – makes sense.

*****

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


1 Comment

whammo! [saturday morning smack-dab.]

it’s a no-win. the classic rock-and-a-hard-place. a lose-lose. a pickle. a crunch. a conundrum. a double-bind. a dilemma.

yup. there is no truly right response here for that man.

i have learned to preface things i talk about – for instance, “i just want to tell you this. i want to go on and on. i want to _________ (choose: rant/think/ponder/ruminate) aloud. please do not try to solve this. please just listen.”

but sometimes, yes, indeedy, sometimes i just talk. with no preface. and then, in the way of conversation, especially in the middle of the night pillow-talking, he talks after i talk. and – whammo! – that’s where he makes his mistake.

i know you know what i mean.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2023 kerrianddavid.com


Leave a comment

idling. [k.s. friday]

in the middle of the night – as i lie awake – i can hear the trains. not just the haunting whistles of freight chugging by or a late passenger railcar, but a train or two in the yard, idling. the sound hits me at just the wrong frequency – i am hyper aware of its rise and fall, the pulsing of it. once i hear it, i cannot un-hear it. it stays present and i stay awake.

nevertheless, the tracks hold sweet mystery and, each time i see a train, i wonder its destination, i wonder its journey, i wonder its freight or its passengers. i had not ever stood in the middle of a rural track, bent down – almost kneeling, photographing, until recent years. the track – a classic portrayal of perspective, narrowing further away.

i stood in the middle and looked both ways. south and then north. the south curved into the woods, the north was a straightaway. i turned back south.

in the right-now there seems no straight path, no tight focus, no horizon point that is clear. the tracks curve into the woods, beyond my sight, beyond my imagining. i meander. it makes me wonder.

we seek next and idle in our thoughts in the night, not-knowing. it’s liminal space, a diesel engine that needs to be kept warm for the next day, a time to be present on the tracks, bent down, looking for classic perspective. we are attendants.

i hear the haunting whistle in the wee hours and consider this journey.

*****

MEANDER ©️ 2004 kerri sherwood

download music from my little corner of iTUNES

stream on PANDORA

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY


1 Comment

night-table for grown-ups. [saturday morning smack-dab.]

we’re running out of room. the nightstands to the side of our bed are overly-laden.

if you take away the lamp, the clock, a few pictures and a jelly jar of pens and pencils, it barely leaves room for the water bottle, tissue box, readers, cellphone, flashlight, itty-bitty-booklight, backscratcher, pad-for-the-stuff-you-want-to-remember-but-know-you-will-forget-by-morning, ankle socks and – when we plan ahead – the midnight bananas. if we determine anything else is of absolute necessity inthemiddleofthenight we will have to purchase a new night-table. bigger.

i wonder if aarp has grown-up night-tables on discount.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2023 kerrianddavid.com