reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: in these times


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the tenacity of a soul. [kerri’s blog on flawed wednesday]

it continues to peel back. each rainstorm, each gust of wind, the ice and snow of winter, the baking hot sun…they all have impact. and the layers of barney keep peeling back. every iteration of this piano reveals its soul, a soul that never changes. despite disappearing obvious visual cues that say “piano” it is still a piano. the keys are virtually gone now, but remain, nevertheless, in essence. the stand that held music way earlier in this past century of its life has broken down. the sheen of lacquered varnish highlighting the grain of the wood has faded, melting into rays and raindrops. changed, barney is unchanged.

i wonder at the tenacity of such a soul. i wonder at the steadfastness of spirit. i wonder at how much more beautiful it continues to get – each and every day – despite all it has endured, all it endures.

there is a piano in our basement. it is my growing-up piano. it is a spinet, completely out of tune, even with itself. we had it moved down there and then built walls around the stairwell that turns and turns again, 90 degree angles making a complete 180. that piano may never be able to be moved back up those stairs. but if it could, i would bring it outside. the journey that barney has taken – with flowers and plants and chippies and squirrels – has only enhanced its real presence in the world. if i could, i would honor this old piano – this relic of my growing-up – with this same weathering of time.

though currently exponential, like most generations before us, we are living in a strange and scary time. the facade of our country is being peeled back. yet, what we are finding beneath this shiny well-lacquered veneer is not wholesome or all-american. as the soul of constitutional goodness is stripped – layer by layer, right by right, freedom by freedom – there is an ugly that is revealing itself.

when the keys are gone and the music stand is gone and the sheen is gone and the wood is splintering, falling into the garden to turn to mush, what will we find at the center of this country?

i fear it is not stalwart like barney. it is not getting more beautiful. its endurance is limited. changed, it will be changed.

and its soul will be lost.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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what we sow. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

the cosmos splashed across a bit of sidewalk were an invitation for attention. that color! instantly-happy-hot-pink.

she looked wary when i asked her if it was her house. she hesitated a moment and then answered, “yes, it is.”

we were passing by and, as is the case every time we pass by this house, we were charmed by the flowers out front, the porch, the cleverly colorful way the house is painted, the firepit in the front. it is just all delightful and so i told her, “we love it every single time we pass by.”

it wasn’t what she expected, i guess. she smiled, looking surprised, and thanked us, going back to watering her front garden.

and we walked on.

we are living in such trepidatious times. it seems much easier these days for people to say something negative to another person. we drive and blatant f*** you stickers are on vehicles, foul messages of rage and violence. it is clear that the bearers of these messages believe it is perfectly ok to display them to carloads of strangers – adults and children – with whom they are sharing the road. it’s disturbing. people have been given permission to be aggressive, to be filled with anger, to be vile to others.

and so, in light of all the rampant hostility, i realized – afterwards – that this young woman may have felt uncomfortable with my question “is this your house?” and i noted to myself to – next time – start with my compliment, “hi…we love this house every single time we pass by, so if it is yours i’d like you to know that.”

our town does a really spectacular job of flowers. there are stunning gardens in the parks by the harbor and beaches, pots of flowers hanging from the streetlights in downtown, in big planters on the sidewalk. they are all well taken care of and, from time to time, as we have passed people working in those gardens, we have thanked them. they always seem surprised.

i feel like we have fallen down on the job of being human when it is a surprise that someone is courteous, when it is a surprise to be complimented or treated kindly, when the expectation is first that of the possibility of pointed antagonism, when we succumb to spewing the loathsome and revolting rhetoric of hatred, divisiveness, bigotry.

we are what we sow.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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addling the addled. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

though i didn’t sign up for it, i receive emails from a source called uncover words. in the middle of the middle of all the chaos and destruction of this country, this is the word that i received one day recently: addle.

i could not help but grimace at the timing.

addle: to confuse or muddle; to make unable to think clearly.

gee…i wonder who that could describe.

might it be people who are being tossed around as if they are at the end of a crack-the-whip – flung from one inane or juicy-gossipy topic to another in an effort to cover up the really important things that are taking place in this country? might it be people who are absolutely and completely averse to fact-checking, to looking up anything that might distort their cultist admiring view of the current administration? might it be people who have been propagandized into sheer ignorance by watching a news channel that is overtly dedicated to the pedestalizing of this same administration? might it be people whose base anger has made them into spitting, spewing hate mongers? might it be people who react before thinking, who yell before talking, who see only red even when it brings harm to their very own families, people in their own communities?

to addle.

addled.

lost.

a second word in that email was maunder. maunder is a verb. it means to talk in a rambling manner, to wander aimlessly in speech or thought.

wow. that seems contemporaneously and politically connected to “addled”.

to maunder.

the addled.

to maunder to the addled.

to make the lost more lost.

hmmm.

a third word that came on that email was this: effulgence.

effulgence is a noun that is defined as: a brilliant radiance; a shining forth.

an auspicious word.

using that in a sentence:

let’s hope there is an effulgence that might awaken the addled among us.

yes.

otherwise, we are destined for this country’s democracy to be entirely mauled by a maunderer with a dedication to depraved darkness – the opposite of effulgence – while the shockingly addled stand by, complicit.

*****

read DAVID’s blog this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

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we do both. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

in true escapism fantasies we are either touring around in a tiny rv or we are hiking the pacific crest trail. both speak to us.

there is an obvious difference – the physical nature of the PCT is a tad bit more taxing than pulling a little rv around behind us.

in my dream, we do both.

and we never look at the news.

ever.

we just ride – or hike – off into the sunset, toting the minimum of stuff we need. we write, we paint, we compose, we take photographs. we drink coffee made over tiny ultralight stoves by streams and sip wine in canyonland blm sites. we hold witness to day in and day out.

we remember what is good, what is gloriously beautiful, what is real.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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birdwatchers by dna. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

i am surely turning into my parents. at least when it comes to their love of birds.

early this season – and after much research – we went to the nursery. we were set on purchasing trumpet-shaped salvia – for our hummingbirds. they didn’t have any but recommended cardinal flower, another flower that attracts these tiny birds.

we planted it in an old metal firepit out by the back fence next to the big leaf hosta, adjacent to the hummingbird feeder. and waited.

months. it has taken months for it to grow and to sport blooms. for a while we thought we would need to go find salvia, our original choice, to add to the planter. nothing was really happening with our cardinal flower.

until all of a sudden.

it shot up tall – almost as tall as the fence. and then, to the drumroll of the universe and its independent timing, stunning red blooms began to open. and, in a validating moment of glee, we watched a hummingbird hover next to multiple blooms and drink from them. finally.

this cardinal flower should have come with a note attached – “please be patient”. as it is a perennial, we hope it will return next year as well in this big metal urn. but we will plant some salvia just inside the perimeter of the urn next spring, because, well, we aren’t all that patient.

in the meanwhile, I’ve kept our red glass hummingbird feeder freshened and ready for any hummers on the move. it is completely delightful to watch them zoom in – they know the feeder is there – a tiny gps keeps track of these things in their tiniest brains. it never ceases to amaze us.

just like the birds who swoop in to the feeder out back or land on the edge of the birdbath, one of our favorite purchases from a couple years ago. they know. seemingly, word has spread to the house finches that we have grape jelly, word has spread to the sparrows we have dirtbath access, word has spread to the robins we have water to sip, word has spread to the cardinals we have easier access to food. because it is obvious that they know.

we couldn’t be more proud.

it starts for us when we wake to the sounds of early birds outside our windows. and, at the end of the day, out on the deck in the waning sun, we watch the swallows and bats compete for airspace while other birds seem to be finding shelter and places to rest.

yes, my parents used to sit for hours watching the birdlife. they seemed absolutely content, quietly observing and talking about feeders and birdhouses.

we totally get it now.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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holding light. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

the chipping-peeling-paint white cabinet spoke to me. it sat on top of a side table in the booth straight ahead of the walk-through from one building into the other at the antique shoppe. it had some sweet personality and i visited with it, lifting the old clasp handles to open it and peer inside. with shelves ready for stuff to be tucked away, this little cupboard charmed me.

i took a few photographs, noting the price, and we left.

i had an old aquarium stand next to my bed as my nightstand. it held a few photos and framed notes from my kiddos when they were little: “goodnight mom” and “mom” with hearts. it held a jelly jar with pens and pencils, a pair of readers. it held a small clock and a glass nightstand lamp that was my sweet momma’s. it held a box of tissues, babycat’s old “meow” bowl with trinkets and my earbuds. underneath, on the bottom glass shelf, it held a wooden crate that serves as a special box for earlier decades.

you may be getting the picture.

the fishtank stand held too much.

we visited the little white cupboard a second time, measuring it and taking more photographs, pondering.

we moved things around in the bedroom and i emptied the glass and wrought iron metal stand, paring down as i worked. and still pondering.

and then we went back to the antique shoppe – our favorite. i held my breath as we came around the corner to the place where you could see through the passageway into the other big room and into the booth where the little white cupboard still sat, patiently waiting.

and this third time, after a smidge of price negotiating, the little white cupboard came home.

because we do not have a matchy-matchy kind of bedroom suite, it seemed right to add this little cabinet to the old black-painted cedar chest that had been miss peggy’s from next door, the medium-toned wood dresser that had been lois’ before she left for overseas teaching forty years ago, the spring from my dad’s antique bassinet, holding tiny clothes-pinned handmade cards we’ve given each other. the live-life-my-sweet-potato print and the black and white canvas of babycat. the gingham print red and white wingchair lazyboy, the small black jewelry armoire i bought off marketplace, the pine cabinet from the town in the north carolina mountains where we bought property over four decades ago, the quilt a friend made when i broke both my wrists that graces the bed from which we removed the frame so it would be easier for our aging dogga to jump on and off. it is a venerable hodgepodge and we love it. the peeling-paint white cabinet is right at home.

we have always been drawn to items – particularly vintage – that are painted black. but lately, it seems, we are attracted to the things that are painted white, things that show life, things that have had some miles and some stories, some lovin’-on. but lighter, brighter.

and so these pure white flowers that are in our dear westneighbors’ yard are just exquisite to me. these hydrangea seem like the flowers of posies of love, of weddings, of hope. they bring a smile every time i pass by them, backing down or pulling into the driveway. such delicate beauty, these blossoms on shrubs where tiny birds gather.

maybe it’s the balance of light. this room – our house – has great sunlight streaming in many old double-hung windows. in these times, as we find ourselves slightly more insular – again – staying home with our old dogga – we are spending much time in the spaces of our home. the white fuzzy pillows, the white chunks of concrete, the old white door learning against the wall, the white throw, the white iron obelisk trellis…they hold light.

and right now – particularly right now – as we make our way through these times, it would seem important to gather around ourselves things that hold the light for us.

*****

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

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sweet tomato dreams. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

the tomato photo shoot. it was our first harvested cherry tomato from our lush and hearty plant that is tucked over by the fence next to the potting stand, sharing space with the ornamental grasses. before we tasted the produce we had grown, i wanted to capture its winning smile.

now, i’m not really a still-life kind of artist…i prefer more freedom…but this little tomato turned out to be quite a little starlet in this shoot and converted me – at least momentarily.

this little tomato was ultra sweet, having been warmed by a very hot sun and carefully tended. there are so many green orbs on this plant…we are anticipating a caprese salad or pasta. in the meanwhile, there is much to be said for the positive reinforcement of produce yielded from our attempts at growing.

“a dream doesn’t become reality through magic; it takes sweat, determination and hard work.” (colin powell)

it would seem to make complete sense to recognize that sweat, determination and hard work, but even i can attest to the fact that there are places of employ that simply disregard the success that has been created by someone working diligently and devotedly in their name.

it is the same that is happening right here, right now in this country. workers – important spokes in the societal wheel – are being tossed left and right, leaving literal and figurative produce to rot. profound medical research, critical environmental science, expansive educational ideology, the hard work of laboring in fields or restaurants or hospitality – these workers are finding themselves booted by someone whose excuse is – obviously – a vision that no longer aligns with theirs. for a country (or a community or an organization or corporation or any institution) that wishes to abdicate any formerly-intended mission, eliminate employees who are making a difference, cut corners and costs – biting their noses to spite their faces, stop forward movement, undermine the career paths of employees and send them careening, cruelly evict its dutiful people, is a country (or a community or an organization or corporation or institution) that has lost its way.

it is simpler out back in our tiny gardens. the basil and the rosemary and the cilantro and the jalapeños and the parsley and the mint and – yes – the cherry tomatoes grow. with our careful tending, vigilant watering and pruning, they reward us with bountiful produce. in turn, we do all we can to support their growth and they respond with healthy herbs and tomatoes. it is a cycle, an if this-then that, a very simplified conditional relationship predicated on a premise and a result. even any syllogism (major premise, minor premise, conclusion) about our garden would yield a productive conclusion, steps toward the dream.

i asked AI for a syllogism about the contemporary united states. this is what instantly popped up:

major premise: a healthy democracy relies on robust, respectful dialogue and a willingness to compromise for the common good.

minor premise: current political discourse in america often exhibits increased polarization and a decline in civility and compromise.

conclusion: therefore, the current state of american democracy faces significant challenges to its healthy functioning.

i fear that this – the fallout of this republic functioning as a democracy – is exactly the positive reinforcement – the dream – that this current administration is seeking.

and now – because i am overwhelmed by the corruption i have witnessed firsthand both as an employee and as a citizen – i am going back to tending my herbs and my sweet cherry tomatoes.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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holding onto henry. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

with a beaucoup of wishful thinking, i’m thinking we are there. at the lowest ebb. at the tide turning.

but the reality is that there are lower and lower ebbs – abyss-ebbs – inescapable rock-bottom ebbs – nadir-ebbs – and it appears that this administration is headed there.

i am holding onto henry wadsworth longfellow’s words. i am looking for – counting on – wholeheartedly relying on – desperately clinging to – the turn of the tide.

for surely we – as a nation – are better than this.

i hope.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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the colors of climate change. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

it was fuchsia the other morning.

dogga wakes us up quite early these days, so we generally see the sun rise out the east windows of our bedroom as we sip coffee. the other day it was fuchsia.

on the way out of the marina south of us a bit we drove west into the setting sun. the sky was copper and the sun was ringed with vermillion, countless other oranges on the spectrum striated in. it was like sherbet or hubbabubba, a rainbow-infused sky. each night and morning now it’s like fanta orange soda has come alive. it is quite the show.

but it shouldn’t be this way. it represents so much destruction by wildfire in our northern neighbor and it presents so much danger for anyone breathing this smoke-laden air.

we are watching the ever-growing effects of climate change – fires that are starting earlier, extending longer, more challenging, destroying millions of acres…this is “an objective truth“…higher temperatures, drier conditions are ripe for lightning strikes or human intention or error. the images of fires ravaging our own country are terrifying and the effects on wildlife and people are devastating.

so it is vivid. both the color spectrum of this threat and the threat itself.

it is distressing beyond belief and i agree with greta thunberg’s plea to mitigate this crisis: “panic, feel fear, and act!” i agree with leonardo dicaprio: “i believe humankind has looked at climate change … as if it were a fiction, happening to someone else’s planet, as if pretending that climate change wasn’t real would somehow make it go away. climate change is not hysteria – it’s a fact.”

in our little way we try to do our part. we don’t overbuy. we shop to a list and a menu and use it all. we purchase vintage often, rather than newly-produced products. we recycle and reuse and repurpose as is possible. we are currently in the over-a-thousand-dollar mark – and still rising – of ensuring that littlebabyscion is emission-safe. we pay attention to our energy consumption and to the footprint we are leaving behind.

i would be perfectly happy with the “normal” sunrise, the “normal” sunset. the colors of those are exquisite and hard to wrap words around, the air of those easier to breathe, the colors of the wind less caustic. certainly less urgent, less critical, less of a tipping-tipping point.

the objective truths are all around us. we need pay heed.

“each and every one of us can make changes in the way we live our lives and become part of the solution [to climate change]. “ (al gore)

“the greatest danger to our future is apathy.” (jane goodall)

“the environmental protection agency (EPA) said this week it would revoke its own ability to fight climate change. it’s the latest move in an extraordinary pivot away from science-based protections.” (inside the ‘radical transformation’ of america’s environmental role – david gelles & maxine joselow – the new york times – august 3, 2025)

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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and here we are. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

and here we are, short-term residents of planet earth, inhabiting relatively tiny spaces of dirt for relatively tiny spaces of time. it seems absolutely paramount to be considerate of this most-amazing place – to nurture it, protect it, sustain it – while we are here before we move on to whatever other dimension to which we pass.

it was in the most basic of childhood lessons i learned to clean up after myself. i learned not to be wasteful or disrespectful to the environment. i learned to be mindful of good practices of ecology, of thrifty reuse, of repurposing, recycling, of proper disposal. my sweet momma always taught me the importance of leaving a place better than i found it, a lesson of stewardship with a quote commonly attributed to robert baden-powell (of mount baden-powell fame), the founder of the scouting movement.

and here we are. it would seem to be our deigned responsibility to be adamantly, vociferously, actively committed to leaving this home place of ours – this community, this state, this nation, this earth – better than we found it.

we need wrap our time here in conscience, in honesty, in compassionate dedication to virtue, to morality, to the upholding of equality and the rights of people to live free of prejudice and abuse, to truth, to accountability.

we need commit to the acknowledgement of empirical evidence of human-based climate change, to intelligent, scientific efforts of atmospheric correction, to alternative ways of meeting present needs without compromise of the future, to preservation and sustainability, to a rabid promise for a clean earth.

it would seem we must leave behind us all the best we can – a place of peace and respect for all, a place that will meet the needs of, nurture and not harm our descendants – physically, psychologically, spiritually. we must safeguard a place that will selflessly forward goodness for all mother earth and its creatures, for all humanity, for all time.

to place feet on the ground, to dig in the dirt, to gaze at the sky, to breathe the air, to drink the water – it is all interconnected. we all share in its enduring legacy.

“leave it better than you found it.”

please.

anything less is shameful.

and here we are.

*****

(in significantly relevant-to-the-moment news, it is more than unfortunate – quite stunningly devastating – that it is apparent – with the advent of tens of thousands of sexual abuse cases against the boy scouts of america – that actual boy scouts have not been left better than thousands of scouting leaders found them. indeed, baden-powell would likely be horrified at this tragic twist in the organization he created, necessitating a $2.46 billion settlement for sexual abuse victims left worse than before their time in the boy scouts. and here we are.)

*****

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

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