reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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a little somethin’ sweet. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

about dessert, my sweet momma always said, “it’ll slide down and fill in the crevices!!!” yes, yes, the perfect way to feel fulfilled for a momma who had feeding-people as one of her love languages.

we try not to overeat. we try to make healthy choices. we try to maintain a good dietary balance of fruits and vegetables, lean meats, grains, nuts, blahblahblah. but, sometimes, we have had just a littletoomuch cheese and crackers for snacktime, a littletoomuch wine at happy hour, a littletoomuch chicken soup at dinner and we are inordinately – like thanksgiving’s troubled tale – stuffed.

we try to take a walk in these moments. try to work off the excess. try to believe we will make better decisions next time. yadayadayada.

and then, one of us remembers.

that in recent weeks – we succumbed to the talenti frozen nondairy sorbetto – and that it is sitting patiently awaiting us in our freezer – the one that occasionally forgets it’s a freezer and leaks water onto the floor. a little somethin’ sweet.

the food-guilt is not as powerful as the sorbetto-yearning here, i guess, so we succumb.

because a little coffee sorbetto will merely slide down and fill in the crevices.

you were right, my sweet momma. as usual.

*****

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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.

*****

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

sometimes we get carried away. we think we are still – say – in our thirties – or maybe forties – eh, even our fifties – and we get in littlebabyscion and just driiiiive. without stopping. we love a good roadtrip!

this is no longer what it used to be.

it USED to be that we could drive looongdistance without getting out to stretch. it USED to be that we could drive looongdistance and sip on venti coffees to our heart’s content. it USED to be that we could drive looongdistance without finding restrooms. it USED to be that we’d drive looongdistance and snack our way across the country. it USED to be that we could blithely hop out of the vehicle at any point and skip around the rest area. it USED to be that we could drive late into the wee hours of the night and still be wide awake. it USED to be we could drive 17 or 19 hours in a day. it USED to be that we were intrepid.

this is no longer what it used to be.

now, we drive, still snacking our way across the country because some things never change. but after about two hours we stop. we locate a restroom. we slooowly peel ourselves off the seat of the car and unbend our bentbodies. we stretch, groaning. we ponder walking away from the car. maybe we get a lesssssliquid espresso. we study google maps. we calculate our next stop. we check on when the sun is setting. we take a deep breath. we drive again. and repeat. and we love it! even now.

roadtrips r us.

but they’re no longer what they used to be.

*****

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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.

*****

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our whole world. samesies. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

his amber eyes are mesmerizing. his double coat of hair is as beautiful as it is plentiful. his heart is huge and his sensitivity is tuned in. his quirks are numerous and his dedication is steadfast. he is always present and only rests when he feels like he is finally off-duty at 8:30, his self-chosen bedtime. he’s taught us more than i could possibly write about.

he’s been central since he arrived. in everything. it’s one of those miracles that he’s here – with us. it’s one of those time-warpy things we realize it’s been ten years. already. and so soon.

what our dogga doesn’t realize, maybe, is that he is our whole world just as much as we are his. samesies.

*****

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

and so, the wistfuls start.

we could feel it in the air the other morning. stunningly sunny, a cool air wrapped itself around me as i stepped out onto the deck to watch dogga greet his day. the coffee was brewing and the ‘hood was quiet.

and suddenly, it was obvious.

summer is coming to a close.

and we grasp onto those last days. we are in wonder about how it is possible that the summer has gone by. we stare ahead – into the galaxy of sky – pondering what is to come.

and we do the one sure thing.

we keep holding onto each other – hand in hand – all of us – in the racing flight of time.

*****

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still relevant. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

it’s a true story. we’ve had plenty of heat index temperatures higher than normal. everywhere. even in wisconsin. so the other day, anticipating two full heat-dome days of feels-like temps of 110 plus, we looked at our little old a/c unit in the window and figured it was time to turn it on. ahead of time. to get a jump on the oppressive heat.

it’s an old unit – 20 years old, maybe older – and it was going to have a big job to do. the more recent air conditioners clearly are more efficient, energy-wise. they are maybe sleeker looking. perhaps they blend in better and are less noisy. they have different components than ours, different mechanisms.

our old amana window air conditioner is simply a workhorse. it cools. it is dedicated to cooling a room. it gets the job done. we have not devalued it because of the year it was built or the time it has spent as an air conditioner.

we stood in the dining room – by the window where the unit is installed – and proudly looked at our old air conditioner. in a fast and ever-changing world, it might seem beyond its time, beyond working well.

but it is dutifully unfaltering. its old-air-conditioner-wrinkles belie its steadfastness, its expertise at cooling. it has experience, history, tenure doing its work in the world. at this moment in time, to us, the people who wish it – need it – expect it – to do really good work, it is clearly invaluable.

it may not be a younger air conditioner, but – particularly on these 110 degree days – it is mighty relevant. i’m happy we are smart enough to recognize that.

and this, my dear friends, is the fable of two people in their 60s out in the heat-dome of the work world.

*****

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TLC. [saturday morning smack-dab.]

so right now we have harvested four tomatoes. i know that four tomatoes does not a stockpot of marinara sauce make. but these four tomatoes count and later today we will place them on a special plate and have them with our lunch, delicious-homegrown-bite by delicious-homegrown-bite.

our basil and flat-leaf oregano and rosemary have gone to town and are a delight to use in recipes. our mint insists on flowering and is kind of spindly. (yes, yes, i know the flowering part sort of causes this, but no amount of cutting back seems to help.) and our tomato plant – well, despite our best efforts at loving this little potting stand garden to fruition, it’s eking out very few tomatoes. that’s ok. we still are in awe of the whole process, and watch, in utter happiness, as our little garden grows.

there’s a guy on youtube who is hiking the colorado trail. more than once we have heard his mantra: what goes around, comes around. he is in the practice of doing good deeds for others, on the trail and off. and he recognizes each time someone does something for him, or the universe tilts in his favor. i’m betting he would love our little garden too. not necessarily for its tomato and herb yield, but because of the tender loving care we are putting into it and the joy it is bringing us.

i’m thinking that’s true of most things you tenderly and lovingly care for.

it’s not the marinara sauce that matters.

*****

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what i need. [saturday morning smack-dab.]

i am a homebody. i truly love home.

but – juxtaposed on the same life-wave-riding surfboard – i love to get away. i love roadtrips and adventure, exploring backroads, immersing in new places. though i am fed noticing the extraordinary in the familiar, i thrive on images of the unfamiliar. more than once i have cried entering a canyon or at mountain-range first glimpse or surrounded by the scent of a lodgepole pine forest or the quiet of an empty trail or the quaking of aspen leaves.

so i yearn for these places – the ones we have been to and have loved and the ones we dream about.

i’m not high-maintenance when it comes to vacations. i’m not a resort-type or a cruise-type, not a disney-type or an amusement-park-type. i don’t need all-inclusive or my bed turned-down. i don’t need all-you-can-eat-any-time-of-day-or-night. i don’t need fancy or plush or luxurious. i definitely don’t need contrived.

it’s pretty simple. what i do need – is a little or big getaway. short distance, long distance. time to leave, see new things, experience new places, feel the sun from a different latitude or longitude. and then time to go home and feel the hygge that is ever-present back here, the moments that go by perhaps a little underappreciated, to feel the here and now without regret or longing, a chance to revive my homebody-ness.

*****

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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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SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2023 kerrianddavid.com