reverse threading

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Tag Archives: not-so-flawed wednesday


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wiper wisdom. [kerri’s blog on not-so-thawed wednesday]

it is most definitely a wisconsin thing.

never before – in all my years of winter in New York – did i see anyone ever stand their windshield wipers up.

now, i suppose it could be a contemporary thing – which would explain why i didn’t see it in my growing-up years. perhaps someone somewhere decided that rather than ripping frozen rubber wipers off their windshield – necessitating new wipers – they would attempt to avoid the freezing-onto-the-windshield by standing their wipers up. however it came about, having spent long periods of time freezing and trying to de-ice my wipers, i have to admit that it’s a good idea.

so we have joined whatever masses out there do this thing and, because we don’t garage littlebabyscion or big red, they are outside – anytime we are not driving them -with their wipers at attention.

already this winter we have had two significant snowstorms and extended frigid temperatures. it is only the beginning of december. though this does not bode well for people sans snowblowers – like us – it is opportunity ripe for successful wiper-freezing-avoidance.

back in the days of selling cds at retail show after retail show after retail show i stumbled upon a vendor selling round cone-shaped ice scrapers. i watched the video demonstrating this handy device. once again, this time in utter scraper-ignorance, i had never seen such a thing but it turned out to be pretty remarkable and i bought several and gave them to family and friends. we still have one and i just looked them up online – they are readily available.

my sweet dad always had tips for me – things he (strongly) suggested i do as i travel around, words of wisdom. “Keep kitty litter in your car,” “buy a telescoping shovel for the car,” “put blankets in the car,” “make sure you have a working flashlight since it gets dark early”. i am unable to start winter without – still – following his advice. living his retirement in florida, he was just happy to relinquish all his winter-knowledge to the sun gods and me. and he bought one of those folding dashboard sunshades, some kind of unwritten law in the baking-sun sunshine state.

so I don’t know if you do the standing-up-windshield-wiper thing. if you live in wisconsin and your vehicle is outside i suppose there’s a pretty good chance you do. these regional trends are powerful.

besides, you don’t want to be caught out there with your magical cone-scraper trying to get your soon-to-be-de-rubbered wipers unfrozen off your windshield. i mean, one can only handle so much failure dealing with winter. and the town snowplow coming down the snow-filled road right after you cleared the apron of the driveway is more than enough stress.

*****

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

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if we were featherdusters. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

and what if we, like the sweet autumn clematis, were each merely one featherduster, one long, wispy tendril birthed from a maroon-brown pod joined with other maroon-brown pods on a single branch of a single vine.

what is it we would do with our wispiness, our soft fluffy plumes, tiny jet engines to propel us near and far? what seeds would we disperse, what knowledge would we dispense, what silvery sheen would we spread?

what would we choose to do with our one, wild featherduster life, our one journey through air, aided by wind, abetted by the twirling of our feathertail? where would we go, what jet stream would we join? what earth song would we sing? what would we touch – ever so lightly – brushing past, barely felt, a tickle of plume?

what if that were all we had? would we join with all the other featherdusters, an intertwined community seeding community? or would we spend our time engaged in disjointed competitive infighting with the others? would we choose a path on which we might twirl through together or would we choose to shoot off, like that one plane in a memorial fly-by, forging a new trail in air, bushwhacking through underbrush? what would our desire path be?

what if that had been our passage in this place? what if our featherduster existence had been it? would we have been all in? would we have given our best? would we have embraced seeding more clematis – like seeding more shimmery goodness? or would we have held back, continually waiting for something glorious to happen, for better weather, or for whatever later might be?

*****

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

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

this is called ‘the babycat chair’. though many would have disposed of it years ago, we held onto it…homage to our babycat.

for some reason, he chose this chair – and really, no others – well, to be accurate, he did have a bit of a relationship with the red gingham wingchair recliner in our bedroom. this was his to do with as he pleased, i guess.

babycat would just arbitrarily start scratching the back of this wicker chair. maybe it was when i hadn’t recently cut his dagger-nails, counting as i clipped – 1, 2, 3… – each paw a new 5-count, with his patience on the edge and his teeth locked around my hand holding him. treacherous stuff, but i knew i was in no peril. (though, in retrospect, as i look at this chair-destruction, i can see he was pretty capable of much peril, after all.)

when he’d start clawing the back of this chair, dogga would become instantly nervous, knowing instinctively that b-cat was ‘gonna get in trouble’. dogga would run over and push b-cat aside or pull him by the neck away from the chair entirely. the first time we saw him pulling the cat around the wood floor by his neck, we were totally scared and stopped him. but babycat would go back for more and the dog-pulling-the-cat-around-by-his-neck game would go on and on – for years and years – these two best friends playing and teasing each other.

we put a throw blanket on the chair – and a few pillows – to try and hide the missing wicker, hoping no one would fall through entirely if they chose to sit in the chair. it was really the back of the chair that was the worst – well, and the one side – but babycat had not clawed through the bottom, so this guest-ending-up-on-the-floor thing wasn’t really a big worry.

babycat died unexpectedly in march 2021 and took parts of our hearts with him. he had been with me (and then us) for about twelve years and was a true saving grace for me in his years. i’m not sure how i would have survived many of those years without his lumbering, hulking tuxedo-cat self keeping close to me. we still miss him. both of us. and, for dogga, it’s exponential. babycat was his bestest friend.

in these days of cleaning out, we (or i) have to keep making decisions about things that have threadiness written all over them. this chair has been one of them. do we keep it or do we move on?

knowing that many people are capable of fixing things or repurposing things or utilizing the materials of things, we placed the chair – after i did a photo shoot of it – at the curb. it is never more than a couple hours before someone picks up the things at the curb.

but no one picked up the chair. we talked about breaking it down and placing it in the trash. for perhaps, there was nothing really reusable about it.

in the end, we brought it back up the driveway. it is now at the top of the driveway, adjacent to the garage and the fence, next to the birdfeeder. we haven’t really talked about what’s next for it. but as we pass by on the way from the back door to littlebabyscion or big red, it always makes me smile.

the babycat chair lives on.

*****

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

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tacet season. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

in the initial moments when we clear our barnwood potting stand – pull all the plants for composting, stack the clay pots and garden tools to be put away, brush off the stand, close the wrought iron gate, and then step back – i feel a sadness for the loss of our tiny garden. this year yielded a wild crop of herbs and tomatoes, jalapeños and lavender. we thoroughly enjoyed our sweet potato vines and our miniature licorice plant, the sweet dianthus, our peonies. this summer’s heat and humidity was a boon to our backyard. so it is somewhat hard to see it ending.

but the tacet of our garden – after such an amazing fully-bloomed tutti – is just as important in its performance. the quiet of this time will serve to gather its energy, to bring impact to subsequent growth, to give rest to roots bound by pots.

this winter we will propagate some of our summer plants. it is a new venture, introduced to us by the gift of our dear friend – a small indoor greenhouse. we will be learning what these tiny plants need, trying to help them root, keep them alive, bring them back – out of silence – to a spring in which we have a bit of a headstart.

the clearing of our house is kind of like that, too, as we move from room to room, closet to closet, drawer to drawer, bin to bin. we are still in phase one of all this, but each bit of giveaway, of throwaway, of repurposing gives air to some more space and in that space i can hear the vibrations of possibility gathering.

there are two new fuzzy white pillows in my studio on a metal strapped swivel patio chair we brought up from the basement. it feels like sitting in that chair – sinking in – could lend itself to the expression of the tacet i’ve been in, the long time of fallow. i don’t know what that means. it could just mean gaining clarity. it could mean setting it all aside. it could mean a few new notes that lead to a few new songs. the times d mentions the word “when” i counter with the word “if” because i really don’t know. there’s been a lot of pain and the wounds haven’t yet healed over. the tacet and my reticence continue.

but the potting stand reminds me: even after a period of silence, a period of fallow and nothing really happening, there is actually much in play. energy is stoking up. the time of rest is giving import to the time of sprouting. and, though this summer’s heat and humidity were incredibly generative – much like the middle years of my artist life – so will be next summer’s heat and humidity, even if the conditions are different, even if the heat and humidity are less intense. it is still a growth season.

just like now. the season has not ended with the pulling of plants from pots. negative space defines positive space, silence creates tension, the narrative of our plants continues.

just like mine. i am still in a season of growth.

*****

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

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

it is rare that grocery shopping delivers such gloriousness. really, i would say, it is never. even though i celebrate the tiniest things – like a minimally-loaded cart that doesn’t add up to over $100. rare, like i said.

but on this day – walking out of woodmans market – into the early evening, ten minutes before 5pm on the first day post-time-change – we both stopped in our tracks.

there was another guy standing there as well – frozen – like when you used to play red-light-green-light-one-two-three as kids.

i instantly reached down and pulled the phone out of my purse, my eyes never leaving the stunningly radiant sky. we all oohed and ahhed together, incredulous at the sunset.

the horizon and the sun stared back, wondering at how this sunset was different than any other they performed.

and we…well…we remembered that – in addition to all the relationship woes this time of great division and angst brings – we could still stand with a stranger and acknowledge beauty that eclipses everything.

*****

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

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tiny gestures. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

“the smallest act of kindness is worth more than the greatest intention.” (khalil gibran)

it had been a long day. a very long day that was preceded by other very long days. we were tired and road-weary. the last couple hours were brutal. at one point i just wanted to stop in the middle of a dark intersection and weep. we kept on.

when we finally got there – after driving through corn-edged roads with slices of moonlight shining on the asphalt – i pulled the truck onto the gravel drive and – without any finessing to my parking – just stopped, more than ready to get out.

we opened the tiny cottage door, taking a breath, knowing that – sometimes – a place to land is merely that and nothing more – just a place to land.

in the moment of stepping over the threshold, it was instantaneous. the little cottage reached out and held us as we entered, its every detail thoughtful and comforting.

we wandered room to room – the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, the bedroom. everything was impeccable. we were struck by the abundance offered in this place, instead of the sometimes helter-skelter just-enough conglomeration of furnishings, decor, necessities.

we stood in the bathroom by the cabinet, literally stunned by the stacks of thick, fluffy towels on its shelves. we had just come from a rented place where the towels were thin, musty, ragtag – the sort of towels we have downstairs in our laundry room for cleanup duties not guests.

we had a small dinner – on plates and glasses that neatly filled the kitchen cupboards, at a table with flowers and napkins, adjacent to a counter with a basket full of snacks.

but it was when we got ready for bed that really got to me, that helped me exhale my held breath and granted me a new, big, deep breath.

there on a giant scrumptious bed – with a thick comforter and quilt and multiple pillows – were two andes candies.

the tiniest sweet gesture.

yes, we paid to stay at this beautiful cottage that perched on a hillside above the river boasting plentiful water fowl and eagles. but we’ve also paid to stay at many, many other places. truth be told, we usually like them all, finding charm in the location, the aged history, the quirk. even when there’s only one spoon or one glass, a hodgepodge of plastic plates, not enough lights.

but when you are as embraced by a place as we were that night, you are reminded that going the extra mile is worth it. that any hospitality we might offer others – whether as a generosity or paid – whether near or far – whether beloved or stranger – should be considered, heartfelt, gracious, unsparing.

even the tiniest of gestures. like a couple andes candies.

because many people these days – in places all over the world – feel like weeping in the middle of a dark intersection.

*****

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

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burst past little-life. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

there were multiple times – when my sweet momma was here on this earth – that i brought her yellow roses. they were something special between us – an expression of love between mother and daughter.

yellow roses have a different significance than red. they are indicative of friendship, the deep bonds of love, warmth and joy, fresh starts, gratitude, hope. i read that in japan yellow roses symbolize courage and inner strength.

months ago, a dear friend gave me a small mini yellow rose plant, likely purchased at the floral section of a grocery store. it had several miniature yellow roses blooming and several buds in the waiting when i received it and i figured that it – like other more temperamental plants – would run its course.

it is months later. and the yellow rose is still in its original pot. it appears to love its residence next to the old garden table, on the deck, sharing a bit of space with the basil. it has flourished – bud after bud, bloom after bloom. it has embraced life beyond our expectation. even now, with its leaf-nod to the approaching fall, it has three buds – three bursts of beauty in the offing.

and, every day i look at it i think of my sweet momma. and i wonder about how this particular plant has been so resilient. i wonder if it had a littlebitta help from her.

i wonder if this plenty – this profusion of buds and blooms are tiny messages from her – sent in love, delivering bravery and perseverance. they are certainly well-timed.

and – if my sweet momma is the one whose green thumb from some other plane of existence has helped along this little plant aspiring to burst past what’s expected, to burst past little-life – i remember she is the same woman who wrote: don’t underestimate me…

*****

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

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timed well. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

because we really needed to, we went for a hike that day. we went to the trail where we have processed much life. because this was a day in which we needed just that – a place to process.

the first snake we encountered was motionless, but in the dirt of the path. we gently lifted it and placed it in the trailside vegetation, out of harm’s way. the second and third snakes were also in the middle of the trail and we moved them as well, for there were several bikers zooming their way around and we were worried these snakes wouldn’t be visible in time.

and then there was the praying mantis. there it was, just waiting for us as we rounded the bend. it allowed me to get up-close, taking several pictures of it – its forelegs folded as it watched for prey. it looked at over at me and i talked to it, a tiny bit envious of its ability to remain zen-like in such an uncertain moment.

repositioning the praying mantis would have been much more difficult than the snakes, so we didn’t move it and we hoped that it would nimbly move on – with its impossibly delicate, needle-thin legs – across the trail in its quest for food.

we looked for our mantis the second time around our looped trail but it had disappeared. it left us with its memory – a rare sight for us – and with affirmation, symbolic meanings that were, indeed, timed well.

for praying mantis encounters symbolize things like good luck and stillness, spiritual guidance and courage and strength. we read that it also can be indicative of divine protection, a messenger.

praying mantises are masters of disguise – blending in. they are still and patient; their camouflage in nature – looking like twigs or grass – helps them find prey. this graceful green creature – showing up to us on the anniversary of the day of d’s dad’s passing – seemed serendipitous.

to be mindful and still, patient and strong and courageous…in the middle of uncertainty…all the messages we needed on that very day.

“i go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order.” (john burroughs)

*****

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

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

we didn’t expect this when we planted the sweet potato that had grown hot pink tendrils in the wire basket hanging in the basement stairwell. we actually had no idea what to expect. but we had a couple planters and some good dirt, no expectations and – importantly – curiosity.

we watched this planter – literally – every single day. we noted as the pink shoots stood tall through the dirt and then grew the tiniest leaves. i took photographs as it began to grow; it seemed exponentially enthusiastic. we were enchanted.

we still are.

there are now three – actual potatoes – planted in two different planters just off the deck.

and every day we go out our back door we pass by these sweet potato plants. every day we are greeted with their heart-shaped leaves. every day, hearts.

curiosity is a funny thing. it would have been easier to toss the sweet potatoes that had gone beyond or, if not too far gone, cut off the sprouts and check the rest for spoilage. but we were curious. these little guys had sprouted in what seemed like overnight in our stairwell. with plants having that kind of zealous intention and fortitude, we wondered what might happen if we planted them.

this tiny observance – paying attention to these tiny pink sprouts – brought us on a journey a good deal of the summer. we watched, we researched, we celebrated these sweet potatoes.

most of all, we learned.

it’s not to be underestimated – curiosity.

its energy begets more energy.

there’s no telling what can happen when curious people get together and set no limits on their questioning, their poking and prodding, their research and experimentation, their inquisitiveness.

“the mind that opens to a new idea never returns to its original size.” (Albert Einstein) “the important thing is not to stop questioning. curiosity has its own reason for existing.”

*****

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

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buymeacoffee is a website where you may directly support an artist whose work directly impacts you.


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buckle up. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

it’s a new season. the signs are all around us. the windows are open, letting in cool breezes.

and yesterday – of all days – i opened instagram to the suggested reel of a small child i had never seen before, never heard of.

there she was – the tiniest little imp of a girl – all buckled into her carseat, saying: “you can’t worry about what other people think. i mean, have you MET other people?”

this darling little girl – maybe 4 or 5 in this video.

and then, a few more words, words to work on taking straight into my heart:

“people don’t have to like you. people don’t have to love you. they don’t even have to respect you. but when you look in the mirror you better love what you see…you better love what you see.”

red leaves. windows open. wise words.

it is a new season. buckle up.

*****

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

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

buymeacoffee is a website where you may directly support an artist whose work directly impacts you.