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with barney. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

“the longer i live, the more beautiful life becomes.” (frank lloyd wright)

if it wasn’t ‘copying’ i would also get this inked on my body. but my beloved daughter – a bunch of years ago now – chose this as a tattoo and copying it – despite the clear wisdom of this quote – would be taboo.

it is intensely true.

the longer you live, the more beautiful life becomes.

if you take sweet time to notice.

in a most wonderful day tuesday we jaunted about, gathering knowledge and trying on new hiking boots. we joked about falling arches and bunions, our feet – somehow – getting substantially bigger, the trail-running we won’t attempt, heck, the running we will never do again, pinky toes resistant to closed shoes. it is somewhat liberating to not have the same expectations we once had. there is a different bar.

at the end of this wonderfulday i stepped outside and was struck by the moon. we immediately took off – practically sprinting (note: not running) – down the road to the lake, so that we could watch the harvest moon rise and feel its moonbeam as it chased us on the shoreline.

we sat on the deck after a long walk in perfect night air along the lake. and we celebrated our day. for in it we had tended to things that feed us – writing, exercising, eating well, planning for future hikes, laughing.

we know that our next will not resemble our past. we know that there are no corporate or organizational positions in our future. we know that aging is perceived differently by the hiring crowd than by the aging. we also know that we have aged each and every day of our lives so we don’t place parameters on what is possible. we don’t underestimate the wisdom of the ages or the insights of aging, though the word sort of makes me shudder.

and then I wonder why. why does the word “aging” give me a bit of the heebie-jeebies? I looked up the word. multiple sources. and each time i discovered that 65 is considered “elderly”. sheesh. no wonder ageism is alive and well in this country. developing nations base their assignment of old age on a person’s ability to actively contribute to society. though the united nations considers old age to be 60 and beyond, i also discovered research that suggests only a tiny percentage of adults 65 and older actually consider “old” to happen before the age of 60. we are most definitely in the camp that rejects old-before-old.

according to britannica.com, “there is no single theory that explains all of the phenomena of aging.”

no single theory. well, of course not!!

barney is still out back, soaking in summer sun and winter snow and everything in every season. he houses chippies and is a resting place for birds and scampering squirrels. he doesn’t serve as a piano now, but his soul is still a piano. barney is more beautiful than the day he came out of the dank basement boiler room and arrived in our backyard.

barney and i say, bring on the mystery!

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

listen to IT’S A LONG STORY: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ofvt66SA_4s

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old knobs. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

the drawer-pulls on my old dresser clattered. they were a little bit fancy and made of brass and i can still hear them in my mind – a repetitive clack-clack-clack when i closed the drawer. it was one of those big six-drawer dressers, wide and low with a big mirror in the middle. it was maybe mahogany and in my growing-up house this girl’s dresser-hand-me-down from my sister sat on my orange and green shag rug before i moved it to my first apartment. it wasn’t grossly oversized but it had plenty of space…places for delicates and t-shirts, jeans and shorts and – astoundingly – nothing was wrinkly when i extracted things from the drawers. i think i remember moving it to florida and then, somewhere along the line, it went back to my sister…this time for her little girl.

ahhh…the joy of having a big dresser should not be underestimated. i haven’t had a dresser with six drawers since.

i think of lois every time i open the dresser i have now owned for almost forty years. when she took a teaching job overseas, she gave me this dresser. is is solid, standardly narrow and upright and has five drawers with giant big wooden knobs and i share it with david. as you might suspect, he gets one drawer and i get four. i would venture to say that you might be shuddering to think of trying to fit all your dresser-stuff into four drawers. (not to mention his in one, but, hey, he’s a boyyy so he has significantly less dresser-drawer stuff.). before you get all judge-y, keep in mind, too, we have old-house-closets. any accumulation of clothing – is a challenge.

we went to a giant antique flea market at a neighboring county fairgrounds. there were over 500 vendors and it was ridiculously fun to wander around, reminiscing and laughing at some pretty weird old stuff, some stuff we still have, some stuff about which we had great stories to tell. as you know, antiquing is one of our favorite pastimes and being outdoors and antiquing together…well, a fine pairing.

when i came across the big bin of knobs, i could actually feel them in my hand without even touching them. they were smooth with history and the hands of all who tugged on them, the wood worn and any finish gone. as i stood there looking at them, i could not help but think of all the cabinets or dressers they graced in all their years. i thought about all the ways they have been replaced – contemporized – and the possibility that the pieces they came from – the chifferobe, the cupboard, the desk – may have been disposed of.

in all the years that i have had my dear friend’s dresser, i have thought many times about painting it, redoing it, replacing it, at the least, re-knobbing. i never did any of that. it’s still the same old dresser.

i can’t imagine how many stories this old dresser has in it. just like the dresser up in my son’s room – a hand-me-down from miss peggy from next door thirty plus years ago – i wonder how old these dressers are.

mostly i wonder about the hands that have touched this old knobs. like all the old doorknobs in our house, i see these as diligent and sturdy; they have done their jobs year after year, decade after decade.

the history just danced in the box in front of me. so much potential. so many drawers and doors. i thought about who might purchase that box of knobs, where the old knobs would end up.

and i was suddenly glad that I hadn’t changed the ones on our dresser.

*****

read david’s thoughts this two-artists-tuesday

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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.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2023 kerrianddavid.com


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the holidays. messy. [merely-a-thought monday]

we have a small stack of unopened envelopes on the counter. it’s a stack of holiday cards and we’re saving it for closer to christmas. opening these while sitting together will seem like a visit from these people we care about at a time when visits are scarce and time together is minimal. these cards will help.

because these holidays are messy.

we’ve been succumbing to the hallmark channel. it has been both delightful and a disservice, a bar we cannot touch, with families gathered around roaring fireplaces with cocoa, around kitchen counters icing cookies, around the town square christmas tree singing, around the tree farm choosing the exact right tree to cut down, dancing at the christmas ball. our hearts soar with these picturesque modern-day norman-rockwells and yet…

because the holidays are messy.

in my mind’s eye i can create all kinds of wondrous times – with our children, our extended families, our friends. i envision everyone here at home or at a giant cabin in the mountains with snow gently falling outside, arriving at the door with ecstatic hugs of anticipation. i can hear laughter and records spinning and song and many shared old stories. i catch a whiff of the fireplace and the cocoa, early morning coffee brewing like in all the old folgers commercials, the turkey or ham or lasagna in the oven, snickerdoodles and peanut butter cookies with hersheys kisses and krumkake baking. i can feel the excitement with everyone throwing wrap on the floor, bows and ribbons flying, opening thoughtful gifts. i can see evidence of our angels in the air, my sweet momma and poppo, columbus, my big brother, grandparents, even our babycat. i blink and i’m back. like many of you, i know this wondrous time, though perhaps entirely possible someday, is – again – not reality.

because the holidays are messy.

in this final stretch to christmas i know that expectations are high and disappointment is higher. the simplest moments that our hearts desire are somehow unattainable and complex. it is not an easy time and it is on the heels of a not-easy year for so many, including us.

the holidays are messy.

so we keep the small stack of cards and wait to open them. we sit at the end of the evening in the living room lit by the lights of our tree and the white branches of previous years. we write cards and sticker envelopes and wrap packages and ship. we, like you, try to immerse in both memory-rituals and new traditions, try to make-the-best-of-it. we know that time marches on, too quickly-quickly. in looking back we all know how fast ahead goes. we wish for the holidays we can see – but not quite touch – in our mind’s eye. we know that angst and worries and loneliness and exhaustion and issues and comparisons and striving for perfection and dismaying sadness are not supposed to be a part of the holiday spirit, yet we see tidbits of these shades of blue as we look around. we work to move in grace and trust and hold unconditional love as guiding forces.

we hope for less-messy another year.

i believe the cardinals out back at the pond came to reassure me.

*****

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