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seeing. not seeing. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

i wear one contact lens. it’s in my left eye and it is to correct minor nearsightedness. wearing only one contact allows me to use my other eye to see close-up – to mostly be able to read without the aid of readers. somehow my brain figures this all out and i don’t have to close my right eye while driving or my left eye while reading – because all that would be awkward and weird.

clear vision – particularly at night in the rain with orange construction barrels and no streetlights and lane lines worn to little or no paint – is essential. it’s my least favorite set of circumstances to drive in, discounting white-out snowstorms and ice. it’s nice to be able to see.

and for those days when contacts are not working – the days of allergies or tired eyes – i have a pair of backup john-denver-glasses to don while driving. because it’s essential to see.

we just read the little prince aloud together. i don’t remember crying at the end any other time i have read this book. but this time i did.

as the prince’s soul was whisked away – his body dying on the earth by snakebite – back to his tiny planet where his tiny beloved rose waited – i wiped tears from my eyes.

this simple book – supposedly a children’s book but so much a necessary read-every-once-in-a-while adult’s book – was just the thing. the nature of love. of relationship. of responsibility toward each other.

the louisiana governor just declared that the ten commandments shall be displayed in every school in his governance. for heaven’s sake. how is it that we have become this narrow? for starters, how audacious he ignore every other religion’s tenets. this is not visionary. this is not seeing.

perhaps he would be better served to declare the little prince essential reading. he would be better served to encourage his populace to look with their hearts, to value the basics of goodness and fairness and loving one another. but in these days of politicizing every single thing, i guess he just decided to go with narrow bigotry to see where it might get him. narcissistic power is on the rise. as is the popularity of meanness and aggression. and the little prince shudders.

i’m pretty sure the little prince made me cry because of just that. there is so much – out there. we are hearing every single horrid thing. media is having a field day and it’s horrifying just to phone-scroll the “news”. what we see…what we find there…unconscionable.

instead, we will find the richness in the elderly woman pushing her walker on the trail, her son by her side, chatting. we will find the generosity in the gift of a garden flower. we will find kindness in the invitation of inclusion. we will find concern in the check-in text of an old friend. we will find hope in the little-less-lonely uplift of voice on the phone. we will find resilience in the planting of trees, the naming of stars, the grieving expression of loss. we will find forgiveness in time spent together. we will find healing in turning toward and not away. we will find love in another’s eyes.

the little prince – tiny, tiny. but with a giant and sighted heart.

we need to really look and see – what is transparent, what is truth, what is life-giving, what is equitable and not limiting, what is sustaining, what is fair, what is kind, what is loving – with clear eyes and whatever wisdom of the ages we might summon. we need to ponder and sort and be honest. what we may lose otherwise are the essentials. the basics. the geared-down actual heart of humanity.

read the little prince. you’ll likely weep a little.

*****

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

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in the thick. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

“you are not only responsible for what you say, but also for what you do not say.” (martin luther)

january 8. we are a week into the new year. we are in the thick – in the territory of resolutions – things we will do, things we won’t do, things we wish to change.

in the way of good conversation at dinner the other night, 20 showed us a photograph of martin luther with this quote. we all shook our heads in agreement. moral silence, not speaking truth to power, not speaking against injustice or wrongdoing or marginalization – a key figure of the protestant movement (and even more specifically – what became the lutheran church) had a few things to say about that. we spent a bit of time swimming in this.

because we are in the thick.

we just passed by the third anniversary of the insurrection of our country’s capitol. white christian nationalism has upped the ante on the lack of moral responsibility – with silence, divisive words, blunt negation of the events of this day. where are the martin luthers of the day? seems a bit antithetical…with a big dollop of hypocrisy to boot.

but we need not be in the nation’s capitol to witness irresponsible words or irresponsible silence. we need not be traipsing down pennsylvania avenue to be in the thick – to be complicit, to be implicitly consenting, to actively perpetuate that which is dangerously wrong. we need merely to look around – closer in – at our own state, city, community, the organizations in which we are involved. 

we are in the thick – of the new year. it would seem the most important things we might do – as we start down the 2024 road – is to be certain to be aware, be informed, ask questions, avoid making assumptions or just believing what we are told. it would seem important that we speak up, speak out, speak for, speak against injustice, wrongdoing, marginalization, agenda, a lack of transparency, discrimination, abuse, evil. 

for in speaking up or out or for or against – in seeking truth, advocating for truth, insisting on truth – as citizens of this land, our states and our communities, as conscientious participants in organizations and institutions – we would be doing the responsible thing. 

and in not? the converse – irresponsible. 

martin’s words remind us to think about where – in the thick – we resolve to stand.

*****

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

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we aren’t the only ones. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

we aren’t the only ones.

predatory-lending student loans. it’s not like i haven’t written about this before, most notably from a post called “sense?” on october 24, 2022:

“predatory lending in the student loan arena began around 2000. the arrow of the poison bow hit david in graduate school. it has not let go since. navient – one of the big student loan lenders – took part in subprime loans, private loans, misrepresented loans, aggressive forbearance-steering, sloppy accounting, the list goes on. and people’s lives – real people in the real world trying to make a real living and pay off real debt – have been skewered forever. crushing debt…in story after story in which interest is principalized, in which families aren’t given income-driven options, in which the debt rises instead of falls even as diligent efforts are made to pay down this farce of lending.”

and so now – after enormous governmental party-line fights to help-no!-help-no! we are back there, facing down a ridiculously ballooned forbearance-steered-misrepresented-principalized-interest-unforgiven set of loans.

and we aren’t the only ones.

it’s pretty overwhelming. it’s middle-class america.

we’ve consolidated, paid thousands extra when we could, applied for limited pslf and hope the idr count catches up. i have read student loan op-eds, student loan announcements, student loan laws, hundreds of student loan articles. i’ve placed phone calls and have more-to-dial on my list-of-things-to-do.

and the billing statement arrived.

there’s not much more deflating than treading water when the shore isn’t visible.

and we aren’t the only ones.

we have been the recipients of snarky comments about responsibility and snide remarks about artists and money-budgets. we have been sneered at and scoffed at. mostly by people who haven’t asked any questions – a recurring theme – by people who don’t understand – nor want to understand – what has actually happened in the warped world of student lending.

and we aren’t the only ones.

right now, the statement says we’ll pay david’s loans off in 2048 with an additional $40,000+ in more interest. but “student loans were never meant to be a life sentence,” (united states secretary of education miguel cardona.) we will be 87 and 89 in 2048.

this isn’t a funny SMACK-DAB. it’s not touching or poignant. but it is real. it is reality for millions of people victimized by dysfunctional practices – student loan malpractice – the government should have overseen.

we aren’t the only ones.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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a visit with RBG. [not-so-flawed wednesday]

she was out on the deck, momentarily. stopping by to give me words of wisdom and courage, former u.s. supreme court justice ruth bader ginsburg stood in the sunshine. she leaned over, in emphasis, and the sun streamed through her collar, reflecting through the window onto our dresser. i held her words close to me. she reminded me, “but when i talked about sex-based discrimination, i got the response, ‘what are you talking about? women are treated ever so much better than men!’” then we both laughed, her eyes gleaming with the intelligent fight of a strong woman.

ruth continued, her sage words a repetition of something she had said, quoted back in 2020, “it’s an unconscious bias. it’s the expectation. you have a lowered expectation when you hear a woman speaking; i think that still goes on. that instinctively when a man speaks, he will be listened to, where people will not expect the woman to say anything of value. but all of the women in my generation have had, time and again, that experience where you say something at a meeting, and nobody makes anything of it. and maybe half an hour later, a man makes the identical point, and people react to it and say, ‘good idea.’ that, i think, is a problem that persists.”

her parting words, before she vanished from our deck, before her tatted collar no longer formed a sunlit shadow on our dresser, “whatever you choose to do, leave tracks. that means don’t do it just for yourself. you will want to leave the world a little better for your having lived.” i nodded. it’s our responsibility as women (and yes, as men) to make sure that we leave to those behind us a place that is better for those who follow, a place that is transparent and that rebels against agenda, a place that treats all fairly, a place that is dedicated to the resolution of conflict, a place of compassion and truth. her gaze was steady before she disappeared, encouraging me to stay grounded, to “breathe free,” to “speak your mind, even if your voice shakes.”

“i would like to be remembered as someone who used whatever talent she had to do her work to the very best of her ability.”

hell yes, RBG!!!

*****

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


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pussywillows. [k.s. friday]

with gordon lightfoot crooning in my ear, i stroked the pussywillows on the trail. i can’t remember seeing these on trail before. i know i would have noticed – their softness begs touch.

“pussywillows, cat-tails, soft winds and roses
rain pools in the woodland, water to my knees
shivering, quivering, the warm breath of spring
pussywillows, cat-tails, soft winds and roses”

(gordon lightfoot, “pussywillows, cat-tails” 1968)

smooth silvery-grey under our fingertips, we each took time to touch, to marvel at the beauty. and gordon lightfoot sang on in my mind.

as a writer, composer, lyricist, there are decisions one must make along the way. we place ourselves in a vulnerable spot, not for our own purpose or indulgence, but, instead, in the hope of resonating with someone who needs the words or music or lyrics we write, in the hope of reaching someone else walking in similar shoes, in the hope of assuring someone out there who needs to know they are not alone. and so, at the risk of thus vulnerably over-sharing, i offer this:

but some things are triggers. and, as the verses and guitar continued, this particular gordon lightfoot song is one of them. my #metoo was at the hands of a musician, a serial predator who walks freely even today. he played guitar and charmed his way into the never-to-forget-lives of many susceptible young women. a man who softly sang gordon lightfoot and james taylor, who wrote love songs, new lyrics for gorgeous SATB hymns, and taught guitar surely was to be trusted, right? wrong.

i can appreciate these beautiful pussywillows, another harbinger of spring and new life. but i stop a moment and give nod to my much earlier self. in a watershed, i recognize the parallel of this earliest time working in the church and my latest work. bookends.

“riding on the roadside the dust gets in your eyes”

it’s not the dust that brings tears to my eyes, it’s not the spring air laden with newness of pollen, the turning of season. it’s the raw bookended time in places i trusted as safe. i cannot help now but examine it all up close, process it, grieve the loss of innocence, the devaluing of women, abhor the loss of respectful truth and the reign of agenda. the bookends hold upright the time in-between, all the books of life, times and experiences and mistakes and successes, the laying down of any attempt to process, to make right, of any ramifications for the wrongdoer. the bookend of late was a stunning surprise. i am astonished at its destruction, now, no longer a teenager. i find it all shockingly galling.

“slanted rays and colored days, stark blue horizons”

the horizon is much like the horizon all those decades ago. it’s surprising to return to that feeling. i want to leave, to run, just like that other time, that other bookend. my physical life, however, is not at stake this time. it is me, my loss of community, my loss of position, stolen integrity. i cannot wrap my head around the slanted rays, the starkness.

“treasuring, remembering, the promise of spring
pussywillows, cat-tails, soft winds and roses”

treasuring, remembering. promises. but roses…the flower of love…it is hard to hear lyric of roses…my hope is to only hear gordon lightfoot in my mind’s eye and to forget the echoing bookends.

“shivering, quivering, the warm breath of spring”

to remember – spring is beginning to spring. the catkins of the willows are soft, cattails seed in the wind, warm circles us on the trail.

*****

WATERSHED ©️ 2004 kerri sherwood

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read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY


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standing and cheering with momma. [merely-a-thought monday]

i went to school for nineteen years. when i finished my master’s degree my sweet momma asked if i would – one day – work on a doctorate. i emphatically replied, “not a chance!”. i felt that i had reached my terminal degree, so to speak, and that all the rest – all that education, work experience, talent and intuition and tenacity and wisdom gained along the way – would serve me well.

i am 64 today. sixty-four. six decades plus four.

and i am a woman. woman. she/her/hers.

and this is the 21st century. the 2000’s.

yet, sitting on the couch the other day, watching new amsterdam – cast with actors in many female physicians’ and specialists’ roles – i stood up and cheered for the female character who firmly stated, “i didn’t go to school for twelve years [med school] to learn how to smile more.”

what – exactly – is the propensity for people to tell – specifically – women to “smile” or “smile more” or “just smile” or some similar iteration in answer to conflict, to agenda, to management riddled with prejudice? the question i ask – would you tell a man to “smile” or “smile more” or “just smile” or – truly – any iteration as such?

the continued thwarting, silencing, harassing of women is insidious. and forever. as in – forever.

“there is a pull, a fiercely ingrained pull, to mute a woman’s voice until it coos. to press it down until it is as small and sweet as a pastel after-dinner mint. to control it. to silence it.”

“and still, she speaks. she tries to be heard. but very—too often—her voice is ignored … or belittled, mocked, critiqued, or shouted down.”

“if a woman utilizes her voice in a powerful way, or shakes up systems that are firmly in place, she will be subject to an abysmal, hack, silencing-method known as punishment.” (fiona landers – we have always silenced women – damemagazine.com)

“learn how to smile more…” i put new amsterdam on pause and rolled my eyes.

smiling more and keeping silent…when is that appropriate action in one’s workplace? is it appropriate – palatable – with a minimal salary and no benefits? is it substantially more appropriate – indeed more palatable – with a substantial salary, full benefits and retirement? do leaps and bounds of higher financial reward translate to keeping-one’s-mouth-shut even in the face of maltreatment? is a silent smiler in the upwardly-mobile ranks helping those on the lower ladder rungs? where is the line (or is it a ladder rung?) between generative transparency and closed-lipped acquiescence? where is the respect?

my sweet momma – who died at almost 94, a woman before her time – was a smiler. i – like most people – love to smile. i can see her smile in mine, the thinning curve as she grins, the crinkling of her eyes and the crease just above her top lip. she was a promoter of joy and kindness and – as the basic tenets of all the work i do in the world – i would like to think i have brought those forward, from her.

i found a small pocket calendar she sent me. i had saved it in a drawer in my studio for fifteen years. there is a handwritten sticky note on the back in which she directs me to “read the motivations through these pages” and to “start with the cover”.

the cover quote reads, “you must be the change you wish to see in the world.” (mahatma gandhi)

smiling-on-demand – even being a “sweet pastel after-dinner mint” – does not get one anywhere. conversely, not smiling-on-demand, not being a “sweet pastel after-dinner mint” can get one destroyed. but, in fact, smiling-not-for-a-real-smile’s-sake and the act of being a “sweet pastel after-dinner mint” and staying quiet about any prejudicial wrongdoing or malfeasance is an abhorrent manipulation, a coercion, shutting down strong, smart, valuable women – employees – time after time. and for what purpose? is this not perpetuating the oppression? just what responsibility do we have to each other, to the next? are we the change or aren’t we?

i’m 64. i’m still standing and cheering.

so is my sweet momma.

and we’re both smiling, just not on demand.

*****

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


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the hubbabubba fairy. [two artists tuesday]

it looks like the hubbabubba fairy flew through, magic wand in hand, touching stumps and shredded trees everywhere. it is striking to see and not just a little disturbing. there is blue-fairy-dust-smattering all over the woods. trees have been felled, underbrush torn up, everything ground into rough-hewn mulch. one shade of blue and many shades of brown.

only it’s not magic dust and no hubbabubba-bubble-gum or jolly-rancher-blue-raspberry fairy has been there. instead, it’s an herbicide and part of treatment for the invasive species eradication project on our trail. it’s completely and understandably important, but it sure doesn’t look very nice. right now, it looks a tad bit decimated, but good strong organic matter remains and will grow and rejuvenate, despite the eradication of so many toxic invasives.

we need be cautious. often the invasive stands in the forest, all tall and righteous, and we are convinced that they are a beautiful partner in the woods community. or the invasive is short and squat, pudgy bushes that look lush and, again, we are convinced they are contributing members of this symbiotic woods. careful discernment is necessary, for we can be easily fooled, particularly by those invasives that look mighty or seem healthy. and these mistaken identities can – as we have learned – lead to the detriment of the very lovely and thriving woods.

that’s the thing about invasive species, i guess. you don’t recognize them as invasive. you trust – as you look around – that they are supposed to be there – for the good of the woods or the preserve or the wetland or the lake. here, in this woods, they appear to be a part of it – ever-present, growing and greening up in the spring. according to the national park service, “invasive species—nonnative organisms that cause harm to the environment, economy, or human health—have serious impacts on native ecosystems. they disrupt ecological processes, threaten ecosystem integrity, degrade cultural resources…”. they are not what they appear.

i suppose there are institutions like that as well. invasives choking out the real life, the real growth, the organic nature of the organization – all bent on preserving their own agendas, maintaining control, practicing a generalist survival strategy honed through the years. bobcats and coyotes are generalists and, i must say, i know a few.

the national wildlife federation states, “detecting new invaders quickly, and responding rapidly to eliminate them, is essential to limiting impacts and costs when prevention fails.” “many invasive species thrive because they outcompete native species for food.” i suppose it would be wise to be wary of being outcompeted.

“many invasive species destroy habitat” and “some invasive species do great harm to the economy,” national geographic warns and then adds, “invasive species are almost always spread by human activity.”

“you can treat and dispose of invasive non-native plants by: spraying with chemicals, pulling or digging out live, dead or dying plants, cutting back plants to prevent the seeds dispersing.” (gov.uk)

yes. these are some of the efforts we are seeing in our own treasured woods: the removal of the toxic longstandings – masked as steadfasts participating in the mission of the forest – for the true benefit of that forest and wildlife community.

“once invasive species become established and spread, it can be extraordinarily difficult and costly to control or eradicate them.” (national wildlife federation)

in that light and with great intention, in one dedication to such efforts, “the national wildlife federation leads the charge to prevent invasive carp from entering and decimating the great lakes.” the national park service explains, “invasive carp cause serious damage to the native fish populations in the lakes and rivers that they infest because they out-compete other fish.” http://www.invasivecarp.us asks fishermen who catch a carp to “immediately contact the appropriate agency personnel for the state you are in.” we are urged to be ever mindful, to be transparent about what we see, about that which is destructive.

yes. watch out for those carp and all the other invasives. the hubbabubba fairy has left the building.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY


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every sound wave. [merely-a-thought monday]

i touch a single key on the piano. depressing it, i reach for the next and then the next. i build a melody, i build the cello line for arvo, i build a blueprint upon which to put lyrics. i touch a single key on the piano. slowly depressing it, i make no sound. instead, it is silent – to our ears. yet i wonder if some tiny bit of frequency escapes and travels away, bouncing off particles in the air, absorbed into light. “the vibrations of the strings are transmitted to the soundboard through the bridges, and a sound resonates as a result of the soundboard vibrating the air.“ (yamaha)

“a sound wave is the pattern of disturbance caused by the movement of energy traveling through a medium (such as air, water or any other liquid or solid matter) as it propagates away from the source of the sound.”

it would seem apparent that we are all patterns of disturbance. every molecule, every atom within, constantly moving, disturbing all other matter.

in the way of the feathering of sound as it travels away, away, from the source, our impact upon another tends the same – energy as it gets further away and there is more surface area. a decrescendo of sorts, our notes turn pianissimo, our voices to whispers. though a quieter din, the nearly silent cacophony is out there, traveling in air. more than we realize. until it is not.

our notes and words and colors and textures dance around the others in our lives, sometimes landing, sometimes repelled by mysterious opposite magnetic forces. they are absorbed, turn into heat and may warm those upon whom they land.

the world will adjust, yes, to our patterns of disturbance. we are all pianos, concurrent notes, synchronous string vibrations, noise ever-traveling.

the universe glances down at us – from its ever-silent timelessness. space, sans air, doesn’t entertain sound. there are no pianos, no notes, no cellos, no voices that can be heard.

so, we must be who we are here – now – doing the best we can to avoid absolute discordance and strident disharmony, timbres of aggression, anger, division. instead, i would hope we would recognize the responsibility of every sound wave we make.

*****

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


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to mask or not to mask. [flawed wednesday]

four of us. there were four of us at costco with masks on. me and three costco associates.

yet, we personally know more people – right now – who have covid, who just got over covid, who were just diagnosed with covid, who are in the hospital with covid – than at any other time during the pandemic.

yes. it is a royal pain to wear a mask. yes. they are completely optional. yes. you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. but every time – which is daily – we hear about someone else “testing positive” it serves as the impetus to – again – put on our masks before heading into the grocery store, into costco, into the home repair store, into crate and barrel, into the ace.

maybe we are overly conservative. we wonder this aloud. as artists, we have taken many chances, we have risked much, including financial stability. these choices – as artists – have not rendered us the label “conservative”. our political views are not conservative. our leaning toward simpler living is not run-of-the-mill conservative. “granola” maybe, but not “conservative”.

but the whole mask thing has us pondering over and over and over. in truth, we are trying to recognize the interconnectivity of everyone – what we do affects you, what you do affects us. we are trying to – in community – be cautious, be responsible. and we are trying not to test positive.

weeks – maybe even a couple months – ago we railed against it all. for one day we literally went into every store maskless. it was liberating. we could breathe easily, we could smile at other people. we wandered, our faces exposed, reveling in what-used-to-be. we exchanged glances at each other, an “ahhh”, rebels out and about.

later we heard that an entire family we knew was covid-positive. they were very ill and it had already lasted at least a week. we sheepishly donned our masks the next time out.

with all the home tests, we know that “the numbers” are not actually significant these days. there are many, many more people who have covid (or have had covid) than the government is aware of. it’s not like john or jane doe picks up the phone and calls the cdc when their home test is positive. we scarcely know the reality anymore.

we missed the phil vassar concert – twice now – because of this. we still haven’t dined out in our own town in two and a half years. you can still count the number of times we have dined out – period – on two hands over the entire course of this pandemic. we measured our risk those times and the benefit outweighed them. they were opportunities to be with our children, our family or ones very dear to us. when phil was playing a very crowded people-sandwiched-with-people summerfest last saturday, we were playing phil vassar on our deck, sipping wine, singing along in the waning light. granola.

yes, it’s completely optional to wear masks. and yes, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to; you are free – well, unless, of course, that includes things that the “apolitical” (ahem!) supreme court is now overturning or wishing to overturn, in which case your freedoms are limited and anti-abortion, anti-gay marriage, anti-contraception, anti-equality, anti-environment-protection, pro-gun-carry, pro-christian-only-public-prayer, pro-gerrymandering rulings will rule over you, should their push-against be successful. kinda makes masks child-play.

it gives me pause for thought as i think about all the people who have been giant and loud anti-maskers. are these all the same people? (yes, that’s rhetorical.)

the other day in costco i was walking down an aisle. coming the other way was a young woman, a worker, also in a mask. our eyes met. our eyebrows raised up a little. tiny lines appeared at our temples. and we exchanged a little granola love. i swear i could see a rainbow appear out of nowhere, peace signs floating, unicorns singing lyrics, something about “liberating strife”.

i took off my mask after i exited. and i breathed in the air of the land of the free and the home of the brave, the sweet land of liberty. from someone’s car radio system i could hear aretha spelling out “r-e-s-p-e-c-t….just a little bit…”

my sister texted her dear friend was in the hospital, with covid, on oxygen.

i tucked my mask into my purse, to use the next time.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this FLAWED WEDNESDAY


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the other 89%. [not-so-flawed wednesday]

david said, “really, it’s probably the 5% rule. there are about 5% of people who are not good people.” i answered, “eh. i think it’s more like 10%.”

glancing to the side of the road leading out of the trail i watched a guy in the parking lot duck into his shiny pick-up truck. he pulled out a floor mat as i stared and dumped its accumulated dirt and wrappers and garbage on the ground. “make that 11%,” i grumbled.

though i no longer would do this – i have, in the past, pulled up next to someone or walked up to someone, depending on whether on a road or on a walk – to tell them – in an innocent and informative voice – that they “dropped something.” i usually add i’m not sure if they need it but it’s just “back a ways” if they do. sadly, this did not usually culminate in their retrieval of their garbage, but there was something about letting them know it did not go unnoticed that was helpful. probably more helpful would be if i just followed and picked up the garbage that others are dropping.

“earth is neat,” says the wrapper of the justin’s dark chocolate cashew butter cups. to jaunt through the justins.com website is to read the story of a guy with a passion for peanut butter take it all to the next level. his company is self-built and completely and utterly responsible to people, food and the planet we live on. it makes me want to eat more nut butters, make his 4-ingredient-peanut-butter-banana-oatmeal-cookie recipe, support his obviously-boulder-colorado-beginning efforts. bravo, justin.

the trail on saturday was warm. the first day in months. even the vests we wore were too much, so we peeled them off and relished hiking jacketless, even for a day. i suppose that we will take a couple pairs of gloves and a few garbage bags and go back one day without hiking in mind. it might do our hearts good to pick up the stuff that the 11% has left behind.

because earth IS neat. and it takes all of us to keep it that way.

*****

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