reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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

three days out.

the election is merely three days away.

we are there – at the place where we all decide how this country will move forward. forward, not backward. forward to better, hopeful, joyful, united.

and so, in this moment, we could talk about so many pieces of this decision, so many aspects of the candidates, so many policies, so many ramifications.

we could talk about the maga candidate and his historically misogynistic, racist, bigoted views on life.

we could talk about his spewing vulgarity about taking advantage of women in the access hollywood video’s audiotape. (caution – vulgar language in videotape)

we could talk about his repulsive imitation of a disabled reporter.

we could talk about the many, many women who have accused him of sexual assault.

we could talk about his silver spoon, his elitist attitude, his entitlement.

we could talk about his lack of compassion, his clear lack of empathy, his lack of regard for the populace of this country – people – some of whom he refers to as “the enemy within”.

we could talk about his corruption.

we could then talk about his incompetence, his hateful vitriol, his obscene handling of the pandemic, his lack of respect for the vulnerable, for people different than himself.

we could talk about his felony convictions, the civil suit jury decision in which he was found guilty of sexual abuse. we could talk about his multiple standing indictments.

we could talk about his ad nauseum lies, his utter nonsense about disproved election fraud, his inciting of a brutal insurrection on this nation’s capitol.

we could talk about his lack of vested and intelligent interest in addressing human-based climate change that will affect this planet and the lives of all those who follow.

we could talk about his depravity, his lack of coherence, his inability to speak to his policies, his deliberate weave off-topic, an avoidance of spilling his actual intentions.

we could talk about the people he surrounds himself with – all with agendas of the most vile nature.

we could talk about how his maga supporters are not hearing – really hearing, really grokking – that he will destroy the affordable care act, decimate healthcare in this country.

we could talk about how project 2025 will slash medicare options – making narrow advantage plans the only option, eliminating supplemental plan choices of care, places of care, medications of care.

we could talk about how his cronies – who will have positions of power – will create hardship for the people of these United States. we could talk about how the present economy – under the present administration – of which other industrialized countries are envious – will be demolished under their selfish thumbs.

we could talk about how maga will run social security into the ground. we could talk about tariffs that will add mountains of cost to our daily bills, about taxes that will serve the super-rich and undermine everyone else. we could talk about how this might affect you and me, regular people.

we could talk about the elimination of women’s rights. we could talk about how this despicable, women-abuser will continue down his already-well-established path eliminating the right of women to choose, the right of women to seek reproductive health care. we could wonder how else this maga candidate wishes to drown the rights of women, what else he wishes to do to push women under, to eliminate their voice. “whether women like it or not.”

we could talk about his appalling intentions against the LGBTQ community, his limitations on who people may love, marry, with whom they may have children, basic rights of every single person regardless of sexual orientation or identification. we could talk about his spreading of lies about transgenders, his repugnant and distorted-from-reality rhetoric.

we could talk about how his extreme nationalist view runs scared of and runs rampant over any race other than his own whiteness. we could talk about his egregious plans for mass deportation of immigrants; we could talk about his zeal for remigration. we could wonder about this kind of loathsome animosity, this kind of sadism.

we could talk about his kowtowing to vicious autocrats. we could talk about his alliances with dictators around the world, his bowing to them, his ego hungry for their strokes. we could wonder about – or do we intuitively know – the tyrannical direction in which he wishes to take this precious country.

we could talk about his unhinged dedication to revenge, to retribution, to perpetuation of the ugliest ugly.

we could talk about his stoking of division, his glee at chaos, his embrace of violence, his utter evil.

but – really – we are merely three days away from this election. and who has frickin’ time for all that?!!!

don’t bother comparing policies now. don’t fool yourself into thinking that policies are the issues.

we are at a place like never in recent years – a choice-point – this very election – that threatens the very tenets of this country.

so now it’s time to cut to the chase.

because it clearly all boils down to one thing, one choice.

do we wish for this country to continue to grow forward as a democracy?

or do we wish for this country to sink into the depths of fascism?

it would seem a no-brainer.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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the thing of traveling. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

it is the thing of traveling, of exploring, of adventuring. it is the awakening. it is the learning.

no matter where we have traveled, we have been reminded of our intense smallness – our tiny in the vast. this time is no different.

there is no end to these reminders, these gentle prods of realness, of perspective.

and for that, we are intensely grateful.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING SMACK-DAB

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no time for ugly. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

it made third and fourth grade recess tough. i would be outside on the playground with my little group of girlfriends and – all of a sudden – there would be this incoming-bully, chasing after me as i ran my heart out to get away. he was faster and dedicated to his mission of twisting my wrist, so he would always catch me. he never really got in trouble, though. i wonder how that has carried him through his life. i suspect he is still a bully, only now uses words or actions that don’t involve twisted wrists (at least not in the literal sense.)

we just got off a call with a dear friend out of state. we played ukuleles and sang together over a zoom call. we chatted. and it was a joy. the thing we most agreed on was the fact that there is not enough time as it is in life to be anything but joyous. we don’t have time for ugly.

truly, none of us has time for ugly. the bullying and name-calling and undermining and hurtful harm stuff is the stuff of third grade – a period when the whole world is stretching out in front of you and you have no true concept of time’s limitations. it is closer to adulthood – and, certainly most definitely in adulthood, i would think – that we become aware of our mortality, the fragility of this life, the gift of being present on this good earth. and – with that all in mind – who’s got time for ugly?

david asked me if tommy remained my friend. i answered honestly. he did not. i no longer trusted him – his bullying was tormenting and mean-spirited. and there is no reason why i would want to be friends with anyone who would treat me that way. there is no reason why i would want anyone to treat people that way. anyone at all.

bullies have no place in a reasonable, compassionate society. they have no place in the public eye. they have no place in leadership.

we all don’t have enough time for them or their ugly.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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

i imagine that we are not alone – dreaming of what it must be like to be an olympic athlete, an olympic stand-out, an olympic champion. it is truly riveting to watch these incredible athletes do the most incredible things with their bodies. we marvel and have great respect for the dedication and commitment it all takes. not to mention talent.

neither of us is particularly athletically gifted, though it is clear to me that david has me out-prowessed. nevertheless, we exercise together and hike together and have biked together and – in our stand-out skill – nap together.

jessie holmes – on life below zero and referencing the iditarod – once said, “where your mind goes, your body follows.” we suspect oprah, with her feelings about visualization and manifestation, would agree. we do find that to be true. what you visualize is often what you become capable of, so it’s best to visualize the best. dream it, do it.

even so, there are certain limitations.

when i was eight i sat on a porch rail, with a string rein tied around a vertical post in my hand, in klamila, finland, visualizing myself as an equestrian. i was galloping over hill and dale, flying over jumps. the only thing that stopped me? i had no horse. my life-long dream…dashed with this single small detail.

when i was in junior high we were introduced to hurdles in gym class. i set up rope between trees in our yard and ran an obstacle course over and over and over, trying to perfect my time, perfect my hurdle. somehow – and it still baffles me – i never turned into a track and field star.

when i was thirty and we had just moved to wisconsin, i decided to pursue my life-goal of being an olympic ice skater. i could skate forward and backward and do crossovers, but i had never learned how to do salchows or axels or anything in the spinny bucket. with the other eight-year-olds in my class i attempted my first spin. my feet got it right but my inner ear has never caught up. i – a motion-sick-queen – was instantly dizzy. it had not occurred to me that spinning was a part of spinning. i retired my new figure skating tutu and turned to my piano.

some things are just not doable for some of us. and that’s what makes this world so wonderful. because there are people who are good at all sorts of things. really good. and together, we can put it all together and be the best we can be. together. the olympics are such a heartfelt and touching example of this ever-present, though somewhat under-recognized in the off-years, possibility.

we looked at each other, pondering which of the sports we would want to excel in – given the chance to pick one. we agreed it all looks incredibly hard.

“where your mind goes, your body follows,” he reminded us.

this olympic athlete stuff is exhausting! “phew!” we sighed.

and then we took a nap.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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

the fireworks were exploding everywhere. all over the neighborhood. up-close-and-personal in the yard riiiight behind us. down the street. around the corner. e-ver-y-where.

but we survived.

dogga is frightened by fireworks. and it is unfortunate that the fourth of july is his birthday, which makes it seem unusually wrong for him to be frightened.

we made absolutely no plans. we knew we needed to be there for him. we turned on the noisy window air conditioner in the dining room and tried to help him settle in. but they were ridiculously loud – particularly from neighbors who – each year – set them off right behind our backyard.

so we brought him into the kitchen with us, closed all the gates and pulled out the rummikub game.

and somehow – miraculously – that did the trick. he settled down – no longer in charge – and, even though we could still hear them pow-pow-powing all around us, he went to sleep. i can’t tell you how relieved we were that he was relaxed.

just like his first impulse is to protect us, so is ours to protect him.

we love our dogga. but i guess you already know that.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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turning into our parents. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

i inherited two pairs of big binoculars from my sweet poppo. at the time i probably never-woulda-thought that i’d be studying birds with them. but…you know what they say!

and here we are – with these powerful binoculars always at the ready, on the table in the sunroom, so that we can grab them and watch the crows in the nest or the finches at the grape jelly or the hummers at the feeder or search for the origin of the beautiful birdcall. we have a tiny pair as well, to take with us on trails, though we would be waaay better served with the good ones. it’s amazing how up-close-and-personal they get us.

and then there’s the merlin app. what an extraordinary tool that is! you record birdcalls and it instantly identifies the bird for you! utterly amazing, we are grateful to cornell lab of ornithology for this. we have used this app innumerable times, always relishing the quick id it gives us. because we don’t always commit it all to memory – ahem! – we rely on the (non-judgmental) app to tell us again and again. so cool!

i think about what my momma and poppo would have done with the merlin app on their iphone. they would have had a field day! they spent hours watching the birds back home, on long island, and in florida – where they looked out on a lake. i wish they could have played with it. they missed its development by just a smidge.

but every time we grab the binoculars or open the app to record a birdsong, clean the birdbath or fill the feeders, i know. they – momma, poppo, columbus – are aware and are nodding at each other, smiles on their faces, maybe even laughing a little or rolling their eyes at our earlier-in-life bird-watch-disregard.

“yep. they’re turning into us,” they grin.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING SMACK-DAB

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it’s a celebration! [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

big news!! it was a banner day!! someone let us loose in old navy during their $2 flip-flop sale and voila! i now am the proud owner of three (3!!!) new pairs of flip-flops!! all of them are black, but one has sparkly straps!! and the best part? there is more than 1/16″ between my foot and the ground. (i’m not sure there was even a sixteenth of an inch – but eh…who’s measuring?!)

so today i am excited to wear my new flip-flops to chicago PRIDEFEST!! because one can never place toooo much trust in a pair of new flip-flops, i will carry an extra pair along. i don’t want to have some sort of flip-flop disaster and be stuck walking around barefoot with a zillion people, all jostling – with no ill intent – to step on my bare feet.

i have a line-up of shoes in the basement. they are along the leading edge of the long storage area where the boxes of cds are stored. i need to go through these – again – and give most of them away. they are not the footwear of my 65-year-old-feet. they are the footwear of my 45-55 year old feet. or maybe even earlier, say, 36-45 year old feet. and – if you haven’t noticed this about your feet yet – or if you haven’t given in to this about your feet yet – or if you have refuuuused to acknowledge this about your feet – things change when it comes to feet. needs change. styles change. heel height changes. arches change. toe-room changes. toe-cleavage-pumps are not making the top of the priority list anymore. it’s been years, really. but giving in? letting go? that’s the tough part.

so i will likely hold onto the 1/16″ thick flip-flops i’ve been wearing. cause you never know when you might need them. i could do yardwork in them or walk around the ‘hood in them or bring them to the beach or or or….

the point is, i don’t want to waste my new $2 flip-flops. i need to save those for the best flip-flop-wearing times. like today.

so it’s a big day! i’ll be wearing a pair of new flip-flops! and today i will walk around in blissful ignorance of the pebbles beneath my feet. i will dance and hug people and my 1/2″ thick flip-flops will participate in a great celebration! i will be happy-happy for the little things and i will flip and flop my way into embracing my 65 year old feet.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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not just for breakfast anymore. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

yesterday we had lunch on the deck. in our pjs. and it was not saturday. so – voila! – there go the rules! besides…what are the rules AND who makes them???

we were not – unfortunately – in our matchy-matchy red buffalo plaid flannels. it’s too warm for those. but pjs nevertheless. though, i must say, we have seen plenty of people out-and-about in their pj bottoms – i mean, anywhere and everywhere. i have encouraged d to not be so modest about his pj-wearing. we are right in fashion, apparently.

regardless of our hesitation to be pj-forward in all places, there is nothing quite so delicious as breakfast-on-the-deck followed hours later by lunch-on-the-deck…all in our pajamas.

it was a week of weeks and that discounts all the rules. period.

pjs at breakfast and pjs at lunch.

it’s not like we were in the FRONT yard.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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the power of the cart. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

it happened again.

we stood there – in fresh thyme – tawking, tawking, tawking – for at least 45 minutes. we hugged, we showed photographs, we told stories. we laughed, we got serious, we spoke in earnest, we laughed more. delightful, it was a total social experience. a visit. in the grocery store.

and when we left, waving and still laughing, we promised to continue our catch-up. a bit later. in person. not in an aisle.

the thing is – these bits and snatches of community are important. and i, for one, am grateful to the cart.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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old house closet. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

aaaargh.

we have an old house.

so we have old house closets.

i have determined that life would be infinitely easier were i to have new house closets – the kind you see on hgtv – all walkinable and organized – with shelf units and hanging storage of different heights – light and airy – indeed, in many episodes, quite beautiful.

that’s not us.

we don’t have those.

and so, my clothes are smushed into my oldhousecloset. and that means that i really barely know what’s in there.

i can definitely tell you that 1977 has a moment in there. the 1980s have a nod or two. the 1990s have a real presence, as do the early 2000s. many of my coolest clothes – from what i can remember of them – are from these eras. and then, hanging off the end of the hangery part of the hanger are other hangers. these are the things from somewhere in this century. on the outside of the hangers hanging on the hanger are the 2020s. this is the stuff i wear most of the time.

but recently i had to dive into the restofit. and in there i found a really great olive green blazer. now, this cotton relatively unstructured blazer was from circa 1998 and had patch pockets. i am not a fan of patch pockets. but i am a fan of olive green and i needed a crop jacket for a jumpsuit (circa 2018) i was going to wear to a very special event. so – at risk of many other hangers coming with the hanger that the olive green blazer was on – i pulled out the jacket and tried it on. i still don’t like patch pockets, but it was the right style and the right color for the jumpsuit.

scissors and a thread-pulling safety pin made the old jacket a new jacket – cropped with a fringed hem. the same kind of thing i was pondering purchasing from poshmark for a prolonged period of time.

now i’m wondering what else is in there that might be repurposed. and i know i need to clean this closet out. that way i might have an idea of things i could wear, things i forgot about, things i’ve “outgrown”, things i might actually need.

the thing that gets me – the instant i start pulling hangers out – is the wash of memories that come with all of it. it is nearly impossible to give away a top i will never wear that my sweet poppo specifically picked out for me or his old blue-jean jacket. and that skirt! i remember buying it at target with my girl when she was little! it is ridiculously hard to throw out a worn-out big shirt i wore on more than one flatbed, playing and singing. and what about those chico traveler-fabric capris?? they never wrinkle no matter what you do to them – even stuffing them in an overstuffed closet!! it is silly-excruciating to put-in-a-pile a denim jacket i’ve had since the day i purchased my yamaha c5 for my studio. it is mildly depressing to pull out all the concert attire and set it aside. that top with sequins!! those long black blazers!! those jeans that were featured on the album covers!! it is heart-tugging to take out the patchwork shirt i wore with my it’s-the-real-thing-coca-cola-pants. i am lost – lost – in a vortex of memories. and i haven’t even started trying it all on.

i need a whole ‘nother closet. one for the stuff that actually fits.

this one makes me freeze in place.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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