reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: smack-dab in the middle of middle age


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

i cannot help it. memories swoosh around me constantly. and these days are no different. in fact, they deliver memories much like santa scooooching down the chimney – sans fanfare or warning. the memories arrive, sometimes with a kerplunk.

i suppose that it is simply a part of me to be wistful. and…the days are darker, the sun is shorter, it is colder and the holidays began to arrive in rapid succession.

i prepare myself for this – i know that time has flown on and that everything is different. yet…there is this piece of me that yearns to go back…to be overwhelmed with all that was going on when my children were little – the time of year that was fraught with choir and band rehearsals prepping, the time of year when it was hard to find alone-time to shop for surprises, the time of year when the children were counting down to school vacation, the time of year when end-of-year business records were lurking on lists-of-things-to-do, when you wrapped presents – that had been hidden in closets and the attic – around the the table in the wee hours, the time of year when you just really wanted to make cookies and fudge and sip hot cocoa around the fire with your children, reading christmas books, watching holiday movies. dreamy.

and then, there’s the further-back…the days in my growing-up neighborhood – along with our neighbors and friends outside caroling. luminaria, my dad making spiked eggnog and my mom fussing with cooking, the grandparents lingering on our old slipcovered couch, nieces and my nephew tiny and enchanted with it all.

it all seemed so innocent back then. and easy.

it’s not as easy now – as i watch families sort through all the gala preparations and the calendar of when who-visits-whom. there is much to do and, seemingly, not as much time to do it all. it makes me wish for a really big close-proximity-family with whom to share it all, all together, everyone from every side.

we prepare for our own christmas. i’ve been thinking and brainstorming and researching and googling and making lists for weeks now. we’ve been out browsing and shopping, we’ve had a moment or two indulging in a treat while out. we’ve encountered wonderful, joyous shopowners and salesclerks and a few not-so-wonderful nor joyous folks. we’ve tried hard to bring light to each person.

very happily, the boys will be coming and we are excited. but we will miss our girl and her husband. so many of us will have a facetime christmas and, though i am grateful for that technological ability, my heart – as always – yearns for in-person. so much bittersweet-ness. but…i am reminded by my own words earlier this week…“even if…enough”. it’s a good time for me to practice the enoughs.

i wonder – if it were possible – what it would be like to live back then and now simultaneously…kind of like walking from one room – the right now – into the next room – where my children were tiny ecstatic toddlers – into the next room – where i was a teenager surrounded by my island family – into the next room – where i was little and watched for rudolph’s red nose out my window.

i guess the gift of not being able to do that is the same as the hard part of not being able to do that – it is the wistfulness of it all. i guess wistful IS the gift. that thing that reminds you – just like in the movie about time to really, really live the day. “I just try to live every day as if I’ve deliberately come back to this one day, to enjoy it, as if it was the full final day of my extraordinary, ordinary life.”

*****

…and, by the way…just in case you misunderstood – in this climate rife with words like great and back – misused and twisted…as you are reading the words “go back in time”…i want to be perfectly clear…even in a post about these holidays…it’ s not THAT kind of going back. this is a post about love and respect for each other. it’s a post about time spent together and mutual generosity of spirit. it’s a post about decency. goodness. it’s a post about unity. together. it’s not that OTHER kind of going back. because we aren’t. going back.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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

you CAN feel it. there is hope in the air. there is light. there is possibility.

i – for one – am very, very, very tired of the darkness we have seen over the last decade. i am weary of the name-calling, the maga bastardizing of the honor of running for or being president, the hook-line-and-sinker of people who are in the trickle-down of mean-spiritedness, of incoherent narcissism, of a vector heading to autocracy.

i can feel the light and i am standing in it, proudly.

last saturday night i had an event that seemed in every way to be a heart event. for a half hour – in the wee hours of the night – i struggled with intense pain, wondering if there was a way that i could lessen it, wondering what to do. though i don’t necessarily feel 65, i know that i am 65 and so i was frightened.

we went to the ER to make sure this was not an emergency and, gratefully, the tests all came out fine. the mystery will be one for my personal physician and i to solve. but there is a learning – as always – here.

there is way too much darkness. in the middle of saturday night, while laying in bed thinking about life itself, i knew that the lesson presenting itself – the wisdom repeating itself – was none too small.

we have one opportunity to live this life. we can either live it ugly or live it with as much goodness as we can muster. we can greet each dawn with hope and light and generous possibility or we can perpetuate the dark of night, starless and with evil in our hearts.

i can feel it – this new hope surging through our nation. i can feel the energy, the light, a wide-open future full of wonder and blessed by simply breathing.

this trickle-down – of freedom and good intention – is contagious. the joy of the harris/walz campaign – the humanity of the harris/walz campaign – the spirit of the harris/walz campaign is washing over us.

and for that – and for sunday morning and each morning since – i am grateful.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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

it could easily put you in a frenzy.

technology – stuff – is like that. and we are surrounded by old technology and old stuff. now, don’t get me wrong. i’m not complaining. it’s just a fact. besides, i heard kamala loud and clear when she said, “don’t complain. dooo something about it!!”

and so, i do the workaround. it’s a bit like the electric shuffle, a mix-up of the hustle and the bump, maybe a little macarena-ish. it’s not a pretty mash, but it moves and shakes and gets it done.

a little over a week ago my laptop died. there is a grey folder with a question mark flashing when i turn it on. this is not good news for a macbook from 2008 – the year my girl graduated high school – and i immediately shut it down, in the hope that the next time i turn it on all will be well and it – personifying it, of course – will have forgotten its troubles and will simply get back to work.

in truth, i haven’t tried that yet.

i’m not anxious or excited about the outcome. well, to be fair, i am anxious, just not excited. i – listing heavily to optimistic – am hoping against hope that it will turn on and remember everything that would otherwise be lost. anxious. yes.

and so, in the meanwhile, i am typing on a mini ipad and trying to find creative ways to do what it is we do. so a little redundancy will have to work.

we have classic stuff.

our three vehicles (littlebabyscion, big red and my vw superbeetle) add up to 97 years old. my iphone is a 6, from the dark ages of 2016. this ipad is a mini2, only five years old but way past retiring. our tv is a non-smart late teen. it is as it is. and we totally make the best of it. not complaining, nope, nope.

i just know – in the middle of these workarounds – that there are those of you out there who get it. i wonder what it would be like to never have to figure things out, to never have to make it work, to never have to stand where you are and just be grateful and not wanting of more.

when i wash my hair today and tip the bottle, slapping the bottom of it over and over to get the last vestiges of shampoo out, i will think of my sweet momma and – apparently – kamala’s as well.

i’m thinking beaky and shyamala are visiting together on some other plane, maybe having sweet tea and, though they know we have plenty to complain about, watching us all dooo something – the best we can. and that, my dear friends, is classic.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING SMACK-DAB

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nooks and crannies. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

i don’t usually eat thomas’ english muffins these days – the “real” ones are not gluten-free and i have been pretty much sticking to a gluten-free diet. but lately, i’ve been trying a little gluten here, a little gluten there, just to see if i can push the envelope a little. plus, “real” english muffins are one of my favorite things and eating them seems a tad bit happily indulgent.

so the other day – when david was talking about his weathered face, the wrinkles, the aged-ness – it just seemed like the highest complimentary comeback to tell him they – his wrinkly wrinkles – are simply nooks and crannies…just like my favored english muffins.

i’m not sure he was pleased with the comparison, but i love his face even more than i love english muffins, so it was meant with a whole world of reassurance.

we are what we are – wrinkles and all – and we need to celebrate THAT extraordinariness.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

PLEASE NOTE: my 2008 macbook pro has crashed so i have zero access to the tools i usually use to produce SMACK-DAB. please bear with us as i attempt to continue this cartoon with workarounds while sorting out having to invest in new technology. xoxo

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

sometimes smack-dab is based on something we saw or heard. sometimes smack-dab is completely made-up. and sometimes smack-dab is autobiographical. this time – this cartoon – is most definitely that – from the first person.

i do lay awake – wide awake – at night thinking about this election. i spend hours thinking…thinking about the issues at hand, thinking about what is at risk, thinking about what the fallout could be, thinking about what others are thinking. particularly people i love and care about.

it worries me that there is bandwagon-energy-infused-reactionary-anger that is blocking the good and rational, critical-thinking hearts of voters ensconced in maga-world.

it alarms me that the screaming-fired-up propaganda thwarts people’s true consideration of reality, of how their votes would affect those they purport to care about, of how this country would change from by-the-people-for-the-people to under-the-thumb-of-autocracy – the very fascism my sweet poppo, 20’s dad, my brother-in-law, david’s nephew, dear friends fought and fight against.

it disappoints me to the core for my daughter’s future to think that the diminished rights of women my sweet momma endured – and which she gratefully watched as that ever-so-slowly changed – would once again fall under a patriarchal iron fist.

it devastates me that there are people – who i clearly know – for a maga vote is a vote against LGBTQIA rights – who will vote against the possibility of my son’s right to marry, his right to possibly adopt a child some day if he would wish to.

it confounds me that the same people who are on medicare and receive social security, or whose children go to public schools, or who subscribe to healthcare via the affordable care act or medicaid, would want to change these social programs in any way that negatively affects their benefits or those who follow them.

it confuses me that people would vote for the further pushing-under-water of the middle class and for exponential growth for the wealthy, when most people in this country are just getting by and making the chasm between classes even wider would elicit even more emotional division and even less potential, fewer possibilities.

it disgusts me that people would wish for the tiny children of our country to look up to this person they will vote for who has so little integrity, who is a puppet to the biggest of big money, who is down-right mean-spirited in every arena, who is a narcissistic criminal, who is apparently soul-less. i can’t fathom telling my three-year-old, my eight-year-old, my twelve-year-old, my teenager, “this – THIS – is the best man to be our president.” i can’t wrap my head around gifting my children, my grandchildren, my great-children or this democracy with THAT as a legacy.

so i lay awake at night. wide awake. i think about what people are thinking about. i wonder what they care about, who they care about. i worry if it’s just too late to hope that they are thinking or caring.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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

i can’t think of a better subtitle: if it’s not one weird thing, it’s another.

in these ‘new’ days of gettin’-a-teeny-weeny-bit-older we’re thinkin’ we need a good measure of flexibility. or at least a good sense of humor. “goin’ with the flow” is kind of an understatement.

we wake up and check in with each other over coffee…did you sleep/are your ears ringing/how’s your neck/back/hip/knee/shoulder/pinky toe/do you feel achy/why do we keep waking up at 4??

dogga patiently listens at the end of the bed. he knows our list o’ woes will stop soon and we’ll joyfully have breakfast – which means he gets the treat of bites of potato. he’s familiar with our waking-up process and knows we actually do wake up happy most of the time and – so far – we are pretty good at fording the ever-raging river of … ummm … aging.

nevertheless, it does seem to be an increasingly weird list.

*****

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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