reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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smarter than scunge. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

she said it and i immediately wrote it down. “american women are not stupid,” katty kay (bbc news correspondent) repeated elizabeth warren’s plainspoken words and then added that it should be the new slogan of the harris/walz presidential campaign. i wholeheartedly agree.

she’s absolutely right. american women AREN’T stupid. WOMEN aren’t stupid.

last wednesday the maga presidential candidate amplified a meme featuring two outstanding and accomplished women – hillary clinton and kamala harris. the comment about these two women – on this meme he deliberately shared – was the epitome of crass, vulgar beyond belief. i will not repeat it here. but something in me snapped.

even beyond the access-hollywood hot mic audio recording. even beyond his unending lewd, derogatory, demeaning comments about women. even beyond all the accusations of sexual abuse. even after a jury of his peers found him – this presidential candidate – guilty of sexual assault. even beyond every single other indictment, every single other conviction, every single other thing that disregards the rule of law. this scunge of a man is actually running for president – a position we wish our communities, our nation, our world, our children to hold in esteem – and it is unconscionable.

i have had zero respect for this maga candidate for some time now. his repugnant behavior has not resonated with me, amused me, entertained me or aligned with me one bit. his mean-spiritedness, his narcissistic self-devotion, his quest for autocratic power, his inability to play by the rules. this is a man who objectifies women, a man who sexualizes them, who aggressively degrades them, who sloughs them off, who takes advantage of them, who wants to control them, who sexually abuses them. and now i am sick to death of him. it is beyond the pale that he should even be able to run for the highest office of this land – he lacks any regard for anyone other than himself.

i am a woman. i am a daughter, a mother, a wife, a sister, a girlfriend. i am an aunt, a godmother, a female, a victim of sexual abuse. i am appalled.

women are not stupid. we will not vote for patriarchy, for the annihilation of the rights of women, for wearing skirts for men. it disgusts me to the point of nausea thinking of any woman – ANY woman – casting a precious vote for a man whose wishes are to put women back into their place and to control their bodies, to eliminate the rights of LGBTQ, to trash any racial, gender, religious, socioeconomic equalities we have achieved, to rule with an iron fist.

there is a woman around the block who has a sign that touts “women for [this candidate]“. i wonder every time i see it how it is possible that she supports this misogynistic bigot for president. what – on this good earth – is she thinking?

and so, though i am utterly distressed that any decent human being would support this maga candidacy, i want to specifically ask the women who are waiting to crown maga as leadership a few questions:

is there anyone in your family who is female, besides you? do you want them – as they live their life – to have freedom of opportunity, of decisions that will impact them, their bodies? do you care about their safety? do you care about their futures or do you wish to limit and imperil them?

is there anyone in your family who is LGBTQ? do you care about their rights, about their opportunity for the freedoms you have enjoyed, about their futures? do you care about their safety? do you care about them at all or do you wish to limit and imperil them?

is there anyone in your family who is not white? do you care about the equality that should be bestowed upon them, just like you? do you care about their safety, their futures or do you wish to limit and imperil them?

is there anyone in your family who is a child? do you care about their schooling, about their chance to learn the truth of history, about their free questions and research, about their safety, about their futures or do you wish to limit and imperil them?

is there anyone in your family who does not deserve proper healthcare – whether it is while they are younger or during their senior years? do you care about the social programs of social security and medicare continuing – with the freedom of choice – supporting them in their aging? do you care about their futures or do you wish to limit and imperil them?

is there anyone in your family who you would prevent from seeing the things that this maga candidate is saying, the things this maga candidate has said, the things this maga candidate has done, the crimes this maga candidate has committed, the extreme prejudices and contempt this maga candidate has for others? or are you hoping to emulate these behaviors, hoping that your dear ones emulate this, grow up to be this?

do you actually find this maga choice – unbelievably the person in all the country – this entire nation – that has been lifted up by the maga party as the best of the best – to be acceptable? how is that possible? what is inside your heart that makes this your ideal choice for leadership?

isn’t there reason to believe – a constitutional expectation – that the position of president of the united states of america should be held in the highest esteem, should answer to the highest of powers, should be a person of unparalleled virtue, should not limit or imperil the populace?

we american women are smart.

unacceptable is simply that – unacceptable.

scunge is not worthy. scunge is unacceptable.

*****

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DeeNCee Lullabaloo. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

it would be an understatement to say we were excited to see a frog in our pond again. we’d been waiting and then gave up. it’s a tiny pond – and it has attracted a frog for many years save a couple – but it has been an extraordinarily hot summer and we thought it possible that we would never see one in our backyard watering hole this year.

and yet, there it was. we cheered and, later, before we turned on the last night of the democratic national convention, toasted his existence.

we named him DeeNCee Lullabaloo – after both the DNC and the lull in which we have dedicated ourselves. DeeNCee, for short, though his whole name is ridiculously fun to say aloud.

way back when, it was helen who told us what it meant to have a frog – “fully rely on God,” she said, encouraging us to trust in hope and what was to come. since that first frog, life has been a real mash-up of stuff that has happened. but every frog that has turned up – each spring or summer or early fall – has been another sign of hope, another small miracle. for each one we have been grateful and a little bit astounded.

DeeNCee showed up on thursday, the same day that kamala harris accepted the democratic nomination to run for president.

the convention had been unbelievably exciting to that point…speakers and performers and politicians all stoking the flame of hope, the sprinkles of joy everywhere, light – a part of our future.

until a mere few weeks ago, it all looked rather bleak, a country destined to fall under the leadership of those who aren’t truly concerned about e pluribus unum, those who want complete and utter power and control, those who do not deserve such a honorable task as to lead this nation.

and then…then…hope, light and joy burst forward and suddenly there is a chance for our gay son to marry, our daughter to continue to be in charge of her own body, our great-nieces and great-nephews to enjoy racial equality, our younger neighbors to benefit from affordable, sustaining healthcare, our older neighbors to enjoy retirement and healthcare through social security, medicare and their choice of medicare supplemental plans. the list of possibilities is lengthy and the GOP – which is self-destructing – tries to misrepresent what is possible, tries to evade real questions about project 2025 and agenda 47 intentions, tries to bully their way in their desire to push the populace into a dark cave.

but we are alive and we are voiced and we have energy and stamina and longevity.

DeeNCee Lullabaloo showed up at the right time – to help celebrate the convention and its promise and to remind us to be in the lull, a place of peace and hope, a place of light and joy, a place where we might soak in the wisdom of a higher power – whatever we choose to call that deity.

in our tiny pond DeeNCee will sunbathe and eat bugs, swim and hop – thrive – in freedom.

and in our country, we humans will also thrive – all of us in freedom.

*****

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only forward. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

it’s time.

time to speak up. time to own what you have pondered, researched, debated, lost sleep over. time to honestly consider the choice and its true ramifications. time to think beyond yourself and reflect upon the legacy you are choosing. time to weigh in on the qualifications, the integrity, the character of the candidates. time to deliberate good and evil. time.

we have not remained silent. we have spoken and written and cartooned. we will continue to do so. because it is – indeed – time to take action.

our precious votes will not be squandered on a candidate whose sole focus is himself. they will not be spent on a man who lacks basic humanness, whose criminal and monstrous behaviors demonstrate his ambitions. they will not support a party that has eaten itself alive, that has become pistol-focused on autocracy, on mean-spiritedness, that would have the audacity to use name-calling and underhanded bitter tirades to represent itself. they will not be cast for a ticket that quashes the freedom of women and LGBTQ, that deliberately builds up the rich and ignores those in need, that slashes equality for race, gender, religion, orientation, that has intentional plans for undermining the life, liberty and pursuit of happiness of all in this country, all entering this country. these precious and important votes of ours will not buy into the repugnance of maga and its hideous scheme for the future. no.

instead, our votes – this opportunity, this responsibility, to participate in the future of the united states of america – will be cast with the honor and respect and diligence due them. they will be educated, considered, based on researched fact, leaning into joy and hope for future generations, looking toward light instead of bleak darkness.

there is no choice here. there is only one worthy candidate.

and though i would – with absolute certainty in my mind and heart – vote AGAINST maga, i, instead, will vote FOR the democratic ticket. i will vote FOR kamala harris and tim walz . i will vote for kindness and the community of this country. i will vote for democracy.

and i will take action each day to help the future of this country for us, for our daughter and son and their partners, for our friends and extended family regardless of their votes, for our town, our state, this nation and the world.

the choice is obvious. i am not going back to the stifling, suffocating, unconscionable ugliness of what we have seen – what we see – from maga.

i am going forward. only forward.

*****

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y to the third power. [kerri’s blog on flawed wednesday]

and it’s time again. two years have gone by since the last time. it was two years prior to that.

and now, another. another Y. the third one.

appropriately timed, i’d say.

it’s not common to come upon a branch that is a literal letter y. most of the time it’s a stretch. but this is pretty obvious – and it gets my attention.. again.

like those previous two times – mid 2020 and mid 2022 – there is just as much reason now for nature to be asking “why?”. truth of the matter is – there’s more.

sometimes, there just isn’t time for a long, belabored, ponderous “why?”

this is one of those times. there isn’t. the time for this country is running out. we are accelerating down the pike toward the november 5 election day and it feels like things are beginning to spiral out of control.

i am truly having a very hard time grokking the current political state of affairs of our country. every day now it feels like the fabric of our democracy is on the verge of shredding. in extremist-agenda-riddled moves, at best, the destruction will be a demolition of this republic, at worst, it will be a hellish bend to authoritarianism. and the words of the declaration of independence “we hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness” will cease to exist for all men and women. full stop. period. what is the united states if not united? what is this democracy if not a democracy?

baffling me beyond reasonable comprehension, it’s being facilitated by people whose evil intent seems obvious and it’s supported by those who are not asking “why?” it’s downright frightening to watch others rabidly embrace any and every single thing that will ultimately destroy this nation as we know it.

now, don’t get me wrong. i’d love to write about something lighthearted, something trivial, something that doesn’t feel like the weight of the world is hanging in balance.

but it is.

and – before november 5th, i hope you ask yourself “why?” for who? for what? why?

*****

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crown. no crown. the choice. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

crown (noun): a circular ornamental headdress worn by a monarch as a symbol of authority

and in this country, not one among us – no one – has any right to a crown. that’s what democracy is – we the people for the people – no monarch, no one above the law.

until now.

when suddenly, the supreme court has crowned the presidency – granted immunity to the position of president of the united states by declaring that presidents cannot be held criminally liable for laws broken as part of their official duties – incentivizing the unconscionable.

and suddenly, it’s no longer about democracy – where the rule of law applies to every person…every single person.

the last weeks have been mind-bogglingly distressing.

and where do we go from here?

we – the people – have some big decisions to make.

but the biggest one – the biggest decision – is simple:

america-the-democracy or maga-america.

it really boils down to: THIS AMERICA or THAT.

because the voting in of THAT would mean that THIS – this united states of america – would never look the same and THAT – the voting in of THAT – would be one of those profoundly devastating moments in history you look back upon where you can see that every single thing changed.

and we will – regrettably – be able to point to before and after. it will be unbelievably simple to plot the map that got us there.

for there is a very detailed plan for the demise of our democracy. it’s not secret. it is in plain view and every single person – who cares – has access to it. step by step it will strip away freedoms, respect for human rights and government by the people for the people.

we are in jeopardy.

THIS democracy is in jeopardy.

the crown is coming if we do not pay attention, if we do not raise awareness, if we do not talk about this, if we do not vote against it.

crowns do not belong here. except perched on the heads of little children blowing out birthday candles, young women celebrating quinceanera, drag queens or people at burger king.

****

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hummingbird reminders. [k.s. friday]

we have been tracking them. like really good private investigators – ok, not so brilliant but quietly watching – we watch the map that shows when they might get here. the map plots everywhere a hummingbird has been sighted and so we are anticipating seeing one anydaynow. we are waiting. with no promise at all.

“waiting for a train to go or a bus to come, or a plane to go or the mail to come, or the rain to go or the…” (dr. seuss – oh, the places you’ll go)

it seems that waiting is a thing. “i can’t wait till….” we find ourselves saying. impatient for time to slip by and for the anticipated moment to arrive.

yet, exquisite it is to sometimes simply linger, to stretch out minutes, to wade in the shallows of right now. waiting need not be passive. instead, it is filled with arrows-forward-arrows-back present-time. it is the only thing we can really feel, the only air we can breathe, the only. it is all that we have at the moment.

i’m sitting against the headboard, my pillows falling into the abyss between the iron bars. i can feel wrought iron against my back as i think about readjusting my stack of fluffy polyester and down alternative. i can hear the taptaptap of david typing next to me. i can hear the gentle easy breathing of dogdog at my feet, dozing and dreaming. if i stop typing i can hear birds outside, the pond gurgling, wind in the trees, every now and then chimes. if i close my eyes i can taste the last sip of coffee and see the maypole i thought about on monday’s mayday.

there are many things i cannot wait for. to see my daughter, hug her, hear her voice in the same room. to watch my son perform at pride festival in chicago. to take a roadtrip. to finish a long chapter that has had challenges.

but i am reminded – every day – that to rush would be to miss it all along the way. i am reminded to stroll or, at most, skip.

our trail has signs that designate a trot as the terminal gait. were i on horseback i would be tempted to canter – for the thrill of it. but i would go back and do it all again – walking and, maybe but not likely, trotting. i would stroke the mane of my horse and talk quietly about all we were seeing. i wouldn’t worry about the end nor would i gallop cause i couldn’t wait to get there.

i’d go slow. and try to relish the now, pushing back impatience so as to wait to feel the restlessness of waiting.

the hummingbirds remind me.

it’s all we have at the moment.

*****

waiting ©️ 2005 kerri sherwood

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walking sunsets. [two artists tuesday]

there are days that go by that we don’t notice. we hear the waves crashing or the wail of the foghorn, we feel the wind shift over the cool water surface, we listen to seagulls over our house or boats racing the shore. and, though those are all familiar to us, we don’t notice.

we walk the sunset along the lake, night dropping in around us. it’s quiet but we hear faint strains of music from the harbor and the festival on the channel. the lights to our left balance out the ever-diminishing clarity of view to our right. it is pretty exquisite. we are lucky, we repeat.

we live in an old house with an old garage and an old yard in an old neighborhood. we are steps from lake michigan and its glorious power, its ferocity, its smooth-as-glass silk, its wide spectrum of personality. and, sometimes, we don’t notice.

because sometimes, like you, we get caught up in the stuff of life, the challenges of life, the confusing relationships of life, the weariness.

those are the days we should walk the sunset.

for there is not much that reminds you of time passing like watching the giant eastern sky answer the western setting sun. there is not much that reminds you of your absolute tiny-ness in the overall scheme of things. just shy of eight billion people on this good earth and everyone shares this one sun, able to watch colors over lakes, deserts, meadows, cityscapes, neighborhoods, ballfields, cornfields, highways, bayous, mountains.

to sometimes notice, sometimes pay attention, gives us petite pause, like the air you feel staring at a richard diebenkorn ocean park painting, the all-over softened loll of arvo pärt’s music unwinding you, slower-than-slow-dancing on the patio, the hush of a hammock.

“we think we have about twenty good summers now,” the wander women talk about choosing their adventures. we are the same age, so it’s a little bit bracing.

but a good reminder. even from the very start. if we only have about 70 or 80 good summers in all, if we are fortunate, it would seem each one really, truly counts. and, if the height of summer is – in most parts – about three months long, then that’s about ninety days. that means somewhere between 6300 and 7200 good summer sunsets in all, possibly more, possibly less.

it makes me wonder how much i noticed in the first 5670 summer nights to date.

i’ve got some work to do.

i’ve got some walking sunsets to pay attention to.

*****

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the little alleluias. [merely-a-thought monday]

texting with our son, who was about to attend a music festival out west, he wrote that i would probably like the artist. he sent a link to the teaser of above and beyond’s song “gratitude“. i followed the link, loved it, jaunted over to the full-length, and loved that.

the everest youtube paused, we followed the soundtrack song to find that new favorite i wrote about in may, “you and me“.

it is not likely we would have just stumbled upon either. there had to be a tiny opening, a tiny window, a door to something new.

explorations don’t have to be gigantic. they can be mini adventures, pocket-sized, teeny-weeny, a moseying into something unknown, a reminder that there-is-just-so-much-out-there. exploring creates a yearning to explore, a synergy of sorts, to keep-on-ing.

mary oliver, in her book, “long life”, writes of “what she calls ‘the little alleluias’ in her days and in her doings.” (frederic and mary ann brussat) those tiny noticings. micro adventures. “nature, animals, the soul, place, and literature.” and sound. and music. and touch. and color. and laughter. and cooking. and creating.

in these days we don’t get far. our roadtrip juju has been poking at us for months now; our last roam was in december. that’s a long time ago for two people who love roadtrips. but work and an intentional budget and, yes, covid, have kept us closer to home. “soon”, we say to each other, “soon.” and then we sigh. the mountains are calling, the coast and points north, family down south, family out west.

in the meanwhile, we scout out other exploring. we paint rocks and hide them. we dance on the deck. we listen to music we don’t know. we pay attention to the girl, the boy, friends tell us about things we might like. we use two tortillas instead of one.

last night we had the best pancakes for dinner. gluten-free. and real-live maple syrup. my niece sent me the link to them. breakfast for dinner. it’s not a trip to the mountains, but it gets us to the foothills of adventure. something different.

exploring is like snickers minibites. sometimes five grams of delicious feeds us.

it’s the little alleluias.

*****

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right now and love. [d.r. thursday]

barney had an anniversary. seven years in our backyard. seven years of sun and rain and snow and ice. seven years of chipmunks and squirrels and robins and cardinals. seven years of wild geranium and day lilies and peonies and potted plants and candles. seven years of intense love. some things are unexpected. i still remember the beginning.

but barney’s influence on us has been significant. as he has aged, grayed, wrinkled, as his layers have peeled back and as his many-wooden-layered sedimentary life has undergone a metamorphosis, so have ours. we have gone the road with barney.

there are moments we glance over, in early morning light or the dim of dusk, and are taken aback at the beauty of this old piano in our yard. i can’t imagine it not being there, even as it gently lists a little left, into the ground.

same as those moments, in early morning light or the dim of dusk, that we glance over at each other. a little bowled over by the sheer presence of the other. the moment-ness, the what-else-is-there-ness, startling us into awareness. time keeps marching on and little counts but the chipmunks scurrying, the birds landing, the sun on our faces.

i got a single text from our girl. i read a post from our boy. they are in their own skins; they are making their way too, upright pianos in the backyard, living their best lives.

it’s a hot night. we sit on the cushions we bought last year – after long, measured research and budgeting – and light our column firepit.

the flame dances in the breeze. and it frames barney.

and reminds us – simply – that right now and love are what count.

*****

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opening day. again. [merely-a-thought monday]

we wake up early anyway. there’s no alarm clock on saturday morning. yet, before the sun is barely above the horizon we are awake. we both lay and listen quietly to the quiet. birds, chipmunks, the pond out back, maybe the waves on the lakeshore if it’s windy. for just a little while, before the lawnmowers start or cars drive by or people empty their recyclables into the new big blue waste containers, if we close our eyes we can picture being wherever we want to be.

my big brother has now been on a different plane of existence for thirty years. 30. as of yesterday. it is shocking that so much time has passed by. for the longest time i had a hard time understanding how the world could go on, when he could no longer feel it. and yet, it did. those of us left behind had broken hearts and missed the sound of his laughter, the details of his stories, his giant bowls of coffee ice cream. we are left wondering how he is present with us, what he can see, what, if anything, he feels. it was a friday.

“this life is not a dress rehearsal.”

the magic of friday night seems ubiquitous. for those in a traditional workweek, the weekend stretches out in front of you, friday night’s yawns delicious and lingered in. there are two glorious days to follow, days of errands or adventures or catch-up or sleep or just simply nothing. two of them. days to declutter your brain a little and sink into a little less routine.

and then, suddenly, sunday.

and, too fast, monday.

and we find ourselves wishing for friday.

yet, there is something about mondays that we should probably lean into. another day. here.

i stand here, in the kitchen in the world in all its complexities and all its flaws, and the dog gives me a kiss before he starts his breakfast and i bring david freshly-brewed coffee in a favorite mug. he smiles as i approach his pillow and the dog pounces on the bed. the sounds of early-early monday morning are like the sounds of saturday, like the sounds of friday. the certainty of monday is no less or more certain than the certainty of saturday or friday.

i imagine my brother took with him the sounds of morning, the sounds of his beloveds, the sweet taste of first java and ice cream in a late-night bowl. i don’t imagine he reached out to grab things as he floated; there were certainly no trappings as dear as the party he had on thursday-the-day-before just being near those he loved. his hologram remains with each of us, his humor and brilliant mind within our grasp as we speak of him. he made – and makes – a difference in this world for us.

we can choose to shut down the party on sunday. last call before midnight, enough time to sleep for the new week. or i guess we can recognize it can keep going. to be standing here, now, in this spot – with all its chaos and all its bounty – is party enough.

the day starts in quiet. the sun is barely over the horizon. the birds are singing, chipmunks chirp. i can smell the coffee brewing. i am here. i don’t know how the world goes on once i can’t feel it anymore. but for now, i can.

and it’s opening day. again.

*****

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

in honor of my big brother, listen to ANGEL YOU ARE

(from AS SURE AS THE SUN ©️ 2002 kerri sherwood)

sip coffee, listen to the birds, love on your loved ones, kiss your dog. repeat.