Love Your World [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

It’s simple. Dogga wants to be where we are. He reads us like a book. He anticipates our every move and makes certain our passage is clear of marauders.

He does not split himself in confusion. He does not hold onto the past. He never worries about the future. He is all in, every moment. His happiness is sourced in our happiness. When we are on opposite sides of the house he places himself directly between us.

Last night, we watched him struggle to get up from the floor. We caught each other’s eyes, said nothing. I remembered the moment, years ago at farmer Don’s farm, that the little Aussie puppy ran to us and sat at our feet. He chose us. In that moment, we became his whole world and I do not exaggerate to write that he became ours, too. We chose him. Our whole world.

read Kerri’s blogpost about DOGGA

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Ask A Rhetorical Question [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

Our stove is almost as old as I am. It was made at a time before planned obsolescence, before things were built to break down. I imagine the people that designed and built our stove had a sense of pride in their work. They built it to last. They were from another time, closer-in-spirit to craftsmen and craftswomen than cogs in a fast moving economic wheel. I imagine the pride they felt in their work was directly connected to the loyalty they felt toward their customer and also their employer who paid them a decent wage, union benefits, a pension.

Loyalty is always a two-way street. Pride is like that, too. A job well done is well done for others.

In our times it seems almost everything operates according to the rules of planned obsolescence. Everything is quickly outdated. Replaceable. Including the customer. Including the employee.

Kerri’s question is as sadly current as it is rhetorical: What about loyalty?

read Kerri’s blogpost about LOYALTY

smack-dab © 2023 kerrianddavid.com

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Dance [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

We find that the balm to most of life’s greatest challenges is to dance. Anxious? Dance! Confused? Dance! Worried? Dance!

In truth, most of our worries, anxieties, and confusions don’t have a solution or a single answer. They are passing circumstance. Monkey mind run amok. Unsolvable dilemmas. In the face of uncertainty, quandary, or existential mess, it feels really good to dance. And that’s precisely the point. No sense to be made? Dance. Dance. Dance with the one you love! In the kitchen. In the front yard. In the airport.

And, isn’t that the name of the balm! The epicenter of existence! The purpose of life? To dance with the one you love. Preferably a slow dance. There’s no reason to rush when a solution feels so good.

read Kerri’s blogpost about DANCE WITH ME

smack-dab. © 2023 kerri sherwood

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Have No Ideas [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

I was satisfied with the second pair of frames I tried. For me, the whole process of frame selection took less than two minutes. Kerri? Not so much. She went through every frame in the store, twice. And then every frame in another store. And another. And another. She had a specific idea and none of the choices aligned with the frames-she-imagined or fulfilled the criteria on her list.

This is a crucial distinction and perhaps a key to happiness! I had no idea so everything was a viable option. She had a specific idea and an exacting criteria so the field of options was limited from the outset. The key to happiness: have no ideas. Ditch the criteria.

In the end, after weeks of searching and trying on frames, it came down to this: everyone in the shop voted. And, I mean everyone: the optometrist, the assistants, The manager, the other customers, and some random person who came into the shop to see what all the fuss was about. The vote was unanimous. The selection was made.

Her ideal remains unfulfilled but I am happy to report that after much searching the frames have landed.

read Kerri’s blogpost about FRAMES

smack-dab. © 2023 kerrianddavid.com

Think Like An Old Guy [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

Little-Baby-Scion was minted in 2006. Big Red rolled off the line in 1998. Both of our vehicles are old. Oh, yeah. The VW Bug in the garage is vintage 1971. I rarely think of it as a vehicle because it hasn’t moved in years.

We didn’t realize how old our cars are until last week when we rode around as passengers in newer cars complete with the latest technology. Had we rented these cars, we’d have required a how-does-it-work tutorial. To say the least, it was eye-opening.

Riding around in the back seat I couldn’t help but think of the washing machine salesman that agreed with us when we walked by the newer computer-driven machines to the lonely old school washers. “We just want it to wash our clothes,” Kerri explained.

The salesman whispered to us, “The new machines are crap. Designed to breakdown and too expensive to repair. You’ll be replacing it in a few years.” We bought the old warhorse. It came with a 15 year warranty.

I nestled into my seat and laughed at my old-guy-thoughts, “Nice, but necessary?” 20 tells me that heated seats are the greatest invention since sliced bread. If I had them, I’d probably agree.

read Kerri’s blogpost about NEW CARS

smack-dab. © 2023 kerrianddavid.com

Return To The Spot [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

When we brought Dogga home for the first time, Kerri worried that BabyCat would never accept life with a dog. She needn’t have been concerned. They were fast-friends and constant companions until the day BabyCat passed.

There are a few places around the house that were Dogga & BabyCat cuddle spots: after breakfast they’d snooze together in the kitchen. The living room rug was a favorite daily rendezvous. The raft (our bed) was their safe place when we were gone on errands.

And then there’s the door. We have a photo that breaks my heart. The day Kerri rushed BabyCat to the emergency vet, Dogga stood vigil at the door. Just as each morning after breakfast he wanders into the kitchen and waits, he often returns to that spot at the door. We think he’s waiting for us. BabyCat knows better.

read Kerri’s blogpost on this saturday morning smack-dab.

smack-dab. © 2023 kerrianddavid.com

Write That Down [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

It’s a fractal. A cartoon inside of a cartoon inside of our life. We delight in poking fun at ourselves each week in this cartoon.

If you look carefully at the image pinned to the wall, the characters are laughing. It’s an accurate depiction of our life. We laugh. We crack ourselves up on a daily basis with the ridiculous things we think and say, with the outrageous circumstances we find ourselves in. There is more fodder for humor than I care to admit.

Of course, the panel preceding the laughter is a drawing of how we take ourselves too seriously. Knitted brows. Bunched jammies. Chasing our own tail. The banana peels we step on over and over again with the same result. The real stuff of life, the reason we find ourselves laughing.

“That was stupid,” I say after doing something completely idiotic. Kerri looks the other way to hide her smirk. “It’s not funny!” I exclaim as we burst into gales of laughter.

“Write that down,” she says, “It’ll make a great Smack-Dab.”

read Kerri’s blogpost on this saturday morning smack-dab.

smack-dab. © 2023 kerrianddavid.com

Celebrate The Pivot [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

Rob and his family celebrate the solstice. Arnie and his family celebrate Hanukkah. My sister and her clan observe Christmas. The earth travels. There is a moment when the tide of retreating light tips and returns. A touch more light than dark. Minimum declination pivots and slow walks, minute by precious minute, toward maximum. For eons, humans have celebrated, personified, and symbolized the moment of light’s return.

The best story. The fewest words.

[in preparing for a cantata, she wrinkled her brow and said, ‘I need another piece!” She noodled for a few minutes on the out-of-tune church piano, pulled a few phrases from the imagination-sphere, and then sang this song. It sprang into earth fully formed. Thank goodness I had my old iPhone at the ready to capture it. We didn’t record the performance. I tell her, again and again, that she needs a proper recording of this beautiful song. She says, “Someday. And maybe with a cello line…” In our own way, we await the return of the light]

read Kerri’s blogpost on this saturday morning smack-dab.

smack-dab. © 2022 kerrianddavid.com

Unlock Her Mind [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

This cartoon strip would be funny if it wasn’t so true. I talk her into a stupor on a weekly basis. I’m an introvert so have rarely thought of myself as “too much,” but coming out of a monologue to find her dazed-into-submission has opened my eyes. Apparently, when on a roll, I can be like cold rain to the Tin Man.

The key to bringing her back from mind-lock-up is to first guide her to a comfy chair and then I play a terrible chord on her piano. I’m also gifted at producing grating chords. The chair is necessary because the jarring sound could possibly make her momentarily lose consciousness.

Once she’s sufficiently snapped-out-of-it, I’ve learned NOT to ask if she heard a word I said. Because she usually comes back into her body screaming the question, “WHAT’S THAT TERRIBLE SOUND?” I want her to believe “the terrible sound” is the awful chord and not my overly-generous monologue. So my pat response is, “What sound?”

When guilty of a mind-numbing monologue, the best path forward is to pretend that it never happened. Answer her question with a question. Play dumb and don’t say another word.

[Kerri’s response after I read her this post: “You make up so much sh*t!”. True. Too true.]

read Kerri’s blogpost on this saturday morning smack-dab.

smack-dab. © 2022 kerrianddavid.com

Laugh Your Way Into Slumber [on saturday morning smack-dab]

Once again, instead of peacefully sleeping, the mother-lode-of-comedy rolled through my brainpan. If I could only remember, after the lights go out, to order a drink, sit back, and play audience to the nonsense that takes the stage-in-my-mind, I’d laugh my way into slumber. Seriously, what I think is funny.

I’ve read that a mind needs to be occupied with something. It doesn’t matter what the “something” is as long as it’s sufficiently occupied. Without some parameters, that monkey-mind will latch onto anything passing through and then whip it into a full-blown stand-up routine. I suspect that the person who first said, “Don’t take yourself too seriously,” arrived at their insight after several sleepless nights.

I’m putting a post-it note by the bed. It reads, “The joke is on you.” No, really. It’s on me.

read Kerri’s blogpost about SLEEPLESS NIGHTS

smack-dab. © 2022 kerrianddavid.com