Redeem It [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

The closet in Kerri’s studio is just like my grandma’s purse. Anything and everything can be found there. It is a clown car of surprises. Need a snack? A kitchen sink? A wrench? A pile of napkins? An idea? Simply reach in the magic closet and what you seek will be found.

“What are you looking for?” I asked.

“The stuff I had hanging on the previous refrigerator.” She smiled, reading my mind, “Did you really keep the stuff that was hanging on the old fridge? Oh, yes I did!”

“Of course you did.” I confess, I was surprised. She reached into the magic closet and in a nanosecond pulled a shoebox from the void.

Opening the box, she rooted through the contents. “I can’t find it.” She frowned.

“What?”

“The Huggy-Huggy sticker. It used to be on the fridge!” Now the search was getting serious. When she gets that tone, I know she will not rest until she’s unearthed what she’s looking for.

“What’s a Huggy-Huggy sticker?” Her look tells me that my question is inane. I knew better than to ask “Why are you looking for a Huggy-Huggy sticker?” Her reasons are her own and the question might have inspired ire.

She rattles around inside the box. “Oh,” she whispers. “This might work,” she says, handing me the small piece of paper. “I think my mom sent this.” On the backside there are two coupons – one for a fuel injection cleaning. The other for auto-air-conditioner-inspection. On the frontside is a coupon for free hugs. Redeemable from any participating human being.

“This week is Valentines Day,” she says by way of explaining her reach into the void to find a Huggy-Huggy sticker that once stuck to the fridge.

“Oh,” I say, thinking of Albert, the last time I saw him, in Los Angeles, standing outside a conference room with a cardboard sign that said Free Hugs. He was a good sport, a good friend, and was doing me a favor. I was about to co-lead a training in the room and wanted to stir people as they came in. To my surprise, although intimidating, Albert received several Free Hugs from several participating human beings. It opened people’s hearts. We had a good session with so many open minds following the example of their hearts.

“It’s from the 90’s,” she said, bringing me back to now. “A simpler time.”

“Yes,” said. “Not so long ago.” I re-read the coupon. My favorite phrase: it expires the day after eternity. Open hearts opening minds. No real expiration date.

“This week is Valentines Day,” she repeated. “Don’t you think it will be a good thing to write about?”

Yes. Yes, I do.

read Kerri’s blogpost about FREE HUGS

when we were babies…

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buymeacoffee is a hug; not quite free but the impact is just as powerful

Expect The Burst [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

It’s alright. I know she will inevitably burst and I’ll be covered head-to-toe in her thoughts and opinions.

She’s the same way with gifts. She can’t buy presents ahead of time because she gets too excited to give them. Overwhelmed with gift-giving-anticipation, she bursts.

She’s the same way with ideas. There’s too little space in her heart and mind to contain so many burgeoning ideas. She bursts several times a week. It’s why she’s a pile-organizer. Her good ideas stack up because they have no where else to go.

What’s not to love?

read Kerri’s blogpost about BURSTING

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Don’t Wait! [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

I’ve shared Master Marsh’s insight before: “Customer service…” he said, “…is a firewall against serving the customer.”

This smack-dab is hot off the reality press; it just happened. When she hung up the phone, she immediately reached for the computer. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“You’ll see.” she smirked.

It tickles me that Kerri so readily translates and transforms her real-world experiences into our cartoon land personas. If nothing else, if no one on earth ever reads our weekly comic strip, of this I am certain: smack-dab is good for our mental health.

“As the customer, isn’t the business supposed to be valuing our time above their time?” I asked, knowing I was about to get that special stink-eye saved for my too-idealistic-no-duh-commentary. She didn’t disappoint!

“Where’s the complaint department?” I asked in mock rage.

She smiled, “Your wait time will be three hours and fifteen minutes.”

read Kerri’s blogpost about WAIT TIMES

Bonus cartoon from the Flawed Archive:

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buymeacoffee is a tip jar dedicated to keeping cartoon characters real.

Do A Take [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

It’s true. Every single day.

Imagine my good fortune.

read Kerri’s blogpost about TAKES

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buymeacoffee is a thing you do if you so desire and a thing we appreciate when you do.

Talk Turkey [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

(Bing) “You just got a text” I said. We’d been in the basement all day, cleaning, sorting, making piles of what would go, what to donate, what to keep. There’s nothing like an extended polar freeze to inspire a deep purge of the collected-and-accumulated- stuff-of-life.

She read his text aloud, “Umm…are you guys having turkey tonight?” Our neighbor, John, is a master of understatement, one of the funniest people we know. Bob Newhart dry.

“What? What’s he talking about?” I asked.

(Bing) “He sent a picture!” She laughed, “Oh, my god! We have to go upstairs,” she said, bounding out of the basement.

“What? Why?” She was already gone. “I’ll be there in a minute,” I said to myself. I heard her laugh again and then the sound of the camera snapping photos. Fear-Of-Missing-Out set in. I dropped my broom and galloped up the stairs.

“Come see,” she smiled. “You’re not going to believe it.”

Two of the neighborhood turkey trio were sitting atop the Scion. The third was standing in the driveway staring directly into the studio window. A set up. A blatant appeal for sanctuary. I expected the driveway turkey to extend a wing in our direction. Instead, it raised one leg, tucking it into the warmth of its body. One of the turkeys atop the car pooped. Choreography. An appeal combined with a not-so-veiled threat.

“They must be freezing,” she said.

“No,” I said. “Not a chance. They are not coming into the house.” She snapped a few more photos.

“It’s really cold out there.” she muttered. The one-legged turkey shifted to the other foot. “It’s too cold to stand on both feet,” she said, looking at me with those eyes.

“No way. Not a chance. They’re turkeys. They are made to withstand the cold.” The second turkey atop the car pooped.

Someone is going to have to clean that off the car,” she said, subtly allying with the turkeys.

I slowly raised my leg, tucking it in, standing on one foot. “It’s cold in here,” I said. Two can play that game.

read Kerri’s blogpost about TURKEYS ON THE ROOF

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buymeacoffee is a warm car-roof on a polar cold day, a wind block for the feathered artists standing at your studio window holding out a wing of appeal.

Uncover The Story [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

Cleaning out, for Kerri, has been like an archeological-story-dig of her life. I am a relative newcomer to the house and came with a truckload of paintings and not much else, so we are mostly excavating her life before me. Sometimes there is a gasp. Sometimes hysterical laughter. Sometimes I know she has found something important because of the profound silence. Sometimes there are tears.

Always there are stories. Treasured stories. Memories stirred by the simplest of finds, a shirt, a cassette tape, a teething ring.

I am the lucky recipient of her story-archeology and delight every time I hear her say, “Come look at this.”

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE TEETHING RING

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buymeacoffee is a story opportunity just waiting for you to say, “once upon a time…”

Forget It! [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

Words have become like socks in a dryer. With no reasonable explanation they simply disappear into space. Two socks go in. One sock comes out.

We’ve turned our word loss into a game. “ARGH! I CAN’T THINK OF THE WORD!” she says. “IT BEGINS WITH A THE LETTER C.” And so we commence a hearty round of word-hide-and-seek. And, inevitably, invariably, the lost word does not begin with C but is hiding behind any other of the 25 available letters in the alphabet. We know the game is over when the word jumps out of hiding and we declare, “YES! THAT’S IT!” followed by, “Wait. That doesn’t begin with C…”

The good news? I can’t remember it. But I know it’s here somewhere and begins with the letter “G”.

Read Kerri’s blog about LOST WORDS

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buymeacoffee is the secret potion capable of keeping our vocabulary intact.

Carry The Impression [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Leigh is an authority on rock art, the pictographs and petroglyphs found in caves and on rock walls around the world. People, for whatever reason, leaving a mark. Leaving their mark. Ritual? Aesthetic? I relished conversations with him as I peppered him with questions, speculating about their reasons.

Brad once said – that when he passes someday – he wants a plaque on a bench so that people will know that he was here. Future bench sitters will read the plaque and wonder who he was and why his name is on the bench.

Recently 20 brought to our house several drawings, conte crayon on newsprint. They are figure studies Duke, his father, did years ago when working with a model. They are gorgeous and free, the drawings of a master. Most are signed. I sign my paintings, too. I want people to know that they are mine, that I created them. Looking at the drawings, now that Duke is gone, I was taken by the power of the marks on the page, his signature, reaching across time to tell me, “This was my work. I was there.”

When BabyCat passed the vet made an impression of his paw for us. A keepsake. A reminder. I doubt BabyCat cared at all but we did. It helps us stay connected. It prompts us to tell stories.

Dogga’s beard is as grey as mine. He sometimes groans when he stands. He snores at night and we smile, knowingly. A few weeks ago, for a day or two, he was in pain, limping for unknown reasons. Although I knew it was not serious, an achy joint or pulled muscle, I was terrified at the depth and scope of what I was feeling. Love is like that. He stepped through the snow and left a print. I stared at it, taken by it, like Duke’s signature or a petroglyph scratched into stone. I watched him prance his circle-of-patrol and was utterly grateful for my terror, for the depth and scope of what I was feeling.

Love is like that. A bottomless impression he has left in me that I will carry to the end of my days.

read Kerri’s blogpost about DOGGA PRINT

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Go Wireless [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

As someone who’s never had to navigate the horrors of an underwire bra, I find myself distinctly unqualified to make a comment. And, as someone male, who’s never had to navigate the horrors of an underwire bra, I find silence-on-the-subject is by far the wisest choice.

I can, however, completely understand the resolution to live each day with less pain. The less pain and discomfort the better! I’ll join Kerri in that resolution! Literally or metaphorically, go wireless or go home!

Happy New Year.

read Kerri’s blogpost on WIRELESS

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buymeacoffee is a world without underwire. metaphorically.

Feel The Light [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

We sit squarely in the center of a community of generosity. At night, when we turn out all the lights except those wrapped around our many holiday trees, we close our eyes and breathe it in. We feel it. The quiet grace. The kindness. The support. The friendship.

Earlier this year, traveling through our metaphoric miles of very rough road. Kerri said, “We should lean into the light more.” That’s why we sit in the twinkling light of the trees, eyes closed. We feel the light.

This we know: we are rich beyond measure.

read Kerri’s blog post about FEELING IT

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buymeacoffee is twinkling light wrapped around a holiday tree…