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rug. [two artists tuesday]

the rug

once upon a time, a geometric rug found its way onto our doorstep.  it was carried in and put in the dining room, where all rolled-up geometric rugs go.  it was The Boy’s rug and it would wait for The Boy to come get it.  Rug waited and waited.  until one day, The Boy came.  Rug got excited.  it knew it was going to go with The Boy and be his Rug.  but The Boy gathered all the other large boxes in the dining room, which had become a holding ground for deliveries, and Rug heard him start his car and drive away.  Rug panicked, thinking perhaps he had done something wrong, perhaps he wasn’t wanted.  and so he sat, sad and alone, the only delivery left in the dining room, all rolled up and despondent.

until one day when we came home from the island.  we walked in, carrying boxes and bins, unloading them in, of course, the dining room.  there, leaning up against the cabinet, was Rug.  sorrowful, lonely, dejected, left-behind Rug.  i looked at the label on Rug and saw that it belonged to The Boy and so i assured Rug that we would bring him home.

like all other weird things we seem to get ourselves involved in, we decided to take the train to deliver Rug to The Boy.  we could have driven directly to his door in the big city, but for reasons hard to comprehend, we picked up Rug and carried him onto the train.  all three of us disembarked from the train and Rug and i looked at the gps on my phone.  a beautiful day, it was only 2 miles to walk to the front door of The Boy’s place.  and so, off we went.  happily scampering down the sunny sidewalks of the city, a big triangle grin on Rug’s face as he anticipated his new home.  we took Rug into a grocery store and rode up and down on an escalator, adventuring together.  back on the street, people gawked at us walking with Rug, for it is clearly not often enough that people take rugs for a walk.  when at last we got there, The Boy carefully unpackaged Rug and laid him on the floor, next to the new couch and under the new coffee table.  we left Rug to uncurl and went to lunch.

in the pouring rain, walking the two miles back to the train, we talked about our next adventure.  and we hoped that Rug was adjusting well.

PLEASE read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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life. dust laughing. [merely-a-thought monday]

humorous thing called life.jpg

every time you think you have it all figured out, life has a way of poking fun at you, pulling the rug from underneath you, making you re-evaluate, maybe roll your eyes, maybe cry out and push back, maybe giggle in abandon.

the island players performed a short at TPAC from spoon river anthology (e. l. masters), a collection of epitaphs spoken as monologues by the deceased residents of the fictional town called spoon river.  it is gripping.  a not-so-subtle reminder of our brief time on this earth and the absolute into-thin-air-ness of our lives.  perspective-arranging, yes, as you listen to the tales of each person, ephemeral, transitory, all fleeting moments in a deep milky way of vast time.

one of the characters, a finely and properly dressed older woman, brags of renting a house in paris, entertaining the elite, dining at fine restaurants, taking the cure at baden-baden, a spa town in germany’s black forest.  she returns to her hometown of spoon river, only to realize that no one really cares about where she dined or what she ate or who she entertained or if she took the cure at baden-baden.  a sobering moment for her and, if you let it in, another one of those lessons.  the kind where you realize that what you do and what you have is – not – who you are.

instead, the dust of us will later snicker, laugh, out and out guffaw at how invested we all were in the things of life that didn’t really count, the things that will disappear into the outer atmosphere of the universe, never to be retrieved.  instead, we should chuckle now, realizing that indeed the best-laid plans are only that.  plans.  that doesn’t make them life.  life has its own ideas.  perhaps we should just remember that, cut ourselves a bit of slack and recognize how funny it really is that each of us, formed of zillions of random cells, somehow ended up here, right here, right now.  for this time.

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

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play together! [chicken marsala monday]

sometimesyouhavetobeapirate WITH EYES jpeg copy 2we have no problem playing.  take our sweet boy chicken marsala, for example.  you may remember this.  chicken was born when we were taking a roadtrip.  we had been driving for about 12 hours or so and were talking about what we would have named a child, had we had one together.  we laughingly agreed on “chicken”….”chicken marsala.”  don’t ask us why; neither of us has the answer.  maybe it was road delirium.  regardless, chicken has stayed with us since then.  we even carried a flat-chicken across the country a couple years ago, taking pictures of him with rest area personnel, at points of interest and with various family members.  we joke about chicken and me cantering in the fields and d uses his “chicken marsala voice”, making us go into fits of hilarity.

no matter the age, no matter the relationship – parent/child, brother/sister, husband/wife, boyfriend/boyfriend, girlfriend/girlfriend – playing adds moments of immeasurable treasure.

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CHICKEN MARSALA MONDAY – ON OUR SITE

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sometimes you have to be a pirate to know where your treasure is ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood


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everybody has their thing. [two artists tuesday]

so, we were trying to have a nice backyard.  the pond, the deck, the grasses, the hosta, the barnwood planting stand, the old piano….we were headed in the right direction.  but then there’s dogdog.  he has this THING.  every time we let him out and michele and john’s dogs are out, he races around in a circle, digging into the grass that was there, creating a velodrome (kenosha is known for its velodrome, only not this one.)  we tried various ways to address this, to try and dissuade him from running around in the circle, from ruining the grass that we had painstakingly planted.

finally, we decided it would be far less painful for us to just embrace it.  i went online and ordered an actual highway sign (the european roundabout sign, because he runs clockwise every time and the roundabouts in our country are counter to that.)  we planted a few grasses, put up temporary rope to help the grasses have a chance, pounded in our new sign and sat back to watch.

i mean, EVERYbody has their thing.  sometimes it’s just easier to not fight it.  it’s easier to just, well, laugh.

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dogdog roundabout ©️ 2018 david robinson & kerri sherwood


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flawed cartoon wednesday #2 (duuuuude!)

claudine's making cow eyes THIS jpegevery time the girl texts me and says “dude!” i laugh aloud.  i have to say i prefer “mom” or “mommommommommom” to “dude” but i’m just happy to hear ANYthing at ANY time from the girl and the boy that ANY name goes.  i’m guessing AllMomsEverywhere get that.

there is a sweet bistro in town called wine knot that we love to go to.  our favorite spot is at the bar at the end in the corner, where we can people-watch or chat with andy or jeremy, awesome bartenders who, for the longest time, knew to order – wait for it – brian’s amazing meatloaf split and two glasses of merlot – the instant we walked in.  there is something smalltownish and heartwarming to be said about this.  kind of like one of the things we all loved about watching the show cheers with a cast of ted danson & shelley long, kirstie alley and woody harrelson, kelsey grammar and george wendt and other regulars who became a part of our living rooms and lives.  given our new dietary restrictions (gluten free/dairy free -more whole30 compliant and feeling good!) we haven’t been to wine knot as much lately; we are cooking more with glasses of wine on our counter.  but sometimes it is nice to just go and sit and visit on a stool in the corner.

this past saturday we were at the cedarburg winter fest, an annual trip for the up-north-gang, an unparalleled and beloved cast of characters.  we walk around town, in and out of fun boutiques and shops, laughing at merch together.  we watch the parade of firetrucks and snow plows and scurry to the frozen river to cheer for the bed races.  it snowed a bit and was very “winter-festival-ish” (as dubbed by dan) this year, as opposed to last year when it was, oddly, almost 70 degrees and forced the bed races to be on the street.  we – without fail – end our day together at the crowded pub the silver creek brewing company.  dark beers, gluten free ciders, wine and kettle corn are our fare of choice.  it’s a total blast.  everyone talks at once; the topics are all over the place.

this flawed cartoon wednesday  in the melange makes me laugh.  the “duuuude”, the (oh-so-wisconsin) “cow-eyes” pun, the bovines at the bar.  every opportunity to laugh.  it’s a good thing.  happy wednesday.

CLAUDINE’S MAKING COW-EYES MERCHANDISE

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FLAWED CARTOON WEDNESDAY

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check out DAVID’S thoughts on CLAUDINE

duuuuude! claudine’s making cow-eyes at you! ©️ 2016 david robinson