reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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back to back. [two artists tuesday]

dogdogbabycatbacktoback copy

dogdog and babycat – back to back

in the middle of the night when i wake up – which happens every night thanks to the keeps-on-giving gift of menopause – i can hear them.

dogdog is gently breathing, sometimes punctuated by his paws running in a dream where he is doing laps around our pond, excitedly barking.  his even breaths, a dog in mostly-quiet slumber, reassure me, and my heart and i listen as he peacefully sleeps.

the peaceful-sleep bar is different for babycat.  he is not a stealth-sleeper.  well, actually nothing that babycat does is stealthy.   he’s not that kind of cat.  instead, his sleep on the end of the bed (he picks the side and you definitely know early-in-the-night if you have drawn the short straw) is noisy, fraught with snoring.  i’ve never heard a cat snore as loudly as he does; it is absolutely necessary to nudge him a little so that he steps it down a tad bit.  even with the snoring and the give-him-an-inch-he’ll-take-a-mile-bed-hogging, babycat’s presence sleeping on the bed is reassuring and i lay awake in wonder at how peaceful he seems, how content.

these two are buddies.  i was concerned at the beginning, having never had both a dog and cat simultaneously.  i needn’t have worried though.  they will lay napping on the raft back to back, with their people nearby.  perhaps at those times it is the two of them tuning in and listening – to our voices, our laughter, the rhythm of our day.  and perhaps it is those times that they are reassured.

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

dogdog babycat paws touchingwebsite box

 

 

 

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when sled dogs dream [flawed cartoon wednesday]

when sled dogs dream jpegBIG copy 2

life below zero has captured our attention.  sheesh.  we are not ‘those people’ who have to follow shows, but we find ourselves searching the channel-changer for the national geographic show or… wait-for-it-this-is-no-surprise … this is us.  (so i guess, in essence, we are ‘those people’.)  anyway, that’s not my point.

dream SQ PILLOW copywhen david drew this, i laughed aloud.  it is truly funny to think about what animals dream (like our dogdog who runs in his sleep and babycat who snores up a storm) and if their dreams distort reality, just as ours do.  in the morning, over steaming mugs of coffee, we often tell each other what we remember from our dreams.  talk about distorted reality!  i crack up thinking about what jessie holmes (the most avid -and very-sweet-to-his-dogs sled dog guy on the show) would do if he saw this cartoon.

the last little vestige of winter is in the air here (well, maybe.)  dream CLOCK copyas i write, there is snow in the forecast.  even though we had this amazing hike-gift the other day in sunny 65 degree temperatures, truthfully, i don’t really mind that winter hasn’t ended; it is a time of fallow and that brings great anticipation for spring and newness.

in the meanwhile, happy wintery-spring.

dream duvet cover copy

dream BEACH TOWEL copy

sled dogs dream MUG copy

dream LEGGINGS copy

DREAM & WHEN SLED DOGS DREAM – PRODUCTS on Society6.com/flawedcartoon

FLAWED CARTOON WEDNESDAY – ON OUR SITE

read DAVID’S thoughts on WHEN SLED DOGS DREAM

WHEN SLED DOGS DREAM & DREAM ©️ 2016 & 2018 david robinson & kerri sherwood

 

 

 


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mmm…the gift of insomnia

photo-3it was the middle of the night and i woke up. like wide-awake waking up. but not the i-want-to-get-up-and-vacuum or anything kind of awake. just the lie-here-and-ponder kind. of course, after a while, that pondering gets, well, a little old, and i was wishing i could go back to sleep. counting sheep. counting the minutes (and the hours) as i watch the clock. counting hot flashes.   counting my own breaths. counting the mosquitoes i can hear. counting – sheesh- anything trying to get back to sleep. somewhere in there, the night turned to early morning. and then i hear them. the loons. in the distance out on the lake somewhere up here in the north country there are loons gathered and i can hear their mournful cries, that gorgeous sound, the timbre of which is indescribable and yet, so recognizable. i listen. i am both reassured that all is well in the night and in the world right at this moment. i close my eyes and float with the loons. mmm…the gift of insomnia.

it was the middle of the night and i woke up. i had been sound asleep. we were all tired from a big family celebration. i rolled over and tried to get back to sleep, but the images from the day were hankering to be looked at again. so i laid in bed and thought about the whole day. the moments of hugs, the moments of hard work together making a party, the moments of laughter and great banter, the moments when looks of great love and history were exchanged between people who had been related forever and people who are newly related. i partied through the party once again, this time in my mind’s eye, this time meandering a little more slowly through the precious moments. mmm…the gift of insomnia.

photoit was the middle of the night and i woke up. i had been sound asleep, the sound-asleep kind of sleep that comes from drinking in the mountains all day and weeping at every turn. i was so overwhelmed with the beauty of the day and the drive through passes, thousands of feet above sea level (with, by the way, no guardrails.)   sheer majesty. i laid awake and reviewed the drive. each bend of the road. each steep ascent, each use-the-brake descent. i could feel the air on my face, i could hear the rustle of aspens, and i could smell the crisper-than-the-crispness-of-a-fresh-apple-off-the-tree air. i close my eyes and can see those mountains. mmm…the gift of insomnia.

it was the middle of the night and i woke up.photo-1  i was surprised because i had spent a good part of the day hiking and outside in the superbly fresh mountain air. my sprained-not-too-long-ago ankle was aching and i had those good aches that come with having really great exercise. i tried to go back to sleep, but i already missed the mountains, even though i was still there. they are glorious. they are alive. they make me alive. i closed my eyes and reached out my arms to hug them. mmm…the gift of insomnia.

the middle of the night can challenge me. like you, i can find myself reviewing and worrying and worrying and did-i-mention-worrying? photo-4but tonight i will wake up – again – in the middle of the night. and i wonder what gift i will find there.

in the night

www.kerrisherwood.com

itunes: kerri sherwood