Monthly Archives: June 2016

That last trip to Teanaway

The dog Ginger, car camping for two nights, trying to break the food addiction she picked up in Germany with the 24/7 on-demand treating and feeding, so hungry she’s licking a patch of dirt in the gravel road, licking what … Continue reading

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Night falls on Teanaway

Ginger licks the sleep out of my eye, licks the insides of the rain fly for condensation, doesn’t understand tent etiquette or the idea of personal space, steals my sleeping bag each time I get up, looks like Kermit the … Continue reading

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The stain that won’t abate becomes a feature

The never-ending stain on the rug at the threshold between the kitchen and the dining room has the tenacity of a birth mark, it’s as hard to remove, has become my daily penance, a Greek who’s upset the gods now on … Continue reading

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Reed College walk, Portland

Spooling around southeast Portland with my childhood friend Loren, the guys with beards pouring growlers and pints at the neighborhood bottle shop flipping records, preparing dishes with fresh oysters, grated horseradish, a bed of sea salt. Past the antique shops where … Continue reading

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Chameleon, don’t paint yourself the color of perfection

It was very late August that summer we stopped in Portland on the way to the Redwoods and Loren made me some CD with early Pink Floyd I hadn’t heard, and I waited to play it until we left a … Continue reading

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Coming back, Perimeter Road (SeaTac)

All the houses in the new developments are the color of graham crackers with about as much variety as you’d find in the grocery store, the only difference is in the finishes. The CD player on the Honda Pilot keeps … Continue reading

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First person singular

I forgot one of the things I like most about camping is getting dirt under your nails, that way your hands look like you’ve really done something when you haven’t, it makes your hands look honest, like they’ve got character. … Continue reading

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