Author Archives
Bill Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
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Lifetime value
Watched the Queen movie again with Charlotte and had a piece of my cheek removed by the doctor. Hoping it’s pre-cancerous (as opposed to cancerous) and will find out in a week. Not really worried about it but wondering should… Read More ›
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The irregularities
Mom said the irregularities got worse with age and so she carried a nail file everywhere. I think uneven nails was distracting for her. She’d remedy it right away with a quick file. I was surprised by how good it… Read More ›
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The end of the tour
Late afternoon naps in mid spring on a Sunday. Dawn, Charlotte and me each doing the same thing in different parts of the house. You go from the dim months of winter to this over-the-top sun and it’s almost too… Read More ›
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Grays Harbor blues
I went back to La Push, my favorite coastal backpacking trek. The transition from the beach sounds of the tide to the overland trail, how the sound of the tide vanishes and is replaced by the quiet of the forest…. Read More ›
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Going remote
All week with the deviled eggs. Dawn made too many for Easter brunch and now I eat about 11 a day (halves, not wholes). The morning moon thin as a sickle. I wonder if I’ll be able to see it… Read More ›
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Bouquet from the 70s
Maybe five, old enough to climb a tree. The field between the apartment buildings where I grew up, age 0 to 12. Three memories: (1) A photo of me in the field that’s not really a memory but more the… Read More ›
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Hot desking
Springtime as a young consultant though not really young, almost 48. An office of about 200 with capacity for 150 and me in the oldest 10%. Young consultants dressed to look older, older consultants headed the other way. Office chit… Read More ›
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Cart boy
No one called me cart boy to my face but they probably did behind my back. That was the crux of my job, pushing reports on a Rubbermaid cart, dropping them off for each CSR. The reports were DOS-matrix style,… Read More ›
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Voice entry no. 1, 4/18/25
‘Alright, first things first. Testing? Is this on. Ok. March — no, April! April what is it, April 18. Too many leftover Easter cookies, not that good. The dog smacking her lips, changing positions for another nap. Some bird makes… Read More ›
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Burning man
Though it was early morning and a strange time to do it I lit a fire in the firepit with last night’s coals and the logs that were charred and dampened by the early morning rain. It could be hard… Read More ›