Category Archives: Memoir

In the Alps with Eberhard | Size Really Does Matter

Posted on August 17, 2018 by

We went back to the Austrian Alps and it was the same as it was last time, ending our hike on an old chair lift, coming down the valley with the sound of cowbells and accordion music drifting up, back … Continue reading →

Posted in travel, writing, humor, hiking, Memoir | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

It is the right light to be critical

Posted on August 7, 2018 by

On Tuesday the moon was still up when I walked to the lake in the morning. I was in the slot, now. Like being at the airport on one of those skywalks when you know you’re about to go time … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, Memoir, travel, writing | Tagged , , , , , | 12 Comments

Fred and Ted go camping

Posted on July 29, 2018 by

We went back up the Teanaway, the river valley on the east side of the Cascades that’s one of our favorite camping spots but prone to wildfires this time of year: an 18 mile road with only one way in … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, parenting, writing | Tagged , , , , | 18 Comments

The life of a dog

Posted on July 27, 2018 by

The sunset was now 8:51, sunrise 5:39. A thick layer of marine clouds on my morning walk to the lake, suggestion of fall by the gray color tones and ripples around the shore. Leaves starting to fall like a bunch … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, Memoir, parenting | Tagged , , , , , , | 19 Comments

An examination of spirit and self, told from beneath a sheet

Posted on July 16, 2018 by

When Dawn leaves town, Charlotte sleeps with me in our bed. Friday night, and she complained about the Brian Eno music, calling it spooky. So I carried the remains of that record with me up Cougar Mountain the next morning, … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, Memoir, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 32 Comments

Going back to Lehigh Street

Posted on July 12, 2018 by

The fins on the air conditioning units were cold and bent in places and dripped on the pavement. I noticed that, and the texture of mortar between the red brick on each of the apartment units, the red berries on … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , | 24 Comments

The day the rain stopped

Posted on July 10, 2018 by

The last rain fell on July 10. They were saying that was it, it would be a long time before it came back. When the rain ends in Seattle it’s like time stops—and when it returns it’s like an old … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, parenting | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 21 Comments