Join me this month for stories of our time here in a small German village where we’re visiting with my mom. This series of blogs is named after a post from 2015 (“No Christmas in Germany”) when we spent nine months… Read More ›
Memoir
12 Türkengasse
If you believe in souls, or souls without homes they call spirits, than you can keep yourself occupied in my mom’s house imagining them. It can also make you nuts—mom says it’s hardest living alone here this time of year…. Read More ›
No Christmas in Germany (2017)
Join me this month for stories of our time here in a small German village where we’re visiting with my mom. This series of blogs is named after a post from 2015, when we spent nine months in Europe but… Read More ›
“Learning to see in the dark”
Wednesday, “Mittwoch,” the day in Germany the Schwäbische say couples have sex (which gives new meaning to the phrase hump day). In bed by 8 o’clock and up by 5, early morning walk to the lake, it’s just me and… Read More ›
All the best reindeer have Chinese eyes
I stuck my thumbnail up my nose, stepped over the pee stain on the rug, went to the bathroom, wondered how Brad could live here for a whole month and put up with us, and how we live: that pressure… Read More ›
“Stay”
Probably the last trip up Cougar Mountain for the year. Rained from start to finish, mud in the car now, the smell of wet dog. The trail a mash-up of leaves all brown and yellow, the maples are the last… Read More ›
Don’t blame Belfast (2017)
As we wound down to the end of November we found ourselves in Belfast. The rain came on, the sideways rain, the same rain we knew from Seattle this time of year. And when I went to the shops to… Read More ›
“Dry”
I sat down with my boss in an alcove off to the side in an area intended for casual conversation. Everything was done at that point, I’d signed the paperwork and decided I was leaving. Both of us were relieved,… Read More ›
The Fall of 2015 | The Chauffeur’s Flat
We fell asleep with the laptop on watching Bob Ross the painter dragging colors down to form a reflection, shapes along the shorelines in reverse. And I went back to poking a coal of memory, a no-name place in the… Read More ›
Dead souls soliloquy (for Archie Loss)
The cat is all business, can be found in the morning by the garage door flap like a killer in the shadows waiting in the dark for anything trying to get inside. Dawn remarked, there’s mouse innards in the utility… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 