An inch from Paris

I have mixed feelings about technology. I say this, recognizing I have an Apple product in every room of our house, and without technology, you wouldn’t be reading this right now. The alternative is me dropping flyers from planes. My… Read More ›

Postcard from Metz

The kids have gone through the advent calendars and left the empties on the floor. Laurent is cooking a chapon for Christmas, which he translates as a castrated cock, good and greasy. Eight kids aged 4-11, seven of them girls,… Read More ›

Last Import

The screen has gone white, and snow is expected to return. The commuters are back, and make sounds like waves against the wall, below. It is just me and the heater, with the tick-tock of a clock, the Christmas tree,… Read More ›


I bought a collection by Rilke at Darvill’s bookstore on Orcas Island, hoping it would free me from a year without writing. The store is small, warm, and jam-packed with books. A chime goes off when the door opens, and… Read More ›


Two days in France, eight kids aged 4 – 11, seven of them girls: the 10 and 11 year-olds are allowed to drink Champagne. We eat lunch just before 4, then dinner at 11:15. They all drink coffee afterwards, about… Read More ›


Fog comes from a temperature imbalance between the earth and the atmosphere, I think. It also comes from a food/alcohol imbalance, and it’s thick here today. Any night that starts at the Christmas market with Gluhwein and the decision to… Read More ›