Tag Archives: christmas

Snow-covered mineshaft grate

I took the 900 around the back side of Cougar Mountain, but it doesn’t get much direct light this time of year and the road was icy in early morning, with snow on the trees still—and when Ginger and I … Continue reading

Posted in prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 25 Comments

Whatever happens between now and December, keep it between us

This time of year 2012 I kind of snapped. Dawn asked what’s wrong and I started crying, said I needed to write. We went to Germany for Christmas and I had this transcendental sense reopening thing when I heard a … Continue reading

Posted in inspiration, musings | Tagged , , , , , , | 20 Comments

A conference of the senses, the cedars

They blew the cedar branches out of the storm drains and Charlotte said it reminded her of Christmas, the smell. We were on the road last December driving from Galway down the southwest of Ireland, stopping in Cork to meet my … Continue reading

Posted in musings, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 17 Comments

Salthill Serenade, Galway

Wet snow tangled in the hair of the grass outside of London, topping the cars like confetti. Going back to a Sunday a month ago in Galway, a neighborhood ten minutes outside of town called Salthill, that day we started … Continue reading

Posted in travel, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 25 Comments

That last Christmas in Cork

We debated what to do with the uneaten ham. It was impractical to stuff it in the car with all our things, tacky to leave it behind for the owners, wasteful to throw it out, and so I climbed the … Continue reading

Posted in travel, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 26 Comments

Through the gap in Shakespeare’s garden

Christmas in West Cork: Cork, a town on the southern coast of Ireland, “West Cork” the territory to the left of it loosely defined by small towns with names like Skibbereen, which we visit just so we can say we … Continue reading

Posted in travel, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 27 Comments

The 1 o’clock IPA

The day was so dark it hardly felt like the day. The Internet was down again, a desperate feeling over the house, something was off. He talked to the man about a job, talked to him through a text message, … Continue reading

Posted in writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments