When the French arrive, it’s with armsful of things from France: breads wrapped in brown paper bags, coolers full of cheese, boxes of wine, even duvets for their beds. It feels like a hotel and we lose track of how… Read More ›
European travel
‘The Shapely Balloon,’ and other odd-fitting shapes
Our map of the UK still hangs on the Schrank in my mom’s dining area crooked and blocky, like some kid at the high school dance who’s just going to keep sitting there on the sides all night, unnoticed. I really… Read More ›
‘The best Defence Against the Dark Arts’
I asked Lily to write the word beautiful in her journal and then draw an X through it. I said be careful about using this word in your writing (she used it twice in the same paragraph), and we talked… Read More ›
Stepping out of the lines
Summer ends so fast here it’s like they’re taking down a theatre set and replacing it with autumn, overnight. Eberhard has a saying, «I’m a man, I fix things» — and he lets the words hang over me like mist,… Read More ›
The skin beneath my chin has the feel of waterfowl
Mom woke to hardened blood in her bedding about the size of a tea cup saucer and couldn’t find the source, asked if the cat menstruates but she can’t, we had those organs taken out, and it wasn’t the dog… Read More ›
Licking my lips, the end of summer
The cat’s come back to my lap to harvest what she can, and in the town they’re hanging leaves and lights, grape clusters in different colors for the wine fest, next month. The fruit flies are slowing down in the… Read More ›
Peeing on Switzerland
Ralf pokes the scat with the tip of his trekking pole and says in English it’s fresh, from earlier today. And the wind changes direction, it’s coming from Switzerland now, and I don’t know if that’s good or bad but… Read More ›
Lay vs. Lie
BELLEVUE, WASHINGTON 20 JANUARY 2009 Dawn and I sat in the car in the Macy’s parking garage discussing what we’d do if I lost my job, decided we’d move to Germany, liked the idea so much we agreed we’d go… Read More ›
In other words
My feet are like bloated sausages when I put them in the bucket and Eberhard fills it with a hose. I drank and read and slept some on the plane, found the bulky luggage claim area in Frankfurt, waiting for… Read More ›
Americans just think they can go anywhere
It’s part of what makes us great and OK, sometimes arrogant, self-important, disrespectful: the fact we think we can go anywhere in the world, just show up, and do what we want or buy what we want, sometimes just by… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 