All week with the deviled eggs. Dawn made too many for Easter brunch and now I eat about 11 a day (halves, not wholes). The morning moon thin as a sickle. I wonder if I’ll be able to see it… Read More ›
journal writing
Voice entry no. 1, 4/18/25
‘Alright, first things first. Testing? Is this on. Ok. March — no, April! April what is it, April 18. Too many leftover Easter cookies, not that good. The dog smacking her lips, changing positions for another nap. Some bird makes… Read More ›
Shadow bandwidth
So alright, the mid-morning nap. On a workday. I’m not trying to sound boastful about napping while I’m working from home, or being paid to work but napping, which feels actually foreign and not altogether good. But then the meta… Read More ›
Common things
The gloves are still there, in the Honda’s hidden storage well beside the jumper cables. The gloves are leather and have a withered look, stiff and bent. They belonged to Dawn’s dad and I’ve kept them in the car since… Read More ›
To provide
After the big wind storm last fall and all the downed trees I thought it was time for me to learn how to buck a tree and use a chainsaw properly. I bought the safety gear—the protective chaps, the integrated… Read More ›
First date, can’t wait
First date with a girl, spring 1985. I’m 14, a freshman: she’s 16, a junior. An embarrassment to date an underclassmen but there you go. She’s in the band, but beautiful. Mom says you need a “good haircut” which means… Read More ›
Saturday morning entry
Closing my eyes to the after images of weed leaf patterns. The sharp edges of being fully in the now. Taken to mid-morning naps on the sofa in the den with the morning light and pets, a greenhouse warmth and… Read More ›
Your portion of life on a plate
When we got the warning about a violent storm coming we drove to the store for ice cream and organic cheese puffs and gas for the generator in case the power went out. I had gotten the blue light pre-cancer… Read More ›
My heart aches for these days
In the morning on the warmest day it’s still cool but you can feel the temperature start to change. I get to the park earlier than normal and the sky is the color of abalone shell, turquoise mixed with pink…. Read More ›
The algorithm remembers
It’s an ungodly hour, 4 am. Even the heat hasn’t come on yet so it’s just me and the coffee maker, the odd mechanical sounds of the house idling. But I love this time in the dark to sit with… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 