Tag Archives: Memoir

Entering Elma | field notes from the Pacific Coast

Posted on May 28, 2017 by

May 28, SAMMAMISH By the time I got to Kalaloch they’d stopped serving breakfast and were turning things over for lunch, not in a rush to seat anyone. We were backing up in the lobby, I was second, a party … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 18 Comments

‘One more time around’

Posted on May 23, 2017 by

Now there’s a new sound in the back yard, the sound from the cottonwood leaves when the wind comes in from the west, and all those tiny hands clap, and remind me of the tide coming in or going out, … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, music, musings | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

‘Like frogs or rabbits’ | on living in the present, and wandering

Posted on May 16, 2017 by

May 15, 2017 Faint rain, imagined snow. Mid May and it’s still stew weather, heavy stouts. I have to run the heat in the morning driving in to work but refuse to wear a jacket and then turn off the … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 30 Comments

Sugar for the pill

Posted on May 11, 2017 by

I left work, got in the car, turned up the heat. Stopped at Whole Foods and spent $59 on sushi, beer, incense, an organic squash and head of garlic. Caught myself chewing the hair that grows beneath my lip driving … Continue reading →

Posted in music, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

Fugue in G Minor (“keep it like a secret”)

Posted on May 7, 2017 by

It was hard to understand my relationship with that CD. I remember the day I bought it in Portland my last visit to Loren before Germany. I knew the record but felt I should own it on CD, I only … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, music, travel, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 19 Comments

Blue skied an’ cleared one Saturday 

Posted on May 6, 2017 by

The slow collapse of order brought me comfort, the release to chaos. The house in disarray with shoes everywhere and kids and unclaimed cups and odd dining hours (10 o’clock for dinner) that reminded me of our times in France … Continue reading →

Posted in prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

First there is a mountain then there is no mountain, then there is

Posted on May 1, 2017 by

There was the outfit I’d worn the day before and probably the day before that, in a pile on the floor by the bed. I sat up and got into it like I was going in reverse, stood up, slapped … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, travel, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 23 Comments