So on a typical Monday here in the suburbs: Lily (12) starts seeing a therapist and texts me, “My therapist said I shouldn’t worry about finishing my homework tonight.” Charlotte (10) is caught moping over the kitchen island drawing another… Read More ›
“Discreet Music” is the name of a Brian Eno album from 1975 and also a new blog series I’m running through January, prompted by a journal-writing theme I started in Germany over the holidays. It’s inspired by the David Sedaris… Read More ›
Came home from work and washed my hands, poured the last of the white wine. The January bugs are back, gray and plain, looking in at me sideways. A flock of birds like playing cards shuffled, then rearranged. There must… Read More ›
It’s been a busy week, which is strange for the first week of the year. But I’m ending a project we started in September, with about a dozen CEO’s from companies around the world meeting over a few days. C-level… Read More ›
The memoir, the story of your life, is an object of questionable value. You hold it in your hands, shake, listen: what’s inside? Is there a lock? Does it open? What’s it for? You could take it to someone who… Read More ›
Eberhard put school pictures of the girls in a pack of cigarettes and we said goodbye, gave him the last of the turkey in a Ziploc bag. When he leaves, mom always goes to the kitchen sink window where they… Read More ›
24 Dezember, 17 Besigheim, Baden-Württemberg Early morning, happy snoring sounds in bed with Dawn—then mom and I by the banquette watching the birds gather outside by her window. We stayed up late playing Dan Fogelberg songs on mom’s tablet, Dawn… Read More ›
My pants don’t fit, and we can’t get the lyrics right to any of the Steely Dan songs. Cooked onion hangs like phlegm from the lips of Eberhard, the seafood gumbo I made: we were so full from lunch, mom… Read More ›
This month I’ve been featuring journal-style stories from our time visiting my mom in a small German village in Baden-Württemberg. The series is named after a post from 2014, before we moved here for nine months. We had to leave… Read More ›
Chocolates with brandy inside, cheese, special cakes from Saxony. Taking pictures of the cats before they took down the tree. The tree, the one mom got the year John was sick and couldn’t come down for Christmas, so she set… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 