The tree limbs had the same shape as pipe cleaners, the pipe cleaners Dawn got at Michaels for some school project but the cat co-opted them, figured they were toys designed for her, batting them around on the wood floor… Read More ›
pets
Tourette’s
There are times I come out of the men’s room at the Microsoft campus and can’t remember where I am. I look left and right, I pick a direction and walk with confidence but it all looks similar and slightly… Read More ›
The stain that won’t abate becomes a feature
The never-ending stain on the rug at the threshold between the kitchen and the dining room has the tenacity of a birth mark, it’s as hard to remove, has become my daily penance, a Greek who’s upset the gods now on… Read More ›
Chameleon, don’t paint yourself the color of perfection
It was very late August that summer we stopped in Portland on the way to the Redwoods and Loren made me some CD with early Pink Floyd I hadn’t heard, and I waited to play it until we left a… Read More ›
Coming back, Perimeter Road (SeaTac)
All the houses in the new developments are the color of graham crackers with about as much variety as you’d find in the grocery store, the only difference is in the finishes. The CD player on the Honda Pilot keeps… Read More ›
Vergangenheitsbewältigung
Our German teacher has us saying the words Cherry, Church and Kitchen in German. They all sound the same, she asks if we can hear the difference — it’s how you clasp the vowels. We can’t. It’s a “ch” sound… Read More ›
Open your heart to the trees
The doormat can’t go askew but it does, and I have to straighten it each time I go by. Cats act no different than people when they’re high on cat nip, on drugs: self-centered, prone to violent acts. Still I… Read More ›
A short rant on unwanted pets, a wish gone afoul
My cat thinks she can dazzle me with her stubbornness, but she has no idea what she’s up against. If she wants to stay out overnight and get her internal organs punctured by an owl’s talons that’s fine, as long… Read More ›
Beer, blankets and sunsets
That time of year the days outlast us, the sun comes through the trees and into our family room around 9 PM. Saturday night with Cat Stevens, the girls’ dramatic dance interpretations of Peace Train, the irony that my mom… Read More ›
Chicken crap for the soul
Dawn’s been egging me on to embrace my dark side: no more chicken soup for the soul crap, she said. At some point, you’re going to have to decide if you’re Mitch Albom or David Foster Wallace. When we bought… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 