I dropped the kids off at theater camp with the other awkward-looking children not cut out for sports, pale and withdrawn, future artists: and Charlotte’s outfit, a riot of stripes and patterns — she’s still doing that thing where she… Read More ›
Scotland
American family of expats braces themselves for Storm Abigail in Scottish flat with beer and leek soup, candles
Maybe it’s a tribal thing or instinct, but when a blogger friend from Bristol warned me of heavy winds forecast for where we’re staying in western Scotland, I snapped into action. I pulled my wife aside, who was in another… Read More ›
‘A shadow on the door of a cottage on the shore’
It has the feel of a wet campground, all the smoke and everything damp, watching the Guy Fawkes 5th of November fireworks and bonfire display here in Inverness, the largest festival of its kind in northern Scotland, because I have… Read More ›
‘Tight framing of shots,’ 1974
It’s like I’m caught on flypaper, trying to leave the Scottish bar: they’re on to me, an American tourist here for a week, all of them asking questions. It starts with the old guy and his dog who’s sniffing my… Read More ›
Still life with broken tile
When we arrive at our flat outside of Arbroath the owners ask us what are we doing here, politely, which is a fair question, and I mumble something about coming from Newcastle by way of Amsterdam and touring 90 days… Read More ›
Strange dreams on a boat crossing the North Sea
In the cocktail lounge at dusk as the boat’s engines are starting, there’s an empty stage planned for live entertainment later, and Walking on the Moon playing, and it seems every song is made just for us and our journey… Read More ›
Pinklightsabre Announces UK Winter Tour
Here is a list of where we’ll be when in the UK, for anyone who wants to pop by or meet up or look after our kids so Dawn and I can go to a pub. If you’ve been to… Read More ›
‘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 Thane of Cawdor stole my log-in
Our kids threw a mild hissy fit about not being in the States for Halloween, complaining they’d gotten gypped, or in Germany — where the holiday’s just caught on — instead, we’ll be somewhere in Scotland, hopefully near a castle,… Read More ›
The logic of the bells
I turn like a rotisserie chicken every quarter hour in bed, with a window angled open toward the church up the street and the bells tolling every 15 minutes, and I wonder if they’re live bells or triggered by some… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 