Tag Archives: suburbs

Straw-colored grass, a bed of needles

Posted on July 26, 2017 by

The owl-eyed veterinarian talks too fast, wears her hair in a bun. The bun’s so tight it makes her eyes bulge. It’s always the same, we care about our dog and cat’s health, we start with good intentions. But her … Continue reading →

Posted in musings, prose | Tagged , , , , , , | 29 Comments

Portrait of a house cat eating a bird one Thursday

Posted on April 21, 2017 by

Charlotte and I sat at the breakfast nook eating frozen pizza and watching our cat Roxy eat a bird. I watched Charlotte watching Roxy for a few bites before she realized what Roxy was eating and was glad when she … Continue reading →

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

‘Most likely you go your way and I’ll go mine’

Posted on April 2, 2017 by

We got up. Though it was a Saturday we were out of bed by 6. It was getting grayish out and I wanted to see it. There’s a soft fade in reverse, mornings here. There’s some quiet before the kids … Continue reading →

Posted in humor, Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 9 Comments

Listening to the band Suicide in a Peet’s coffeeshop in the suburbs, Redmond

Posted on February 21, 2017 by

I didn’t like the band Suicide before I heard them because I didn’t like their name, and when I saw the album art I liked them even less, it was the name Suicide made to look like it’d been carved … Continue reading →

Posted in music, travel | Tagged , , , , , , | 20 Comments

A branch the size of an oar on a medieval slave ship

Posted on February 11, 2017 by

I worked a couple hours in the yard cleaning up branches and breaking down limbs clipping, sweeping, yanking out roots and pruning, stuff we probably should have done in the fall—then just got in the car and drove out to … Continue reading →

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

A degree off from beige

Posted on February 3, 2017 by

I don’t know why, but I built a fire out back in the afternoon and stood by it. It got so cold one night a planting pot blew out the side and hung open like a cartoon mouth on a … Continue reading →

Posted in prose | Tagged , , , , , , , | 17 Comments

How the week ends

Posted on July 8, 2016 by

The leather couch in the family room I thought would break in but never did, that reminds me of times we paused while climbing a mountain and the care required to anchor yourself on a glacier for fear of slipping … Continue reading →

Posted in musings | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments