When Dawn leaves town, Charlotte sleeps with me in our bed. Friday night, and she complained about the Brian Eno music, calling it spooky. So I carried the remains of that record with me up Cougar Mountain the next morning,… Read More ›
supernatural
Cue the Death Theme
Even though mom has cats now she won’t let them near the mice, but it’s like one of the only benefits of having cats, they’re good with mice. The cats are barn cats, kittens still, and they’ve destroyed most of… Read More ›
Once there was a way to get back homewards
My dad told my 91-year-old grandmother, his mom, we’ve moved to Germany for nine months and she seems OK with it, she says. They live about 20 minutes from each other in Pennsylvania — my dad, his sister Sue and… Read More ›
Working on leaving the living (1)
As I’m nearing my 500th post, and re-entering the job market as a writer after a 20+ year detour, I’m sharing a few stories of working for small publications in the early 90s, on the east coast. Blog title HT… Read More ›
On wood-gathering and storytelling
The trail description said it gained 700 feet, but I didn’t remember it all happening in the first five minutes. I didn’t read the notices at the trailhead or carry a map because it’s just a canyon, one way in,… Read More ›
Weekly Writing Challenge: Collecting Detail
You don’t need to leave the house to enter different worlds, they’re all hiding right here. I got down on all fours at eye-level with the three dogs and galloped across the tile from the kitchen through the dining room,… Read More ›
The Golden Hour of Knowing, The Witchcraft of Writing
I repositioned a photo of my dad in a mirror over the fireplace in our den. It’s odd because I look at the mirror and see myself, and also see him in the corner, and I look at both of… Read More ›
Love binds you in sleep
I saw your face through the frame of a dream I put it together from memory, like a snowman: The eyes, nose, smile I said I love you and looked back for a reaction, To see if it was real… Read More ›
The thing about the dead is they’re not
Today I’m rebroadcasting a post from when we lived in Germany four years ago, on the theme of death and my step-dad’s passing, five years ago today. Enjoy the holiday, and may the spirits be with you. Famous Last Words
Dead as a door-nail
I’m sitting in the den drinking beer. The fog won’t burn off, it’s cold like San Francisco. I stood in the aisle at the grocery store with the toothpaste and traveler-size section, and lost myself in the overhead music, forgot… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 