Mom still had the non-alcoholic beers I’d left two years ago and surprisingly, they tasted the same. We went to the mall to buy her a pop socket for her phone and I helped clean up her file storage, then… Read More ›
travel
Ghost story
This is a series of posts written from my mom’s house in Germany. Many of the restaurants and people I know are gone late August but some are starting to trickle back before I leave, in early September. So the… Read More ›
Frets and fingers
Somewhere mom got this new painting, possibly from the old barn they just cleaned out, of a medieval-looking village by a tall stone wall beside a flowing river. It isn’t her village but could be, as there must be hundreds… Read More ›
Found art
Each day was cut from its own pattern and this day was Sunday. Here in mom’s small town in Germany most of the shops were closed. Only gas stations and bakeries were open, bakeries just in the morning. And that… Read More ›
First Sunday in Germany
This is a series of posts written from my mom’s house in Germany, this one titled the same as my first post on WordPress written 15 years ago this month. And just like I did every time Eberhard picked us… Read More ›
Goin’ back
Whether it was the summer rain patting the pavement or the lentils burbling in the slow cooker I cannot say, but the sound was such a comfort it put me in a trance. I flittered between reading and napping as… Read More ›
Trick-or-treating in the Scottish Highlands
The first thing you need to know about trick-or-treating in Scotland is it’s not called trick-or-treating, it’s called guising. And you don’t get candy for free just by waving your bags out, you have to sing a tune or recite… Read More ›
Auf dem Kies
Slinking about the town we stick to the edges like rats, we climb the old stone walls sideways. The old stone walls that bulge beneath the fachwerk, that flank the village to the north and south. The village that has… Read More ›
A film of light
The candle starts off bright but soon goes dim. And that’s OK because the light from outside comes on as the candle’s gone down. The two match each other’s dimness. I sit in the dark with my blanket and the… Read More ›
Let go into the mystery
The dark pockets of mom’s old house were something to see. It could be depressing too, how the leaning walls closed in on you. But for a Sunday morning in late August with the rain coming down I was glad… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 