My left heel hasn’t been right since I tripped down the steps in the Bahnhof on the way to a beer festival a couple weeks ago, the traditional Bavarian Trachten shoes a half-size too big, making it that much harder… Read More ›
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The piper will lead us to reason
At the German school, the kids get dismissed for five minutes between every class to go outside and get some fresh air or have a smoke, some of the younger ones play on the climbing bars and hang upside down… Read More ›
De do do do, Die, Das, Der, Dem
Six years ago we were leaving Germany about this time following a three month sabbatical, and I was returning to work. It may have been auspicious, I had a blowout on the highway and had to call roadside assistance my first… Read More ›
Anyone at all
When the time comes you have nowhere left to go, go back to sleep and forget about things for sleep is like death and won’t come when it’s called – it’s better to sleep without the weight of dreams and wake… Read More ›
Uncommon denominators
Today we put down a deposit on a used car in a town we couldn’t pronounce that sounded like a slur or spit coming up — Eberhard got right on the used car search with his handy at the Bahnhof… Read More ›
Who needs Munich when you’ve got the Wasen?
For reasons perhaps too private to get into it’s hard peeing in lederhosen, hard undoing the suspenders through the clasps when you’ve been drinking, hard clearing the edge of the leather because they don’t come with flies or barn doors,… Read More ›
How to love, with fences
There are limits to my love as with fences to remind us what’s ours and keep things out, keep things in — Love is a word we use for protection, like all things defined there’s a start, an end, and… Read More ›
Leaves clawing the cobblestones
When the French arrive, it’s with armsful of things from France: breads wrapped in brown paper bags, coolers full of cheese, boxes of wine, even duvets for their beds. It feels like a hotel and we lose track of how… Read More ›
First poem for fall
That first fall something found me there, the greys and browns of northwest Pennsylvania, what little light you find come November, the last of the leaves flapping just a few here and there, and yet … Read More ›
The Highly Capable Program Nomination Ends Tomorrow
When I was in school, they called it Gifted. After Gifted came Honours, and after that, was everyone else. Heike’s son Sascha speaks perfect English, with a delicate English accent (he’s 11) and explains how it works here in Germany:… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 