Not just for the birds
The moodTraced in the shadowAn indecipherable cause Heavy rain closed school today. Flooded roads. I got to work in the brewery; close. Yesterday we drove back from our quick trip east of the mountains. We looked but didn't find. We're out of shape and gravity keeps showing up for work. The Strait is mostly mud. …
"The road to Neah Bay is serpentine, a thin twist of wet double-yellow-lined gray. It flirts for twenty miles with the edge of cliffs that seem to stand at the mercy of the Strait of Juan de Fuca and its wide swath of soon-to-be Pacific Ocean. Mapmakers mark it as scenic when it would be …
A year ago we said our final goodbye to Angus, stroking him as the pentobarbital dimmed his eyes, sweet boy reposed in the back of the Jeep now owned by the man and woman who bred him. A few weeks ago, on our final day as residents of chukar country, knowing later that evening we'd …
Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita... About halfway through his life, Peat has finally realized his incessant hope for a sibling who'll play with him. It took less than a week. In Peat's five full years with Angus, Angus rarely deigned even to humor Peat's attempts to play. Peat never stopped trying, but whether …
Mr Leopold Bloom ate with relish the inner organs of beasts and fowls. -- James Joyce, Ulysses Related by blood both to Angus and Peat, Bloom, finally, like the spring, has arrived. It's amazing our capacity for forgetting. The sudden shift of frame a puppy brings: Peat's now the mature, even stately, one. I expected …