Thoughts, experiences and adventures from a resident of DelSo aka Delaware Avenue South in Albany, N.Y.
I’m unsure what about an afternoon blue sky makes me think about a particular night in Berlin, an early spring evening when rain fell intermittently. N and I were doing one of the few things I had organized in advance - a 3 hour tour of the city’s sights which related to the years when … Continue reading Bowie, Berlin & Bobby Mac
As a child, my relationship with food was pretty weird stuff. There was a phase when I refused to eat steak other than if I could gnaw on the bone. I was inclined to eat my pancakes with jelly, rather than syrup, and I oddly enough picked soft boiled eggs over fried every time. Vegetables, … Continue reading Liverwurst as love language
I miss the ritual of getting dressed in what I’ve come to learn is the perfect combination of cool and warm layers for the weather. I miss the smells and views of my route. Fabric softener, especially on Sundays, lilacs in spring, freshly cut grass… Running is an exercise which captivates so many senses for … Continue reading I miss running
Although I may have the felt the absence of my uncle each day I was in Germany, I was at no loss for companionship. My steady travel companion of recent years, N, was beside me for all of the trip, early morning walks notwithstanding. In addition to his company, the timing of our trip proved … Continue reading Easter Weekend in the Black Forest with a Roman, a couple of Spaniards and a mess of Germans
These last few days in the Black Forest have been filled with both emotion and memories. This is the first time I’ve come to this part of Germany, the area where my family comes from, since being here 7 years ago with my youngest son and my Uncle Wolfgang. Walking the stone streets of Freiburg … Continue reading Finding Wolfgang
I learned this week of the loss of a friend from high school. Before I go further, you should know a couple of things - first I hesitated to write “friend,” because it’s a word that suggests a connection and intimacy that I wasn’t certain I should claim there had been between Gary and myself. … Continue reading Death of a crusader
I’ve mentioned before that I often find myself weepy when I’m in Ireland. If you know me at all, you’re aware that’s atypical of me. I’m not known to be a crier. On the occasions that I do get teary, it’s likely to be about children and animals, not songs or physical gestures. Last week, though, … Continue reading Writer’s tears
DelSo 