TYPEWRITER

Please allow me to express mu undying enthusiasm for the darling book called “TYPEWRITER” subtitled: the history * the machine * the writers!

Tony Allan and the Shelter Harbor Press have assembled, written, compiled and printed a masterful, informative and pictorially engaging work. It shows both scholarly research and a playful mind on the part of the author. Thank you for creating this book!

The particular book I read was courtesy of the Main library in Reading, Pennsylvania. A book-plate added to the front inside cover pages have added this book is in memory of Jan L. Deelman and “was purchased with funds donated from his estate.”

The book contains a page devoted to the parts of a typewriter, a diagram as nice as some illustrations of the points of a horse that I’ve seen. Only a typewriter has no soft velvety muzzle, although you can write about one with it.

Was especially delighted to learn about holding a Type In. It would be a riot to plan and host one here in Reading. Hold me to it!

N – 1 over 1

A walk this morning at Gring’s Mill to marker 7, the site of the Winters Mill and on to red Bridge and back. Sunshine and blue skies, decent temperature making it a sparkling day. Found a small green candy wrapper with Asian characters, a discarded white facial tissue that had become folded and flattened just enough to forma a pattern much like petals. Checked my balance on the wooden beams of the parcouse. My balance was good.

Admired the trees. Said hello to some of the walkers and joggers and mothers with children in carriages. On a Wednesday morning, there is light traffic. enough to keep you company  without being overcrowded.

Wondered why one sycamore in particular has its trunk forming hard bony protrusions much like some horses’ withers. A glance across the Tulpehocken Creek leads me to think it may have something to do with the telephone pole. The growth of the tree trunk is that direction, at the angle that points that way.

On the fine screenings of the path further up find an oval sticker “Proud to be an American” that looks like the kind a customer may receive at one of the local grocery stores. the stickers come in rolls and the cashiers will give you one or two if you ask.

Near the 6 marker is  a   metal (stainless?) piece of some kind with a black rubber tip. Ten holes have been made in a row lengthwise. It is a piece from something – to make an adjustment? I left it there.

A splendid pathling composed of black walnut stems. No pen , no paper, no camera, had to measure it with index finer and rely on recollection. At red bridge watched the reflection of the ripples of the creek upon the underside of the bridge and wondered how the two affect each other over time. Beyond that point a couple of squirrels chattered and chased on the trunk of a big tree.

This is the time of year the ash blades fall to the ground. At first these look like fairy oars; as they become weathered and trodden the blades split break up a bot. A bowl of ash blades makes a marvelous fall decoration – just to look at, sift through your finger, hear the very faint rustle of a big collection of them. And the color – neutral and gentle.

On the way back to car, saw a perfect example of the compound leaf of a shagbark hickory. It was in the center of the path lit by sun and was extremely tempted to touch it but did not. Also one very nice Judas tree leaf – heart-shaped; and a locust tree that has grown as large as some sycamores get. You do not see locust trees that large very often.

The one pathling had been disturbed by travelers by the time this writer got back to it. I spent some time thinking about my father William, whose name comes from the German Wilhelm for helmet. He died at age 55 from colon cancer or its complications. The name of his high school yearbook was the Colophon. Reflecting on this made me wonder if it is not only fiber and diet that affect the health of the colon, but also its Ph.

Back to the sycamore tree with sideways withers, observe a Bell Telephone pole within the park. Metal numbers and a letter with a dash

             N – 1     

                         1      

are nailed to the pole. the lines connect to the larger telephone pole across the stream.

More pathlings, one of a broken pine cone in vertical section with pine needles. Met a friend from the horse world and her 21-month old son!

 

 

 

 

Do Not Touch God

  DO NOT TOUCH GOD

Courtesy of the Reading Library and the extension of lending privileges, over the weekend watched two DVD’s: The Asphalt Jungle and Septien. Although these are two totally different films they get rousing recommendations and wholehearted endorsements from the Heron Report.

The reason they are totally different is one is black and white and one is in color.

The reason you might find them interesting is that they are interesting.

The reason to watch them is they are well-done on all counts. One is old. One is new. One is city, the other is country.

Both depict human relationships – the first mapped out and completed with flawless execution by director John Huston, right down to the last blade of bluegrass; the second is absorbing and allows time to reflect its unexpected and sensitive content, down to the fuzzy warm football, from Director Michael Tully.

ANOINTED

Digital Red Emery

   A red emery board lies on the asphalt, parallel to the yellow line that marks one of the spaces at the post office. As I fumble with the engineering compass to obtain the heading of the man-made arrow to find out if it is pointing north, I get a reading of 330: it appears to be shy of north by 30 degrees west. How did it get here? How did I get here?

   Today I am doing bullet work. There is just one thing that must be done today and that is pay the Target bill. I have accomplished that and more. Here is my account.

   I slept from (blank) until (blank) on the couch in the living room. When I got up I played guess the time .

   “It’s between two and three,” I said, traversing the dining room to bedroom and kitchen, where the clock on the stove read 2:27 in digital red.   

   I fed the cats, changed to go out and went out. I stopped at the bank to withdraw money. I drove toward Target. The sky, which delivered light rain this morning, now was the color of a bleached heron. An unbleached heron flew, flapping eastward, in the sky over Spring Ridge at 3:11. It made me glad to see one.

   Morphine was playing on the radio when I arrived at the shopping center. At Target, I picked up a lighter someone had dropped inside the store. It was filled with lighter fluid. It was light. It was pale pinky-orange-red. It was a cheap one. It had no markings. It lay on the carpet between the food area and the dollar deals section where the indoor carts cluster. A lighter would not be the kind of thing I would want running loose in my store. I gave it to the individual who processed my payment, which was for twenty per cent of the total and six times the minimum amount due. Exited without further excitement, leaving the lost light lighter behind, and photographed a round sticker with a happy giraffe face next to the pedestrian crossing area with its multi-stripes of safety yellow-orange that run at a diagonal to the curb kerb.

   Next, visited the library jonesing for a computer and suspecting they were in possession of my library card. Yes, they were holding. Was assigned a public computer next to a man who has been searching for a job from there for weeks. The computer monitor in front of him contains his resume.

   During a check on business, I learn Target has dropped Amazon Kindle. I learn I have an order to be fulfilled. The computer next to displays a letter to Human Resources. I go home to the fulfillment center and process my order. I learn about the evils of sugar by perusing a book, like when you go on a vacation you take one last look at where you’ve been. At 5:37 the package is taped and ready to go with me to the post office. I drive like a conservative bat out of hell to get it off by 6:00 p.m.

   “Take the Skinheads Bowling” plays in the radio during the drive on the expressway in Reading PA, much to my amusement. My amusement, My amusement. The package I busted ass to send off will arrive next Thursday, Next Thursday? Next Thursday!

   Read my memory. A red emery board is in the space I pull into at the post office. This is how it got there.

Cast Rite Metal

   A Cast Rite box truck is on the road the same time as I travel by car to walk. Cast Rite Metal is located in Birdsboro, from what my reading of the lettering on the vehicle tells me.

   My arrival at the park is greeted by something the crew has deposited in front of the dumpster: a crumpled 50-gallon steel  drum. The cast away container stands upright, yet is a third of its normal circumference. No longer round, its outline is irregular.

    The color, possibly once green, is now rust. Its patina is that of having been submerged in the water for a while. It looks like some of the crew dragged it out of the creek, there is the thread of a weed across the top, stuck on a jagged edge.

   It looks like a sculpture that an artist would make of a steel drum container – one that might cost a good sum. This is the original.

   As for this morning’s walk, there are no herons along the creek that I can see under the overcast light gray sky and clouds that bring intermittent rain. Trees and shrubs are filling out, the forest is filling in with new, green foliage and wildflowers such as Philadelphia fleabane and wild geranium polka dot nature’s dress.

Gotta Love This Crazy Market and CCTV 115(degrees)

Fila delphia today and snapping Sleepymobile pictures along the  way, beginning at Chick-fil-a in Exeter/Mount Penn area proceeding along 422 east toward Pottstown to the GAS FOOD LODGING signs. Today is a four day and the end of the summer vacation month of August. There was a Thomas school bus 31 on Green Tree. Before my very driving eyes goes a brief flash of vanity in the form of auto tag GETSBRG, why not? I saw men in green painting the bike lanes along the parkway in front of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. GOTTA LOVE THIS CRAZY MARKET! was the clear lettering on a freestanding sign near a Douglassville agency. I saw a blue heron sketch on the white Hay Creek Watershed sign in Birdsboro on the way back. I saw a hard-hatted man digging a ditch near city hall; his hard hat was dotted with stickers and so was a nearby lamp or sign post. After presenting a coupon and tapping into a free coffee at ING Cafe on Walnut – where the Free Library Banner is purple and reads Prosperity (good Feng shui!), I tried some things on for size, as if Superwomanmodel, in dressing room 11 at Lucky Brand jeans, where Taina works. Short time and distance up block in the hereafter find a heads up penny on the sidewalk: glee ♣! I see a sign outdoors near city hall that has been slapped with a fine heart sticker with the word Lucky printed in cursive inside. I picked up trash with some urgency, including an evanescent fluorescent orange poster that has the permament writing: Can you please make a donation toward our football teamSaints family football THANK YOU #1 QB. Bought blue anchor notecards at Paper Source to send to Massachusetts. Paper Source is positively intoxicating. Alyson rings up my sale, giving the purchase a nice striped bag in which to ride home.  A Triune Color (paper * mailhouse * bindery) panel truck was parked out front. Carr & Duff Going Green employees worked along the Schuylkill expressway beneath the solar panels. The writing was on the cement walk near the PMA. One of the bronzes out front of the PMA seems to be missing its left arm and the whites of its eyes are pronounced beneath a streaky patina on its tresses. On Elm, a man exited an apartment building called the Nightmare. A hawk cried out from the peak of the garage roof between 519 and 520 this morning – that is not a time, that is a partial address – and one of the big tits of litter I scarfed up is a Hawk box. After the hawk and before Exeter, trainspotting in Wyomissing led to JBHunt Intermodal, Clipper Worldwide and the fascinating term controlled logistics. The drive-up ATM at Wells Fargo was tight-lipped, allowing for no card insertion, keeping all accounts intact.

linky linky linky linky:

http://www.thomasbus.com/

http://www.papersource.com/

http://www.luckybrand.com/

http://www.sleepys.com/

Red Del Tote

Red Del Tote by Allison Huyett

 

Some train cars bear the marking REBODY. Today is the Fourth of July.  A few have chosen to begin with fishing along the Tulpehocken creek.  I have found Pick of the Litter in a red, green and black folded Unilever brand enclosure. Part of the delivery address shows up in an arc of white lettering: P.O. Box 19007. I like to accept it as is.

The path contains many sycamore bark pathlings from recent rains. Some are flat and some are three-dimensional curled leaves of bark.  The path also has flourishes from decorative bike riding: circles and stops and curlicues.

Early into my walk, the bird chirps and soft flow of water are interrupted by an outburst.

“I had a big rainbow swipe at it,” says a man in wader boots. “I mean a big one.”

I keep walking. I take a picture of a dead mole. The fishing buddy of the man in waders is an upstreamstanding man in waders, holding a net with the bottom rounded out.

“First catch of the day!” says Upstreamstandingman. His hand is in the net. The fish flips around his fingers.

The screen on my cellular telephone indicates 7:10 a.m.

A heron dips its bill into the water near Red Bridge. The heron stands on junky island and must stretch its neck down to sip.

Among the many people bicycling and walking, these tee-shirt words combine: New River Disney Nerd.

This man has a field day: A man sets a water bottle upright in the meadow. He distances himself from it.  He turns to sprint toward it like a barrel racing horse. He repeats.

At the far end of the trail I locate a small red white and blue produce sticker. It must be fruit, but not bananas.

When I try to look up code 4015 at the World’s Cleanest Grocery store, the self-serving terminal voice says “Help is required for this item.”

A store associate helps with the code inquiry. The result is Red Delicious (apple) tote (bag), abbreviated.

The garden at home contains an illicit extra garden ornament.The extraneous item is a blue hen planter that is broken into bits. Delaware’s state bird is not the red hen, but the blue. spending part of the day recharging exhausted camera battery and battery low warning on mobile phone. Carry on, hope you have a nice Fourth of July! Celebrate independence.