The Hammock Papers

I would then take hands against the word, or for it, and bring about an assortment of characters to weigh the word and show me its meaning in my life. An hour or two hours later, to my amazement, a new tale would be achieved and completed. The surprise was total and lovely.

I soon discovered that I would have to work this method for the others of my life. First I rummaged my brain for words that could describe my own nightmares, of night time and time from my childhood worries, and shaped tales from these. Everything you have within this reserve is a gathering of dandelions from those years then.

The wines metaphor which appears again and again in these pages is wonderfully apt. I used to be gathering images all of my life, storing them away, and forgetting them. Somehow I had formed to send myself back again, with words as catalysts, to open up the recollections out and find out what they had to provide.

Along just how I came upon and collided, through word-association, with old and true friendships. I borrowed my pal John Huff from my childhood in Arizona and delivered him East to Green Town so that I could say good-bye to him properly. On the way I sat me down to breakfasts, lunches, and meals with the long inactive and far adored. For I used to be a boy who did indeed love his grandparents and parents and his brother, even when that brother “ditched” him.

Along just how, I came across myself in the basement working the wine-press for my father, or on leading porch Independence evening helping my Uncle Bion load and flames his home-made brass cannon. I dropped into shock Thus. No one told me to surprise myself, I might add. I came on the old and best ways of writing through ignorance and experiment and was startled when truths leaped out of bushes like quail before gunshot. I blunwas somehow true.

  • Lottie Winter
  • Read labels and avoid the chemicals outlined here
  • Take and upload a photo of the hives
  • Wash his or her face every day with a moderate cleanser
  • Renewal pruning

So I changed myself into a young man running to bring a dipper of clear rainwater out of this barrel by the side of the home. And, of course, the greater water you dip out the more flows in. The flow has ceased. I put plenty of memories and sense impressions to play with, not use, no, play with. But, of course, I had developed noticed them and, genetic enchanter that I was, was fascinated by their beauty. Trains and boxcars and the smell of coal and fire are not unsightly to children. Ugliness is a concept that we happen on and become self-conscious about later.

Counting boxcars is a best activity of children. Their elders fret and fume and jeer at the teach that holds them up, but kids gladly count number and cry the brands of the vehicles as they move from much places. And again, that supposedly ugly railyard was where carnivals and circuses arrived with elephants who washed the brick pavements with mighty streaming acid waters at five at night morning. In other words, if your son is a poet, horse manure can only just mean blooms to him; which is, of course, what horse manure has always been about.