Summer and Her Falling Squirrel Are Here
The State of the Paper
July was a getting back to form in some ways and not in others. The Philly Trash Paper instagram account is back to regularly posting and making new content. There is a lot of cool stuff on the horizon and lots of great new ideas for some trash to art pieces. Stay tuned to the PTP account for updates and reveals.
As far as my writing goes, I am teetering on the edge of the finale for my current major writing project. It feels like I just need a good week of focus to churn out the ending to my novel/novella. Yet I haven’t been able to take that plunge. I have been writing up until that precipice but not over it yet. I am determined that by the end of August or September I will have completed it, so we will see if I can make that happen.
Only three pieces for your reading pleasure this week. We first have a look into our backyard as it explodes with summer. The next volume of Claude-by-Cheese arrives, with a nautical adventure looming. Finally we have the fan favorite Ruth’s Book Corner with a simply sumptuous summer read. That’s all for this issue and as always, thanks for reading.
-Niall
Back Again in Summer
It’s a bustling time of year for our little slice of backyard. The mystery sprouts that we had been cultivating in the unused pot from our building’s door step, turned out to mostly be clover and other weeds. The marigold and wildflower seeds that I sowed seem to have all but evaporated under the summer sun.
Our coleus, after suffering damage wrought by a falling squirrel, has been slow to recover. It seems to be fully back to the voracious growth stage we have come to expect from our coleus, although it’s unlikely this one will hit the same heights as previous ones.
Curious about the falling squirrel? No worries, we will get to him in a second, but first let’s take a moment to appreciate some ferns. While spring was nosing its way into the space between our bricks, Taylor said to me “don’t pull any ferns, I want to have a little garden of them.” So I diligently weeded around the ferns, letting them roll out their furry arms and rejoice in life with their neighbors. It’s surprising how just a few ferns really make it feel a little wild in our backyard.
Without further adieu, let’s talk about Merv. Our current squirrel resident is a young dare devil. I mean no midlife crisis squirrel is taking a dive bomb from two stories up on the gutter to crash land in a flower box. I wouldn’t have believed that young Merv had it in him if I didn’t see it first hand. Besides doing death defying dives, Merv mostly just hangs around looking for the occasional handout of food or companionship. I was doing some wood carving the other day and who stops by to sit and watch but Merv. He has been a welcome critter around the backyard, although Greta still is undecided on whether she wants to befriend Merv or eat him.
Claude-by-Cheese Vol. 5
Exhausted by the flurry of events I had just undergone, I only just managed to keep my eyes open long enough to get off at the right stop. Leaden steps took me to right outside the port’s offices. There I huddled in a half sleep, head bobbing in an anxious scan, until dawn started its slow matriculation in the sky and the scurrying of feet on the dock spoke of the sailors and workers rising to start the day.
A burly looking black rat kicked me softly in the ribs. I stared at him and he gestured for me to move.
“Apologies.”
All I got in return was a grunt as the rat unlocked the Port Office door. I expected him to slam the door in my face but he kept it open and I hesitantly stepped in. The office was outdated but tidy. A coffee machine tucked into one corner was taking the rat’s attention as he carefully measured grounds into a filter. A few worn chairs dotted the far wall and a large counter behind which various nautical maps were pinned.
“I wasn’t expecting ya until about noon, what’s the hurry that required ya to sleep in the doorway of my office?”
I must have had the most bewildered expression cause the big rat sighed and clicked the coffee maker into action.
“Ya boss called me up and said one of her researchers caught his nose to the trail of some lost town. Would probably need a boat of some kind.” The rat got two cups out from under the counter, squinted at them, blew them off and handed one to me. “She’s an old friend so I consider it a favor to her to deal with some mouse with his head stuck in the clouds.”
“Well just so you know, those clouds have some pretty nasty things hiding in them.”
The rat froze, eyes narrowed, his cords of muscles going taught under the black fur.
“Was that a threat?”
Realizing my mistake I hastily explained my previous evening’s flight from deadly pursuers. The rat eased up, but never lost the edge of tension that had come over him.
“Ya had good sense to come here. Seems like the sooner ya on a ship, the safer ya will be. Let me go check the docket, see who could possibly squeeze ya in. Do you have any clue on where ya are going?”
“A vague notion, I have to head north towards a town called Porter-Pa.”
“Porter-Pa? I don’t think I’ve heard of that.”
“An old sea-mouse told me about it, maybe it goes by a different name now.”
“Hum maybe, take a look at this map and see if you can’t get a vague location to work off of. I’ll go find ya a captain dumb enough to haul your dry tail about.”
The rat disappeared into the back of the office and I was left with a nautical map he had pointed out to me. At first glance I couldn’t orientate myself. The display of shallows and water depth had me turned around but I pieced it together. Tracing one paw up the wide shored river that ran into and through the city, I made my way north on the map. Passing lots of branches and channels I kept going until my paw covered a town called Por Father.
“Por Father, that can’t possibly be Porter-Pa could it?”
I whispered hunched over the map as I was. As I was tracing the lines of streams and rivers that snaked away from the town, I noticed a peculiar looking outcropping of land into the river. The map labeled it Salmon Head, and from this bird’s eye view it did look like the slight gaping mouth of a salmon. I circled my paw around it and was struck by something in the child’s rhyme I was chasing.
“Don’t miss the brown bear’s meal.”
My breathy exhalation caught the black rat by surprise as he returned into the room.
“I have never seen anyone so excited over a map before.”
“I found it, I found where I have to go!”
“Good for ya, I have found someone dumb enough to take you along your little quest. Although I don’t think you will be thanking me much.”
As it turned out the big rat was right, my new captain was a fair shake more wild than I had imagined.
Ruth’s Book Corner
If you are still looking for a read that truly captures summer within its pages, look no further than Barbara Kingsolver’s Prodigal Summer. Going into this book I had read Demon Copperhead, which while excellent writing was a devastatingly sad story, so I prepared to have my heart strings tested once again. They were strummed instead. A loving caress of flowing descriptions spread across the lush Appalachian scape, is laid delicately at the feet of the reader. The story jumps between narrators, who engage and affect the wildlife around them, all in different ways. Three twining arcs that bud and branch towards love, life, and acceptance unique in their approach. I could have listened to the audiobook for many more hours, audience to it spinning its way through the flora and fawna and from mountainside to farm field. Saplings flourishing while ivy creeps and coyote search, all encompassed by the beat of a summer sun upon the verdant green growth, Come for the nature and stay for the pastoral charm as the magic of Kingsolver works its way through a loveable cast.
-Ruth