Wild Oak Press

On the last day of class, I whispered goodbye to the press and promised it that I would print again. It has taken me 46 years to fulfill that promise with the acquisition of a Line-o-Scribe 1411 and some type. When I look out at the wild oak tree growing on my land, ki shrugs and thinks nothing of the delay. In tree time, it is but an instant.

Finally I can print tales of the trees, and amuse my friends by sending them real pieces of paper with things printed upon them.