Late February is such a tricky time in the garden. Our climate is mild enough so that I can (in theory) get out there and garden, get started with all the things that I have been chomping at the bit to do over the long winter months. And then, it starts pouring. I know this is a classic spring garden rant, and my mama didn't raise no whiner, so I'll try not to disgrace her with too much blubbing. But it's just so wet, and the soil is so cold and I can't tell from one day to the next what will happen. Wah Wah Wah!
Bentwood Gate Saga Part I
One of my projects, besides the hillside, is a bentwood gate, made from elder. It is precisely half done. It is right now under the eaves, with all the pieces measured and cut, standing dutifully by like wooden soldiers encamped behind my house, awaiting orders. And I am awaiting a dry day or two so I can finish it. It has been bucketing for the past week! I hope the wood is all right. The book I have been reading as a reference for this project 'Making Bentwood Trellises' by the knowledgable Jim Long, warns that the wood can lose it's flexibility in just 24 hours. I cut these branches over a week ago, and am not sure where to find more elder branches that are as straight and as thick. I am fretting over it like a hen over her chicks, and I am wishing I picked a different hobby, like Gussie Finknottle's: newts. So harmless, and they love the wet weather. I could take my newt sailing on rhododendron leaves, or on elder branches lashed together, down the rainwater stream in the gutter across the street. I would name him Huck, and we could have adventures.