Seven wooden hanging baskets line our south porch. We call them “the fuchsia baskets” because for almost as long as we can remember that’s what they hold. In the summer and fall those fuchsias nod and smile at us as we come and go.
The baskets have been falling apart for some years now. Nyel has patched and re-patched and I think at least two containers had to be thrown out after they disintegrated completely. Meanwhile, we’ve kept our eyes peeled for suitable (preferably identical) replacements and have found none.
My dad got the current ones somewhere thirty or more years ago. He had an eye for unusual (and often handmade) items for the garden. Our fence pickets, our bird feeder, and these hanging baskets all come under that category. And, of course, eventually in our misty-moisty climate such items need to be replaced. Nyel has become an expert in the Garden Accessory Replacement biz.
This summer, his attention has been divided between the ever-ongoing Fence Project and the Hanging Basket Project. I am happy to report that the HBP is nearing completion. Only painting and repotting (rebasketing?) remain to be done and then the fuchsias will have fine new containers in which to strut their stuff.
I am full of awe and admiration regarding this latest endeavor by Carpenter Nyel. It has involved taking apart one of the disintegrating baskets, making a pattern, then cutting out and assembling eighteen separate cedar pieces (mostly made from scraps left over from the aforementioned FP) for each of the seven baskets. It’s a project that has required tenacity, perseverance and attention to detail – qualities that Nyel has in abundance.
I’ve been mentioning all this to the fuchsias on a regular basis – keeping them informed about progress in the garage at the other end of the house. Some of those fuchsias have wintered over two or three times and I think might be quite attached to their current crumbling containers. I hope the shock of bright new baskets isn’t too much for them. Forewarning is the least I can do…
And, as Father Tom Williams says in a completely different context – it’s the most I can do and it’s all I can do! That and clap and cheer!
What fun to image Nyel at the workbench! I can bring up a vision of the fuchsia baskets and the blossoms therein. Clapping and cheering from the sidelines is an important part of all projects. I will clap in Healdsburg and hope the sound will make it to O’Ville. If not, perhaps a few words of “job well done” might be music to Nyel’s ears. Applause!
That is the sort of thing my dad would have done and so would our friend Jon. Nowadays, people just toss something and go find a substitute. Men like Nyel and Jon are as scares as hens’ teeth.