Oh, you know, the usual…
I came out this afternoon to bask and found that the labyrinth had, overnight, turned into a shady respite.
At some point I will probably have to weed-whack the paving stones to keep the grass from overtaking them. I think they’re lovely au naturel, but I can see where it could turn into a problem. I know we have a brick walkway in the front yard that no one has seen for years for that very reason.
As promised, photos of the new fern growth:
Over by the stone steps at the northpoint. Autumn ferns, still rust-colored, but really putting forth. These have been there longer than any of the others, I think, so it really gives me hope that the whole garden will eventually be really gorgeous.
Southern wood ferns over where the tree fell. You may recall that they were slow putting out, but I think once they’re established, they’re going to be huge.
Photos cannot do these justice. They’re Japanese painted ghost ferns, and they’re beautiful. I need more of them here at the westpoint. I will have to restrain myself from buying and planting more until I have the stone circle actually installed.
After having been away from the labyrinth all week due to the Objects class at the Alliance, I was hoping to get back out there today. Alas, of course, it is raining. I did take a quick tour around the place right after lunch and am very happy to report that the ferns are becoming magnificent. I’ll have photos tomorrow.
In other news, next Saturday, May 1, is World Labyrinth Day. I can’t decide what, if anything, I want to do to celebrate. Half of me wants to light the candles and sit quietly by myself. The other half wants to throw open the gates.
Discuss.
I stopped by my now-favorite supplier of stones, whose name I forget but who is out on Hwy 34 next to the tropical fish place, and picked up this:
I’m going to try to make it serve as the basis for the westpoint sculpture. The young woman who helped me pick it out said that they had a guy making oil lamps out of rocks like this, and he used a blowtorch to burn the rock away. It’s worth a try, unless my grinder has some kind of diamond wheel attachment. The depression only has to be a quarter of an inch, after all.
There’s still the problem of drilling holes into it and balancing the thing. Something tells me there’s going to be a third piece of rebar holding up the front edge.
In other news, all the ferns I planted last year are reviving, with the possible exception of the three southern wood ferns that went where the tree fell. They don’t seem to be putting out any new growth. But look at everyone else:
I wish I could get some clear pictures of the little painted ghost ferns. Those are delicately beautiful.
On the other hand, I think the cinnamon ferns over by the glider may have died. I know the Mexican male ferns that went by the entrance to the men’s loo did. And apparently I’m the only person in history known to have killed off ostrich ferns. I’ll plant some more and dare them to take over the southwest corner.
The weather has been so gorgeous this week that I have been largely worthless in terms of creativity. I have come home, changed straight into kilt and sandals, and hit the back yard for some serious basking.
My plan is to use next week to work on my art, plus the herb garden and a little labyrinth work, so perhaps I can be forgiven for doing nothing at all this week. It’s been glorious.
In my defense, there is no better feeling than the warmth of the sun on your skin, and just now is perfect: warm sun, but not hot, and no annoying insects that require management. Just perfect basking weather.
The labyrinth is slowly reviving itself, looking greener and greener. The ferns have put forth fiddleheads and will soon be flourishing. The space welcomes.
Some days I’ve had quiet music playing. On others I just listen to the windchimes and the sound of the neighborhood. Sometimes I’ll catch up on blogs that are blocked at school. I’ve read an essay by Joseph Campbell that Jobie sent last week and annotated it. But mostly I’ve slept.
Somehow it seemed the right thing to do. You are always welcome to join me.
I got busy this morning and completed the eastpoint:
I added the cowbells I bought in Senoia a couple of months ago. At first, I just used rope, but the weight of the bells pulled the rebar posts too far out of line. I added the copper pipe as a stiffener, and it not only works, it looks good. Here’s a closeup:
OK, so the photos don’t do it justice. But there’s Air complete. The only real point to complete now is West/Water. Perhaps during spring break.
This afternoon was so beautiful outside, I just basked in the sun. Well, I quaffed a couple of quaffs of Xtabentun. But the afternoon earned it. You should have been there.
For at least a year now I have planned to use some leftovers from the construction of the labyrinth to build the westpoint focus. These are the bits of the paving stones that I lopped off to make the curves of the turns. I noticed that if I put them all together they’d form a nice stone circle.
I immediately desired to put them at the westpoint of the labyrinth, as a kind of gate to wherever the labyrinth leads. (As Craig pointed out, it might also be a gate leading in.)
As I’ve thought about it, I’ve been amassing stuff to help pull it together, literally: cables, ties, etc.. My plan is to drill a hole in each of the pieces and thread a coated cable through them to hold them in place. (I know I’ve talked about this before. I’m recapping.)
Until recently I haven’t been able to see exactly how I would mount/display this gate, but traipsing from point A to point B in Savannah last weekend gave me the time to meditate on it. Lest you think I am able to actually meditate, let me hasten to clarify: my thoughts were more or less “if we came across the coolest garden shop ever and they had exactly what I wanted, what would it look like?”
It would look like this:
I want a flat, table-like stone that either has a natural shallow basin in it or that I can grind one into. This gives me the water I need for the West’s element. The shallow nature will keep mosquitoes from using it as a breeding ground, because it’ll evaporate before they can spawn. Maybe.
I’ll drill holes in the table and through the circle and insert rebar through as standards. Under the table, I guess I’ll wrap wire or use epoxy or something to keep the table from slipping down.
The next question, now that I’ve decided what it will look like, is whether the circle stones (which are actually just concrete) are deep enough to have a rebar-sized hole drilled in them. I’m betting not. I’m betting I have to go find actual stones to do this with.
A quest!
Spring break approaches. (The iPhone says we have seven days, 21 hours, and change.) So it’s time, don’t you think, for us to discuss what I should focus on?
I thought about hitting the music hard, but I don’t really have anything to work on. I have a couple of things to get in the mail that week, but they’re already written. As for the 24 Hour Challenge, I may actually restart that tonight.
Last weekend in Savannah, I was inspired by the art, and I thought then that perhaps I should spend the week sketching and painting, just fulfilling that Lichtenbergian goal of producing as much crap as I can.
There’s also the herb garden, it will be time finally, almost, to plant stuff, so that’s a semi-major project I can take on. Actually, I bought lettuce today. It was on my schedule to do so, a schedule that was penciled in when it was supposed to be sunny today. Oh well. I’ve moved it to Saturday. But that’s only the lettuce. The bulk of the herb planting will have to wait.
And there’s always the labyrinth itself. I need to get serious about the westpoint focus. If I’m really bored, I may do a sketch tonight of what’s been bubbling up through my brain.
There’s also the revamping of the southpoint. I have to find copper sheeting in pieces wider than the one foot rolls available at the Hobby Lobby, however.
The eastpoint still needs some development. I have the white paper flags, and that was easy. (Note to self: pick up the rained-on wads of white paper before mowing…) But I also want to string a rope with the cowbells I bought in Senoia between the two poles. I was thinking about some kind of semi-elaborate pipe/cap thing.
So, to recap, here are our choices for my energies on spring break:
Discuss. Be specific in your desires.
I have two mysteries.
First, this book has disappeared from my bedside. Utterly vanished.
It was there one day, and the next, it was gone. I am fairly certain that it was there one morning and gone that afternoon, but I cannot swear to that.
It’s the fifth in L. M. Boston’s gentle and intriguing Green Knowe fantasy series, and I had checked it out to begin reading it. I had it perched on top of a row of books on the bedside table, meaning to start it as my “churn through the children’s book” reading.
But it vanished. It would be insane to think that our housekeepers picked it up, but I have no other plausible explanation. I have no memory at all of taking it from its place to somewhere else where I hoped to begin reading it, and it is nowhere in our house. I have searched top to bottom, study to basement. It’s gone.
Anyone have a clue about this one?
The second mystery is even weirder.
This CD, Ed DeGenaro’s Dog House, was in the CD player in the kitchen. There is no case. Neither of us know the artist at all, and the music is not familiar to us even from a cursory listening.
Did one of you bring it over to play for me and simply forgot it?
Did one of our house sitters put on his favorite music one night and forget to take it home with him?
Maybe it belongs to the housekeepers.
Or maybe it’s all owing to the agency of an ill-natured fairy, and I am the victim of its clumsy arrangements.
