The Goal Of Life

Day 242: The Chickens have been sitting on top of my drier for months now, finished and ready to frame, but I was undecided on how I wanted to mount the piece. My needlecrafts often don't fit a standard frame, and in the past, I've used a variety of ways to make them hangable, including sewn cloth borders with rod pockets or tabs, or sometimes buying an old frame at a thrift store and cutting it down to size. I specifically wanted a rustic look for the Chickens, but since thrift-store shopping is out of the question these days, I chose to go with wood I had on hand, i.e., a couple of lengths of plaster lath turned on edge and carefully, oh so very carefully, nailed together at the corners with fine brads (I drilled the holes first to prevent the wood from splitting). Once the shadow-box was complete, I glued in a line of garden twine set back 3/8" from the front to serve as a retainer. The mounted needlework was popped in from the back and secured in place with a piece of cardboard. Then I added a hanging cord and bingo! The Chickens were ready to put on the wall.

Repurposing

Day 33: The "fall" has finally arrived, nearly six weeks past the customary point when the dogwood and Japanese maple drop their leaves, and that despite several nights in the low and mid-twenties. The contorted filbert's foliage has barely changed colour, and that silly fool begonia on my front step is hanging onto its leaves in an inexplicable act of defiance. I want to know why this year is different, why the abscission layer hasn't formed, why the leaves haven't dropped when they should have done so in mid-September. "Curiouser and curiouser," said Alice, and I would gladly follow her down any rabbit hole which might lead to an answer. But all this aside, you really didn't want to rake, did you? I'm here to give you reasons to justify your position.

It goes without saying that leaves were not meant to be raked. If they are to be moved at all, the process should come about at the whim of an autumn gale; a redistribution of resource, if you will. Decaying leaves contribute to a healthy soil base. Okay, they mat your grass, but lawns are an affectation, to say nothing of being a pain in the neck to mow. Leaf litter adds nutritional elements to the soil both directly and indirectly as frass excreted by insects which consume decaying vegetation. Fallen leaves also provide protection for small critters such as overwintering butterflies and moths. Other wildlife may insulate their nests and dens with shed foliage. If you simply must maintain a lawn because you're legally bound by a homeowner's association contract or other human ridiculousness, then repurpose the "fall" by using it as mulch. I spread mine over a particularly nasty patch of buttercups I'm trying to kill, and also bed a loose layer around my fig tree to prevent frost damage to its roots. If this is still not to your liking, compost leaves and till the result into your garden in the spring. You'll have happier vegs for the effort. The moral of this story is clear. In the words of Zeno of Citium, "The goal of life is living in agreement with Nature."