In the winter the snow plough whacked the side of the shed and ripped off some panels. The bits of wood lay on the ground for weeks, and each time I passed I thought i could make something of that. I asked if I could have the wood and I carried them on to our balcony with the idea to build something. A box for flowers or something.
The planks then lay there for months and months and I never did anything. They were moved from corner to corner on the balcony and nothing ever happened to them. They were an eyesore.
During the time they lay there I visualised various constructions, tiered quarter pyrimids, steped terraces, all requiring mathematical calculations, exact measurements and infinate skill to bring them into existance. Everything should be worked out in my head and drawn on paper before any attempt could be made in making the mother of all flower boxes. I never got passed the thinking stage, and the planks remained stacked on the balcony.
You see there are only certain boxes that can be built with the amount of planks that I had. The thicker wood for the braces would only be enough for a box of a certain size and shape, so one day in Spring after a period of 9 months, just like a pregnancy. I gave birth to a box with two sections. A deep section for a rose and lavender, and a shallow section for a small desert and an oasis with rocks and birds.
How many people try to build a castle with 25 planks of wood? Efforts to do things are limited by resources and imagination. The box is not the best in the world and it would not win any prizes in box beauty competitions, but for now it is a miniture pleasure garden.
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