Confession Tuesday – the garden fence poetry edition

I confess that last Friday, I asked my husband to build me a better fence around the garden. The pre-existing fence was a roll of concrete reinforcement mesh that wasn’t attached to posts nor the raised bed itself. Basically, it was a mess, and when I lost my first broccoli plant to rabbits (I think), I wanted something better. I confess that I thought it would take four or five hours to build the fence.

Enter my husband, carpenter extraordinaire. He labored part of the day on Saturday and Sunday, Monday evening, and finished up (mostly) this evening. The fence looks amazing. It will keep out moose and bunnies. I confess that after Saturday, I was uncomfortable each moment that my husband spent on the fence when he could have been working on his own projects. BUT, I should have known that he would take the time to build the most elegant and intelligent fence he could for the catawampus pre-existing raised bed.

My husband understands carpentry (amongst a lot of other cool stuff), and it would be impossible for him to be satisfied with a half-assed fence, the same way that it would be impossible for me to be satisfied with a half-assed poem. When you have respect for the art form, you will strive to master it. Folks sometimes ask me what they should do to be a poet; my first piece of advice is to read master poets, immerse yourself in what good poetry sounds like and looks like.

I confess that I think this axiom works in all aspects of life: learn about what you love, seek good examples, practice until you feel satisfied, then learn some more, practice more… A fence can be like a poem if it is crafted well enough.

Oh, and this is what a Bachelor Button looks like if the world crafts it. And the world has practiced making Bachelor Buttons quite a bit.

One Reply to “Confession Tuesday – the garden fence poetry edition”

  1. I love this analogy, and love your tribute to your husband’s meticulousness. We hold it a miracle (and maybe ‘Plantskyd’ helped) that the bunnies left our garden alone while we were gone. My husband is a ‘half-assed fence builder,’ and most of the time it’s something he takes pride in because it leaves him time for other things. That ‘other’ perspective is sometimes (not always) useful to me!

    I didn’t take ‘Sister’ with me on our trip, but yesterday afternoon I read it at a sitting and then reread several, so I’m right with you on that.

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