A Covered Story
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The other day a repairman came to check the air-conditioning system. As he was about to leave he looked around the living room in wonder. Quickly I said, “Yes, I like to surround myself with things I love. Some of the art is mine. Others I have collected from area artists.” “Well, he said, tentatively, “It’s good that you have a hobby.”
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“Right,” I thought, “How sweet. A hobby. Something to keep the little gray haired lady busy!”
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If he knew what my current project was, he’d really wonder!
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Years ago when a friend was newly married with lots of love and enthusiasm and not much money, she decorated her small apartment by sewing coordinating covers for things – the wedding present toaster, blender and mixer, the flour and sugar canisters, the spoon holder, the bread basket, the napkin holder, everything. And that was just the kitchen. These covers also matched the curtains, the tablecloth, the chair cushions and the napkins. It was a sea of chintz! At the time I thought she was crazy!
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Much later as I pondered a new art project I remembered all those covered objects and realized why she had coordinated everything. If you cover things with the same material then they become unified and work together. Nothing stands out. Nothing detracts from the whole. Nothing commands attention. There is also nothing original or unique. Everything is equal and flaws are concealed. This works in life too. Think of all the different types of uniforms - military, school, restaurant, hospital. All work to unify the whole, not to mention being cost effective. And on another level, covering lends an air of secrecy, mystery, wonder and, of course, beauty.
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Thus began my foray into covering.
A fair sized branch fell from the maple tree in the back yard. It was graceful and upright it looked like a full grown tree. Lovely, I thought as I dragged it to the patio. There it lay as I contemplated the shape. What could I do with that branch? I could paint it…I could decorate it…I could carve into it…I could hang it…stand it in the corner…break it into firewood…so many things to ponder. Then I remembered covering and soon I began making a crocheted cover out of a dark red yarn for my tree. I know, I know. The last thing a tree needs is a sweater. Well, actually trees sometimes do need covers as I discovered while researching my project. Sunscald is a winter time injury to tree trunks, caused by the sun. Deciduous trees are without leaves, night temperatures often fall below freezing and the winter sun is low in the sky. These factors combine to cause sunscald. The remedy is to wrap the tree trunk during this time. Ha! A tree sweater.
Once you’ve crocheted a cover for the first tree, it isn’t much of a leap to do the second, and then the third and so on. Pretty soon I was finishing up my 6th tree. Okay, that’s it, I told myself. I now had a grove.
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Most of the branches came from the soft maple tree in my back yard, but two limbs of a rather distinct windblown shape came from the grounds of the Bartlett Recreation Center where I found them and gingerly stuffed them into my car. As I was deciding on the best way to stow a rather large branch, a man came along. “I can break it up for you and put it in the trunk,” he said reaching for the branch. “Oh, no, no, no,” I said quickly. “It’s for an art project.” He backed off a bit with a confused look on his face. “Just call me crazy…or creative.” I said. “Guess I’ll go with creative,” he replied doubtfully.
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There is a trick to making a cover for a tree. You might think that you would hold the tree on your lap as you crocheted the yarn around each branch. That might work, I suppose, but I discovered that making sections and then sewing them in place is a more efficient system. Now, here is my confession: I’ve crocheted around stuff before. I started with a taxidermied deer head. Yep, antlers and all. Called it Buck, Covered! I was pretty up close and personal with that dead animal for quite some time.
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The gallery exhibition of my work was coming up soon and, being the obsessive that I am, I had everything all figured out. I would rent an enclosed truck to cart my trees to the downtown gallery. There was no way I could get more than one tree at a time in my car. I reserved the truck and made out a schedule for the day: pick up the truck, drive to the house, load the trees, drive to the gallery and unload. Then return the truck, pick up my car and drive back to the gallery to begin the install. Piece of cake! I worried over the all the possible stumbling blocks: rain, heavy traffic, construction en route and above all, the trees shoved into a heap of broken branches at the back of the truck. Funny, I never once considered that the truck wouldn’t start!
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Rain was promised, but the day dawned clear. A bit of a bump when the 12’ truck I reserved was unavailable. I would have to use a 15 footer. Ugh! Bigger is not necessarily better, but the price was the same. I’ve driven a truck several times before. It is not something I do regularly so I am cautious, but I consider myself a self-sufficient woman so I felt up to the task. After loading the trees and securing the door, I climbed in and turned the key in the ignition. Nothing. Not even a spark. I sat and thought and then tried every car/truck starting combination I could think of. I was becoming more and more agitated. Finally, I called the truck rental place. I was given suggestions, but nothing worked. A repair person was dispatched. I sighed. It could be hours!
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Now I could have gone into the house, of course, but instead I sat in the truck trying to think calm thoughts as the seconds ticked by. I got out my sketchbook and drew my neighbors house with the two bright pink flamingos standing guard among the shrubs. Then I posted the sketch to Facebook for fun. Keep it light, I thought.
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An hour and four sketches later, the repairman arrived. I handed him the keys, he climbed into the rental truck and turned the key in the ignition. Without any hesitation at all, the truck roared to life! I stood there dumbfounded. I was a mass of conflicted emotions. I was disgusted that I hadn’t been able to start the truck myself (you know that, “women can’t do anything mechanical, older women can do less,” sort of thing) and relieved that it was such an easy fix. I wouldn’t need a tow or a new truck. I wouldn’t need to unload and reload trees. I wouldn’t need to waste more time.
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According to Jack, the truck repair person, Ford trucks sometimes do this and the trick is to push up on the gear shift before turning the key. I tried it as he instructed. It worked and I was thankfully on my way.
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I was an hour behind schedule, but the good part was that the sun was shining and the traffic was moving right along. My only worry was that with every bump and jolt of the truck my precious trees were breaking up. I decided that if they were a mass of yarn covered broken limbs, I would simply pile them in the corner and call the installation, Fallen Forrest!
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Much to my delight, the trees were intact and after unloading and a posing for a few pictures of me at the helm of the truck I was ready to return my steed. I gently knocked the gear shift up as instructed and confidently turned the key in the ignition. Nothing!!! I couldn’t believe it. I jiggled, I hit, I prodded, I poked, I adjusted, but nothing worked. The truck just sat. As I called Jack again, a gallery worker came to see if he could help. I handed him the phone and after a few seconds, this very nice guy got into the truck, turned the key in the ignition and presto, the engine sprang to life. Uggggh! Apparently, the ability to grow chin hair is essential in dealing with this truck!
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The installation of six trees with crocheted covers I called, “Secondary Growth” looked wonderful in the gallery and was quite well received. I was so pleased with the results and delighted that family and friends came to the reception. It was a wonderful evening.
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Besides asking why I crocheted covers for these six trees, people often asked, “How long did it take?” My answer: “A long time!” But it wasn’t a horrible, terrible, agonizing ordeal. It was pleasant. Rather Zen like. And I missed the focused feeling after finishing the last tree. When my Turkish friend saw the work in the gallery, she exclaimed, “Oh, Mary K you must have added at least 8 days to your life with this project.” “Added or subtracted?” I wondered. Her thought is that stress, frustration and aggravation subtract days, but certain pleasant, repetitive activities add life days. Well, I may have lost a couple of days dealing with that truck, but all in all I think I came out far ahead.
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My next project? Hmmm…perhaps a few 4 x 5 inch paintings!