In the Spring, when we move into the house, we take down the six foot fence which runs bizarrely though the middle of a flower bed and extends nearly half way down the garden. Daylight floods the garden and we find another two or three feet of land which is also ours, plus a hedge struggling to survive in the gloom. I cut back the hedge and save all the beautifully straight lengths of wood. I pack them tightly all together, tall and strong, in endless odd buckets rowed up along the patio. The children ask me what they are all for. I tell them I have a plan.
We find a long established and sturdy bay tree in amongst many other shrubs at one end of the old fence, near to the house. I shape and cut away all the under branches and make a space, a cosy hidey hole, a den, just big enough for my little people to get into. This space is part of my plan.
We are out the back playing, when my friend calls to say he is at a local wood store and there are pallets going for free if we would like some? He thinks he can fit two into the back of his car for us and drop them round. I am so excited. I have been trying to lay my hands on a couple of pallets for a while now. I have plans for them too.
The pallets arrive and they are so pretty, perfectly matching, easy to line up and nail together one on top of the other. I ask the little fella if he would like to have an insect house in his under the bay tree den? He and the girls spend hours bundling up the long, straight sticks, gathering just the right pine cones from my collection and stuffing each of the little sections of the pallet with extra things they scavenge from the garden. Our insect house is looking packed full and just ready for a whole army of little creatures to move into our under-the-bay-tree shady spot. Continue reading The Mud Kitchen