If I had more spare time, I would be a consummate DIYer. I would master skills ranging from house painting to brick laying and everything in between. I would have thousands of dollars of extra disposable income because I would save large amounts of money by fixing my own toilet and cooking up my own jam. Even better, my lifestyle would be at least seventy-five percent more sustainable.
Unfortunately, I have to work for a living.
I have come to terms with that and generally content myself with doing all my own yard and garden chores and making my own bread. To my way of thinking, those pursuits are laudable, but not nearly enough. The media regularly reminds me that there are people out there who work eighty hours a week and still have time to throw pots, whittle custom croquet sets out of salvaged wood or build their own artisanal garden sheds. It is maddening.
I have resolved to try harder. I am going to make my own holiday wreath. What’s more, I am going to make it out of materials that I harvest myself from my own garden. I already own a spool or two of florist’s wire and the requisite garden gloves. All I really have to do is assemble disparate elements.
First I need a wreath form. The most abundant wreath material on my premises is the rampant and unkillable Japanese wisteria vine planted by some long-ago predecessor of my next door neighbor. The wisteria has elbowed its way onto my lot, going over the fence, under the fence, and, when it can find a gap, through the fence. I can easily harvest scores of linear feet of
wisteria, while simultaneously pruning the intrusive vines. All I will have to do is form those pliable stems into a circle and secure them with florist’s wire to complete my wreath form.
I have decided that my wreath will be a holly wreath. My yard is home to three enormous holly trees, one of which is rife with red berries. I can take as many holly cuttings as I want, bind them with more of my magic wire, and affix them to the wound-up wisteria. I’ll add variety to my wreath by incorporating some bunches of Osmanthus heterophyllus or variegated false holly that grows at the feet of the true hollies. It is extremely prickly, but its cream-splotched leaves are showy. Both holly and osmanthus keep their good looks for quite a while after they have been harvested, meaning that my wreath will remain attractive throughout the holiday season. If I want even more excitement, I can add in some bunches of winter creeper, or Euonymus fortunei, which is also variegated, with cream leaf margins that tend to turn pinkish in cold weather.
Cutting ample stems of holly and osmanthus for the wreath will effectively prune those specimens a bit. That will satisfy my desire to multi-task, which is almost as strong as my creative urge.
I might also include some English ivy or Helix hedera. My gardening self would like to eradicate it from the property, as it tends to be invasive. I haven’t been able to complete that task, so it seems right and fitting to cut some for the wreath, thereby invoking the old Christmas carol, “The Holly and the Ivy” in my decorating.
If I were being really creative and sustainable, I would adorn my wreath with a “bow” made out of two large pinecones hot glued together and wired onto the completed item. However, unlike the really crafty individuals of my acquaintance, I have no idea where I stowed the hot glue gun the last time I used it five years ago. I don’t have time to plumb the depths of the cellar to find it either. I’ll make do with a big red bow. To salve my conscience, I will tie it myself, using an extravagant number of red velvet ribbon loops.
Of course, my self-imposed schedule suggests that I will do all of the foregoing in about thirty minutes time while also potting up the last of the tulip bulbs and making dinner rolls from scratch. I have to stay focused. Otherwise the dinner rolls may well wind up wired to the wreath and the bulbs will find their way into the oven, victims of DIY hysteria.