..or rather up the willow trees at the end of my mother's garden cutting whips to make some bases. These trees are quite old for willow and the trunks are splitting and the foxes are burrowing underneath them. They were the trees we used to climb as children, and we used to use the branches to make bows and arrows. They regularly got wasps nests in them and were full of caterpillars in the summer, which used to add a bit of excitement.
Mike, my elder brother, once got up into the tree above the nest hole with a broom and whacked the tree very hard, holding a can of silver spray paint in the other hand so he could spray the wasps on the way out (why?why?) I watched out of the window from the house. He got quite a few before the whole nest turned on him. I've never seen him run so fast, up the garden back to the house tearing off his shirt as he ran, to get them out of his clothes. Hur hur. So getting up there today brought on a bout of nostalgia..
Here is the cut willow, and below is the bases I made with them.