Tunnel Vision

Maybe if I'd left a post-it on the bathroom mirror I would have remembered that Bill told me to expect company on Friday. Then at least I would have cleaned the bathroom and washed dishes. But last week the only thing going on in my head was Willow Harvest Tunnel Vision. And it was getting the job done: On Friday afternoon I finished sorting and bundling the last of the willow harvest.

There was just enough time left in the day to make a few willow hearts and bend a pile of willow frames. Those frames are now hanging in the window to dry.

It felt pretty good to sweep the floor, turn off the lights, and head inside at the end of the day. Until they pulled in the driveway, I completely forgot that friends were coming over to help cut one of our old willow beds.

In 90 minutes, the eight of us cut the bed Bill and I call The Snowfence. And I didn't think to take a single picture. Tunnel vision. So you'll just have to imagine four adults and four kids cutting two pickup truck loads of willow. They're using it to build a willow fence, a bunch more trellises, and some Christmas gifts.

By next winter, our snow fence will have grown back. But for now, when I look at that bed what I see are the faces of friends who have plenty on their own to-do list but always turn up when a big job needs to be cut down to size.

I just hope they have the kind of tunnel vision that kept them from noticing the dirty bathroom and messy kitchen.