MAY 2, 2025
THE POT
(Cont.) As we rounded the corner of the back deck off the cabin, Jeff called my attention to several rotting planks and the fact that the feet of the 20-ton (for effect, I exaggerate, but only slightly) cauldron repurposed as a planter and sitting on the corner of the deck have actually punched through the (rotting) planks. I’d known about this for years and wanted to address it, but the task seemed so daunting and other projects so much more interesting and necessary, that removal of the cauldron and replacing the affected planks was nowhere near my cabin project list.
“Show me where I can find a shovel,” said Jeff, with the same tone he’d used on the pine pole project. “Tomorrow morning while I’m waiting for you to get outta bed, I’ll empty that big pot and move it so you can replace those planks.”
Frankly, I was afraid where this would lead. In the first place, the cauldron was Beth’s jurisdiction, and as with most things over our 42-year marriage, I’ve learned that contrary to conventional wisdom, it’s generally far safer to obtain permission than forgiveness. Besides, where would all the dirt go? The cauldron had the capacity for nearly a full cubic yard of black dirt—or so I assumed. Where did Jeff think he was going to shovel it? Not onto the deck, I presumed, but the ground is a good four feet below the deck. How would he shovel it all back into the cauldron? In short order, each question I raised prompted several more.
When I sent a text to Beth on the subject, I was hoping for the royal kibosh. Instead, I received a “Sure.”
“What did she say?” Jeff asked.
“She said, ‘Go ahead,’” I said reluctantly.
“Good. Let’s get going.” I was surprised by the abrupt change of plans. Since Jeff had decided to make this a “now” project, the next morning while I was “sleeping in,” he’d have to find another project to keep himself occupied. I led him to the shed and our supply of shovels and pots and bins into which he could shovel the dirt from the cauldron.
Soon the enormous container was relieved of its planting soil. Yet to go, however, to render it movable, were the large stones that had been placed in the lower third of the cauldron after Beth and her father (I’ve since learned) had wrestled the heavy object up a long plank and into position—some 25 or 30 years ago. Now Jeff was pulling out the rocks one by one and piling them up on the ground below. “Why would anyone load this thing with rocks?” he asked. “Why not fill it with empty, upside down pots or some other light filler objects?” His incredulity defied explanation, as he dropped an especially heavy rock on the growing pile and split another stone in half. “But rocks? Why rocks?”
The lesson in all of this, however, was a pointed one—for me, at least. The entire operation of shoveling out the dirt into manageable tubs and pots and removing a ton of rocks was completed in about 15 minutes. Together, Jeff and I could easily move the cauldron enough to gain access to the rotting planks so that I could assess what will need to be replaced. Now that they are exposed, I have sufficient motivation to overcome my natural tendency to defer and delay. To Jeff’s credit, a necessary cabin project—not “whimsical” one—that wouldn’t have been addressed until the whole cauldron and decking underneath it had crashed to the ground was now well down the pike to resolution.
Jeff 15 (assist in clearing areas in the tree garden for planting seedlings; re-re-installation of dock; installation of post-and-railing pole; cauldron move; and 11 lesser projects initiated by Jeff); Eric 3 (assist in clearing for plantings; re-re-installation of dock; installation of railing post). (Cont.)
Subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
© 2025 by Eric Nilsson
