|a stick with cracks... but William pear wood|
It's a bit softer than the Manchurian pear so I'll have to see what sort of polish it will take - when I get to that point... Still this piece has some grace and reminds me of my Nana.
|and under the bark there really is some nice wood.|
My maternal grandparents retired to Mornington just after the second war. They considered chickens at the start but Grandpa worked out it was cheaper to buy the eggs. By the time I came for summer holdays the fruit trees were well established. They had two sorts of peach, apricots and plums. I remember hot days - I just sat in the shade and ate the best fruit but Nana sat up in the hot west window of the kitchen bottling fruit as hard as she could go - "to save its life". On other days Nana was tall and elegant and dressed up to the nines and went shopping in town with her friend Mrs Murray.