The Trellis

     Two of them you could never see.  The third one is somewhat visible since I trimmed the juniper on the corner.

      Wagon wheels spruce up our yard.  One stood by the air conditioning unit just outside the front door.  It was nearly invisible, hiding under the spruces that guard the walkway and entrance to our front door.

     The third one sits in seclusion near the southwest corner of the house where the fence separates backyard from front yard.  It truly is hidden by evergreens that line the walk.

     When we first moved in, a little strip of soil bordering the garage wall had some kind of perennial branch that grew nearly to the eaves of the garage roof.  There was never a bloom of any kind. In the backyard, huge roses grew to over six feet high and blossomed profusely.  They wasted their sweetness on the desert air to paraphrase an elegy-writing poet.

      Why shouldn’t those roses be in the front where somebody might see them?  So I dug out the old plants by the garage and transplanted the three biggest rose bushes from the backyard.

      The roses seemed intent on proving the oldest rule in real estate:  location, location, location.  They emulated the former dwellers and grew up to the garage eaves.  They didn’t blossom.  What is in that soil?

     The roses did spill their canes out onto the driveway and the sidewalk, however.  They need a trellis, I thought.  I looked at various and sundry arbors to support plants.  Anything that fit the bill came with a healthy price tag.

       Why not use a wagon wheel?  It seemed a good idea.  I grabbed a shovel and began moving rocks piled around the wheel near the air conditioning unit.  I made an amazing discovery.  The wheel stood so straight and true without ever leaning because, it was embedded, about six inches of it, in concrete.

      One reason not to use a wagon wheel to support the roses, freeing the wheel from its resting place was going to be a challenge.  A shovel and a hammer didn’t cut it.  Neither did a chisel.

      A trip to the farm produced a crow bar.  Now I was well equipped to chunk away at the concrete, doing my best not to injure the wheel.  It still took a bit of work, but the wheel finally rolled out of its castings.

       How to stabilize the wheel in its new location amongst the roses?   Concrete worked before.  I guess it would work again.  I did not like the concrete around the wooden parts of the wheel.  The wood tended to rot. 

     Therefore, I made a small form, mixed up some Quickcrete, poured it into the form and let it set for an hour or two.  Carefully, I rolled the wheel up onto the stiffening mixture.  It made a dandy impression.  I rolled it off and let the concrete set overnight. 

     I should have let it set for two or three nights.  The small pad stood still for the removal of the forms.  But when I rolled the wheel into place in its track, the concrete went to pieces somewhat.   Still, it made a nice perch for the wheel.  But it wasn’t going to stand there by itself, concrete notwithstanding.

      I bought some four-foot sections of rebar and drove them down on either side of the wheel.  Another trip to the farm yielded some old rusty pump rod.  Those I bent into the shape of an arc as best I could.  I drove the ends of the pump rod into the earth and connected them to the wheel with, what else?  Bailing wire.  Duct tape wouldn’t work for this job.

      There was the trellis in all its rustic glory, glory that would soon be hidden by rose bushes, I hoped. 

                                             Rose bushes a-plenty, actual roses rather rare.

      You too, could have a trellis.  All it takes is a spare wagon wheel, a crow bar, some rebar, a hammer, some old rusty pump rod, a sack of premixed concrete, some 2 X 4’s for forms, a screw gun and screws to hold the forms together, a little water for the cement, and you are good to go.