This is a fairly average haul from an hours trip to the woods of sticks that must be brought home.
The larger branch in the picture had to be carried on Bill's shoulders like a 17th century milk pail. I hope that all the parked cars in the street on the way home have their paintwork still intact.
and then what happens to them? This particular selection were/are being used to create a collaborative musical piece called 'Bang the smaller sticks on the larger sticks whilst singing Christmas Carols at top volume in August'. It's pretty moving stuff.
Often they're Wands of Death- 'Avada Kedavra!' Bill has certainly embraced his Slytherin side.
As I type they've turned into fencing sabres- inspired obviously by our Olympic trip. I must get them to work on their shrieks of victory. They're just not loud or piercing enough.
Now Bill has tried sharpening one with a pencil sharpener and created something that really could be an instrument of death: "Bill- that's really dangerous!", "Cool- I've made a Proper Weapon!"
But sooner or later they all end up down the back of the sofa. I always go there first when searching for kindling for the wood burner come winter. Or when I can't work out why something seems to be sticking into my back when I collapse into it of an evening. No great mystery to be stuck by a stick.
Sticks. As good as a cardboard box.
Stick book? Can't beat my favourite Julia Donaldson and Axel Scheffler book; 'Stick Man'. It sure puts you through the emotional wringer. The most perfect story arc.
this fab post from Playing By the Book. Although I still have my doubts about the need for a book of what to do with a stick ideas. I never thought I'd say this but that may be a book too far.