Every year, I read the seasonal reminders in gardening columns to sharpen and oil my tools, and what is my response? To leave them out on the porch for yet another season and trust that their sturdiness will outweigh my neglect.
My mother gifted me some really spiffy tools when I was just getting started in the garden. A couple of sturdy Corona trowels (red handles, so harder to lose in the garden),
some big ol’ loppers, a collapsible pruning saw and, best and fanciest of all, some Felco No. 2 hand pruners.
I should take better care of these special tools, and yet I find myself not doing so. What is wrong with me? Is there a gene for people who properly look after their tools, and I have failed to inherit it?
Poor tools, I feel sorry for them that they had to come and live with me. They are likely to have a hard life, full of usefulness but appreciated only in thought, not in deed. How about you, do you care for your tools in practice or only in your heart?