It’s been a long time coming, but it looks like the first pencils are pushing through. Sharpening the trunks to reveal the graphite core has not been easy and has been, in many ways, a disappointment. Ideally the “lead” would have passed through the small branches which would have afforded me a source of handy sized pencils, which I would only have had to snap off, as and when needed, and sharpen with a pen/cil knife. A bunch of fresh young pencils, en primeur, would have made a very acceptable gift which may have turned into a profitable business. I am no stranger to snatching defeat from the jaws of victory so I was not altogether surprised by Mother Nature’s little prank. As it is, with only the availability of the sapling size, I shall be looking to the market of Scots caber tossers who might like to keep the score, with a man sized instrument, in between tosses.
Remarkably, Benjamin Franklin, sold pencils from his shop in Pennsylvania. Spelling was not his strong suit.