Thirteen years ago I began tracking the progress of my wattle.
Over a month I graphed it, starting with this drawing on my laundry room wall. (The laundry room wall is the best expression of the variety of winter light - I should paint the contents of the laundry room, like the iron, instead of the birdbath and the sundial. It changes colors dramatically.)
Here it is when I started.
Then Mom died, and I lost track of my wattle.
I think it's time for a Wattle Watch 2021: Return of the Wattle. I look at my fully-grown wattle every day in Zoom. It drapes over my collar.
Here it is today:
Will it be worse? Have I reached Maximum Wattle?