Discombobulation

Back on Gabriola and of course the first thing I do is check out the garden project. Near the back door I discover one of my basil plants thriving while the other has been chomped almost to non-existence by slugs. Hmm. All other herbs doing well. Good.

Down in the garden I can see that Pat, bless him, has indeed added some lime to the vegetable plot and has watered the garden. Begin closer inspection.


Oh, my god, there are actual tomatoes growing! And these are cherry tomatoes, so they’ll be ready to eat sooner than they look! And there are lots more flowers on both plants than when I left. Hurrah!

Good thing the veg plot has been limed and is ready to roll, because the seeds I put in little pots to sprout have done just that.


Lots of lettuce coming along and it will soon be time to start some more.


Can’t remember what this or some of the others are. Must check my dubious filing system. Woo hoo! This is exciting stuff.


Sadly, as I predicted, I missed the unfolding of my beautiful Blueberry Hill roses. It’s looking a bit blowsy, but there are still a few buds to open and it has lots of new growth, as does my poor scrappy, survivor rose bush which I now begin to honestly believe could produce some roses this year. Blimey, I’m good.

I do wish my belongings were here from England. In amongst all the packed boxes is a silver rose bowl, inherited from my mother, which could be put to good use. Oh, well, ETA is now early August and there will still be plenty of roses then (she predicts, optimistically).

Of course, the rose bowl isn’t the only thing I’m looking forward to seeing again. A bed in Burnaby would be nice, too.

Yes, I know it’s got nothing to do with the garden project, but followers may be interested in the progress of my other big summer project: the transformation of the beige Burnaby flat. So, here goes.

Last Sunday week I arrived at the beige apartment with six gallons of paint, brushes, rollers, paint trays and, most importantly, my friend Catherine’s son Josh, the professional decorator, who is my new god.

In one very long day we managed, thanks to Josh, to banish the beige in the livingroom, diningroom, hall, both bedrooms and the kitchen.

So, this

became this.


And this

became this.

Which will look a lot better when my furniture arrives. I thank Catherine for the loan of an air mattress, but it’s not quite the same thing as a bed. (That said, I’m not sure how long it will take after furniture delivery to have a bed as the movers took the frame apart and I’m not at all sure I remember how to put it back together. Suspect there will be rather a lot of cursing involved in the process.)

And this

became this.


We didn’t make it to the bathroom (well, not for painting at any rate), but the addition of my old, funky shower curtain helps it look less dismal. Next time.

The whole week away was rather discombobulating. I was, after all, on a mission to turn a beige flat into a place that felt like home. Which then begged the question of where the hell home is. Is it Gabriola (where I’m loving the garden project, but am unlikely, when the time comes – as sadly it must – to find work) or is it Burnaby (which will look much more like my home when my furniture arrives)?

Time will tell.

In the meantime, the forecast is for a scorcher of a day, so I need to get out to the garden to do some watering and transplanting before the sun is over the yard arm.