For the past four days my partner and I have done much socializing. I am social for a period of 4 days each year. It culminated last night at an opening at On Main, followed by an invitation to go to a burlesque show. I had to take my leave sadly, since I’d likely have enjoyed the burlesque, but encouraged the disappointed males to carry on, while I went home to my book Cabbagetown. I needed to read my book more than remain on the tear.
Today I had a long and fruitful chat to a friend about, amongst other things, work. We talked about some of the things burning a hole in my brain of late, As she listened, I realized there’s something about knowing someone a long time that provides an ease, interest and an understanding that’s an unmitigated blessed comfort. It’s another blessing of growing older, you know people even longer.
eighth day
And on the eighth day, after hours of struggle the Greenhouse finally stood up. I used enough poly to build 3 Greenhouses, finally resorted to the measuring tape and after embalming myself inside the thing recognized that I had the clips the wrong way round. Needed to clamp from inside not outside.
The most important aspect remains to be seen and that is whether I have succeeded in my kooky arrangement to trap any heat to nourish any happy saplings..
On va voir….
But very invigorating is defeat, and being useful. Next stop: Carpentry lessons.
6.39am This idea of alternative use of roads is sparky. Another form of accommodating. I like that they are performing plays as well as eating.
6.41am Wondering why this story on the salt mines in Bolivia doesn’t include a bolder description of the how they labour to remove the salt, other than they shovel it into piles.
6.46am Reading Cabbagetown.
Well the trouble with inspecting the garden in the dark is …. the beans I had so triumphed afore aren’t quite as dandy as last night. A woman passed my plot today and said, “your beans should be much bigger by now”. However we’re small people and maybe small people can co-exist happily with small beans.
On the other hand my beetroot….
My v first beetroot…. was worth parting the soil and retrieving. Pin up beetroot!
Yesterday I found a book called Cabbagetown — a documentary by Juan Butler. It was the words documentary that made me curious I saw them on the spine, it was on the top shelf of a book exchange in a caff and a woman climbed up and got it for me. It’s a book about an area of Toronto called Cabbagetown. A memoir of that place I think. A noisy book. I’m only starting reading it in between snips of a booklet on the history of the miners strike in Cumberland, BC.
Bean og triumph
The beans are now bean ‘og’ s. The third planting has made it to the first floor leaves without having their heads chomped off them.
Victory is sweet, quoth she.
Disaster zone
I must officially declare the building of the Greenhouse a week later a disaster zone.
I’ve tried every combination of clips and arranging and still, it is a sad dip of an affair.
The following have been visited in the pursuit of Greenhouse rising: Hardware shop x 2, plumbing shop, 2 everything shops. I have tried plastic glue, hair clips, alligator clips (or spring clamps), bulldog clips. Total cost is soaring. Seriously daft undertaking. But invigorating none the less!
This piece struck me as a beautiful exit.