July 15, 2010
Miners, Booksellers, BC ferries, round off, back flip, yeah, round off, back flip, collapse, not so yeah, liquor store, home, skype look at the size of this cockle, what’s a cockle? oh bollocks I forgot to water the garden, pound, pound, oh bollocks that looks like a rat, it’s a very long walk to the hose across the street would the “insert Mayor vernacular” city ever turn the shaggin water on, rat, shuffle, strawberries gobble, lettuce swipe, spring onion chomp, nice fella at the back who grows flowers in the pitch dark bee chat, watering can to wet clogs to home to icepack to end.
July 14, 2010
I have never gotten so lost as I got today in Campbell River. I appeared to go to the airport 4 times while attempting to go in the polar opposite direction. By the fourth circle (and it’s a very very long detour when you do it on the scale of what I achieved) I thought fuck it, might as well head to Port Hardy.
Campbell River is a small place! I have been there at least 10 times. How do I manage this neuroscientists?
Lots of people camping inside portable subdivisions. Enlighten me as to why it’s necessary to bring an entire suburb and street lamps on your holidays?
July 13, 2010
Oh Jesus the Patron Saint of hangovers is Bibiana. How bout that for some imbibing b’s? Another gloriously uplifting mad house, flogged to death inspiring tale. Gulp.
July 13, 2010
Quick quiz, this is better than scrabble nearly…
Who is the Patron Saint of Nettle Rash?
Yup.
You got it.
Benedict.
***
For a bonus five points who is the Patron Saint of fistula? (More to the point what the heck is fistula? But if you’ve got it you’ll know it and need the saint)
Yup
Indeed.
You’re right.
It’s Fiacre.
You knew it, tip of your tongue….!
July 13, 2010
Who knew? It’s Saint Barbara. She’s the patron saint of fortifications and mine collapse, that pretty much covers the poly tunnel/Greenhouse needs.
Babs do what you can me would you? Especially the big dip in the middle of the poly there….
You can read all about her here: it’s pretty gruesome
July 13, 2010
Poly saints
What a remarkably complicated day in the area of car tires.
First they were doomed, double doomed at Kingsway and 11th.
Then they were not doomed, 2 man spoke them not in the slightest doomed at Fraser and Kingsway.
Then I had to dance all the way back down Kingsway to celebrate with 3 pieces of toast and a cup of coffee with Jane to recover from all the diagnosing and misdiagnosing.
I am a short person with a Greenhouse needing reconstruction. I do not have time for such rubber excitement. I am down and too far gone with the Poly.
And all this in the quest for the road to Campbell River followed by a detour into the museum of miners. I wonder if there is a patron saint of poly tunnels, the way there is a patron saint for just about everything.
July 12, 2010
After pulling the mighty spuds yesterday I woke with the crazed idea I wanted to construct a greenhouse on my balcony. As per usual with me getting notions, I couldn’t let them away so sped off to the hardware shop and engaged the knowledge of approx 10 different individuals and emerged with what I thought were the necessary ingredients to construct my greenhouse in the manner in which I imagined it.
Inbetween I went to a meeting with Lori Wiedenhammer at Vandusen to discuss our upcoming Fall performance art collaboration Chaos. Lori has the greatest ideas and fueled undoubtably by their potency and the sight of two trillion floating lilypads I threw myself into building the greenhouse in a very cramped work space on my return.
Quelle Disastre! At one point I was rolling in poly (4mm if you’re wondering, I went cheap) the poles were collapsing in on me, I was entombed in plastic and bricks were not co-operating. Then I got a call from “loveliest of trees the cherry now” Ms Ita Kane and how tempted was I to hop out this mess and see her and the wee man. I have to keep going, I said. You have to keep going, she replied.
I returned to the hardware shop I engaged the knowledge of 4 further men there, who all said the same thing, you’re trying to build the thing without doing any affixing. We discussed cement, concrete, filler, expander. Every one of them had a different idea on how I could do it. Some of them were Spanish which given the outcome of the match gave them good cheer and patience with this dementing small person insisting there must be a way to do it with the minimum of hassle.
Inbetween a fella decided to rob a very pricey table saw and there was a bit of distraction as they chased him across the car park to retrieve it. He looked like he was participating in an insurance advert — the robber — so thoroughly composed was he throughout, swinging it as though it really belonged to him. Alarms clanging. I was amazed at the number of random customers who gave chase (biblical chase?). Everyone wanted in on the action except me who just wanted an explanation on packaged filler versus the pot stuff.
Out the back, finally, I alighted on them. Precisely the holey bricks I needed to make my poles co-operate. Unfortunately they were very heavy, but it had to be done. The Greenhouse dream must live on. I hoicked them home to the distress of my lower back. It took 12 journeys to get 4 bricks upstairs. I now have 4 excess red bricks.
But remarkably I do have a greenhouse. It’s not the world’s most official looking greenhouse, but that’s grand. And I built it. And I feel very useful.
In celebration I went to my garden plot and a second victory … I found them lying in state on the chard plant. The four slugs who’ve been visiting after nightfall and making polkadot of the chard. They had a salty night alright.
What a botanically victorious day it was. Alas there’s a bit of a breeze so I hope I still have a greenhouse by tomorrow.