Strawberry Planter

 Friday felt odd because there was nothing pressing needing doing. There were things to do, and I stayed busy all day, but it was such a pleasure to do things that I’d long thought of doing but weren’t urgent. I over ordered gutters a long time ago, so I affixed one to my edible garden fence to use as a planter for strawberries. By raising them off the ground, the slugs won’t get them. It was the slugs that had me abandon growing them in the past when I first planted them.

But before I got busy around Pinecone Park, we walked on a gorgeous morning with our friends. It was a warm and beautiful morning for a walk. It was an inspiring way to get my day underway. And when we were finished walking, we did a quick run into the village to get some groceries, then we came home for lunch and then I got down to work doing some watering and installing the new strawberry planter. 

It’s as though my garden has hit puberty. There are so many firsts: there were super blooms on the Lobelia, Climbing Hydrangea and Paulownia for the first time ever, every one of my Apple trees (4) has fruit (only one has had a tiny yield in the past), and for the first time, I have Italian plumbs. All the trees are small. They are babies, but their tiny crop is fine for one person.

The maturity of the garden adds lushness to the beds; each year it is more beautiful. And the best part, is I did all the work to make it look so nice. I need no hired help.

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All the professional events and exhibitions that I produced in the arts succeeded. My textbook succeeded. I felt successful, but they were administrative successes. The only time I felt artistic success was when I conceived of and produced a play called North Shore Live. The first time I created something that I thought was truly artistic and professional and wholly mine, was my series of craft dresses. They were my proudest artistic achievement, and no one saw them. I wasn’t interested in showing them. And now, my garden is beautiful. It fills me with pride. Whenever I go out there, I feel good, but again, hardly anyone else sees it. 

I don’t like attention. I loved doing shows, but I loathed socializing afterwards with people. I’d often have a blistering headache from the stress of being with people. Now I know why, thanks to Dr. S.

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I feel reborn by Tezspire. I can’t believe that I am keeping up on absolutely everything at P.P. I am swimming with energy, and it feels very. very good. Soon, I’ll be wood stacking. That is hard work for an old man, but I’m looking forward to doing it believe it or not. I’ll go slow and I’ll take breaks to water the gardens, but I’ll enjoy having work to do every day. I hope it will come soon.

At 14:30, I was done. It was too hot to do any more work once the planter was built. I came in for a cool shower and then I took Her Highness for a short walk on a shady trail, and she was willing to walk! She is recovered now, but I had to put a sock on her foot this morning to keep her from damaging her paw. 

When we came home from our walk, I did a little watering of the front bed so that I had less watering to do today. The weather office is still predicting sunshine and more heat for today, but Sunday may be cloudy and then in the evening, hopefully, we may have rain. And rain again on Monday. I say, fat chance! However, I am hopeful.

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I’m quite anxious about being interviewed for the CBC.

One of the hardest things for many people who stutter (PWS) is to say their own name. My lived experience has taught me that anything reflexive brings on strong stuttering, and a media interview, by nature, is reflexive. I’m being interviewed about my bad experiences accessing social services.

I have a ‘being naked in front of a crowd’ feeling about the interview. They are interviewing (fluent) Aidan about our project, Listening Equity. He’s explaining our project, and I, and other PWS being interviewed are speaking to our experience, and we all stutter. We are the disabled choir.

I am not a ‘proud’ stutterer, like some. I live alone, with pets, on an island. I spend most of my time alone. I don’t like it when the focus is on me. I never have. And as I said already, now I know why, thanks to Dr. S.

I’m nervous about the interview because it’s about me and my stutter. Thinking about it has me swaying in my seat. This is not good. I’m praying it will be via Facetime or Zoom or something, so I can see Charlie, a producer with the show. I asked for this when I wrote to BC Emergency Services. Sometimes when you get involved with advocacy, you wind up in the media. My mantra is: “You asked for this.” It gives me strength.

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I moved here suddenly, after seeing an ad for this place online. I had absolutely no thought of moving. Never! Ever! Looking at properties was my porn. The noise of downtown living was driving me mad. I moved here for silene and to be calmed by living proximate to nature.

And then I got pets and planted many garden beds in a drought zone, over tree roots. I knew I was anchoring myself by making these decisions, but I was still unaware that I would become a person who never wants to leave home. All my decisions were spontaneous and made to nurture my wounded soul. They happened quickly eighteen months after my breakdown.

During that year and a half after my nervous collapse, Dr. S. guided me through a journey of understanding and adaptation. I was having seizures every day, usually many of them, and my speech was very awkward. The breakdown, the diagnoses, and the symptoms were life changing. It was tough.

But after eighteen months, I was ready to make the move. I have made myself an environment that makes me feel secure and happy. I have a sense of belonging here. It’s dead quiet here at night and there is no ambient light. I very rarely entertain, except when guests come to stay (and that’s not often).

Dr. S. approves of my isolation. She understands me completely. Besides, how can wanting to do what makes me happiest and makes me feel good be wrong? She said, “Of course it’s okay. It’s good for you! Your condition makes solitude the most comfortable way to live.” She knows I love having my best friends come to visit, and I love Zooming with friends. Being connected is still vital. I’m not without meaningful relations with my buddies.

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Today will begin with a spa, lots of watering of the garden beds, and a walk with Her Highness. I was awakened by the pets at 4:00 this morning, so there will be a nap in dappled sunshine, and I’ll likely wash and clean the inside of the car. It’s long overdue.

These ferns grow up to my shoulder. I love them. They are native.

This is half on my herb garden. The other half is
 undergoing a make-over.

I'm going to get another bumper year of raspberries. And somehow
I'm going to have to get rid of the potatoes growing there.
They were miraculously conceived. I have no idea where they came from.

I wanted to hide the shed. The studio is attractive. The shed is a shed.
Darrel built the trellis and I bought the fountain. My plan worked.

This was a twig in the ground. They didn't know what it was
at the nurssery. so Clarence gave it to me. It's now a meter tall
and it grows lots of beautiful blossoms each year now.

That dark space of the house is the cattery. It lets Fred and
Ethel go outside and it's where I have the litter bod.

 CLEAN!

 I love this speckled walkway under the Lobelia tree. It's blossoms
are falling off and it looks so pretty on the path.

 I see these beauties every day. This one landed on the Fuchsia 
on my back deck. A beauty, eh?!

This is my new srawberry planter made from a plastic gutter. No slugs!

There are scattered patches of Wild Rose all over the island. They are looking
resplendent right now, along with the bright yesllow Scotch Broom.

I have lots of Wild Strawberries in one part of the yard.

Nany Italian Plumb. This is the first year of any fruit
on this new little tree. I'm overjoyed.