the quiet revolution

If you've been reading this for a while you will have seen blogging about gardening. This has been a year I let things get away from me, starting in early summer when we were putting together the David show. I have three gardens, more or less, all small, but quite different.

The largest is the back yard at the house. This is the least public, so I feel very little pressure to keep on top of it, but it's also the most heartfelt (if you garden, you know what I mean). The two main issues are goutweed and bindweed. I don't know what the hell I'm going to do about these two, but I've clearly reached an age where I can't keep up with them. This is both a matter of physical pain (I was diagnosed with rheumatism) and emotional incapacity (I think this is where I maybe experience some of the executive dysfunction people with real ADHD know). My gardening friend Mark suggested letting the goutweed do as it will and just grow things that can go right through it. Which is actually not a bad plan, the only things back in the affected zone are things like lilies and raspberries, which won't be bothered by it anyway. I'm about done collecting dozens of irises ... I love them but this climate is not that great for them, they universally develop a leaf rot late in the season and look like hell until the spring. On the other side of the yard is a bed that I planted to perennials. They cannot tolerate the goutweed - or the bindweed - that are now inextricably intertwined with everything. I'm inclined to dig it all up and cardboard + mulch it, just kill off everything that's in there and start from scratch.

The second is the little patch in the front of the house. It's actually the least trouble. The only issue there is that whoever initially painted our house purple decided to make a purple garden, and that included a purple-leaved cherry, which blocks most of whatever light that patch gets. But that's tolerable. Lots of ferns, Aquilegia, etc. make it fairly easy to look after.

The third garden is the island in the middle of the street down by the park. That one, despite it's troubles (horsetail throughout; there is no easy way to water it; and because it's public, people sometimes trample or drive over it) is the easiest to look after. Mainly, I find, because it's something I feel like I'm doing *with* the neighbours, who often stop to chat or comment. Even when I really really don't feel like working on it (the glaring light and heat of August is the worst) that gets me motivated. It's a bit patch and quirky but I don't think anyone would prefer beds of petunias. Or if they would they know better than to say so :)

The "more or less" is that we guerilla plant a bunch of spring blooming bulbs in the park. But that's just a matter of putting them in in the fall, and then weeding out the dandelions in the psring (if there are too many dandelion flowers, Karen will complain to the city, who will just mow it flat).

The show opening was remarkably well attended for a rainy cold weekend afternoon. As usual I found it completely alienating ... too many people talking too loud, and I knew none of them and they all knew each other. Lol. When I was 30 this was all very intimidating, now it just seems normal. I did have a few quiet conversations with people off to the side, mostly women my age, as usual. I don't think anyone sold anything but that's common for an event like this - people were hardly looking at the art anyway, it's a socializing opportunity, and this gallery does not attract the kind of clientele who like to conspicuously spend to impress their friends. There were dogs and babies and a lovely violinist who played her own compositions, avant-garde but not strident. I spent yesterday regenerating.