domicile

My hero and his blow dryer

  My hero and his blow dryer 
  Originally uploaded by emira.

I had heard a lot of things about Armstrong Vinyl tiles before we installed them. Most everyone I spoke to who knew anything about them warned me that, while they are a pretty easy type of flooring to install (true) they are easily screwed up if your not careful. Specifically one must be very sure that you've got the tiles in the right side up before you put the glue down. If you don't look carefully I can see how you can mistake the top from the bottom of the tile and in the chaos of renos it would indeed be very easy to get a few in upside down. "But don't worry," folks told me, "they're pretty easy to pull up." With this bit of advice we were pretty sure we'd avoid any need to pull up tiles by simply paying very close attention. I say we, but really here I mean Martin as the floors were resolutely on his task list during this reno. And he did a great job. A fantastic job. He got all covered in glue and his back hurt each night when he was done, but really he did a fantastic job and didn't screw up anywhere. Sure there a few less than perfect joins back there behind the stove, but with a one tonne stove who is ever going to know but the cat, and really he doesn't mind.

I'll admit, we were pretty smug with the floor installation. No tiles in upside down and exactly two spare red tiles thanks to our ingenious idea to put in black/neutral ones under where the cupboards would be installed. Could things get any better? Turns out yes.

Sunday evening we were all set to go pick Miss P up from a friends place, where she had wisely been escaping the reno all afternoon. With 20 minutes left before we had to leave we decided to move in a few pieces of the Ikea cabinet boxes I had put together earlier in the day to see how things were shaping up. These were cabinet pieces to go over the black floor tiles against the one main wall. We popped on the legs and carefully moved them into the room, watching to make sure we didn't scratch the floor. And what do you know but the black showed out from under the cabinet. AWESOME!

You see, while the measurement of a 25" deep base cabinet is totally correct, meaning that the calculation of two 12" square floor tiles below would be adequately covered by the cabinets is totally correct, if you plan on only ever looking at your kitchen from an aerial view. If you plan on actually approaching your kitchen from a normal human perspective you will see a 2" line of black tiles poking out from under the recess where the toe kicks are below the cabinets. OF COURSE!

With roughly 2 minutes left until we had to go get Miss P and meet a dinner reservation for what was now our gabillionth meal out, I calmly told Martin that I was really "not ok and was probably going to start to cry." He tried courageously to convince me that really it looked fine, but I was having none of it. I knew deep down in my overly priviledged home owning soul that I could not live happily with a 2" strip of black poking out from under one of my walls of cupboards.

I should step back for a moment to try to explain to you just how nasty our old floors were. They were, as we discovered original flooring, dating them at roughly 65 years of age. For 65 years in a high traffic area of a pretty small house they looked awesome. For floors that you wanted to actually appear to look clean after you got down on your hands and knees to scrub them they looked like crap. And, while I may not be the cleaning whiz my mother is, I do like a clean floor. Especially in places like the kitchen, and these floors were just never coming clean. And so it was that one of the primary motivators in our kitchen reno (for me anyway) was really replacing the floor. Perhaps now you'll see why I wasn't so keen on the black line. Perhaps you don't, but trust me at 5:58pm on Sunday evening I felt deeply defeated.

It's amazing how someone you're so close to can sometimes surprise you. Martin often describes his handy skills as "a bit guerrilla" and he's right. He is an absolute visionary who gets determined to execute something and he will often sacrifice detail if it gets in the way of the speedy execution of his vision. Because he builds so many beautiful things for us and our home, I can't really complain about this. Lord knows I'm not going to teach myself to build a dresser or bedframe and if he cuts a few corners in the process, who am I to complain? However, knowing Martin's disposition I assumed he wasn't really going to work with me on my resolute rejection of the black floor peep show. I was wrong.

He asked me to go downstairs and get the blowdryer he uses for tool/handyman type things (for those of you who don't know Martin is a hairdresser so we have no shortage of awesome blowdryers in the house) and he set about heating and peeling up a tile. Fortunately, all the stories about mislaid tiles meant I had heard in fairly intimate detail what the best approach to removing tiles would be. We called Miss P's friend to say were were running a few minutes late and before dinner we pulled out one tile. I had hope.

Now, however, you will recall we had exactly 2 12"x12" tiles left. We needed to pull up and replace 9 tiles due to the 3" overlap problem. When we got home from dinner Martin decided to try scoring the remaining black tiles 3" from the edge and heating and removing only that portion. It worked. He then very carefully cut our two remaining tiles into 4 3" strips and with a bit of shaving and jigsaw puzzling we managed to re-lay all 8 of those pieces. The ninth piece ended up as a hodge podge of tile scraps but that will be almost totally covered by the cupboards. And, while I would love for it to be "more perfect" each time I get down on my hands and knees to really scrub that floor I will remember the way that Martin made absolutely no fuss about getting down there with his blow dryer and fixing that floor for me. For I know that he would indeed have been totally fine with it as it was.

Do We Need to Evacuate the Building?

  the stove, the wrench 
  Originally uploaded by emira.

So where were we? Oh yes, smack dab in the middle of a classic case of renovation hubris. It was Saturday, I had paint on the walls and I could see things unfolding before me beautifully. And, boy was I wrong.

Saturday's set back was not a minor one. I did spend the day painting and prepping walls and then when Martin came home from work we set about moving the appliances back in place. After replacing the stove back to its original position, and rehooking up the gas line from the oven to the main line, we discovered a small gas leak. Though of course it didn't really happen like that. It happened more like this:

We replaced the line using teflon tape and this crazy gas line sealing gunk on each joint just as the friendly fella at Rona showed me the other night. There was mild panic as we had to make a few attempts at lighting the pilot light, but then all seemed fine. We had a gas flame on our stove and I tried to tell myself that was great.Still, I was nervous that something had been dislodged during the whole unattaching process, as it required a lot of twisting and wrenching to take apart in the first place, and those are some old pipes and bolts we've got there. So, to assuage my nerves I ran the gas monitor a few times, the levels were slightly higher than usual, but I reasoned this was from the whole taking a while to light the pilot light scenario. Still, I wasn't satisfied, so I put some soapy water on the joints to check for the bubbles that a leak would indicate. We went about putting furniture back in its proper spots and cleaning up when Miss P came in the room and announced that the kitchen stunk. Both Martin and I turned around. "Really? Stinks like what?" he asked. "Farts," she replied. We both ran over to the gas line. We couldn't see any bubbles but there was a gas smell that was for sure and a sinister hissing was coming from the pipe. As we tried to assess where the leak was coming from (and hoping to all the gods in the pantheon that it was above the shut off valve) Miss P stood behind us repeating: "Do we need to evacuate the building?" like some kind of over eager safety parrot. For the record, this is not a helpful question to be asked aloud as your internal monologue is desperately trying to assess the relative danger of your gas line situation. Two minutes, and 15 "Do we need to evacuate.." later there was a large soap bubble coming off the back of the pipe. We shut off the gas at the valve (for fortunately it was coming from above the shut off) and resigned ourselves to another few days of no coffee in the mornings. I'm very proud of myself for not crying at that point.

We weren't going to pay emergency rates for someone to come fix it on Sunday so we called Monday morning and a lovely fellow came to the house while Martin was here, but he didn't have the right pieces, so he had to reschedule for today.

As I type this that same lovely gas line fellow is here putting a new coded valve on our pipe and reattaching our stove. If all goes well (I can not possibly tell you how superstitious I am about this), we will be able to have coffee at home tomorrow morning and possibly even a home cooked meal this evening (though we'll still be washing our dishes in the bathtub). If that is the case, then I will be the happiest shopper in the food coop this evening, even if I am exhausted.

Sunday brought its own set of problems and delays and they have continued since. I promise to share the delight here as it involves Martin coming to my heroic rescue, but for now I must pay the gas man.

PS: The gas fellow just left and we seem to be in the clear. I feel like cheering from the rooftops. I also feel like a nap. I think I'll settle for a trip to the grocery store to fortify me for tonights attempt at plumbing. Wish us luck!

Watching Paint Dry

  On goes the paint 
  Originally uploaded by emira.

After our Thursday night of less than happy couple time renovations, last night was perhaps a welcome split shift renovation evening. I come home from work and sanded all the drywall patches, cleaned up from that (man I hate drywall dust) and managed to get a coat of paint on the wall behind the stove/fridge before heading out to dinner. I then spent the rest of the evening in fabulous company eating a beautiful home cooked meal. I was in heaven.

Martin, who worked later than me, then came in for the second shift and managed to lay the very last square of floor tile as I rolled in the door from my dinner. Perfect timing.

The floor looks fantastic. Where you can see the bits of it not covered by drop clothes, paint cans, drywall mud and boxes of tools that is. But really, it looks awesome. It's a nice deep red colour, strong but not overwhelming and it looks nice against the wood floors it adjoins in the office and livingroom.

The walls are a slightly different story. They're a lot greener than blue -- I wanted a greenish blue -- and that lead me to a minor freakout as I envisioned a Christmas green and red kitchen. We also have particularly bad luck with greens in this house so I was a bit panicked as the first few strokes went on the wall. I decided to complete a full wall and then paint a few other spots around the room so I could wake up this morning and judge the colour in different lights. I'm most relieved to say that I actually really like it. And once we put in our white cupboards with wood counters I think it will look really lovely. Airy and warm and in kind of retro tones that fit the era of the house.

Now I've managed to paint one half of the kitchen this morning and am just waiting for it to dry so I can do a second coat. The other half needs further wall repair and sanding (from ripping out cupboards) and is a bit hard to get to with the one tonne stove and fridge pushed against the walls. If all goes well by tonight we'll have that wall prepped for paint tomorrow and the rest of the kitchen painted (save trim which I haven't really started to think about yet to be honest). Miss P will be arriving this afternoon as well and I'm hoping that tomorrow I can talk her into becoming an Ikea cabinet building helper. The dream of all dreams would be if we could also get the countertop and therefore the kitchen sink installed this weekend, but I'm not getting too set on that. At this point I'd happily wash dishes in the tub if we could make a cup of coffee and heat up a bowl of soup in the kitchen.

(Day) Four on the Floor

  New floor half laid 
  Originally uploaded by emira.

Thursday - Day Four:

Lest you become misguided by the high points and start to believe that home renovation is a fun new hobby that will bring couples closer together, let me share with you last night's renovation funtimes.

As we began work at 7pm last night, the remaining tasks on our renovation list  included:

- Prep and paint all the walls
- Lay the new floor
- Build all the cabinets/cupboards
- Install all the cabinets/cupboards
- Build a new kitchen table and built in bench
- Dance with delight

Even the most amateur of renovators will see the folly in a list like this one. A list that entirely fails to mention things like: pry off weird old gate attachment inexplicably painted onto wood door frame, then repair resulting holes; or unhook ancient gas line from one tonne ancient stove and move stove to "more convenient place" for the purpose of laying floor underneath. A list like that is also dangerous in that it assumes an order in which one would do things, and sometimes even the loveliest of couples disagree on that order. Shocking but true.

Last night was a night filled with disagreement and small tasks that stood in the way of big tasks cropping up all over the damn place. You see, in our house we have some roles we each play: I cook, Martin does dishes; I deal with paperwork and finances, Martin mows the lawn; Martin drywalls and lays floors, I paint. And on it goes. As the primary house painter it is obvious to me that painting the walls before you redo the floor is optimal. If you're going to redo the floor anyway, who cares if it's covered in paint splatters right? Right. As the person who lays the floor and is conscious of the fact that until the floor is laid there will be no rehooking of the stove (required for morning coffee among other things) or installation of the cupboards or reinstallation of the sink for that matter, it seems quite obvious to Martin that rooms get painted all the time with their final floors installed. And, he's right. But so am I. And honestly, the night would probably have progressed a lot better if we could have both admitted that. But we didn't. And he won. And I started putting primer on the hot pink wall so that we can paint it can become light blue, and then Martin went to undo the gas line on the stove to move it out of my way, which was rather nice of him.

Undoing gas lines is not an easy thing on the nerves. Especially if you're a nervous person who envisions all worst case scenarios immediately. And I am. But, the shut-off valve worked as it should and the stove no longer lit. Good. And Martin grabbed a wrench and started to undo the bolts on the pipe connecting the stove to the main gas line. Bolts that have almost certainly not been undone since the stove was installed 65 years ago (something we can almost certainly verify as it seems every single element of this kitchen is as it was first installed in 1940). And guess what? They didn't come off easily. And trying to literally wrench apart the various tubes and things that attach your gas line, keeping all that gassy goodness inside the line and not inside your lungs: not so easy on the nerves. Many conversations about hiring a pipe fitter to do it for us were had (inside my head) and eventually after many different wrenches were tried he succeeded. We were however left with a very mangled connecting pipe. And it was now 8:15 and we had accomplished the following:

1 argument about what order to continue the renovation in
1 gas hookup removed
1 coat of primer around 1 light switch on 1 wall

Awesome!

I left Martin to finally start installing the floor, which he had clearly been aching to do since he first stepped in the door and set off for the hardware store to get a new connector pipe. As we know from previous trips to the hardware store, often replacing parts from a 1940s house are not particularly straightforward. Nevertheless, I marched into the pipes and plumbing isle (where gas stove connectors live) holding my manky, sticky, dirty old pipe out proudly in front of me. I stopped the first guy I could find near the isle and asked him to help me find a new one. Now here's where an already long story could go on forever, so I'll cut it short. The bolts on my stove connector are no longer the standard size. The new standard size is 5/8" ours are 1". After much rummaging and measuring and eyeballing of parts a specialist was called back from his break and after what felt like forever we cobbled together the bits I needed. I was then given a very charming lesson in the use of teflon tape and low-fi ways to check for a gas leak (put soapy water on the joints and see if it bubbles) I ran down to the electrical aisle and bought a natural gas meter just for good measure.

Arriving back home, Martin was well on his way to installing the floor and after hooking up our new and lovely gas monitor I got to the task of priming the hot pink wall. When we were done, it was after 10pm. After 10pm and we no longer had a stove to heat food, leaving us with the options of cereal, toast (if we made it in the livingroom) or Martin's suggestion of going out to find nachos. It seems that renovations leave you in a mood for pub food. We found some nachos, ate them in record time and came home where I went straight to bed. And, as I type that last sentence I'm pretty sure I know now why I had weird dreams last night.

Tonight: I'm sanding the walls where drywall repairs have been done and then headed to a friends house for what will be a most deeply appreciated home cooked meal. Martin is going to attempt to finish the other half of the floor. Nothing like a Friday night!

It should be a fun weekend.

Playing catch up

Mr. Pluto assesses the new plumbing and lack of a floor
Originally uploaded by emira.

Turns out trying to renovate your kitchen and work full time leaves little room for blog documentation. I'll try to bring you up to speed. Starting with Wednesday night in this post and Thursday in another.

Wednesday - Day 3:

After our plumbing set back Tuesday night, Wednesday was the kind of day renovators dream of. Martin's pal, the very awesome plumber, was available on record short notice and was able to come by that evening to sort out our soldered together plumbing situation. He had to cut some large holes in the wall, but he ended up giving us even more plumbing than we bargained for in the mix. So: no complaining. For those who care about plumbing details, he cut off our drain pipe way back to the main line and replaced it which was a much needed job as the old pipe had been reduced to the effectiveness of a bendy straw what with all the sludge piled up inside it. He also ran a snake down through the main pipe (boy did that produce yummy results!). And, in a move that can only be described as charming my anal-detail oriented self to pieces, he relocated the drain pipe so that we are able to make maximum use of the under the sink storage once we've installed everything again. Dreamy, non?

After a job well done, we sat on the porch for a slightly too chilly visit and beer to talk under the stair wine cellars with him and toasted our success.

Invigorated by our progress we then tackled the slightly bizarre issue arising out of the complete lack of subfloor that was revealed when we finished removing the base cabinets. Complete lack of subfloor. The "what's behind the cupboards?" question had been a bit of an x-factor in the whole reno job. We knew that whatever was there would need to somehow be made level with the rest of the kitchen floor so we could lay our new flooring and create an even surface for the new cupboards, and frankly we just expected to find a version of the rest of the floor under there in either pristine condition or totally torn up through the process of the cupboard removal. But we were wrong. Which was fine really as we had all kinds of plans set up to MacGuyver a level surface including some truly hideous peel and stick tiles we bought (and will now return) to try to bring things level by 1/8" increments. Instead we used pieces of discarded and only slightly mangled wood from the old cabinets topped off with some scrap 1/4" plywood we had from our bathroom subfloor. Huzzah!

After all that productivity we went out for trashy renovating pub food and a beer. It was a good night.

Kitchen Reno: Day #2, Setback #1

The Scenario: Last night 7:30pm following a trip to the hardware store and a frantic post work dinner preparation geared at using as few dishes/pots/utensils as possible so as to reduce the number of dishes that would require washing. I race around to get the last of the items still contained in the kitchen base cabinets into their new homes tucked into random shelves and under tables around the livingroom and office. At one point, during dinner preparation, it took me 10 minutes to find the nutritional yeast before I remembered that I had decided to store it in the fridge during the reno. Of course.

The Action: Martin, crowbar and hammer in hand pries the cupboard doors off the cabinets. I take them down stairs, through the basement and out to the backyard to join their siblings the former wall cabinet pieces. We are making good time. I return upstairs to find Martin, flashlight between his teeth (ok actually a bike light, their more compact and those LEDs are darn glowy) under the sink, wrench in hand. My personal moment of "no return" is upon us, we are about to lose plumbing in our kitchen. When we did our bathroom reno, it was the plumbing that complicated the process. When you live in a 1940s house that had nary a renovation or upgrade aside from the installation of wall to wall brown carpet sometime in what appears to have been the early 70s, you should expect the plumbing part of any reno to complicate the process. Or so I'm learning. You know where this is going.

Martin handily disconnected the sink from its drain pipes and those were put in a bag to be used for the new sink. At some point someone did upgrade those pieces as they're black PVC pipes. Now, to tackle the water pipes. He turns off the valves and crawls back under, bike light in his mouth. I'm in the livingroom trying to keep the cat out of the cutlery drawer which now lives on the bookshelf. Through the mumbles of a man with a bike light in his mouth I hear: "We need a plumber." My heart sinks. Even though I was expecting this. I immediately look for the silver lining and ask "What's that?". I hear the bike light come out of his mouth and a clearer "We are going to need a plumber" rings out from under the kitchen sink. I surprise myself by actually feeling hopeful, afterall it was a stated fact and not the urgent voice of someone who was about to be knee deep in the water of a plumbing disaster. I bravely enter the kitchen and crouch down to his level to peer under the sink to assess the situation.

The Diagnosis: Aside from the one trap joint that was replaced with PVC at some point the entire plumbing system has been soldered together. There are no joints to wrench. No nuts to tighten. Only pipes to be cut and refitted. This goes well beyond the scope of my sassy home how-to book with Rosie the Riveter on the cover. It also goes well beyond our set of tools or Martin's knowledge of basic plumbing.

And so, this evening, Martin's pal the plumber is coming to see what he can do. Hopefully what needs doing is minor. Maybe it can even be done today, then we can carry on with our demolition and get to the business of rebuilding. Until then, I'm trying to remain grateful that so far, things are staying dry.

Cookbook Inspiration

With all the time and energy I'm spending in the kitchen (or in hardware stores thinking about the kitchen) with this renovation, I'm finding myself craving new cooking horizons. At this point, day 2 of our reno project I'm seeing this as a classic case of wanting that which is not in reach. Tonight we disconnect the sink and that means reheated soup and beans on toast for dinner for the foreseeable future. But the dull culinary realities of my short term future are doing nothing to dampen my gourmet day dreams. Trouble is, I've found myself of late itching for a new cookbook that can really make its mark on our menus.

There have been cookbooks like this in the past -- the first How It All Vegan, the ReBar Cookbook and Rose Elliot's New Vegetarian Cooking to name a few -- that have really muscled into my repertoire and influenced me both directly in terms of new recipes as well as generally inspiring use of new ingredients and approaches to food. I've been on the lookout for just such a new cookbook for a while now, but I'm currently fairly fixated. I've taken a few out of the library recently, but not been impressed enough to do more than jot down one recipe and move on. Then this morning on the way to work I remembered that Heidi Swanson's Super Natural Cooking was set to come out sometime around now and a quick web search revealed that it is indeed now available. I have a hunch this just might be the book I'm looking for as I have used a few of Heidi's recipes posted online over the years and loved each one. Besides if her photography can't inspire my cooking to new directions, I'm not sure what else can.

Has anyone else got their hands on a copy and do you have any thoughts? I'd love to know what others think.

Now back to the business of the evening. After one last meal with working plumbing in the kitchen (roasted veggie quesadillas with basil/lemon and fontina) we're set to finish the destruction and begin repairing the walls and floors for new paint and flooring. Bring on the dust masks it's a kitchen party!

And So It Has Begun

  Before 
  Originally uploaded by emira.

With both excitement and dread, we have finally begun our much discussed kitchen reno. I'm not sure if it's because I'm in the middle of project managing a bit project at work, or if it is simply in my nature, by I can't help but think of this entire project as one big puzzle to be managed. I may go so far as to set things up in a project management tool, though I'm not sure how well Martin will adhere to my system of milestones and task lists. Regardless. We are on our way.

At this point more than half the kitchen is boxed up or living in nooks around our house. Every spare shelf in the office and livingroom now houses coffee mugs, souffle dishes and dutch ovens. My sister took away the wooden island/cart thing-a-ma-bob that used to house all our cookbooks and and spices leaving one wall bare and ready for new cupboards to be built and installed. Tonight Martin pulled the high shelves off the other wall and those now sit in a pile of nails and cracked wood in the backyard. I have cobbled together a kind of triage kitchen that currently lives on the baker's rack you see there (though that is a before photo, it now contains only essentials). And, for the next while we will be trying to eat our way through the freezer and pantry in an attempt to make use of what we've got and try to minimize prep time and dishes.

Most times that I mention that we're redoing our kitchen people respond by asking "Yourself?" with a kind of horror in their voice. That hasn't helped to assuage my renovator's dread. That said, last night I dreamt that the old cupboards just fell off like petals and that everything went as smooth as silk. Maybe it was a premonition. We'll see.

For me the point of no return will be when we take out the main cupboard with the sink in it. At that point we'll be house-camping: ferrying dishes and coffee pots to the bathtub and back. I can handle that for a while. Probably even a few weeks, but not much longer than that. And, while I may not be a pro, I've now done enough renos to know that things never take quite the time you plan. That said, perhaps my healthy dose of scepticism has prepared me well.

Overall, the plan is to get a fair bit done this week in the evenings so that we can spend more concentrated time on the weekend finishing things up. If you could see my mental timeline, it's not totally unlikely that we'll spend a good 5 days or so without water in the kitchen but that come the end of the weekend we should be back to some kind semblence of normal. Fingers crossed.

Some paper, a pen and a hand cramp

Sometime last week Felicia Sullivan launched a fantastic project to find and match pen pals in her individual crusade to bring back the fine art of letter writing. I'll admit I'm sorely tempted to jump into the fray but know that I couldn't really participate properly due to other constraints on my time like the looming lack of a kitchen in my home, to be restored by my own blood, sweat and tears; and then there's that pesky project to finish my own writing project, aka finish co-authoring a book. Were it not for those kinds of life intrusions I'd be all over this.

The idea of getting off email and digital communication and back to the analog way of life is compelling for oh so many reasons. Primary among them my love of gorgeous paper and stationery. A friend gave me the Jill Bliss Mix & Match Stationery set for my birthday last fall and I finally had a chance/the time to pull it out and make use of it this week. I felt like a 10 year old on the first day of school. The kind of ten year old who gets very excited about the prospect of fresh new books, untouched pages and brand new writing implements, that is. It was so much fun picking combinations of pages and envelopes, and for a change actually having to slow my thoughts down so they could catch up with my cramping hand. I think that's really the other driving force that compells me toward some form of "unplugged" writing: the fact that I've reached a point where my body is really a physically honed machine better at typing as fast as my thoughts can carry me than it is at taking the time to roll ideas around in my head for a while. Plus, that whole hand cramp thing? It's for real. It hurts. And, it kind of freaks me out. If I attempt anything longer than a grocery list I start to feel actual pain in my hands. And, that, frankly is a bit bizarre, no?

Anyway, if I urge you if you've got the time and inspiration to join in with Felicia's crew. It's bound to be a wonderful ride filled with pretty papers and new friends. And who can ask for more?

Our New Beds

  A new bed. 
  Originally uploaded by emira.

About two weeks ago now we moved the new bedroom furniture that Martin built into our room to much personal fanfare and delight. We went from a room in which every inch of wallspace that wasn't a door had a piece of furniture on it to a room with really only three pieces of furniture in it: a bed with built in floating bedside tables, a long low dresser and a chair. Oh and a mirror. And a laundry hamper. But trust me that's way less than what was crammed in there before. I'm borrowing the very generous Miss P's camera for the week so as soon as I'm home in decent light and manage to actually make the bed I'll share some photos. It is lovely.

Not satisfied with a mere interior improvement I also asked Martin to expand my garden bed space this weekend giving me in effect a new bed by expanding an existing bed to the other side of our fence. This new bed gets south east exposure and serves many awesome purposes:

1. It means I no longer need to try to weed underneath the fence in behind my herb garden, which is a major bonus as that was a tricky area to get to.
2. It makes mowing the lawn up to the edge of the fence a non issue as the lawn no longer comes up to the edge of the fence.
3. It provides me with a new spot to do some kind of dramatic garden design. By that I really just mean planting some bright colours next to our charcoal fence, which given that the bed is visible from the front, back and side of the house (which is next to a sidewalk that folks pass by all the time) makes me happy.

My grand plan for this bed is to have some forsythia growing there for early spring blooms (I love the thought of those tall branches covered in bright yellow flowers against the dark grey) and an ornamental quince for a dash of bright pink. In the summer I grow giant sunflowers on the other side of the fence in amongst the herbs and I may just try my hand at some sweetpeas to trail up the fence as well, but that may need to wait until next year.

At the moment my grand plans are somewhat on hold, or I should say in progress. This past weekend I got some excellent cuttings of two types of quince, forsythia and a white magnolia tree from Martin's mom. Each is a fairly small cutting and will take a few years to produce the drama I'm envisioning, but hey free plants that will help Martin's mom's garden live on after she moves out of her current house are nothing to complain about. Also, I'm imagining I'll need to use this bed as a bit of a nursery or "guest room" for some of my other plants this summer when we finally start a project to redo the lower half of the house's siding. I've got plants growing up against two sides of the house and there are some that are more delicate than others that I'll want to temporarily house elsewhere to make sure they don't fall victim to falling siding at any point. It's hard keeping that bed mostly empty in the meantime though I tell ya. I'm itching to fill it with something. Perhaps I'll see if I can't just stick a few quick veggie crops in there some radishes perhaps.