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Uncommon Magic
Sep. 2nd, 2006 08:42 pmToday was on the schedule as 'move furniture'. Bob and I have been shifting and discussing all day, with the odd bit of cleaning under something that won't see the light of day for some time. Right now the house is intensely chaotic, but the bones are in place. This is really very exciting for me-- it's a home. Not a house, but a many-rooms-of-neat-stuff-and-nooks-here-and-there, guest-bedroom, rat-room, pictures-on-the-walls, how-shall-we-lay-out-the-livingroom, damn-we-own-two-strainers, should-we-take-out-that-window home. Once things are in place, and it's very close now, I can do the first cleaning in the new layout. I'm so happy.
I'm doubly (or triply, or quadruply) happy because we walked through Strathcona *and* Cottonwood community gardens this evening. Actually, what happened was this: Bob is walking me in the direction of Cottonwood, and I dart to the side of the road. "That's an apple orchard. It's a friggin'... there's comfrey... it's a forest garden! Bob, this is a FOREST GARDEN! In VANCOUVER! (from here on I speak in all caps) BOB, THIS IS LIKE GREGOIRE'S GARDEN. LIKE THE PERMACULTURE... THIS IS A PERFECT ZONE TWO! APPLE PEARS! NO ONE'S PICKING THESE! THE COMFREY AND THE TANSY ARE PART OF THE GUILDS... AND THE WOODCHIPS... OOOH, A WASP'S NEST, THAT'S WHY.... etc, etc.
So, yeah. Both of these gardens are absolutely amazing. I'm not sure how to convey this here, I'm torn between a quiet awed post and random incoherent swearing. I'm acquainted with wonder, and with love, and with joy, and these gardens have me full at the seams on all three. I can't possibly tell you how beautiful or wonderful this neighborhood is. It's paradise; it's heaven on earth. There's eleganus and apples and pears and wildland with blackberries and intensive gardens and the first wild rats I've ever seen and old gardens buried under the verge of the road and chars and raspberries and zucchini and little windy paths and old grape arbours that are overgrown and a defunct greywater system and children playing in the parks and people sitting outside the corner store drinking coffee in the mornings and busses that go by conveniently to everywhere except my mom's house. My home has two cats and my rats and my stuff laid out in a thoughtful way and it's an equal share mine-- the public areas have a consensus-decided layout and are as much mine as they are his, and it has light for plants and a computer nook and, of course, it has a person to share it with who I love. And this is uncommon magic, all of it together, it's a sense of properness and rightness that is just how I want my world to be.
There's music playing in the livingroom, and a light in the front hall. I can deal with being broke and with having a weird schedule if I can come home to this every night.
I'm doubly (or triply, or quadruply) happy because we walked through Strathcona *and* Cottonwood community gardens this evening. Actually, what happened was this: Bob is walking me in the direction of Cottonwood, and I dart to the side of the road. "That's an apple orchard. It's a friggin'... there's comfrey... it's a forest garden! Bob, this is a FOREST GARDEN! In VANCOUVER! (from here on I speak in all caps) BOB, THIS IS LIKE GREGOIRE'S GARDEN. LIKE THE PERMACULTURE... THIS IS A PERFECT ZONE TWO! APPLE PEARS! NO ONE'S PICKING THESE! THE COMFREY AND THE TANSY ARE PART OF THE GUILDS... AND THE WOODCHIPS... OOOH, A WASP'S NEST, THAT'S WHY.... etc, etc.
So, yeah. Both of these gardens are absolutely amazing. I'm not sure how to convey this here, I'm torn between a quiet awed post and random incoherent swearing. I'm acquainted with wonder, and with love, and with joy, and these gardens have me full at the seams on all three. I can't possibly tell you how beautiful or wonderful this neighborhood is. It's paradise; it's heaven on earth. There's eleganus and apples and pears and wildland with blackberries and intensive gardens and the first wild rats I've ever seen and old gardens buried under the verge of the road and chars and raspberries and zucchini and little windy paths and old grape arbours that are overgrown and a defunct greywater system and children playing in the parks and people sitting outside the corner store drinking coffee in the mornings and busses that go by conveniently to everywhere except my mom's house. My home has two cats and my rats and my stuff laid out in a thoughtful way and it's an equal share mine-- the public areas have a consensus-decided layout and are as much mine as they are his, and it has light for plants and a computer nook and, of course, it has a person to share it with who I love. And this is uncommon magic, all of it together, it's a sense of properness and rightness that is just how I want my world to be.
There's music playing in the livingroom, and a light in the front hall. I can deal with being broke and with having a weird schedule if I can come home to this every night.
