Sunday Substack, Summer-wise 25.3

Sketching my Neighbourhood; Enjoying the Garden; A Bit of Book Talk; Summer visitors; and a Mended, Much-loved Shirt modeled by the house cook. . .

It’s been a busy week in which I nonetheless managed to spend a few minutes here and there sketching in my journal. This magical Rain Garden (which follows the path of a stream covered over during colonization/urbanization, late 19th century) is nearing completion in my neighbourhood after a year or so of infrastructure work. Not only is the Saint George Rainway aesthetically satisfying, but it’s also a testament to community activism as well as a hopeful way to build ecosystem resilience to climate change. All vegetation and soils and topography, the systems of water direction and retention, have been carefully considered to slow the flow of water down the hill, in such a way that pollutants are filtered through the soil before they reach the inlet (and thus the ocean).

Visit this link to see a 30-second video of the garden doing what it’s designed for during last Fall’s “atmospheric river” event. And you can find out more about the ambitious project here and a bit more here about the community involvement, the longer history of imagining and envisioning ways to “daylight” the creek known as te Statlew in the language of the Musqueam, one of the local First Nations.

I’ve been including it in an after-dinner walk a few times a week, such a delight to see which plants are coming into flower, which are producing sketchable seedheads, what neighbours are gathering to chat or catch their breath on some of the concrete platforms thoughtfully integrated to offer just such community-building invitations.

As for me, I was testing out some Garden-Sketching Shortcuts suggested in Lucia Leyfield’s latest workshop. . . A nurturing way to spend 20 minutes while Paul continued to the park with the visiting dog — surprising how quickly 20 minutes passes when sketching in such a pleasant spot, absorbed in observing and mark-making, the sounds of a summer evening on the periphery of consciousness, the rosy-tinged rays of sun fading gently into dusk. . . So much so that he could sneak up on me with his camera. . .

Summer Guests

The afore-mentioned dog arrived first, so we had a few days to establish a routine (3 walks daily, feeding 2x, comings and goings in the condo for him to remember and to re-establish favourite spots - some for company, some for solitude, some for shade, some for proximity to a view. . .

And then the Seven arrived, and the schedule needed some fine-tuning, but happily the two guests were glad of each other’s company (although the Seven was less amenable to “all the walking” than the dog was). . .

Confession: This Nana is very resistant to “screen-time” on her turf, but negotiations had taken place in advance of the visit, so she did her best to honour boundaries . . . Concessions were made, among them sharing of Big Screen Time (feels much more acceptable to me because more social and easier for Old Folk to discern quality). So he and I watched Ratatouille quite happily (first rewatch in many years for me, and first viewing for him); also Leo, which the three of us enjoyed more than two of us had expected.

I read a few books to him, of course (not quite time to pass along the big basketful of picture books yet, I’m relieved to say). And I introduced the potential fun of Bananagrams. Still at the rudimentary stage whereby we just get 21 tiles and see how many words we can make.

I try to keep it fun and to recognize phonetic spelling — sometimes, I might remark on how well that spelling works, and then add that the funny old English language usually renders that word a bit differently. But mostly the focus is on the fun of creating words from letters. He even built a little story with his: “Brrr, It Seems Im [sic] Cold.”

Eventually, we’d get ‘round to building a grid, but that’s a lot for a Seven (and this guy spells better, for now, in French than he does in English). Stop while you’re still having fun, is the general wisdom here. And try not to grit teeth when he goes back to his screen.

Instead, I took advantage to catch up on some . . .

Summer Reading

I’m juggling a few books, as always, and when I wanted some respite from reading in Italian or reading 19th-century English, I sunk into this satisfying novel recommended by someone over on my Instagram. As Christine_Cascadia commented here, “Erica Baumeister’s No Two Persons . . . [is] Funny, thoughtful, touching and very readable. The power of books in ways expected and unexpected!”

I concur. A sweet novel, easy to read, perfect for summer, with insightful passages and likeable characters although we only spend a limited time with each one — the novel is structured as a “short-story cycle.”

Two photos because I love the papercut cover art (which relates directly to one of the characters, protagonist of one of the chapters/short stories).

This book would read well with Michiko Aoyama’s What You Are Looking for Is in the Library which I wrote briefly about in this blogpost (scroll down; it’s #39).

Summer Mending (What He Wore)

And here’s my guy wearing the shirt I let you peek at a few weeks ago as an example of visible mending.

I thought of how contentedly he wears the mended shirt when I came across this passage in Natalia Ginzburg’s Lessico Famigliare last week.

First, the Italian — For Georgia, and those other Italophiles who might land here:

-Noi i soldi siamo buoni soltanto a spenderli, — diceva mia madre.

- Tu certo! diceva mio padre. Ma io non dirai certo che spendo troppo! Il vestito che porto, sono sette anni che ce l’ho!

- E infatti si vede Beppino! — diceva mia madre. È tutto consumato, tutto rapato! Dovresti fartene uno nuovo!

-Noi ci penso neanche! Figurati. Questo è ancora buonissimo. Guai a te se mi dici di farmi un vestito nuovo! (p. 163, I added the bold because this makes me chuckle and might become part of my own Family Lexicon! “Guai a te se . . . “)

My rough translation:

-We’re only good at spending money, my mother said [OR, since the verbs throughout these passage are in the imperfect tense, “my mother used to say”].

-You, certainly — said my father. — But I would certainly not say that I spend too much! The outfit/suit that I’m wearing I’ve had for seven years!

-And in fact, it shows, Beppino! said my mother. — It’s all worn, all threadbare! You should get yourself a new one!

-I’m not even thinking of it! Imagine! This is still very good. Woe betide you if you tell me to get myself a new suit/new clothes.

Not that I have yet heard Guai a te or “Woe betide you,” if I dare mention that some item of Pater’s wardrobe might need replacing, but he does like continuity in his dress and he definitely was an early adopter of the capsule wardrobe. . .

A man ahead of his time. Just waiting for my visible mending to come along ;-)

Finally, I have to share some of what’s going on just outside the door of our livingspace — on the rooftop terrace. . .

Summer Gardening

Paul couldn’t resist picking up an eggplant start at the nursery back in May. I was skeptical, not sure we could provide what they needed. (Or was it just that they seemed too exotic for our garden, too Mediterranean?). And then the plant didn’t do much in June’s weeks of rain, but finally there were a few blossoms and those were impressively purple, a healthy size, interesting shape. There were more blossoms, then more, but that seemed to be that, although we did occasionally see bees nearby. . .

And then I looked a few days ago and. . .

Garden Magic!

Look what Mama Nature’s doing, right outside our door!

Bravo, Paul! I’ve counted six so far, now just hoping they hang on and grow to pan size. . .

The cherry tomato plants are producing enough fruit to keep us in salads (and we have kale aplenty, and swiss chard thinnings. . . )

So much basil that we had to eat Linguini al pesto twice last week!

This Liberty apple tree is heavily laden enough that the gardener is trying to figure ways to prop the weighted branches so they don’t snap or sag. There are two more apple trees (Scarlet Sentinels) just facing this one, also burdened with fruit.

And today I ate the first two strawberries that have ripened in the summer’s Second! crop.

As for the non-edible planting. . .

This hosta is one we inherited from the former owners. It’s lush, abundant, overflowing . . . and I’ve been arguing the last few summers that it’s likely potbound and would probably appreciate some division.

Paul has resisted — he’s a big fan of its fullness, and didn’t want to risk diminishing it. I let him have his way last summer as I had the summer before, but this time ‘round I persisted. So that ast week, as it threw up spiky clusters of pale mauve blooms, against a still-lush base of foliage. . .

I was able to look over at the blooms on the “baby” that had grown from the division cut out of the bigger plant in early spring. . .

The operation was obviously a success, and I suspect the newbie will be wanting a bigger pot in a year or two. . .

Meanwhile, I’m tickled that we’ve settled in to harvest a sixth or seventh year of apples on our trees; have plants mature enough to be divided; have a blossom-studded hydrangea plant grown from a cutting pruned off the “mother shrub”; and that pots we bought new for the garden have acquired a patina (see above photo!), just the way I like them.

Hmmmm, I had two more Headings to fill with photos I’d uploaded (Summer Dressing and Summer Making), but I’m getting that warning about an overly long post, so I will spare you. Unless there’s a big outcry and I could do a quick Addendum mid-week-ish. Let me know what you think.

Comments, questions, waves, all welcome. Maybe a few words about your Summer Week That Was; Or what’s coming up next week; Summer Food Currently in Rotation; Summer Dress You’re Wearing on Repeat . . . You get the idea!

Clicking the heart to let me know something about the post pleased you might seem a small, even negligible action to you, but cumulatively, those “Likes” are encouraging.

And, above all, thank you for taking the time to stop by and read!

Happy Weekend!

xo,

f