WEEDING!I've started clearing out parts of my mother's yard, for eventual sale. This part of BC is rainforest, so man does that yard GROW. If something gets left in the grass, the rainforest reclaims it. The vines and weeds grow in between and twist all around the object, and layers upon layers of vines grow over top. I feel like Indiana Jones excavating treasure! (It's a big yard, and the back corner used to have a greenhouse, so there's all sorts of strange things that were left behind and grown over.)
So then I got all interested in invasive plants. We have some thistle, some dandelions, but the real invaders are:
Buttercups! Adorable but they're EVERYWHERE.
Blackberry - Look at those spikes! We have them as high as my face, so I have to cut those down first so I don't get scratched up when I clear the ivy.
English Ivy - Holy crap this stuff grows and GROWS. It creeps across the lawn, sucking in everything in its way. It's beautiful but man! Takes forever to find where the plant starts!
Luckily we do not have (though it's common in this area) Giant Hogweed. The juice and pollen get on your skin and when expose to sun starts burning and bubbling, getting worse every hour. And that same spot will burn in the sun for years afterwards. When hogweed is spotted the city ropes it off, and you have to wear hazmat or similar clothing to take it out. Neat! It's so Star Trekian!
So you can see I'm having a fun time. I like novelty.
In Montreal I lived in an apartment and never went out--I need a yard in order to venture out. And my balcony gets invaded by yellowjacket wasps almost the entire summer--they won't leave me alone! So here at mum's, when sunny, I sit out and write or weed. But I'm not a good sunblock applier. Lack of experience I guess.
First I burned my face and top of my head. Not too bad, you can see I just look like the ruddy Anglo-Saxon I am.
Then I burned an exact triangle on my chest. It's fading now.
Then a patch on my right shin, but it's hard to see now.
None of these hurt. But today I was weeding from 2 PM - 5 PM and didn't realize my skin was poking out between my t-shirt and yoga pants. So now I have a real burn, the ouchy kind.
It's all très cool.
In the evening I watch some TV with mum, then go upstairs to the little attic apartment. With its sloping ceiling, and my foamee bed, I feel like a real artist. I sit on a chair with my feet on a loveseat* and sometimes put my laptop on my purple suitcase as a table. It's weirdly comfortable.
Behind me Chino the cat naps away. (I used to have the two foamees piled on top of each other, but when the cats started sleeping with me I separated them so that there's more room for everyone.) Sometimes Mystery comes up. I feel like a Real Writer, working away in my garret with a bed on the floor, living out of suitcases. I am so bohemian. No wonder my word count's going well! ;-)
|"They call me Mista Nails!"|
And JJJ's WillWriteforChocolate challenge continues, super fun. It's starting to take on the feel of a writing community. And more people keep joining including a reader of my blog! I am so humbled.
I start by looking up legitimate research on the nets, like Paris in the 1920s, and then end up everywhere else. Here's my browsing history from yesterday.
* Here's me looking at photos of Michael Jackson's kids! Procrastination is weird shit.
* The actual research...
So. Things are going along peacefully enough. Do you guys garden? Procrastinate on the net? Live in an attic?
* I can't sit with my knees above my hips, or most of the time it will trigger a headache. The loveseat is too plushy, I sit too low.