I've got an actual, honest to goodness, GARDEN.

 

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No, gentle reader, you did not hallucinate.  I, Shannon H. have a garden.  With tomatoes and peppers and brussel sprouts and...flowers.  There are actually a number of edible things in the garden...and there are flowers, too. 

Why is this such a big deal?  The mister thinks it will take my mind off of worrying about real life and focus on the minutia of the garden plants.  Water them and just zen out for a while.  Eat the occasional strawberry...stop and smell the roses...ruffle the lavender plants a bit.  You get the idea.  In 'real life' I'm quite the worrier: will I be working on contract in the new school year (yes - good. Stop worrying. But it's a bitsy little contract - start worrying again), will we be able to move into our own place next year now that my (fairly sizable) student loan has been paid off?  What will happen to my garden when we move away?  Will the new people take care of it and love it as much as I do?

Do you see what he puts up with?  These kinds of thoughts lead me to sleepless nights and stomach aches.  However...the garden was a wonderful idea on his part.

It got me outside in the fresh air and working up a bit of a sweat while we were putting up a new fence (so I wouldn't have to worry about the llamas, alpaca and donkey tromping around and eating my precious plants):

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That's the view from the backyard looking north.  The donkey is less than pleased that he has been cut off from his daily brushing now that he can't just come up to the sliding glass door and look in to see if we'd be available for a bit of attention.

The mister is not keen on the idea of having rocks as garden skirting (or whatever you want to call it).  This is my little garden - the little garden needed more soil.  The little garden got more soil and a darling little rock skirting to keep it all in.  When he came home and saw my garden (then referred to as my 'poop garden' since I only had llama manure in it because we hadn't finished the most crucial part of the fence that would be directly BESIDE the animals), I asked him if he liked what I had done and that if he hadn't he could lie to me.  After an: "I LOVE you," and a shake of the head, that was that.

It's been coming along - slowly, but surely.  I've got my vegetables in the ground and looking rather perky as well as almost two dozen strawberry plants in two 1/2 wine barrels and two black planters...which look remarkably like the office garbage bins from Costco.  Four for $9.99.  It's basic black - I didn't care what the original plan for the containers was.  (Pictures to follow I spruced up the planters since I took the last picture.)  I still have to put in the rest of my flowers (more of them keep showing up on my door step.  Literallly!), before it is completely finished.

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But I can worry about that tomorrow.

Been a while...

It HAS been a while since I last updated, and I apologize for that.  After I finished the SFU's PDP last year, I went into over-drive in trying to find employment in one of the local school districts.  No excuse, I know, for not doing anything creative.  However, my hard work paid off and I was hired on by Langley as a TOC (Teacher On Call) and actually lucked out enough to land a part-time continuing position as a Computer Explorations teacher at one of the nearby schools.  

 

What does any of this have to do with doing glass work?

 

Nothing.

 

It does, however, have a lot to do with NOT doing glass work.  Teaching, please remember, has been a passion of mine LONG before glass was.

 

That being said, it's also SUMMER!  Summer means that I am out of work (though I did get picked up for another contract in September), and chomping at the bit for creativity!

 

Nathan and I have been working on the outside of our place when the weather is good and we are able to sock away some time together to get stuff done around here.  We have already put up a new gate (the old one was falling apart).  We are putting in a garden area just inside the front gate, put up new fencing around the area the llamas and donkey will be most likely to get their lips around something from the garden, new steps to the sliding glass door, planters, planters, planters...you get the picture, right?  I snapped a couple quick pictures of the first two planters I put together.  I'm pretty happy with the results.  I'm a big fan of colour - bright and bold, if possible. 

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I've also been able to get some torching done recently.  Are these all the beads that I've done?  Heck no!  I haven't had a chance (or the enthusiasm) to get outside and take a bunch of glamour shots of my glass work since I got back into the swing of things.  No worries, gentle readers, I will be posting more and more pictures as the summer months progress.  For now, please enjoy some eye candy...

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I've found a great affection for Double Helix's silvered glass.  It's expensive, but it does the NEATEST things, especially if used sparingly.

Pro-D Day

1st session = could have slept in.
2nd session = got a bunch of good math resources.
3rd session = bit of a rehash of basic blogging but helpful until LSS Internet quit and we couldn't move forward.

1/3 of the day wasn't a waste.

Congratulations.

LA LA Land

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Dance Dance!

Part 1 of writing project that isn't about writing

So...this is the wacky mini-project that we were supposed to do in my writing class last week.  This is, I assume, going to lead up to the destruction of a perfectly good book.  Unless I use a Twilight book...then I could give the reason for choosing that book as I didn't feel guilty about destroying it...might have even improved it.

 

Character Sketch: Henry (though if you watched WB network in the late 90's...)

He sat facing the door to the coffee shop with his tea placed in the middle of the coaster.  Occasionally he would glance down at his watch, look around, then pick up the cup and take a sip, grimacing at the taste every time. 

He was young looking for his age which I guessed to be around forty; his tweed jacket purposely hung over the back of his chain, his faded jeans well worn below his crisp Oxford style button up grey shirt with the top button open.  His hair was clean and short with a hint of salt-and-pepper.  His face was clean –shaven and tense – his mouth tight and his eyebrows drawn together.  He began to reach for the pocket of his jacket when the bell above the door rang, announcing another patron’s entrance.

 When he saw who it was, the tenseness left his face.  He stood up to greet the young woman who just stepped out of the sun and into the shade of the cafe.  She was probably younger than him by twenty years – he carefully held her hand for a moment before they sat down together.  Both were quiet for a moment with several false starts at speaking where he would open his mouth, body tense, then stop and look away for a moment before starting again.

“I don’t suppose I can make you change your mind?” he asked gently with a clipped accent he either inherited from his parents or from living across the pond then moving here.

“No, you really can’t,” she replied, her breath sighing out of her as if she was resigned to talking on a subject that was old news.  “Honestly, Henry, we’ve been over this and I’ve made up my mind.”

“I really wish you would call me ‘Dad’ or something,” he said quietly while taking another deliberate sip of tea, perhaps to gather his thoughts, his eyes downward cast.

“Well if you acted like my dad instead of...look, we’re happy.  I’m happy,” she began then huffed out a frustrated breath when the man across from her took off his glasses and began to polish the spotless lenses with a handkerchief he pulled out of his jeans pocket.  “Would you stop doing that?”

“Doing what?” he asked as he continued to clean his glasses.

“That thing where you don’t want to see what’s going on so you polish your glasses.  Just stop it, okay?” she asked as she reached across the small table and gently grabbed his hands in hers.  “We’re moving to where his work is, and I’m sorry that means that I won’t be around to see you as much.  I’m also sorry it’s in Saskatchewan because I’ve heard what the weather there can be like.  But...we’re working on building our lives together.  His contract will be up for renewal with the company in two years.”

He nodded, lost in thought.  He looked at her but it was as though from far away, looking through time, eyes glassy and distant.  “It’s just...” he began then stopped, taking a breath and clasping hands together for want of something to do with them.  “It’s just...since your mother...” he was now looking at her instead of a ghost, “now that she’s gone; you’re the only family I have.”  He offered a stiff-upper-lip smile and busied himself with another sip of tea that didn’t meet his standards.

“I know, Henry, but can’t you see that I’m trying to make a family of my own with Will?  You’re not going to be cut out of it, but we need some time to get our bearings, to figure out if we can really make it together.  It’s like with you and Mom,” she said as she sat back in the chair.  “You followed her from England to here...how could I possibly be your daughter and not follow Will to Saskatchewan?”  A twinkle in her eyes betrayed a smile.

Henry looked at her with his glasses held by a stem in one hand.  His eyes were lightning blue as they studied her face for a long moment.  She stared right back with that not-quite-a-smile.  Then he exhaled and placed his glasses back on his nose, looking through them at the young woman.

“Well, we should go pick some things up like extra blankets and those fuzzy socks you like.”  He clapped his hands to his knees and stood up, one hand held out to his daughter.  Then he turned and scooped up his coat, spinning it around his shoulders and sticking his arms into the sleeves.  He offered his daughter his arm and she took it with a relieved smile. 

He looked at her sternly over his glasses.  “And bug spray,” his face relaxed and a hint of a smile appeared at the corners of his mouth, “I hear the mosquitoes out there are the size of cats.”