Garden Update

Gardening is expensive. The Dude (Mostly the Dude) spent $300 in June on plants and mulch and grass seed. And that's on top of how much we spent in May to get it all started. I've capped my husband off of buying anymore backyard related items. I admire his exuberance, but would enjoy more dollars in our bank account. That said, the garden's looking pretty darn good, minus the suffering grass.

The tomatoes have finally started to grow, though I can't say much about the peppers. Nary a pepper to be seen, and the zucchini seems to have issues. They grow and then stop and then rot. I have to look into this. Last year they were effortlessly easy.

Most people who see the garden or hear about our efforts then ask about how long we're planning to stay. Well, a few years probably. We've replaced the lighting fixtures in the living room and kitchen because they were shoddy, icky and ugly. Of course when we moved in, we went to the trouble of painting the place. We tore up the crappy stairwell carpet and put down vinyl flooring. Even if you don't own, you can still make your place a home.


For the first time in a long time, I just want to stay in one place and nest. 


On a completely different note, I've been exhausted lately. I'm going to have a nap.

Urban Farming, Modern Life

The garden, she's growing! Growing! I posted a wee while ago about the garden and photographed the work we did planting it. Here be the update, yo.

The flowers are growing nicely!

The tomato plant is sprouting up. 

The bell pepper plant is growing taller and more robust.

The beans have sprouted!
We're going to lace them up the metal.

The initial leaves on this zucchini plant died and these larger ones grew instead.

The strawberry plants are now growing 17 strawberries.

Flowers have blossomed!

The Dude gave me a rosebush.
You can't see in this photo, but buds have formed.

We're pretty much in love with this garden. I spend the most amount of time on it, being the one who's home the most. It's relaxing, the plucking out of weeds, watering, and eventually harvesting. We planted garlic last spring that didn't grow and didn't die. It did develop tiny bulbs, which in my ignorance I never separated. So I gentled wrenched them away from each other and dispersed them around the soil and so maybe we'll also have home-grown garlic.

Speaking of gardens, two of our friends just moved into this lovely house on the east end, a stone's throw from McPal and his fiance, and their backyard was recently landscaped, something the McPal house is planning on as well. There's something magical about a private outdoor space in the city. You take it for granted in the burbs or in smaller municipalities, but in Toronto, it's rather rare and special. Now the six of us, in three households, have backyards for gardening, barbecues and general glee. Though of course we're not going to be doing any landscaping. This is, after all, a rental.

We all had a barbecue together at the new house. Two dogs were playing, meat was grilling, beer was being consumed and homemade cream soda was being concocted. Some of us are in our 30s already, and others are approaching it quickly (Me. ME!) and it was sort of wild to speculate that we were all adults, moving forward. Though in my mind I was also gently noticing some key differences. I'm a renter, not a home owner. A cat(s) owner, not a dog owner. A west-ender, not an east-ender. And funnily, three of the four all work at the same company. It was a strange sensation of feeling sort of out of the loop. Not sad or negative in any way, just a tickling in my mind, noticing these details.

We've been spending less and less time with our friends. This is mostly due to the Dude. His work schedule is crazy. He works 60 hours many weeks. Overnight trips are not infrequent. Weekend work happens. The money is nice, though sometimes those long nights are just par for the course on photo shoots and don't actually translate into more cash, only less energy. He'll come home exhausted, occasionally cranky, unwilling or unable to consider a social life. Sometimes I'll have one without him, other times I've missed him and I'll take his lethargic couch hugging over more time apart spent with others.

I'd say we're weathering some challenges. It's not the first time. After he graduated, the Dude took awhile to find steady work and that was also hard. He and I are communicating and doing our best, handling crankiness, trying to carve out room for each other, managing our obligations and still trying to have a social life. We're figuring it out and I think it's making us a stronger couple. I have one week left of vacation. I wish he was off too.

330 Days

So I have a couple of changes on the go. I suppose this could be considered New Years Resolution-like, but it's more lifestyle/growing up/future planning stuff.

As for the no-shampoo experiment, I washed it Friday and my scalp is not terribly oily now. My hair doesn't smell bad either. So I'm no worse for wear in the greasy and odour department. However, my hair has a strange consistency to it. It's sort of dry and sort of... not. I didn't do the recommended vinegar rinse, which I will be attempting next round.

When I was in the shower I took a heaping tablespoon's worth of baking soda, added water and scrubbed it into my scalp. But it was rather watery so I took another smallish heap and added less water to create a paste and scrubbed that in as well. It was all very strange feeling. If you enjoy suds and lather, this part is not very satisfying.

I left it in for a minute and rinsed it out. Vinegar is supposed to restore PH balance to your hair and give it a healthy sheen. And vinegar is also a cleaning agent, so it sort of finishes the job. The smell is supposed to dissipate after the hair dries.

I am soooo looking forward to no more shampoo. My hair always looks and feels like a frizzy mess after shampooing. It's toxic stuff, it's bad for your hair, your scalp and really, I'm tired of it. My exema rash breaks out when I use it. It's an oil byproduct and I don't want it on my skin anymore. I'm always red and blotchy and dried out after I use shampoo. Wherever it touches me, my skin reacts.

So that's one change. Going shampoo free 2012.

Change two is around the home. Our living room finally has all its necessary furniture. It's like a real grownup room with enough storage. It's functional. It's comfortable.

And we want to own our own house. And this being Toronto, we're in for a rough ride. The housing market is out of control and we don't want to be house poor. There is a condo bubble developing so maybe there will be deals down the road. But while we wait and see where things go there, we're looking to save up a downpayment.

We currently have a decent amount. But it's not enough to get more than a small condo. And I work from home and we'd like to have a child. So a 1-bedroom condo is not going to cut it for our future. We need at least two bedrooms and a den-like space for me to do my job.

So this be the year we save, yo. Come March, we'll be putting away about a fifth of our monthly income. Very... adult. If we lived in our hometown making what we make, we'd have a house. I love Toronto, but in this one way, I hate it. Getting into the market is a nightmare. I don't want to get a place and wind up house poor, unable to pay my mortgage and other bills. So we're waiting till the Dude's income goes up a little more and we have more in the bank.

Change three is my creativity. I'm halfway through my aunt's illustrations for her children's book. I've also started writing again. I want to get in the family track next year, so if I'm going to do something with myself in this regard, the time is now.

I've spent my 20s doing a number of things. I've been in meaningful relationships. I've travelled. I've moved around a lot. I've lived with roommates, alone, with a partner. I got married. I found a good job. I spent time in counselling to get some closure on my relationship with my father. I've figured out who I am. I'm almost 30 and I really truly finally feel like I know myself.

And now I wish to complete a couple creative projects before my 20s come to a close, before I enter my 30s and home ownership and starting a family take me in a direction away from myself. Not that I'll leave who I am, but my world will expand beyond myself, and for a time I will not be my sole focus. Heck, it isn't now. I have to share my focus with the Dude. He's my husband. We're become a team. But this last year I'm going to dedicate to me.

330 days till I'm 30.

Home Love

The Dude's been home for a few days and we've been enjoying glorious nothing together. I often enjoy time alone and being out with friends is wonderful. But there's an entirely different social need that he fills, and no it's not just the bow-chica-bow-bow.

It's more of a feeling of home. This apartment with these furnishings and these kittens and myself only create so much home. The rest is the Dude and when we're together I feel like everything's the way it's supposed to be.

The little absences are planned in advance so I know they're coming, they bring home money, they advance the Dude's career, he keeps in touch reliably while he's away, and they're short. So they're bearable. But when he's gone, despite the house being cleaner, it's rather empty feeling.

When he came home Friday night he was a zombie. He had nothing to say, he was sweaty and clammy and his face was that of a man who needed a two-day nap. Now he's energized and we're thinking of small ways to spend the day. We usually only get one day off together per week, and lately we've been lucky to even get that. So this is kind of a gift. It really makes us appreciate each other's company being away from each other so much.

Some couples spend loads of time apart: separate vacations, military families, long distance relationships, jobs that take people overseas. I don't think we're built for that. Not that we couldn't take it, but that we both prefer to go to bed together each night and it just doesn't feel right unless we do.

We're getting married two months from today. It's a cozy thought to think of marrying a man who feels like home.

Floor Pt 2

Today is day two of the floor laying extravaganza. We decided not to kid ourselves with the giant linoleum rolls and went the vinyl tile route, which required yet another mystical journey to Home Depot, which sticks on the floor and is easy to cut to shape. It's actually quite perfect for a rental addition space. Regardless, it looks significantly better than grody carpeting from school portable hell.

Here is a view of the work in progress from the kitchen.

Here is the view from the middle landing.
There is the Dude measuring away.

It's been a banner day at the Jendra residence. The floor isn't the only new addition. My work delivered a new computer for me to replace my 10-year-old model. What prompted this was my wrist pain and the fact my old clunker no long ran my dictation software, and that I was slowly crippling my hands from all the straight hours of typing. When you do what I do for nearly seven years, these sorts of issues crop up.

But now with my new beaut of a computer, I can work safely again. I like that I can count on my department to take care of me in these ways when I need it. All I had to do was call and my needs were met. It's nice. I know that's what they're supposed to do, but not all places actually care.

But back to the floor, come tomorrow, things should be better. The kitchen can be cleared of clutter and junk and the (bleh) cat litter again, and resume its normal duties of just being a kitchen. The Dude will put the finishing touches on the new flooring while I try out my new Kitchen-Aid mixer and bake some happiness. The kittens, of course, will go on being kittens with fewer things to poke their noses into. And all will be well.

Home Improvement

The Dude and I are undergoing a major home project. We're property managers at our apartment, so on top of the Dude handling garbage duties, snow removal and general upkeep of common areas, we also give our landlady options to improve the place. She pays materials, we (meaning the Dude) provide the labour. We live in a better home, she has her property maintained.

So we thought (meaning I thought) the carpeting on the stairs leading to the basement was grody and had to go. It smelled, was constantly dirty and it was the sort of crummy threadbare rush job you see in school portables.

Day 1 was the day of my shower. The Dude attempted to get the materials, the bank card didn't work in three separate locations and he came home totally aggrieved and nothing got done that day.
Day 2 was yesterday. We bought the materials: vinyl flooring rolls, adhesive, adhesive trowel, a crowbar-like tool for prying nails, and a vinyl knife.
Day 3 was today. Today we lifted the carpet from the stairs. Holy merciful Jebus. The dust. The unimaginable dirt that had been sitting and living beneath this carpeting. And the nails in the runner were rusted-- and they were nails! Not screws, nails!

Here are the runners, rusted, dented
and now in need of replacing.

Here is a piece of carpet,
waiting to be disposed of in a land far, far away.

And a view of the stairs from the middle landing,
stripped of nasty carpet.

Tomorrow the real difficult work begins: the measuring and cutting of the floor, and renting a roller to lay the damn thing. But it'll be worth it. I hate that stupid carpet.

Time line

I've been working with a graphic designer from my uncle's print shop and have zeroed in on the invites. We've been emailing back and forth a bit discussing various small changes and I think we've come to a close. They're pretty much something I would make myself if I had the mad skillz. Everything I make tends to be cute or quaint looking. I'm not edgy or alternative or formal or trendy or frilly.

I'm kind of excited to post them, which I'll do once I have sent them out in the mail. I should have them in hand by August, and out by September.

I'm sort of in the swing of planning, and I'm so far in and so close yet so far that wedding planning has become a sort of sub-lifestyle for me. It's on my mind frequently, as it requires decision-making, appointments, labour and monetary investment, not to mention ideas and creative ones at that to make it fun and affordable.

That said, I'll be much pleased when it's all done and I can re-focus my energies on other things. It'll be nice to not have to block off our income in large chunks for an event. Instead we'll be saving for things like vacations or a house.

And I've been giving home ownership a lot of thought lately. It's the dream for most people. It kind of says "I've made it." And indeed in many ways it does say that. And people invest instead in an asset rather than spending on rent, and they can decorate willy nilly. These things are lovely.

But the more I consider what the Dude and I plan to do and our needs, the more I see we simply can't buy a house until he's a photographer. Not just because we need to buy him equipment and secure him regular studio space, but we can't take the same risks if we're homeowners. We'd have too much to lose. The Dude can't be too tied down by property ownership, not if he's going to embark on a career based entirely on getting clients. Until he develops as a successful photographer, saving up and having regular mortgage/utility/maintenance/insurance/tax costs on hand for a home the size we'd need will be unrealistic for us.

So home ownership is likely five-plus years away, if not more. A number of my friends own property now: my maid of honour, some friends north of the city, and now McPal and his fiance. I also have a friend in Ottawa with two properties. But I can reconcile our differing time lines. I'm happy for friends' milestones and accomplishments. I just also try to remind myself just why we're waiting, and that not everyone needs to do things at the same pace.

As it stands, we're likely going to start a family well in advance of having our own house. And that in itself is kind of exciting. But first thing's first, of course. Gotta get hitched.

Home is where the effort is

Okay, so this whole moving thing be the pits. I'm really looking forward to Friday. Why Friday? Because on Friday all our junkola should be moved downstairs. And that would be glorious.

But some major work has been done. Painting, for example, is over like dover. McPal and his boyfriend came over and helped me get a couple rooms done Sunday. The Dude and I got it started Saturday and we polished it up today and then got to work cleaning the general grime 'n slime from the previous tenants. Not that they were dirty people. But there was the dust and goo and grit and crumbs that are standard issue in any rental and it all had to go.

Oh man... there is so much to do. More cleaning tomorrow, basically. And then we'll start the move and do that for a few days after work. Yep.

I'm feeling ambivalent about this whole thing. It may be that the impossible has happened. After 12 years of frequent, almost yearly moving, I'm finally completely over it.

What the hell have I been searching for? Why do I do this?

I guess I like the sense of promise a new place brings. Or a place I thought had charm was in a lousy location. Or the rent felt like too much. Or the neighbours were frustrating. Or I was going through a life change.

I've been wanting to settle in and nest for years. With this apartment we did that. We painted. We fixed things. We installed shelving. And now we're starting all over. It's really coming together and it's going to be nice, but damn if there's not a ridiculous amount to do. And when we're done moving in, we're going to need to reseed the back lawn, and remove junk and debris, and dig up a space for a garden. Why do we need to do this stuff? Because we're both aching for a home and not just a place to stay.

Is it weird how much I'm going to miss the living room? I really, really like it in here. The window is large and the light is lovely. The room is perfect for me. I think part of what holds me back from being enthusiastic about this whole venture is I kind of already feel like I'm home when I'm in here. I don't like moving away from home. Everywhere else since I was 16 has been a place to stay until now.

I won't be moved from the downstairs unit. Not til we buy. We've put more into this new place than we did to move up here. The Dude said something similar to this the other day. I was glad to hear it. My apartment wanderlust is over.

Unless it's haunted down there or something, in which case I take back everything I said. Ha!

C'est expensive

Toronto is an expensive place to exist. Mostly due to rent and housing prices. You don't appreciate this sort of thing when you're in high school, or even when you're in college. I moved away for college, and I was shocked by rent costs in my GTA apartments. Living with roommates cost me over $400 a month.

Oh, but living with a roommate in actual Toronto was $675 a month. And then living alone was-- never mind. I once found a charming one-bedroom for $750 in the west end, a convenient two-minute walk on either end from halfway houses and a needle exchange. And I'm not being sarcastic calling this art deco place charming. It was an adorable nook of a place.

But I saw a filthy homeless ass, there were drug dealers lurking in the shadows, decrepit locals hanging outside of dingy bars, dog feces on the sidewalks and I felt very ill at ease being out past 10:00 p.m. It was the neighbourhood that was the problem, specifically the southeast end of Parkdale. Shortly before we moved out, a neighbour was shot in the leg with a shotgun. I never really regretted leaving. They say it's up-and-coming, and I'm sure it is. But I wasn't prepared to invest more of my time and sanity to wait it out.

The Dude and I fantasize about home ownership. First thing's first, of course: the wedding. We have a good handle on how we're going to pay for a decent one without going into debt. A home, though, is another beast entirely. Here we pay for rent and 1/3 of the gas and hydro bill. Home ownership means you pay 100% of all the utilities. Something breaks, it's your problem, so you need an emergency fund. You also need monies for property taxes.

And a nice Toronto home that's not soaked in cat urine or out in non-Toronto need-a-carland? Starting around $400,000 in neighbourhoods that aren't so great yet. Once they are great, toss on another 100 to 150 grand.

Condos then, yes? A two-bedroom not in a horrible area, you're looking at $250,000 minimum. But maybe only 700 square feet. And don't forget the condo fees. *Sigh*

On top of everything, the Dude is a freelancer. So only my income will really matter when pre-approving us for a mortgage, as I'm the one with the reliable job, 'cause that's how banks like to do things and they're the ones in charge.

There was a time a home cost a person a year's salary. Now they cost many, many year's salary. How is that reasonable? Well, I suppose I do get it. There's only so much land, and way more people than ever. Demand, demand, demand.

And this, my friends, is the sort of blog post you get when the writer can't fall asleep and watches a couple hours of Property Virgins on HGTV.

Feels like home

So I switched up the design of ye olde blogge. Obviously, I didn't do the design myself, but I think it's more me.

I got a cheque in the mail for $100. It's an HST apology, more or less. I make under a certain amount so I got a rebate. I immediately and frivolously blew it on a new dress and other such fun items. Sure, I do have a big vet bill to pay off and a Mexican wedding/vacation to pay down, but...

This is for McPal.

So, anyway.

Speaking of McPal, the Dude and I had him and his boyfriend over for dinner a few nights ago for French food. We have really discovered that we enjoy entertaining. I like when people are in my home. It makes me feel good.

Growing up, my house was sort of a central hub for friends in the neighbourhood. Part of it was the central location in the subdivision. But mostly I think it was the atmosphere. My mom was into cozy decorating. You walked into the house and it was like being in a country home. Everything was comfortable and inviting, very few things were precious. The dining room opened up into a covered deck, filled with wicker furniture and items from flea markets.

Friends of my brother and me felt comfortable grabbing a snack from the fridge. People put their feet up. Everyone hung out. The house was always tidy if not perfectly clean. Lived-in would be the word. My mother did housework on the weekends. But she also made time to read and play Tetris. She was a fairly relaxed person, particularly for a single mother, and I think my friends responded to that and felt good about being in her home.

I want a home like that. I love pop-ins, I enjoy people feeling cozy at my place, I want to recreate that feeling. My home doesn't look like it's from the country, but it does have a kitschy quality to it (Thanks in part to the Dude and his predilection for bringing home curb treasure). I think the mishmash of stuff makes the place welcoming. In a way the living room is like the Island of Misfit Toys.

This is the first place the Dude and I have ever bothered to entertain in, and I think it's due to all the effort we've put into making it comfortable and pleasant here. In a way, for the first time in awhile, I feel more at home, rather than in transition. And that's weird because rather than than spending time in one place and growing into my apartment, I've been in constant flux and slowly over time my apartments have been growing into a home, through trial and error, accumulation and removal of furnishings. This place isn't the last destination either.

You know, one of the things that couples tend to have problems with is stuff. And when the Dude moved in, yeah, there were territory issues. But over time our respective tastes have compromised and merged fairly organically. It's a nice feeling to know he's been instrumental in feeling at home. In a way, he kind of is my home.