It was a good day for Timaru. Our new wardrobe is all mantled (as opposed to dis, naturally), and with our custom-painted two doors nestled up against one another rather than separated by a mirror it appears as though a stylized leaf-lion is peering out of it. I like it. Also, a fellow from church came over and helped Nathan with the trickier-than-anticipated installation of the ceiling fan (which up until this point had been taking up entirely too much space in my crafting nook). So we hair light again, which is pretty ideal, but also circulation. Heck yeah. And finally, a wonderful woman we shall call Bliss came around this afternoon to teach us that our garden was not as frighteningly overwhelming as I'd suspected. As it turns out, the grounds of Timaru are pretty low-maintanence.
(Thank goodness.)
As a matter of fact, in the words of the former owner of this place, the best way to maintain it is to sit in it and enjoy it with a glass of wine. I can totally do that.
Yes, you read that correctly: the former owner. I totally broke down in my garden-freak-out and found him on Facebook (fortunately we share friends) and sent him a plaintive plea for assistance. He very kindly got me in touch with Bliss, a friend of his whom he'd paid to maintain the garden after they'd moved out but before we bought it, so that she could show me about. Seriously, it does not get any better than that in terms of having someone come talk to you about your inherited garden.
Also he recommended a good reference book, which I promptly ordered (hey, the man built the garden up from literally nothing- you're darn right I'm taking his advice), so once that comes in I plan to dig right in (unintended, I swear) and become a Woman Who Gardens.
Or at least sits out back and drinks wine.
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