(Looking For) A New Place To Love


I've been absent for a while. There are reasons, either too misaligned with the optimism that a blog like this is supposed to convey or just a little too personal.

But today, I'll tell you that I loved this house. Outside, it has the sweetest-smelling lilac trees and bee-seducing lavender. I didn't think the lavender would live after I'd yanked it from the ground during the reno and forgotten about it for months. But my mom, a Croatian who knows lavender (as all Croatians do), told me that this plant had remarkable survivalist qualities--and as I watch the bees congregate in droves on the massive, purple-topped bushes along my front walkway, I can see she was right about that. 

Inside, the house brims with stories from the past--stories about childhood, marriage, births, deaths, and familial love that soak into your skin the moment the huge wooden door with the iron peephole pulls you inside. The house was a vexing old charmer. Too, it was stubborn and unyielding. It pissed me off when it refused to comply with my plans and sometimes we threw plates and swore at each other, neighbours peering through their half-closed blinds to survey the chaos. But we came together in the end, didn't we, old house? I'm grateful for your button-pushing--creative and personal.

Today, I need a phoenix--a new, old house to fix. But in the next chapter, I'll be more careful about letting labels like "forever home" seep into my head and register as some kind of immutable fact. The only certainty is what today offers and the people/ moments it contains.

My fridge tells a good story about the sanctity of little moments. Though not the most blog-worthy of specimens, the fridge, so ridiculously loaded with tacky, tiny fragments of life, has a way of starting my mornings off right. My girl, my family, my friends, my crazy dog--all the creatures I couldn't possibly live without--are gathered here.


In all likelihood, I will soon have to leave this place. But it's okay--I'll take the important creatures with me and we'll create something else that is awesome. In the meantime, I have newer photos of rooms not yet published on the blog, but will post soon. Thanks for reading...and, with luck, I'll have another project to tell you about in the near future. 


p.s.--**If you live in Victoria and have a vintage house in the Oak Bay/ Estevan area you're contemplating selling, please get in touch.**

**If you're thinking of buying and my house may be a fit, contact me. It's a great home, in the best of locations :)**

2016 House Projects, Part 1


Well, hello! It has been a while since I last wrote something for this little blog, but I'm still here and thoughts of projects, both new and unfinished, still swirl in my brain with the tenacity of a Jack Russell. Have you ever met a Jack Russell? More tenacity per gram of body weight than any creature on earth, so they say.

We don't harbour any manic canines here--unless you count the little herding dog who decided to adopt us a few months ago. He is a rescue named Nocho, seen guarding the dining table below. His tail is feathery and will no doubt land in the corners of many future photos, prompting me to swear at the prospect of having to reshoot. But nah, I can't stay mad at you because you have big, brown eyes and deserve a treat. Good boy...

dining room: www.thehousediaries.com

Preoccupying though it may be, this new-dog-love hasn't quelled my love for all-things-home. Do you wonder what draws us to our living spaces in such powerful ways and fuels our desire to keep shaping (and reshaping) them? For me, it's a near-irrepressible need to create things. I think and dream endlessly of design--how it connects to the way we live, how new and old ideas can collide in the most superb ways, and how something good can become better (or more functional or less wasteful or...) If you like to create, you understand the allure.

This year, we have a few new plans for the house--some small, some fairly lofty. Here's Part 1 of the 2016 project list:

1) Indoor Plants: Keep Them Alive

This goal may seem modest, but it is nonetheless daunting when your relationship with indoor plants has historically been dismal. Exhibit A below shows the remains of the succulent I somehow managed to kill. I didn't even know it was possible to kill succulents, but the inadvertent experiment of leaving it on a dark shelf and denying water for eight months has proven that yes, it can be done.

And here is the bird of paradise in the principal bedroom, trying to escape after seeing what happened to the succulent. I think this plant is somewhat of a drama queen though. I mean, "bird of paradise" (?)


I won't show you what is left of the fiddle leaf fig and how I cry when I log on to Pinterest, where photos of perfect, flourishing figs mock me at every click.

This year, I will bravely try again with another expensive-ass fig. If all else fails, I can send it to my mom's house, which I've unofficially dubbed the Betty Ford Clinic For Ailing Plants. My mom is a plant whisperer. Last fall, she rescued a patio-dwelling hibiscus, slated for the plant abattoir as soon as the weather turned cold. Wooed by giant, apricot-coloured blossoms, I had high hopes upon bringing it home the previous year and, while it did well outdoors, I soon grew tired of battling leaf-sucking aphids that wouldn't leave it alone once indoors. Seeing as how I wasn't equipped to house a throng of indoor ladybugs to keep the gross aphids in check, I decided to give the plant one last summer outside, then let it slip away into plant compost heaven. God, that sounds so awful...

But alas, it wasn't the hibiscus' time and now, it thrives indoors, aphid-free, at you-know-who's house. I'm happy it survived but kind of jealous that it likes my mom more than it likes me.

Enter 2016. Forget The Year of the Monkey. This will be The Year of Indoor Plants at Our House. My inspiration is this lovely little trailing plant, which just grows and grows wherever I happen to move it. I love you, trailing plant. You fill me with hope.


2) The Outdoor Garden: Build on 2015's Strong Start

In contrast to my experiments with plant life indoors, gardening outdoors has so far yielded entirely different (and thrilling!) outcomes. Flowers and shrubs--both old and new--are joyfully lapping up their nice, new organic food. Nom, nom, nom. But most exciting of all has been my first season of raised bed gardening.

Ever since we bought this place, I knew I'd have to do something garden-y with the magical slice of space on the south-east side of the house. The exposure is perfect and a bank of tall trees by our laneway does a nice job of blocking harsh winds.

Growing up in a fairly rural part of Southern Ontario, I was lucky enough to always have a huge family garden. My parents planted every veggie imaginable. Of course, carrots were my favourite. When you're a kid, there's nothing quite like yanking a carrot out of the ground, hosing it off and taking a bite when it's fresh. Did you know that keeping the tops on the carrots as you eat them also makes you believe you are a rabbit? It's true. Ask anyone.

So, as I slowly morphed from child-to-rabbit-to-adult, the idea of growing my own vegetables never lost its appeal. I like the notion of self-sustenance and now, I especially like having our girl, Gabi, involved in the process of growing something from scratch.

After mapping out a plan, digging, leveling, edging, building, and then, finally, planting, here's what emerged in 2015:


I won't lie. It was a lot of work.  But whoa--the yield for a mere 35 square feet of space was rather amazing. And the satisfaction? Unquantifiable! I'll do a separate post in more detail, sharing what I've learned and outlining a few pleasant surprises, like the simple irrigation system that was far less terrifying to set up than I had anticipated.

In the meantime, Alison over at Deuce Cities Henhouse provides some great primers for those interested in raised bed gardening.


Thanks for reading and have a wonderful weekend!