"We can't buy that house, there's no backyard."
That's how we both felt when we looked at our green bungalow in 1998. An unappealing weedy patch of ground butted up to a cement retaining wall. No lawn, no garden, no shrubs, no deck, no room for kids to play. And no access from the house. No good.
Then I thought COURTYARD! It could be a little courtyard like in Europe or Mexico, sheltered by the wall and fence and neighbour's garage. We bought the house and I started laying down sticks and drawing pictures of an imagined patio made with old red brick, curved cement curbs and tall perennials in flower beds. It was exciting to plan.
I came across these drawings the other day, the start of our project twenty years ago. So as usual my photos turn into a blog post.
We searched back alleys for old bricks for that timeworn look Home Hardware doesn't sell. You have no idea how many people have a little stack of bricks they're willing to sell or give away. We hired professionals for the cement work and levelling to ensure proper drainage so a heavy rain wouldn't fill up the whole area. The workmen followed my rough drawings and poured a stone aggregate patio.
By then Dave had chipped away plenty of crusted mortar and we had a good stock of reclaimed brick to cover the area.
A coat of paint brightened the shed which was originally built as a lean-to for a small car. My live-in handyman inserted a recycled window and door in no time, and it wasn't long before a window box and lace curtains decorated what became a She Shed.
There was no direct access from the house so we replaced a small window with french doors and a little deck.
The bricks were arranged around the aggregate patio first, and the next year Dave finished the higher level. The ferns and flowers came fast and furious. More compost! More water! More flowers!
The cement wall became a home for aluminum teapots that followed me home from garage sales, and they just kept multiplying. I have no idea where they all came from, I probably have close to twenty now. I suspect my brothers added a few.
Nothing brand new was allowed in the decor. The style was rusted metal, ceramic birds in wire cages, decorative tins and other lovable bric-a-brac.
Dave's washtub water fountain in two different versions gurgled all summer.
Egdon (Nodge spelled backwards) became a permanent mascot courtesy of my creative brother Jim. He also said our name was just calling out for horseshoes.
I had great luck with castor beans for a few years. The huge tropical leaves and red stems were impressive and grew like crazy, but they were crossed off my list when I learned how poisonous they are.
We spent many hours over the next two decades planting, puttering and sweeping leaves and debris from the neighbour's trees.
A lot of wood was burned up in this stove during dinners with friends and family and the famous Swift Current wind didn't usually find its way into our sheltered corner.
The flowers were in their prime in those years when I was a planting maniac.
It was fun while it lasted but that blaze of glory is over. My obsession with nurturing pretty annuals has waned the last few years, and my time as a watering slave to those thirsty babies is over.
Biking, camping and visits to Saskatoon are on our summer agenda now, so only the toughest perennials and a few hardy pots of geraniums are left. They manage fine with some attention from a helpful neighbour. Thank you Laurie W.!
The yard is ready for hibernation now. It was a fun project we started twenty years ago, lots of energy and enthusiasm went into those bricks and blossoms. We still have our retreat for roasting marshmallows and more than enough photos of cosmos, zinnias, blue salvia, snapdragons and begonias to last a lifetime.
