So I went to the local nursery, and spoke to an employee. She was an elderly wizened woman who came up to–for lack of a better descriptor–nipple height on me. I explained my shady northern exposure deck woes and asked her for suggestions.

She gave me a pitying look and said “Plastic.”


“Yeah. If you don’t get at least a little filtered sunlight, don’t waste your money.”

I admired her honesty, even if that wasn’t at all what I wanted to hear. Ah, well. Birdfeeders and birdbaths it is. I can kill some impatiens by inches next year for a little color. And perhaps…god help us all…some ivy. If it’d grow in the deep dark shade beside the old house, it’ll probably grow in a pot here, as loathe as I am to plant such a voracious beast, even in a container.

Not what I was hoping for, but you work with whatcha got, alas. I picked up a couple of wee houseplants and headed home.

Tomorrow, I tackle the bedroom, which will involve–naturally–the erection of Even More Bookcases. I have actually found homes for all my books, so these aren’t filled. Yet. (It’ll come. I know how these things work.) In the meantime, they get to be storage for the ten million things that need to go somewhere but haven’t gone there yet.

And now, time for more paint!

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