Guardians of the House


It dare say i am finished unpacking.  Except for this one last box.  This is the box of stuff I don’t know if I want to keep, or where to put the crap IN this box.  But tonight, I will decide.  

Our living room is actually our least-used room, because it’s rather sparsely furnished.  Eventually I’ll fill it with plants, including some ficus trees.  I just LOVE indoor trees.  

I had a ficus named “Maurice” who grew from a little sapling to a giant tree in three years, but when we moved into the Tofino apartment, there wasn’t enough natural light to keep him alive.  I regretfully rehomed him to a place with another ficus tree with an M name.  I may advertise to see if I can get Maurice back.  It might seem weird to be attached to a particular plant, but I just am.  I still remember a huge jade tree I had to rehome when I moved from North Bay to Toronto.  I gave it to a friend who promptly killed it.  My Mom gave me that plant, and I wish I’d kept it!

A friend of mine has a peace lily I gave her when we moved from Toronto to the coast.  She STILL has it, and it’s doing well!

So I look forward to my future plant friends.  I have a little jade tree Sweetie gave me for my birthday, and a few African violets in my office.

Anyway.  I wanted to write about this lady who is on the other side, but still lives in our house.  This is the first time we’ve lived in a house that is significantly inhabited and in a very pleasant way!

I don’t know much about her, just that she comes across as a retired grandmotherly lady who considers herself the custodian of the house, like a den mother for the tenants.  She likes us.

Last night, when Sweetie and I were in bed watching Sons of Anarchy, this lady I call Margaret appeared in our bedroom doorway and said ” well, I’m going to bed!  Good night!”

“Good night!” I said.

“Where’s her bedroom?” Sweetie asked.

We both think Margaret’s room is my office.

She’s a lovely lady and the reason we haven’t felt the need to smudge / cleanse our new place.  She’s the guardian spirit of this place. 

Today, I babied her rose bush.  I think it’s her rose bush.  It’s seems as old as the house.  It’s this massive, decades-old climbing bush in front of our porch.  I gave it a mild pruning, topped up the soil and gave it a feeding.  Margaret is very pleased.

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