Walking the cat

I have to work this Sunday, and on a terribly boring project to boot. Last Sunday, however, I took advantage of the slight drizzle to spend most of the day on the terrace repotting a lot of my plants, listening to various Slate podcasts about the curious circus that is US politics. On the list of “things I like to do on a slow Sunday”, this ranks pretty high.

There will be a railing at some point (next week, according to the railing man but I’ll believe it when I see it) and also floor boards. The difficulty is in finding a suitable domestic wood — I don’t want any tropical timber in the house. In the meantime, we’ve been enjoying the terrace in its somewhat unfinished state (giving our building-site manager nightmares in the process because he keeps thinking we’ll have too much to drink and fall off — I guess we don’t strike him as the most responsible clients he’s ever had). The downside is that it’s too hot for most plants in the summer as the tarpaper heats up a lot.

This bedroom window is not usually open wide (mainly due to being blocked by plants), so Isla needs to check matters out. Snapshot taken from my temporary office (i.e. where I’m sitting now).My hoya hasn’t bloomed since we moved here. I wonder if it’s not getting enough light.Still, the dark green waxy leaves are pretty in their own right.

Spot the cat

My calla lily has been suffering from aphids but is recovering now (healthy new shoot since the picture was taken).  Any idea what the fleshy plant behind it might be called? My mother refers to it as “donkey’s ear” on account of the leaves’ shape but I don’t think that’s right. The plant (well, a tiny version thereof) was a present from the woman who made the dress for my coming-of-age celebration many years ago and has long since died. It’s doing well, despite my inability to call it by its proper name and look up care instructions.

Oh well, no sense wishing I could spend today this way as well. Back to work!