Skeletons

You'd think that writing about conflicted parenting would be about as "real" - and scary - as it gets. But stupidly, somehow I'm more nervous to show you the "pre-pergola" shots of the back third of the garden, than to share the story of my maternal miseries. (What? My mother was an interior designer for years!)

Perhaps my priorities are all kinds of wrong, but being the perfectionist I happen to be - the one who thinks she's more worthwhile for faultless design execution - it's rough to share these:




Yes, that is graffiti on our neighbours' garage walls. We didn't fence from the back edge of the garages till a couple of years ago and, prior to that, the taggers dropped by. This is real urban living, I tell you. And the laneway aka den of hideous concrete, is an eyesore, to be sure.

What I'm tremendously optimistic about is that, when I show you the "afters" of this space, you're going to see:

• a new pergola
  
• heightened fence / stabilized gate
  
• patio stone
  
• landscaping near the garage walls and
  
• the beginnings of climbing vines.

Yes, it's taken 9 summers to get here - and y'all didn't even see the horror that describes the backyard before we started taking steps to improve it. But improvements are on the horizon and I'm very excited.