Gardening
When M. & I moved here, one of the principles we knew we would have to address was that in a place like Sydney there is no reason not to live somewhere with outdoor space. In NYC it had been one of my ambitions to have a balcony, but in the end I elected a fireplace instead, that being the opportunity having presented itself to me and balcony-equipped apartments being more expensive, less available, and pretty much impractical for some significant part of the year anyway. Because we are in a hot country, a fireplace seemed extraneous to our needs, although in winter we have now learned that Sydney may regard itself as tropically situated, but it is not; without direct sun it can get distinctly chilly, particularly indoors, where the delusion of proximity to the equator has led to a general lack of central heating. Because of Australia’s schizophrenic relationship with the sun over the years, there are many apartment blocks without balconies immediately adjacent to those fully equipped, just as there are many houses with great expanses of decking and glass right next to those with tiny windows that don’t look like they were ever meant to open. We opted for a balcony, which has led to a housekeeping effort I hadn’t really anticipated: plants. It’s a swell balcony. There’s room for a (little) table and four chairs, the air conditioning condenser units (attractively hidden away in a large, louvered box we had built for the purpose), and a few plants. It turns out, however, that plants need light, and if they’re on our balcony, they have to be raised about three feet off the ground in order to get any. Ours is an enclosed balcony; not the kind that’s stuck on the outside of the building like a fire escape with no ladder, but a corner of a room, with one window facing south and one facing east. This has the advantage of being an outdoor space that’s quite cool in summer, but it isn’t particularly good for keeping plants, not to mention the prevailing winds here appear to be from the south, so it sweeps through the balcony quite steadily. One of our lovely plants is a yucca, a desert plant that can grow quite tall, but which is characterized by a stout trunk a few inches in diameter surmounted by a brush of long spiky leaves. It catches the wind beautifully, and if it was a sailboat it would have been in New Zealand ages ago. Instead, it falls over frequently, and we come home to have to reset it in its pot. I tried tying it to the rail, but that didn’t help as much as we thought it would. So this weekend’s major activity was spent in finding a new pot, some dirt, and repotting the yucca. Luckily, this activity afforded an excellent excuse to sit out on the balcony in the wind enjoying the satisfaction of a job well done along with a cold beer. I’m beginning to think we should have gotten a place with a yard, but it’s difficult to balance in my mind the extended need for gardening with the prospect of drinking more beer. I should probably give up the exercise. If you’re coming over, bring a six-pack.