The Year of the Dog

One year ago, we added a canine element to our household — a 2-month-old Newfoundland puppy named Nelly.


She has certainly made a difference both to house and garden.

Here is Nelly at 4 months checking out the area around the pond.

Nelly by the pond

Nelly by the pond

It quickly became obvious that free access to all parts of the garden was not going to work. A 20-pound puppy bouncing around in the fall is one thing; a 50-pounder among the tender shoots of spring is another. Then there is the whole “potty patrol” issue.

A whole set of little fences was rapidly constructed. I can’t say they improve the appearance of the place, but considering the alternative, they are acceptable.

The New Look

The New Look


Movable fence (and vintage plastic chairs)

Movable fence (and vintage plastic chairs)

The wooden picket fences are easily removed to permit lawn mowing and access to the adjacent beds. The wire fence around the circular lawn is nearly invisible, but the posts holding it up are not. I plan to replace them with more uniform and less visible wooden or metal posts.

Just now I am re-edging that circular lawn so the edge is outside the fence. Maintaining the edge is an exercise in frustration with the wire and posts in the way. For me, clipping lawn edges has a meditative quality, and a nice edge is crucial to that well-kept look, so something had to be done.

Re-edging under way (and another plastic chair)

Re-edging under way (and another plastic chair)

Then there is the dog pee issue. (Living with a dog certainly brings one close to the basic elements of life). Even though it rains quite a lot here in most winters, the three small sections of grass in the back garden soon started to acquire brown patches. Dog urine, it seems, has the same effect as a fertilizer burn. Now I’m not a big lawn aficionado, but if a lawn is present in a garden it should look better than leprous. Not being in a position to rip it out and replace it with brick paving, I am now engaged in lawn repair — seeding with a mixture of fescues, perennial rye grass and clover, which are said to be  urine “tolerant.” Thing is, since the existing lawn is already a pretty tough, mongrel mixture, including clover, but still died out in large patches, the repairs may not work.

The local sparrows, moreover, have discovered the smorgasbord of lawn seeds and descend in flocks every morning to hunt and peck. I have raked some fallen leaves over the seeded areas to cover the seeds. Once they have sprouted, I will remove the leaves. Then I’ll have to figure out how to protect the new grass and clover plants from The Dog.

Probably the worst episodes, the ones that brought the gardener in me to near-despair, were several instances of digging. Left to her own devices for a couple of hours, Nelly dug some fair-sized holes in the beleaguered lawns, ripping up tree roots to chew (commendable, if destructive) and, of course, earthworms. Sections of wire fencing and chicken wire, laid flat and weighted with rocks, prevented further digging. So (I hope) has the passage of time, but we’ll see what happens next winter and spring.

Garden, gardener and dog have survived the year. Newfoundlands are reputed to be among the most placid of dogs. Once they’re fully grown, they have a tendency to turn into canine couch potatoes and need encouragement to be active. Nelly’s favourite activity now is going for walks to the local off-leash park and nearby beach (from October to May only), where she can play with other dogs. But she likes to play at home too, with a bit of encouragement.

Playing in the garden

Playing in the garden


More playing in the garden

More playing in the garden

Happily, the small fences, which are only 18 inches to 2 feet tall, continue to be effective in protecting the beds from unwelcome visits. Nelly could easily jump over them, given sufficient incentive, but so far hasn’t been motivated. We did have to make sure there were no fallen apples to provide that incentive.

Garden and Newf coexisting (but note the barrier to the pond area)

Garden and Newf coexisting (but note the barrier to the pond area)

Fortunately, the senior animal in the household has adapted to Nelly’s presence. I can’t say they’re friends as yet, but Zeke the 18-year-old cat and Nelly the Newf are getting along.

Zeke the Cat

Zeke the Cat

Dancing in a Minefield: Writers Reviewing Each Other

Book reviews have been on my mind lately — more than usual, that is, because book reviews are always a preoccupation of us indie authors. I’ve been thinking about reviews and reviewing because most of the books at the top of my TBR pile are actually TBR&R, meaning “to be read and reviewed.” I’ve decided this year to give priority to books by authors from my local area, which narrows the field considerably. Even so, the pile keeps growing.

It occurred to me a while ago that I rarely read books just for fun, with no intention to review or even rate them. I think that’s an occupational hazard for us authors, now more than ever.

In the Olden Days (the previous millennium), books were reviewed by special people called literary critics. Back then, writers wrote and readers read. They might talk about books with friends and recommend ones they thought particularly good, but that was just talk.

Then came ebooks, self-publishing and social media. Now everyone can be a critic of sorts. For indie authors, this has created a perilous situation. First, of course, there are Too Many Books. Then there’s the fact that some of them are by fellow writers — people we know from critique groups, writing courses, writers’ conferences or the blogosphere. People we trade jokes with, whose posts we “like” and comment on. How many of us have obtained books from these online colleagues in exchange for “an honest review?”

So what do you do when you read one of these books and can’t write an honestly positive review?

Many just don’t write the review. Some contact the writer privately to express their concerns. Others grit their teeth and try to walk the tightrope, carefully making a case for their less-than-positive comments. Critical remarks may not be too damaging, but throwing a three-or-fewer-stars rating onto a pile of four and five stars, thus lowering a book’s overall score, is guaranteed to make its author unhappy.

No one wants to be a party-pooper, but I, for one, refuse to modify my honest opinion of a piece of writing just because the writer is known to me. That kind of thing perpetuates the negative views some people still have about self-published books and their authors. It may also be why Amazon has decided to remove reviews that appear to be written by people who know the author. This is a rather crude approach, but behind it is the principle that reviews should reflect readers’ true impressions of a piece of writing, unmodified by considerations such as, “Well, it’s not the best, but hey, the author is a nice guy and writes those funny blog posts, so how about 4 stars instead of 3.”

There is a huge difference between a thoughtful critical review and a mean-spirited condemnation of a book accompanied by a one-star rating. We writers can be of help to one another by carefully reading each other’s books and writing sincere (honest) reviews, both positive and negative.

One thing that’s hard to avoid (and I’m as guilty of it as anyone) is to slip into the role of editor-after-the-fact, suggesting that the author should have deleted this scene or that character, or written more description, or less. I think this kind of thing comes from participating in critique groups or being a beta reader. In those situations we are dealing with works in progress, where such suggestions are welcomed. Reviews, on the other hand, must deal with a book as published and complete.

We writers owe it to one another to hold ourselves to a high standard when we write reviews. We know both sides of the page, as it were: we both create and consume writing. We are insiders and as such must play the reviewer’s role consciously and with care.

Experimenting With Novelty: A New Theme

When I am happy with something, and it’s working well, I don’t change it. I had the same theme for this blog since 2010 — the Light theme. I liked its elegant simplicity but eventually wanted more flexibility in the way my content is displayed. The number of themes offered by WordPress was overwhelming, so it took  me a while to find one that suits me. Strangely enough, it’s called Suits.

I plan to post more short stories in the next few months, so watch that space!

In the meantime, here is a seasonably suitable scene from the garden.

A favourite scene in the back garden

A favourite scene in the back garden

The Friendship of Mortals by Audrey Driscoll

Audrey Driscoll:

A thoughtful review of The Friendship of Mortals from fellow Lovecraft admirer Dave Higgins. I am thrilled and delighted!

Originally posted on Davetopia:

The Friendship of Mortals by Audrey DriscollCounterbalancing the hidden experiments and disdain for inconvenient laws of the mad scientist with a sympathetic search for solutions to human misery, Driscoll forces the reader to face the reasons for their horror: is visceral attachment to the flesh of the dead truly more important than improving lives? If there isn’t an afterlife, is resurrection ever too expensive?

This novel is the first in a series reimagining HP Lovecraft’s Herbert West — Reanimator, so – while every attempt is made to avoid spoilers – some comparisons might reveal or reduce surprises.

A temporary appointment as custodian of the Necronomicon brings Charles Milburn, a cataloguer at Miskatonic University, into contact with Herbert West, a medical student with progressive ideas about both the medical benefits of human dissection, and death itself. A brief association that grows into collaboration as West’s dark charisma draws Milburn deeper into the boundary between chemistry and…

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Local Author Book Review #7: Triptych by Malcolm McCallum

Right at the start I will note that parts of this novel were read and discussed two or three years ago at meetings of a critique group of which I am a member. This review, however, is based on my recent reading of the complete published work.


Here is the author’s description of the book:

In Belle Epoque France, an art patron and his wife invite three painters to their countryside villa for the summer in order to create a new art movement. Murder ensues.

Triptych is not a murder mystery, however. The mysteries it explores are human nature and the creative act. Malcolm McCallum is himself a painter, and his book is full of vivid, detailed scenes and fully-fleshed characters: Roland de Grenville, the foolish art dealer and critic, Madeleine, his beautiful, dissatisfied wife, and, of course, the three artists. They have been selected by Roland as representatives of three types — the Intellectual, the Lyric and the Romantic. He hopes they will intermingle their talents to create something that will make him famous. Charles Montaigne, a wounded bear of a man, is the Romantic. The handsome seducer Boniface Roy is the Lyric, and the wizened oldster Ambrose Ferland is the Intellectual. Ambrose brings with him a young daughter, Ghislaine, and Jacqueline, his conniving wife. Emerging at crucial moments to yank on the threads of the plot is the lecherous man-about-town Gaston Hector, a good friend of Roland’s.

These are the ingredients of a rich, thick, fruitcake of a book.  The characters are distinct and real, bringing with them complete, lived histories, foibles, emotions and ambitions. Inevitably, there are conflicts and undercurrents, seductions, connivances and misunderstandings, leading to trouble and tragedy.

The action takes place in two locales — Roland’s country house in Amance and in Paris. The summer of artistic experimentation ends abruptly with a murder, blasting most of the characters back to Paris where they regroup into new configurations. Old entanglements cannot be ignored, however, and lead to further conflicts and alliances. A new character is introduced two-thirds of the way through the book — the bowler-hatted Harry Bellamy, lawyer and sometime investigator — who propels the action in unexpected directions. (Hats, by the way, appear frequently in this book, not surprising given the time period).

The making of art is the foundation of the plot, and it is present on nearly every page. The reader is privy to the artists’ thoughts and stands at their sides as they apply pencil to paper and paint to canvas. Colours (and this book is full of colour) are given the names found on tubes of paint — viridian, ochre, umber, titanium white, alizarin. The practicalities of art are at the forefront always, holding down firmly any tendencies toward windy gushing.

McCallum’s prose is sincere and idiosyncratic, bringing the tone of this 21st century work curiously close to the time in which it is set, the late 1800s. Scenes are built up from small details, finely rendered, working up to a wrenching climax and a final scene that is not without hope. It is not a fast read, but a rewarding one.

My rating: 9 out of 10 stars.

Triptych may be obtained in print or ebook form from, and a copy is available to users of the Greater Victoria Public Library.

Remaking a Perennial Border

I suspect most naive gardeners (even those with years of experience) think that a perennial bed or border, once made, is a done deal. Plants may come and go, but taking the whole thing apart and reconstituting it is unthinkable — sort of like rebuilding a house. But of course a perennial border is a collection of living things, so it’s bound to change. Over time, the tough and hardy plants muscle out the weak and fussy. Some inevitably become dominant in the picture, while others disappear.

Consider these two views of my back garden:

Back Garden, Fall 2010

Back Garden, Fall 2010


Back Garden, September 2015

Back Garden, September 2015


The same scene, obviously, but details are different. Some plants have grown bigger or more numerous, while others have declined or disappeared. Superficially, though, one could say it still looks fine, despite the addition of dog-excluding fences in the 2015 scene. But I know it was lusher, fuller and better-maintained five years ago.

I plan to retire from my job next spring. Near the top of my list of post-retirement projects is an overhaul of the garden, yanking it out of its present state of decline. Over the years I have whined about the effect of tree roots on perennial beds and vegetable patch (now the Ex-Veg Patch). I have vacillated between accepting the inevitable (substandard beds and borders in dry, rooty shade) or doing the heroic (and expensive) — tree removal.

Now I wonder if there is a third option — rebuilding the border. I remember reading a description of how English perennial borders (the ne plus ultra of this form of gardening) were taken apart, re-dug, enriched and replanted every few years. This was (still is?) a routine procedure, intended to keep the border at a peak of perfection.

Something like that — which I admit sounds pretty heroic, if less expensive — may be the answer, especially as I’ll have more time but less cash.

So, a plan is needed. What plants to dig up and return to refreshed, de-rooted soil. What plants to dig up and discard. What plants to leave in place because they are too difficult to dig up. And I have to decide just when all this digging is to take place. The usual seasons for planting and dividing perennials are spring and fall. A rough rule is to divide spring bloomers in fall, and summer and fall bloomers in spring. But I think this operation is best done in spring, or even earlier — mid-February to mid-March, which I think of as “pre-spring” here on the fortunate west coast. With some care I’ll be able to extract the plants to be kept with enough soil around the roots that they won’t even know what’s happened.

As for the final configuration of the beds, I’m considering fewer large and medium plants and more low groundcovers, such as variegated periwinkles, which are not as pushy and vigorous as the plain types. I’d like more hostas, but I’ve come to realize they really don’t do well in rooty soil. The only way I can grow them well is in pots. Therefore, a combination of large ferns (Dryopteris species) snuggled up to potted hostas (the ferns concealing the pots), with some white foxgloves in the background, and the stalwart hellebores, of course… Too many large plants already? Well, I’ll work it out.

The best gardens, of course, are those in the gardener’s imagination.

In the meantime, it’s reassuring that this small area near the pond, right now, looks a lot like this picture, also taken in 2010.

Hosta (in pot), with Hellebore and Cyclamen, Fall 2010

Hosta (in pot), with Hellebore and Cyclamen, Fall 2010

Keep on Writing by @JoRobinson176

Audrey Driscoll:

Some good thoughts on self-publishing to quell those late-night demons of doubt.

Originally posted on :

It’s easy to get daunted by the vast quantities of books published on Amazon every day, and also by some successful author’s suggestions that you shouldn’t be trying to charge for your books if your work has not been approved by legitimate traditional gatekeepers. Why bother putting in all the hard work of writing books if they’re just going to be buried by the millions, or trashed by the literati?

Why you should definitely bother is because of what self-publishing is. People who buy books from Amazon are fully aware that the vast majority of them are by Indie authors, and they’re going to be pretty sure that they want any given book before they pay for it. Not every book you write is going to be great. I never figured out what the point was to Stephen King’s The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon, so writing every book that…

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