Street number sign and doorbell re-affixed to fit new lamp

Little filing cabinets

Saturday task #1: putting these together for Angela's office.

Sun, glass, wire, gecko

Slowly but surely we are getting around to decorating the house.

Gentrification with Justice?

Joey deVilla picked up on my mention on my personal blog of an article by Bob Lupton on "Gentrification with Justice," which provoked Chris Taylor to raise a number of good questions.

Bob Lupton writes:

I have now seen first hand (yes, inadvertently participated in) the devastating impact that gentrification can have on the poor of an urban community. I have faced panicking families at my front door who had just been evicted from their homes, their meager belongings set out on the curb. I have helped them in their frantic search to find scarce affordable apartments and have collected donations to assist with rent and utility deposits.

But I have also seen what happens to the poor when the "gentry" do not return to the city. The effects of isolation are equally severe. A pathology creeps into a community when achieving neighbors depart - a disease born of isolation that depletes a work ethic, lowers aspirations and saps human initiative. I have seen courageous welfare mothers struggle in vain to save their children from the powerful undertow of the streets. I have witnessed the sinister forces of a drug culture as it ravages unchecked the lives of those who have few options for escape. Without the presence of strong, connected neighbor-leaders who have the best interests of the community at heart, a neglected neighborhood becomes a desperate dead-end place.

Chris Taylor asks:

What exactly does "gentrification with justice" (or one of its more intelligent sub-headings -- "Including the Poor in the Reclamation Process") mean at the nuts-and-bolts level? Don't buy that $450K condo near High Park, nor that $350K house in the Junction? Buy the property but rent it below-cost to a poorer family? Sell all your junk, move to the Holy Land, and give the proceeds to a poor family who aspires to one day live in the Junction?

How, following the "gentrification with justice" model, how can a future Junction, Liberty Village or Cabbagetown end up with nice neighbours, safe streets and so on, without displacing some people? And what level of displacement is okay vs. not okay? Not every struggling family is going to be able to afford to live in a gentrfying area, so what's the cutoff point... no hookers and dealers and 5% loss of low-income families? 10%? I agree with the concept in principle, but how does it translate into the whole scheme of neighborhood development?

These are good - necessary - questions to ask ... but they are difficult to answer. Locke Street is not by any means part of an impoverished neighbourhood - but it is a mixed-income neighbourhood, in which I guess we are close to the middle of the range. That means we are not part of gentrification in terms of our micro-neighbourhood. But in a city like Hamilton, there is much need for economic upliftment, and as citizens we share the responsibility for enabling that upliftment. But ... how?

Shalom

This greeting has been hanging at the front door of every one of the many homes in which Angela and I have lived since our wedding - for almost twenty years, that is. It symbolizes the dream we live together: to seek the shalom - the peace - and the prosperity of the city in which we are called to live. It is a dream we share with people like Katherine Leary and Linnea Leonard Kickasola, both of whom have written about city life in the journal of public opinion I edit.

New light at front door

Before

After

The old light had died. Now we must re-place the street number sign and the doorbell.

Shakespeare, somewhat recovered

We were going to see the Hamilton Urban Theatre's (free!) outdoor performance of The Taming of the Shrew on the rooftop of Jackson Square last night with friends, but due to the threat of rain the performance was cancelled. We stood around sheepishly in the garden for a bit, and then invited everyone to our home. By Angela's count we had something like seventeen people watching Twelfth Night on video, with another six or so talking in the kitchen. It was a pity to have missed the live play, but we enjoyed the conviviality in our home.

Happy

I'll say it again: I love the red walls, I love the wood floor, I love the little shelf lights, and I looooove my books. My guess is they are not worth much to anyone else: no rare editions, no significant resale value at a regular second-hand book store (my tastes are obscure and my interests more so), just stuff I like.

Digging

This ...


















... came out of this:

I know. It looks like nothing. But I was sheathed in sweat soon, and then worked many more hours, two nights in a row. The victory was sweet when I finally wrenched the root from the soil.

The constant gardener

Angela training the Baltic Ivy up the front of the house, after 11 p.m.

Why the Strauss women wanted a lawn in the back garden

I had lobbied for an all-stone back garden, but I lost the debate. The first of these photographs was spontaneous, during a gardening break; the second photograph is posed, with the sunburnt Strausslings (after a week of sun and surf, camping with their friends) only very briefly cheerful enough to be part of the picture.

Cherry tomato

Today I ate the first food out of our garden: a little cherry tomato from the same plant as these. We have not planted many vegetables, and if we do so in future years it will probably have to be integrated with the decorative and shade plants. The back garden is too small for a full-size vegetable garden and what we have growing in it at the moment.

Flower basket

Flower baskets abound in the back garden. This one currently lives just outside the back garden, on a trellis that Angela hopes will one day be covered in Morning glory, or something similar.

Perhaps my favourite window in the house

For a couple of weeks immediately after we bought the house, just as we came down the stairs, around the corner and into the red room, we could catch a framed glimpse out of this window of the apple tree in full blossom. It was a delightful view - what Christopher Alexander in his pattern #134 calls a zen view.

Angela catches Gideon leaving the building

I love the red room and our shelves of books. The little shelf lights are a cheap but brilliant IKEA solution by Angela. The room is less dark at night than it appears in the second picture.

Sunny spot at front door

Serenade and Chalumet (our two cats) love hanging out in this spot. Next to the red sofas this may be their favourite daytime spot. They also like sitting at the back door, watching the sparrow family soap opera, probably daydreaming of hunting. Most of the time their orange felt mouse is about as much prey as they are able to get in their paws.

Red sofa; work residue; cat, napping

The red sofas continue to be a favourite place in our new home. Angela has been preparing for the two singing workshops ("The Gift of African Song" and "Songs Around the Table") she is presenting at the Nidus festival during August 4-6. As is often the case, she will partly be drawing on songs from the Wild Goose Resource Group.

A row of African animal figurines above the fireplace

I was surprised and delighted by this perfect placement of mementoes that had in our previous house languished on the sill of a window. Angela captures and imaginatively surpasses the spirit of Alexander's pattern #254 ("Things from your life"): "Do not be tricked into believing that modern decor must be slick or psychedelic, or natural or modern art, or plants or anything else that current taste makers claim. It is most beautiful when it comes straight from your life - the things you care for, the things that tell your story."

Little stone pathway

Angela broadened the little stone pathway that goes to the north side gate of the back garden somewhat, and planted sweet alyssum along its edges. She also planted small sunflowers, but the Jacobin squirrels ate the flowers.

Lawnmowing

Weekly mowing of the lawn is a new ritual for me. I have much to learn about lawnmowing, despite a childhood of doing it regularly. Happily we have a tiny patch of grass in the back - planted by the wonderful Jack Zonneveld, father of our friend Krista, and mowed with the lawnmower of Sean Purcell, the husband of Krista. It's a Kristacentric lawn.