gettin' there

If you've ever pulled your back into some miserable state then you'll know that the second day's worse than the first, but the third day is better than the second. That is, if you hang back and don't push your luck.

Hanging back does not come easy to me and indeed, when Ed asks if he can open and clean the coop this morning, I say a resounding "no!" (With a thank you.)

I realize then and there that not only do I not mind getting up with the sun to greet my cheepers, I rather enjoy it. True, the coop is not cleaned with great precision this morning, but I remind myself that many people would think it's rather bizarre to clean a coop daily anyway. And, too, I have the excuse of the weather. Neither the chickens nor I particularly like being whipped about by a cool wind with specs of rain. Again they look at me with disappointment as they sample the day's offerings. I'm sure they think that the wind, the gusts of showers are all my fault. (Here are the hens, gossiping about the weather...)






At breakfast...





...Ed and I talk about the day before us. No farmhouse cleaning. That gets postponed. How about outdoor work? We have half of the asparagus roots still to plant.

I think I am fit enough to give it a try.
You dig, I'll see if I can sit on the ground and cover the roots with soil.

Easier said. Still, awkwardly and rather slowly I put in the remaining plants. The hens are there of course, most likely thinking that we are all digging together for worms. Whitney follows the shovel closely and for a while Butter looks on...






But seeing that the worms are few and far between, she turns around and joins Scotch in a dirt bath instead.






They are truly a delightful little flock.

In the late afternoon, I visit with my daughter's cat Goldie (who loves to smell flowers...






...and fly between table and counter...)






And after, I give in to Ed's suggestion that we do another day of take out. Chinese this time.  It really feels odd not to be cooking for two days in a row, but you can only work a sore back so much in one day and if there's one thing that cooking requires, it is a lot of bending and twisting.

On the way home, I am rewarded with a terrific view of our great big cloudy sky. Honestly, it's as if you can see the wind patterns passing through.






At home, the girls rush over to greet me.





Ed soon follows, in a less sprightly fashion.

Yes, my dears, I'm feeling better. Another hour or two on a hard floor and I should be almost capable of moving without a wince or grumble.