Thursday

And it's back to David, the PT head that put me on the course of knee functionality some two and a half weeks ago. Ed laughs at my pre-appointment mad dash through the exercises. Competitive, aren't we...

David is pretty impressed. Only one degree off on the straight leg challenge and seven more degrees added to the bend. Nevertheless, there is a tsk tsk about him: you're not working your quads on the knee. It's loose still. You need to tighten it. 

I find this to be challenging: I can't tighten something I can't feel! -- I protest. Sure you can. He concocts yet another exercise, though he admits I have too many on my plate. I tell him the balancing one can be scratched since I am a balance superstar (there I am, bragging again!). He laughs and says -- I was at an orthopedic workshop last week and they made me be the guinea pig. (David is very fit, so I think that was an unfair model to work with, but oh well...) I had to balance, then stand on one leg, then walk along a straight line. Easy, until they told me to close my eyes (I nod, knowingly -- I did this, pre-surgery, all the time!). Then they told me to count backwards from 100 by the count of 7. (Gulp!) So, my exercise for you -- stand on your one leg for thirty seconds, with eyes closed and count backwards from 100 by 7s. (Oh! The stinker!)

David suggests that I do challenging balance exercises all my life. If one becomes too easy, throw on another sensory twist. It's a great way to ensure continued stability as you age.

All this happened after a busy morning resting with the ice pack machine running! I've been under-icing the knee, thinking that it looks so unswollen that I should be done with that apparatus, but no -- the surgical center nurse told me to keep at it, and David agreed. The swelling has abated, but much of it is inside and icing helps. Besides, I've been missing my naps!

The walk to the barn is a tiny bit late.

It still feels chilly to me, so breakfast is in the kitchen.

And then I had those hours of therapy, followed by farmette bird listening, and slowly beginning an exploration of watching for them too. And here's the thing -- by weird coincidence (is it coincidence, or is it that we are all discovering nature in a new way this year?), the Washington Post has an article today (I'll put up the link here, but I think they are stingy with permitting public access) titled "Why Birds and their Songs are Good for our Mental Health." It appears that seeing or hearing birds reduces mental fatigue and stress. The recommendation? "Be aware (don't take them for granted)... be curious (get the apps that help you identify them! check!)... be involved (backyard is fine, but maybe you can find a birding group?) ... be present ("birdwatchers who paid attention to the joy they felt for each bird reported greater mental health benefits than those who merely counted the birds they saw.") I do not count. And at this stage at least, every  time a new bird appears, I feel a thrill of the unexpected, the sublime. (This morning three newbies popped up on my app: an Eastern Wood-Pewee, a Common Yellowthroat and a Least Flycatcher!)

In the afternoon I bring Snowdrop to the farmette. She picks some asparagus, but is no longer enthusiastic about eating it raw, from the ground (I agree -- the stalk was too thick for that).

But she is very excited to see my bird spotting phone app. We hear an Indigo Bunting -- a lovely bird with deep blue feathers. And she is enchanted with the simplest of them all -- a Field Sparrow. 

Be aware, be curious...

And in the evening, after returning the girl home, I stop by for our first Community Supported Agriculture box of the season. Among loads of other goodies, we get... more rhubarb! Ed had given away most of ours to some of the vendors at our Fitchburg Market today. I guess I'll need to bake another cake soon. A good thing since yesterday's is all gone. 

with love...