I think I'm losing the battle but winning the race. Or maybe it's the race that's lost but the war that is won? Here's the reality: our last potential for frost appears to be -- Wednesday morning. That's exactly a day too late for me. It means that none of the annuals can go in until then. It means that I'll have to keep all the baby flowers and blooming baskets in the mudroom until I come home with a new knee and then someone else will have to bend down and put in score of little plants in sweet, perfect arrangements because honestly, I don't think I'm going to be capable of doing that in the next several weeks.
Of course, in working with nature, you must adjust your expectations. You plan on X, then Y happens. So, I can't fill the tubs today. Fine. I have plenty of other outdoor work: I got the replacement bare roots for the ones that failed (due to the premature shipment). In they go. I fertilize (with a lot of guilt) lightly (and only once a year) some of my day lilies. The old ones need a boost. And, there are the never ending weeds. Add to it a flock of chickens that are out to destroy every plant I ever put in (during this season it's really hard to love free ranging chickens in your garden!) and repairs that are constantly needed to newly exposed roots (grrr!) -- and my morning is very very full. Even without planting the annuals.
Yes, there's the walk to feed the animals...
Yes, there's breakfast...
Yes, there's another laundry load to work through...
But mainly, I do work outside. While I can!
In the afternoon I pick up Snowdrop. We pause at the Pond by her school to watch that magical sights of the white pelican migration. Last year they stopped here on May 6th. Why are they here in April? Are they hoping for warmer temperatures? Us too!
I take Snowdrop then with me to my mom's place. I want to install a new and better phone at her assisted living home and Snowdrop always likes to tag along on these errands. I haven't posted a pic of my 99.5 year old mom in a while. Here she is, with her great granddaughter:
My mom likes to give gifts when the great grandkids stop by. Today she handed over a portable radio that she no longer uses. I protested to high heaven. A radio is such a device of our youth, so unfamiliar to this younger generations. But, Snowdrop is mildly interested. Maybe I'll take it to show and tell in school! -- she tells me.
At the farmhouse, we settle into a routine that surely will change in a few days.
It's all, of course, a mystery to me -- what I'll be able to do and when I can resume a normal schedule -- so I am preparing for the possibility of not being able to do anything at all. I posed this question for myself: if I can't walk or bend or twist and turn starting Wednesday, what should I do now that I wont be able to do then? The list is long! I'm surprised at how much my day depends on my ability to move around!
Evening: an easy supper of leftover, lots of chocolate, lots of lovely moments on the couch. Now that wont change! And that's such a nice thought...
