My morning thought -- nothing like an enthusiastic PT assistant to set you straight! (Yes, pun intended.)
It was a bright and promising start to the week. I woke early, as usual, slept too little, as usual, got up before Ed, as usual. I thought I might attempt to resume animal duty. Not that Ed minds filling in for me after my surgery, but honestly, what's harder - fixing a nice meal for the entire family or walking to the barn to deal with six sprightly hens and a handful of enthusiastic cats?
Besides, it's so lovely early in the morning!
My enthusiasm for a return to normal was premature. Lifting benches, moving buckets -- all these were a challenge. I managed, but tomorrow, Ed can have his subbing. I need more time.
Breakfast -- indoors, because it's a bit chilly out there.
Now comes my appointment with the PT who assists David in keeping me on a good course to recovery. His assessment? You're doing too much. Your night pain should tell you that. Can't sleep? Cut back. Work the 15 - 15 rule. [The 15 - 15 rule sucks. No one could live like that: you rest for 15 mins, then you do your stuff for 15, then you rest for 15, and so on. Nuts. No way am I going to follow that.]
But then he focuses on the knee: I was 10 degrees off straight last time, this time I'm only 4 degrees off. And the bend has increased. He tells me -- people who had this surgery on the same day as you would be thrilled to be halfway where you are! Then he zaps on to my stapled list of exercises yet another one -- this one to practice balancing, never mind that my balance before surgery and post surgery, as demonstrated in his exam room is non pareil! I mean, I may not hang well from monkey bars, I could never do a split nor a cartwheel and I could only just stand on my head when I was young, but balance? It's my super skill!
Still, I go home with exercise number 16 added to the booklet of others. And the admonition to cut back on fun stuff.
I do, for the most part, listen to all the PT people because presumably they know more about fake knees made of titanium and plastic than I do. But the 15-15 rule is going to have to be tabled. I'll come up with a workaround.
The day is somewhat unusual in that Snowdrop is under the weather and therefore at home. Ed has plowed a huge swath of weedy land in the new peach orchard and so I start in on the seeding. The trick here is to keep the chickens off the fresh dirt. I honestly dont think we'll succeed in this, but we're giving it a go.
We walk the farmette lands, admiring the peas, the two year old nut and maple, the new orchard, the meadow there. Ed points to the profusion of quack grass, but I shrug off his concerns. I've learnt that creating meadows out of clay soil that is full of weeds and invasive grasses is a never ending project. You have to be really patient and be prepared for setbacks. Last year's meadows were really lovely (in my view). I'm sure this year's will be different, but just as beautiful.
As we walk back, very slowly (because I am still so so slow in my gait), I point out an edge that needs a quick mow. He takes out the machine and cleans up the pathway. I order more seeds, he takes out more quack grass. Perhaps you see this in my Ocean posts, but it bears saying nonetheless -- he and I are a fantastic team out in the fields, meadows, patches of fruits and veggies. We have our own tasks, but it's grand when they physically overlap and we work side by side, improving, digging, planting.
Oh yeah, I did rest. In a chunk, in midday. I'm sure not to the standards of the PT department, but it is May and the day is lovely, darn it, and there's work to be done.
