I wanted to pull it out by the root but I was too weary to maneuver myself down to the ground and poke around in the hesperaloe. It was that kind of a day - fun mixed with discomfort. I was busy balancing the paradox .
I was a very busy person on Sunday. I don't think that I could have been busier. I was productive and purposeful and tended to myself and my home and my family. I did what needed to be done and I finished each task before I began another. I have a few new cuts and scrapes which make me very happy - I haven't done anything which could have cut or scraped me until Sunday. The tiny scratches are a physical manifestation of the progress I've made.
I have to keep thinking of these things. I need a distraction. My leg hurts. Bending brings more than a twinge to my glute and my quads and my soul. The weed in the basket below?
I got the petunias into the pots.
I moved the irrigation tubing into the pots.
I moved the river rocks out of the way and I moved the pot closer to the pillar.
It was heavy.
I put the rocks back.
And then I did it all again with another pot.
By the time they were in place I didn't have the energy to cover up the extra tubing.
I'm planting and that's a good thing.
I'm leaving one piece unfinished, and that's annoying.
The paradox doesn't get any more comfortable.
But the yellow stripe in these black petunias can certainly make me smile.
Taking off my gloves and feeling the warmth of the potting soil as I separate the transplant's roots and lay them gently but firmly out to the sides makes me grin.
I'm almost happy enough to ignore the sharp stabbing in my hip.
I switched out the hanging basket, hopeful that this variety of million bells will withstand the sun and the wind.
The portulaca (below) was the previous tenant of that space but since it now looks like Medusa's head
I'm happier with it in a less conspicuous spot.
Something, or somethings, are growing in the 4th container.
I know not what they are, but, in keeping with my resolution to nurture volunteers, I decided not to plant over them.
Instead, I put the rest of the petunias in the front courtyard.
I'm taking a chance with an Arabian Jasmine.
The label says it blooms from June through September.
I have white sweet smelling buds right now.
It's November........ I'm just sayin'......
I got Concert Pal's final succulent into the ground, and cannibalized some existing irrigation to get it started.
That's not amended soil; it's worm castings.
Yup, worm poop.
It's a natural fertilizer, has no odor, is easy to apply, and is brought to the Master Gardeners by the purveyors every Fall and spring. It's supposed to be watered in, but the clouds were rolling in and my hip was telling me that dragging the hose was out of the question.
I decided to listen to it.
I rearranged the scarecrows, taking away the pumpkin heads and making them more Thanksgiving appropriate. The rain last week had smooshed them and flattened them.
They needed some TLC.
And then I put away the Halloween decorations and took out the Thanksgiving boxes and distributed their contents around the house. I took the emptied boxes back out to the garage, put them in the closet and closed the doors.
Those doors have not been shut since December, 2010.
I'm making progress.
Even if it hurts.