Sunday, May 29, 2022

Daily Notes- Sunday, May 29th. Sunshine. Very Warm, I think, in the hours ahead.


 This image seems to express the wonder of Spring becoming Summer.

My tomato plants get moved to the left and to the right.  To catch a breeze. To get Sun. To then rest in a shady spot.  I am doing the same.  Catching a breeze.  Resting in a shady spot.  Moving from spot to spot. Haven't done any Sun. Might not this year.

George was here yesterday for a few minutes to plant another few rows of corn, pick radishes for me- a handful- and then leave.  He put an ad in the Harpswell paper and got three calls  immediately--homeowners wanting to talk to him about garden work.  He'll charge 30 dollars an hour.  I forgot what my friend in Harpswell is paying her neighbor to work in her garden while her --now- robotic shoulder heals from replacement surgery.

People I know are getting old.  Getting replacement parts. Health Insurance makes it possible.

We- husband and I- went out yesterday and picked up a prescription and then bought bird seed.  Two very large heavy bags of black oil sunflower seeds. For the bird feeders.  I carried them into the house from the car. And emptied one into the small metal garbage can we use for seeds to keep the mice off the porch.  These are things my husband can no longer do - without back pain for days or weeks after lifting anything.  It took me ten minutes.  I'm not bragging.  I can do things for a short period of time. Ten minutes.  Then not do things for longer periods of time.  Like reading. Or wondering where I put something.

Expenditure of energy is a calculation I make. Always have. As I get older- it's best to calculate energy use before doing anything and deciding if it's worth doing.........at times, it isn't.  And then I let that thing go..... like canning pickles.  I just can't do it.  So......if I make pickles- they will go in the fridge- they won't go into the hot water bath.  And...really..husband no longer eats pickles.

Like rhubarb.  We don't need to be eating a large rhubarb pie (and would husband actually eat any?).  and the time to stand and make the crust and filling without rest periods????? I just see the value of it physically.  

Did I mention husband refuses to go to Dairy Queen.   For the first summer ever- there will be no ice cream. 

In an aside that is actually quite surprising and funny- all the seed from the packages in the hall closet-  years old- that I opened and tossed into the compost piles???  They germinated.  The ones I plant in the garden hardly ever come up that fast....but in the compost bin--- next day it seems.  Small Joys.

3 comments:

Paula, the quilter said...

Maybe the heat from the compost might have something to do with it? I need to start a new pile. I haven't had one in several years: I've been blending the scraps and using the result as tea for the garden.

Anonymous said...

Such moving reflections on aging! Dee here

Deb Lacativa said...

Go to DQ without him. Take pictures. Tell him how delicious it was.