Monday, April 7, 2014

I Dug a Hole

It may not sound like much, but, to me, it was earth-shattering.

No pun intended.  Really.

The fact that I could lift the shovel out of the rack and carry it, without assistance, to the front of the house was remarkable in and of itself.  Last year, I used G'ma's transporter wheelchair as my garden cart and my ambulation assistive device.  I couldn't propel myself and the equipment I needed without a great deal of help.  Since humans were not always available, I used what was at hand. It was a measure of how far she'd fallen that G'ma didn't even chuckle when I described the scene to her last year.

Trust me, it was both practical and very funny.

This weekend, though, I was the picture of strength and ability.  I carried a twenty pound bag of approved-for-roses-soil to the first hole, in the back, and I only had to rest once.  By the time I'd amended the soil and added more to the filling in of the hole, I had lightened the load sufficiently to enable me to tote it to the courtyard in the front of the house.... except the dolly was calling to me and I wanted to save my strength for digging so I loaded up the four wheeled assistant and pushed it around to the planting area.
Last year, I couldn't have bent over and moved anything.  Had I tried, I fear that I would never have stood erect again.  This year, using my hamstrings and my back to push, I careened around the corner of the garage with a huge grin on my face.

I like it when progress smacks me in the face.

It took two trips to gather everything
in one place, and I was aided by the fact that there was irrigation near each of the sites.  The soil is easier to move when it's moistened; dry, it's practically impermeable by mortal woman.  Still, I stood upright and used both legs to support the lifting and scooping and dumping of dirt.

This was a dream last planting season.

I took lots of breaks.... celebrating the moment... catching my breath... easing the aches in my glutes and my adductors and my erectors.... recognizing it for what it was - real work.  I was conscious of my strengths and weaknesses, but I accomplished the task without catering to them.  I rested more often than I might have before I was perforated, but I had such a pretty water bottle
 and such a lovely view
that it was almost like visiting a living gallery.  I wax poetic, but you'll have to forgive me.  I was in a mood.

The roses are planted and irrigated and fertilized.  Future plantings may be in the works if I manage to keep these babies alive through the summertime.  For now, I'm done for the season.  I have post-installation-manicure scheduled for Monday afternoon.  My hands, as well as my back and my hip and my self, deserve a break.

They look as wonderful as I feel.

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