Month: April 2020

I was tired and pretty discouraged when I posted earlier. After I rested, I restarted the weed wacker and attacked inside the stone wall. Every time I stepped on a rock, I either tossed it way up in the upper pile or found a place for it on the wall. I am not as good a rock stacker as Son 1 or DIL, but there were low places and places where they were making the wall thicker and I concentrated on those areas. The lower part is now rock free or they are buried so deep I can’t feel them walking the area. The area was weed wacked shorter until I was sure there were no more.

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Totally bushed after moving rocks and dealing with the monster machine, I came in and prepared dinner for us. The day was too nice to sit inside. Bright sunny, clear skies, and warm, but not hot. Cool enough for a long sleeved cotton shirt for sun protection but too warm for the sweat shirt I started out in earlier. I have a roll of weed mat. I don’t know how much of that area it will cover or where I can get a load of leaf mulch or soil to fill behind the wall, but I would love to get some flowers and herbs growing in there this summer. To the left of the old deck pier will be patio eventually, so it isn’t getting planted.

After resting and nourishing my body, I took the hand hoe out and tackled the last garden box, a 4 X 8 foot one that is reasonable sound and will have the tomato plants in it in about 6 weeks. I pulled the few weeds that were in the blueberry bed beside it. When it was planted, the bushes were surrounded by many layers of newspaper and a 3 inch thick layer of shredded mulch applied over it, so it is easy to deal with. You can see the edge of the blueberry box under my shadow on the right.

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The back left corner of that bed was left unweeded because just as I was about to hack down into the soil, I pulled the weeds back from the edge of the box and found this.

There had been a tiny brown bird flitting around the garden even before I got over there, but I paid her little heed. Finding her tiny nest of eggs let me know why and I gently laid the still growing weeds back over her nest and left her alone. I hope she returns to the nest. The fledglings should be long gone before I am ready to plant that box.

Today ended up rather productive, though I am worn out now. A shower and a Tylenol are in order. Then I will settle with my spindles, knitting, or a book.

Today’s work has the garden ready for seeds and seedlings except for the corn patch and it is on the opposite side of the garden from the nest, so I don’t think I will disturb her too much. And I still need to cover the mint to at least try to slow it down. Another day, another day.

All my life I have been independent, self sufficient. My Dad insisted on that, no matter what I decided to do with my life. He taught me to do things that would make most women cringe or at least gave me the confidence to tackle the job without calling for help. I have removed, unclogged, and reset a toilet when Son 2 flushed a plastic toy. I have replaced a garbage disposal when it failed, installed deadbolts, replaced the battery in hubby’s Harley, helped son retrieve a part that fell down in the diesel engine of his truck where he couldn’t reach, run a plumbing snake under the kitchen sink after taking all the traps and pipes apart. Removed mice from traps, caught snakes to relocate, erected fencing, split firewood. Google has been a boon, you can find a video to do just about anything. But, it is getting harder for me to contort my body into cabinets or to lie on the cold concrete floor of the garage for any length of time anymore. My strength isn’t what it was, and after a broken wrist, wrist surgery years later on that wrist, there is no power in that hand any longer. This has caused me no small amount of frustration of late. Trying to take down and rebuild garden and chicken fencing totally overwhelmed me and I quit. I’M NOT A QUITTER. Trying to put the belt on the riding mower nearly brought me to tears, only to find out it was the wrong belt after conceding to help by my neighbor. He fought to get the belt on and it was so tight, the mower would not turn over. He removed the belt and the mower started right up. He and his wife are getting me a new, correct belt today and I will let him install it. With being confined to home doesn’t help my emotional state in dealing with these setbacks. I want to be able to do the things that I did 50 years ago, or even 5, but it is getting harder all the time. I am young for my age, strong for my age, but I am neither young enough nor strong enough to do some of the things I want to do, things I used to do. I hate asking for help. This morning after yesterday’s climbing over the washer and dryer, squatting and lying on the garage floor, yanking the pull cord on the mower, I am sore and yet, did not accomplish anything positive for it.

On a brighter note, today as I was about to prepare our lunch, along the edge of the woods at the very back of our property I spotted a black animal. Grabbing the binoculars that hang by the French doors, I could see that it was a young black bear, happily feasting on something it found. This isn’t a great picture because it was at least 250-300 yards away and I zoomed, cropped, and zoomed again. The little bear was small, probably a yearling. It has been several years since we have seen a bear up here.

After lunch, I drove the riding mower back up to the neighbors’ house and towed the gas mower. When I tried the gas mower at his house, it started right up even though it wouldn’t start at home. I left the riding mower and pulled the mower back to the house. I have mowed around the house, one mower width and mowed the actual front yard. I tackled the weed wacker and after about 25 pulls on the cord and almost giving up, it started and I edged around the house and wall in the back. I still want to get inside the wall and around the garden, but I wore out. I will finish the job later and finish mowing the rest of the yard when I get the riding mower back, so grateful to my neighbors.