restingmotion

Five Things Friday

1. The first solitary fava bean is poking his head up through the earth.  Hopefully he is merely one among many.

2. There is precedence for this hope, as the first solitary cherry blossom appeared a week ago now.  She will probably fade before other blossoms fully emerge, but there are enough new buds that this fledgling tree will put up a small show; it is more than I expected in this, its first spring.

3. I also finally got the pea trellis up, just in the nick of time as the peas tendrils are long enough to start climbing.  I ordered this trellis from Gardener’s Supply and it was not difficult to assemble, even though the directions did say it would be easier for two.  It would have been.  And, had I not been experiencing increasing back spasms as i worked on it, it would have been more symmetrical and perfectly balanced.  But it works.  And I am grateful.

Originally I hoped to build my own trellises, but I also realized — when I planted peas days before leaving, when I had a busy social calendar before we all began sheltering in place, before I fell and injured my back — that I would not have time.  I picked this trellis primarily because it looks much like the trellises I made from copper plumbing pipe for my garden in Hyde Park.  Those were all given away when I moved to Tennessee and a condo, as was my pipe cutter and my soldering equipment.  Hopefully this will last at least a season, perhaps even two or more, and by then, if I have regained my gardening abilities, I will set up soldering shop again.

4. The peas will also need some thinning out, although not too much.  I seem to remember that peas are more productive when they are not too widely spaced.  Anyway, I did harvest a handful of shoots to add to my salad at lunch today.

5.  I am recovering since my fall and am doing more, but am still working slowly.  Yesterday, working on the trellis, I realized that although I am moving so much better, although still quite slowly, I cannot stretch, even my arm to anything beyond a casual reach.  Any stretch, from any position really sends me into spasms, as did fastening clips anchoring netting to the trellis frame, if not very close to the body.  Today I am taking it easy and not allowing myself in the garden even though it is a beautiful day and I keep telling myself I can just do a little bit.  Instead I am working on short core-strengthening and light stretching workouts, interspersed through the day with rests and chores.  And I have knitting and reading materials piled up by my comfy spot on the sofa. I do have other posts in mind, things I want to write about, but today is the first day I have been able to sit at a desk for more than 10 minutes or so, and somehow assembling longer thoughts into something coherent does not appear to be something I can do from a cozy corner of the sofa — I need the harder discipline of a desk and chair. 

 

Stay safe....

 

 

In the Pink

Surprise, Surprise!  

I finished the pink sweater and have actually been able to wear it, more than once even.  And yes, I still love these ambiguous photos, where as much is left to the imagination as is revealed.  That might change if I ever find unpack my tripod and am able take project photos again without relying on selfies.

 

Last you heard, nearly a month ago now, I had assembled the sweater and was working on the cowl, in fact had just ripped and restarted.  If at first I had failed to put a twist in the cowl, the second attempt was also faulty in that I put in a full-twist rather than a half-twist.  I can live with that.  In my life it seems dyslexia always rears its head, and sometimes it is best simply to accept and move on.

In fact, I adore this sweater and can see that it will get frequent wear.  I have worn it as a jacket on cool days, in the low 50s, when it was cloudy and brisk outside, and I have worn it in the house as well on chill evenings mostly because I intentionally keep the house cool.  I would always rather put on a sweater than risk being too warm, and, loving knitting as I do, cannot imagine not having sweaters to cuddle up into.

 

I will post the details on the knitting blog later, based on the assumption that most readers here are not interested in the details.  Of course considering how rarely I have posted on the knitting blog, that may be a waste of time as well.  Feel free to tell me if you disagree.

 

 

The View From Here

Somewhere I stopped thinking about blogging.  Just living my life, contentedly at that, never intending to stop, just not really thinking about it one way or the other. I am still just living my life, and still rather contentedly even though that life is somewhat different now that society has hit pause.  And so it seems I cannot really explain why I stopped, or why I am here, writing again.

Instead I will show some pictures of the garden, signs of new growth, signs of things that need to be done, and may or may not be done at that.  Somehow the pause is reminding me that life and the world will go on whatever we think of it.

I planted peas, perhaps late for Tennessee, at the very end of February, before going on a trip.  I planted fava beans as well, after I returned, in mid March, only because I couldn’t find them locally and had to order them, perhaps also too late for Tennessee.  But at the price of a pack of seeds, it seems better to try than to do nothing.  The peas are up.  And I have materials to assemble a trellis for them to climb.  That was my goal for yesterday, and for today, but well, that is on hold at the moment.

Yesterday I was digging holes to plant three baby gem boxwoods when I got a little over-ambitious, did something stupid, and fell, hard, on my bottom.  I lay on the ground a few minutes, admiring the new blossoms on the blueberry shrub, shown above, before getting myself upright and realizing I would not finishing planting shrubs that day.

A kind neighbor planted the shrubs for me.  It took him about 15 minutes.  It took me that long to walk out the front door and drag the hose up for him to water the newly planted shrubs.  Today I am still moving stiffly, and am currently nestled in a pile of cushions on the sofa, where I will probably spend much of the day.  I cannot stand, or bend over well, I can walk slowly and need to do that often. The pain is muscular, not sciatic, and I will recover.  A pea trellis will probably not be built today, but I will get two boston ferns transferred from pots into the planters by the front door.  If I do anything else, it probably be walking behind a mower, but since it is raining now, that too is a task that may be put off for another day.

I can knit.  I am working on a prayer shawl, and a pair of socks (above). The yarn is Lichen and Lace in the color Citron.  I love the happy yellow green color, a color I have always loved combined with purples and blues.

Here is a small itch peony starting to show its leaves.  I am inclined to think this spot is too shady, that it may need to be moved.  That may not happen this year. The digging in the garden is going to be harder than I had hoped.  Despite the specification that the new beds all be filled with 10” of topsoil without rocks, that topsoil is mostly clay and heavy, and it is filled with rocks.  The landscape crew had a great talent for coming to work on days I was not home.  The area I dug yesterday was solid gravel 5 inches below the soil, part of the difficulty with planting shrubs.  I hauled  two large buckets of gravel with some clay to a low spot in the slope at the back of the yard before I took my tumble.  I can dig through even packed good soil, but through clay, especially clay studded with rock, it will be a more ambitious project.  I am tired of ambitious projects, but I am also determined, and tired of paying people to not do what I specified.  

The worst thing that can happen is I will have fields of weeds.  Weeds which will have to be pulled and turned into compost or turned under.  Time will help the soil. And despite my anger and frustration at things that were not done, plants that are not in the right spots, human failings, I am also touched by unexpected human kindnesses.  A person I do not know offering to plant my shrubs.  All of this seems appropriate to this time.  There will be setbacks and loss, but there will also be coming together and kindness.  

No point in mourning that which is past or gone.  This plot of land will still be here.  Nature will prevail, whatever I do or do not manage.  And there will always be surprises. For example  I love the colors the rain has created on this paver.  

I love that the camellias are showing the lushest bloom I have seen since buying this house. I love that the azaleas I bought last spring are all leafing out and showing buds, that life goes on, and that people carry on.  The world reminds us that through every struggle, every winter, there will be a spring.

 

I leave you with this, one of the first blossoms on the flowering crabapple off the back deck.  I hope you and yours are safe.  I hope you find peace and joy, not isolation and fear.  If you can take a moment, let me know how you are doing.  We are all molecules in a great social network or web.  Let’s keep these fragile chains alive.