Howdy from the dowdy, y’all.  Well, I finally got disgusted enough with my garden in ruins due to the prolonged visit (6 months!!!)  to Michigan, from New Year’s Day to 4th of July, of that biatch of a year that was, what?, 2 years ago?  No, one year ago, right?  O, heck, I can’t remember the year and don’t care.   But I have been caring about the disheveled appearance of my once-beautifully appointed gardens.   I’ve recently hoisted my pitchfork, shovel and pruners and attacked the first of 2 garden plots about 25 feet from the front door.   Next, I went after, with vengeance, the middle, smaller garden plot where the Trumpet vine took over the pole with a bird house on top.  I have a love/hate relationship with this vine.  On the one hand, it’s beautiful when covered with orange trumpet-shaped flowers that cluster at the ends of the many off-shoots.  Since the majority of the vine sits atop the birdhouse, all the off-shoots hang down to the ground like a willow tree, so in that sense I love it.  However, I hate that it’s invasive.  It totally took over my rock garden and is slowly destroying the rock wall it’s tendrils are snaking through!!!  A number of huge rocks came loose and crashed down on my flower bed in front of the rock wall.  Grrrr.  The huge rocks came down on my plants and well, you know the rest of the story.   The rock garden has looked like a monster with thousands of Lamb’s Ears, 4-5 feet tall, marching up the slope to the top of the rock garden where there are a number of ugly-*ss, tall, spiked, tree-looking mutants of nature.  There’s so many hours of work to do there if I want to return it to its former beautiful radiant self.  So I’m choosing to ignore that humongus task for as long as I can and just concentrate with the garden plots in front of the house.   I can’t believe I’ve waited this long to tackle these out-door chores, but you all know that time has been alloted towards meaningul and necessary activities.   I’m trying to take it slow, an hour or so a day; all the stretching, leaning, pulling, pushing, tamping, spreading, have left me really stiff and sore until the next day, then it starts all over again?

So I messed up my right hip several weeks ago.  I went out to dig all the weeds and teeny trees in the 3 raised flower beds on the small berm, right side of house (looking at house from the main road).  Apparently, I forgot to look in the mirror before I went out to do this horrendous job, if I had, I would have been reminded that I’m an olde raisin now.  Unfortunately, I went outside and worked like I used to in my more youthful days.  I hadn’t done any warm-up stretches before tackling the job (who does this anyway..?) so instead I went at it like a cold call.   The flower beds are raised about 1 and 1/2 to 2 feet.  Picture this, if you will; a ballerina at the studio, at the bar, looking at herself in the wall of mirrors, foot up on the bar, then leans in and touches her head on the top of her knee.   Got that?   That’s about the position I was at for about 2 hours.  One foot on the ground while the other was up in the raised bed and me pulling stuff from places at the back of the bed beyond my foot, leaning in and skwering my hip.  Yup.   I should have known better.  I  hurt my right hip to the point I should have gone to my doctor.   I just couldn’t hack seeing his face get worked up and yelling, “..what the ‘ell were you thinkin’, Janet?!!  That you’re a circus trapeze artist or something.  O, my Lord, girl.. I don’t know what we’re gonna do with you…blah, blah, blah.”  Don’t get me wrong, I love my doctor and wouldn’t want to see anyone but him, but I shall never forget his face nor the abject horror of seeing my right foot’s bunion and misshaped big toe under my index toe: “..OMG!  OMG! Janet!  That’s the worst foot I’ve seen in practice!! OMG!  OMG!  (to the 10th power). “  So you can see my point, right?  I mean, I’ve had bursitis of the trochanter (sp?), both hips and really should have thought of a better way to weed the beds.  sigh……

Just thought you should know…