May 31, 2023
It’s the last day of May! Time
is moving way too fast, these days. But the fact that I’ve heard that very
sentiment from several people over the last few weeks lets me know that I’m not
alone.
However—and also a fact—most of
the people who’ve expressed that same view are my age or older. This lets me
know exactly what category of human I now have fully and completely fallen
into: senior citizen.
Yeah, yeah, you’re only as old
as you feel and blah, blah, blah. That is as true a saying as ever there was.
Friends, over the last couple of weeks I’ve been feeling very old, indeed.
My emotions go in this
direction, generally speaking, when I am in the midst of a particularly long
arthritic flare up. It is what it is, and while I tend to keep my sense of
humor regardless of the level of my personal discomfort, that sense of humor can
tend to slide toward the gallows side of things after a time. Enough of that.
Our walnut tree has shed its
whatever the hell they are green crumbly things and is now in full leaf. David used
his leaf blower to get all that debris off our porch, the porch steps, and
sidewalk. It took him a bit of effort, but not much, and the difference is
dramatic.
May has been an especially
busy month for us. Between us, we had 5 medical appointments, four of them within
a single two-week period. That seems to be the way things happen now,
everything getting all bunched up together. The only problem with that, of
course, is that I don’t like it when things happen that way. Having to go out
two days in a row or, Heaven Help me, three days in one week? That’s my
new personal definition of horrendous.
The history books will, I
hope, tell of all the ways in which that damn pandemic has done a number on all
of us. I’m hoping someone writes a chapter on the difficulties, not only of going
from busy to hermit-like, but the reverse process as well.
As one gets older, many things
change within oneself. Activities of any kind which only yesterday were done
with ease, now take much more effort. And adaptation to change is also a very
much longer process.
There is one thing, however,
that I would like to make clear. I have tended toward hermit-like behaviour for
some time now—yes, I mean even before the pandemic. And I am guilty of,
(pre-pandemic) having voiced the thought that I would appreciate having a good
chunk of time when I didn’t have to go anywhere or do anything or see anyone.
But that does not mean that I
willed the last three years into being.
No, what happened next after
those muttered words just reinforced that age-old saw, “be careful what you
wish for.” I want to acknowledge to the cosmos that I have been so warned. I
will do my best in the future to wish more carefully. Unless I don’t.
We’ve replanted the green bean
seeds that were planted when David put together the table gardens, because over
the course of more than two weeks, there were no sprouts. Since there were also
no signs of incursion from the local chipmunks and squirrels, he decided the
package of seeds must have been “bad”. The seeds he replanted must have been very
good and very tasty because the day after he put them in, the critters ate
them. He’s considering a third planting. I’ll keep y’all in the loop.
He’s also bought seven tomato
plants that were at a local garden center that he claimed looked really good. One
of the types of plant he bought purports to produce “4-pound” tomatoes. When he
told me that, I immediately imagined the honking big “stuffed” tomato I could
make for supper. I’d serve it on the meat platter, and we’d all have a good-sized
portion! Be proud of me, my friends. I didn’t roll my eyes at his claim—at least,
not literally.
Meanwhile, I’m a happy camper,
for the most part. I have a few sprigs from my now fully blooming lilacs on my
desk. No, they don’t last long, but the smell very sweet. And yes, I’ve managed
to get a few still blooming lilies-of-the-valley shoved in there, too.
They’re the image of springtime
that I have carried with me since my childhood. And I don’t see that changing
anytime soon.
Love,
Morgan
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
No comments:
Post a Comment