May 22, 2024
Well, we were having a
traditional spring – until this week happened. To progress, over the course of
a single day, from nicely mild temperatures to soul-sucking breath-stealing
heat and humidity has been quite a shock.
There is a mystery I cannot
solve with regard to the weather and my arthritis, and it is this: when faced
with weather that I know will exacerbate my condition, I do all I can to avoid
exposing myself to same. I stay indoors, protect my legs, and yet, the weather
eats through all my protective measures anyway. I do know that the discomfort
would be much, much worse if I went out into the chill, damp air—or the hot,
sticky damp air. So I continue to hope that I’ll be able to avoid the
weather-affect, despite all the evidence I have amassed to the contrary.
I’m coming to be of the
opinion that it’s not exposure to the elements, per se, that sets off my pain
alarms. Perhaps it’s those invisible-to-the-eyes factors like barometric
pressure that’s the culprit.
Ah, well, just one more
question to ask the Lord when I get there.
We made the decision this
year, heading from spring into summer, that we needed to get some help with the
yard work. After discussions and negotiations, it has been settled that two of
our great-grandchildren—our daughter’s grandkids—will be earning some spending
money. The soon to be 11-year-old will cut the grass; and the soon to be 10-year-old
will attend the gardens. The kids are eager to earn money, and we are
interested in teaching them that earning your way is the way to go in life. We’ll
see how that works out. But they had their first work shift this past Saturday—and
from all accounts it went well.
This past weekend was the
Victoria Day weekend here in Canada. Yes, we still celebrate the birthday of
that particular queen. The celebrations here in our area aren’t as prominent as
they used to be. There used to be massive fireworks displays in many
communities along with the usual carnival-like atmosphere one might expect with
rides and games and junk food. But I’ve noticed that over the last few years,
those fireworks displays have lifted their dusty, eighteen-hundreds styled skirts
and trotted some forty-odd days further along the calendar year, landing on
July 1, which is Canada Day.
I’m fine with that. I no
longer head outside to actually witness huge displays of the shiny and the pretty
and the loud. We did that very thing every year we had small children at home.
They loved those occasions, and we never would have dreamed of not going. But
those days are gone, and I don’t miss them all that much.
As it is now, with two days
that have fireworks in the spring-summer, that’s two days we here in the Ashbury
household need to coddle our two youngest dogs. Each year, in May and at the
first of July, there are folks in our neighborhood who light off fireworks. We
can’t see them, but we can hear them. And yes, like their father, Mr. Tuffy
before them, Bear-Bear and Missy abhor the sound and the scent of fireworks.
They shiver and quiver uncontrollably. It’s tragic to witness.
We have a thunder shirt for
Bear-Bear, but we don’t have one yet for Missy. Primarily because this year is
the first time that Missy has shown pyrotechnic anxiety. We may have to get
one, though. We’ll see. And for those who wonder, a thunder shirt is a garment
that can be made to fit nice and snug, to give the dog a sense of security. It
does work, and when wearing it Bear-Bear is noticeably less stressed.
Ahead of the traditional planting
weekend of Victoria Day, daddy and daughter headed out to get soil to top up
the beds, as well as a few other necessities for planting. I can therefore
announce, that our veggie gardens are planted! We have tomatoes, green beans,
and a couple of squash. Jennifer bought some watermelon plants to go in the kid’s
gardens which will be on the south side of our house. That is the only place we
have that gets full sun for most of the day. In the past, they’ve had flowers
and a couple of cherry tomatoes there. But they don’t really like cherry
tomatoes. Daughter thought they might tend the plants more diligently if they
produced something they really liked to eat.
I’ll take some photos of those
wonderful box gardens of ours, by and by. At the moment, I am letting the
ongoing drama of farmer versus critters play out. Long story short, my beloved
second-guessed his decisions, worrying that he may have given those green beans
too long in the cow pots indoors before planting them, and has been poking some
seeds into various places in the box gardens, hedging his bet as it were
against the later-than-last-year’s February start.
And those critters are so
delighted the man of the house is playing hide-and-seek the seeds again. I just
can’t tell you what a delight this all is.
I really can’t.
Love,
Morgan
https://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
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