potted plants

I was in a foul mood… a mixture of depressed and anxiety sent me to my emergency med which then left me listless and still cranky. Despite my feeling of affection for the sofa, I dragged myself outside for some garden cleanup. A hawthorne spike imbedded itself in my finger. I decided that the leaf litter was a good mulch and shouldn’t be cleaned up too much.

Little green spikes were pushing their way through the mess - hostas are hardy. The peonies are a few inches high, and the lillies are pushing their green heads out of the soil as well. We are at least a week behind other springs.

I didn’t totally give up though - we had purchased 2 small cedars for the big pots on the back deck and they needed to be planted. My little trowel was no match for the giant rocks we had buried in the pots - why? I gave myself a bit of a pep talk and unearthed the boulders. After the removal there wasn’t enough soil so I got a big bucket and headed to the manure pile, shovel in hand. How could a bucket of earth weigh so much? More pep talk and I got it up to the deck. I was winning over the lethargy of the meds. A herculean task. Not the planting, but overcoming the fatigue.

Finally it was done.

I brought Grace outside and settled down in the chair beside her. Gradually I could feel the strength of Nature around me easing my mood. A robin sang in the nearby tree, waiting for us to clear the deck so it could get to its nest - it will have to get used to our presence, and it will, and has in previous years. A red-wing blackbird trilled in another tree. I might have seen a swallow deek into the barn. I could almost hear the grass grow as it turned greener and greener before my eyes.

Carm finished setting up the pool and settled down in the chair beside me. A fitting end to a spring day.

Tonight we watched the Kentucky Derby for some fast paced, muddy moments.