Life With Limitations: Stirring
Standing at the window looking out through the February gloom, the rain coming down day after day, it would be easy to let that gray overcast creep into my attitude. There may not have been a light shining outside, but I am a gardener and I know where to find my source of SAD mood-altering light (Seasonal Affective Depression), along with the treatments for symptoms of early onset cabin fever. I grabbed an umbrella and headed for the greenhouse.
I rolled back the door, stepped inside, closed the door behind me, and there I stood in another world. It was so quiet you could hear a mouse peeing on a wool rug, only the sound of misting rain on the roof. I stood there surrounded by the quiet and the aloneness. Not even a cat had followed me to the greenhouse needing attention. I do have to carry my phone in case of an emergency, but sound is turned off. I turned the furnace up, turned the overhead lights, paused and took a deep breath. This was waking up in another world.
There were containers of all sizes on the floor beneath the benches that I had moved in late last fall. The intent was to give them some extra time to put on a bit more growth, then awaken early after dormancy giving me a head start with container arrangements. A few containers were the original nursery pots waiting for transplanting to new containers and possible companions. Most were larger, beginning with 12 inch clay and moving up to 24 inch composite in size. Lots of possibilities to play.
While taking a close look I saw that my plan was working. There were green noses in the clump of Trillium nivale, two of the clematis were showing new leaves. That was just what I needed to get all excited, ready to spring into action. Then I realized there were some new rules to follow. With COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease, emphysema) there are restrictions to carrying and dragging heavy containers around. This all has to be organized and thought through before jumping into action. First up, if I am going to move those containers up on to a bench to receive more light they have to be moved before I water. If I do water no walking back and forth with watering cans; get the hose out and turn on the water. Some containers I can move, but not all at one time. The larger ones I will need to leave alone and get help in moving. Pulling and pushing weight is about the same as carrying.
The stopping and thinking took a bit of wind from my sails, but I reminded myself that I had spent the past two years coming to grips with the reality of having this disease. Now was the time to put head work into practice if I was to take care of my health and continue to garden in my new world of limitations.
As it turned out, my body took care of how much I accomplished. I found I did not have the energy nor strength to lift all the containers up on to the bench. What remained would wait until another day; after all, there was no deadline on completion of the task. I could complete that tomorrow and water with the hose. The rest of the project, the large containers, can wait until my wife is in the greenhouse with me. I will say there are times when patience, asking for help, is more difficult than the doing. Then I have to continually remind myself that being hard-headed has consequences.
My latest book is in first edit now. Stay Tuned.