Growth

It was the mosquito bite that was the one last pain that put me to weeping as I leaned against our bed, barely able to shuffle off to the bathroom. I was back to what I call T. Rex arms because I have to keep my elbows next to my sides to avoid sharp, stabbing pains. This is from having to lift myself up, rather than using my legs to stand. I tried using my walker, but my shoulders ache too much. I hadn’t found a place I can sit, and sleeping is impossible: I couldn’t lie on my back and turning from one side to the other was agonizing. I was a mess. And we have another damn set of screens out in the pool screen house.

After more than 5 weeks of aching legs and a sore, but slightly better, upper back, I gave in and made an appointment with Kirsten at physical therapy and another one with my doctor. Thank goodness. I now have small exercises that relieve some of the pain in my legs, and which Kirsten says will strengthen my muscles and realign my pelvis. Don’t care how they work, I feel better after I do them.

Even better, I got a steroid shot in my right shoulder (well done, Dr. Kim) and an Rx for Meloxicam. That night, I only woke up one time and was able to turn over and go back to sleep. I love Western medicine.

In the meantime, we invited Steph, Clara, and Kyle for Easter dinner and an egg hunt. I’m pretty sure there are still eggs with candy in them in the yard. The squirrels will find them. I made daffodil cake, and Grant grilled lamb. Saturday, (a day late but we still ate them), I made hot crossed buns using a flour slurry for the crosses and a sugar glaze. Supposed to be more traditional. Grant voted for the gooey white frosting I usually make. Next year, I may used this recipe for the buns and white XXX sugar for the crosses. My tradition is rarely using the same recipe twice.

We are also getting summer vegetable beds planted. The first okra, cow peas, and sunflowers are planted. I’ve started more in little peat pots for the next bed. Collards are on the list, if I ever order the seeds, and for the first time, we are planting Seminole squash. I am frustrated that I can’t work on the beds myself, but it is an opportunity, a growth edge as it were, to explain to Grant how I want to garden. This is not Virginia nor his grandfather’s garden plot. We are both learning patience. Or at least, having opportunities to practice. Plus, soon there will be okra.