Both Mike and I had been working outside in the yard nearly all day. There was planting and clean up aplenty to do. We had wished to at least get a good start on getting our garden in but things weren't exactly looking promising. Mike had been having some difficulty with the rototiller and he decided to call one of the guys from work to see if he could come over to help him start it up. After a very short while, the tiller was up and running again and there was hope that at the very least, we could at least get in a few things before the day was through. Mike made neat rows for me to plant my eight tomato and five pepper plants in. Before I knew it, the process of getting those wonderful plants into the row had begun. I was happy!
Since I'd been working outside most of the weekend, my 60-year old knees were secretly planning to revolt from all of my ups and downs. I decided that the easiest way for me to plant the tomatoes, rather than walking down the row and stooping over, was to get down on my knees and crawl from spot to spot. It worked out great, well at least for the first four plants. I dutifully held onto my pitcher full of water, having seen my mom do it a zillion times that way, and when I made the hole for the plant to go into, I poured a couple of cups of water into the soil first. The rest of the steps are easy. Put in the plant, pack the soil around it, make sure it's good and secure and then move on.
By the time I got to the fifth plant, the most interesting thing happened. As I scooted toward it, full pitcher of water in my hand, I felt my knees sink into the soft red earth and then I fell, nearly face first into the garden. Imagine it happening in slow motion because that's kind of/sort of how it felt. I lost my balance (even on my knees), dumped a huge part of that full pitcher of water onto the ground, and landed with my hands down just enough to save myself from eating a pretty decent mouthful of that rich Texas soil.
And all I could do was laugh.
Hysterically.
I've never fallen from a kneeling position before. Mike, bless his heart, was standing right there as a spectator to this whole ordeal. When it was all over and I was able to get myself up off the ground once again, all we could do was continue laughing. Sometimes I just plain amaze myself at some of the things that I manage to accomplish. I remember that I told him it was sure easier to fall from that height than to fall from a standing position. Hey, at least I had a soft spot of ground to land on.
It's been a busy, busy weekend and Daylight Savings Time is doing me in. I caught a quick 30 minute nap in the chair in front of the TV just a while ago and more than likely will be heading to bed very soon. Spring break is over and tomorrow it's back to school. I've had a wonderful week off but now it is time to return and get back to the normal routine. The remaining days shall fly by quickly and before I know it, year #38 of being a teacher will be over. I'm sure I'll wake up stiff and sore in the morning but hard work has not done me in yet. One thing is for certain though.
Life has been good to me.
I chose to laugh.
No comments:
Post a Comment