her able hands

Yesterday I woke up feeling a nagging anxiety, a sense that I’m going to have a hard time getting things accomplished this month. Typically that feeling is the harbinger of a bout of frozen inaction that comes on the heels of an actively productive time. I grabbed it by the short hairs and said, I don’t think so, Sparky.

By eleven, Lila and I had rakes in hand and were busy giving the good mother a sound back scratching. A lot of our leaves didn’t get raked up before the snow started to fly last fall, and huge areas of grass in the side yard are now mostly mud. I raked for three hours, pulling the leaves around every tree in the yard to make a mound, leaving a good eight-inch ring of bare ground around the trunk. With some municipal compost and bark mulch on top, I’m going to transplant all of the Hostas and Columbines from the back of the house to ring the trees. Most of the leaves are Oak, so I’ll mix in some lime before I plant.

Lila spent much of the afternoon running around the yard, yelling Here I am, Mom! Mo-om! I right he-er. I flying! She fed dandelions to Charles, the female rabbit. Took a turn in the hammock that nobody bothered to put in the barn for the winter. Winter? Oh, you mean that month of cold we had back in November, before the Solstice had even occurred? Winter my ass.

This Crocus doesn’t think much about winter.

I’ve had mixed feelings about the strange weather. It’s hard not to think about the deeper implications of a balmy winter. Global Warming. Peak Oil. But these are things I can only make my own tiny choices about, try to make my own personal footprint a little smaller. This January was the warmest in Ohio’s recorded history and while it’s been a boon to get outside things caught up, I feel turned around because I’ve missed the much-needed hibernation period. Days that I have spent inside accomplishing this website, writing, cleaning, baking—I’ve felt guilty for not running out to embrace the kind weather. Now we’re heading into spring, a giant seed order will land on my front porch any day now, and the window of opportunity for the big inside projects will slam down on my fingers if I’m not more careful with my time.

Getting outside yesterday and working my body so hard helped to ground me the way nothing else can. Today I feel focused and energized, but also physically exhausted. My hands are blistered, my neck stiff, my lower back twingy, and my knees ache, and I can barely lift my arms to type.

This getting old thing? Jeesh. Who the hell needs it?

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