Azure Jane Lunatic (azurelunatic) wrote,
Azure Jane Lunatic

Gardening is not for sissies.

Today with my aunt was excellent fun. She had been issued a bunch of plants (succulents) and a bunch of little tiny pots, and told to put the one in the other in tiny adorable garden arrangements. She recruited my help. We had fun. I helped weed her lawn. My knees don't like me for that.

They had various electrical problems this morning (hardwired smoke detector beeping in a paranoid fashion, an unnerving intermittent sizzling sound from the bathroom light fixtures, and a dead microwave) so she called PG&E. Dude took a look around, advised that these three things actually didn't make the sort of pattern that was his responsibility, advised her to check for backup battery in the smoke detector, get the sizzling checked out, and that it was most likely a coincidence because it didn't have other telltales of a whole-house problem.

I wound up doing seven little pots. Tiny plant design is fun. I was reminded of Ekaterin, and amused that I've been reading so much Foreigner lately -- though I did not count the plants, nor the types of plants. I let my artistic instinct flow, man.

Once we'd filled the tiny pots, there were plants left over. We took ourselves and the plants outside, and put plants places. I met the gardener, who happened to be there (Wednesday afternoons). Apparently my aunt is only his second client who's ever been out there working alongside him. We got a bunch of weeds pulled in addition to getting the plants in.

So after we got done with all that, I went shopping. I was starting to feel all the standing and leaning and tugging in my legs pretty hard. Someone in a car without either disabled tags or hanger zipped into the spot next to the door. I haven't requested tags because I generally have enough mobility to park wherever the hell there is a space, as long as there aren't stairs in between me and my destination. I was peeved to see people without the appropriate signage and also without visible difficulty moving parking there. I was angry enough to mention it to a security guard.

I did find sufficient discount chocolate to assuage my temper, however. Also groceries. Then to Trader Joe's, by way of Cost Plus World Market (they did not appear to have Turkish Delight, alas).

By the time I had walked back to my car (furthest parking spot, check) I was hurting badly enough that I decided I was going to sit in the car and read for a while until my pain went down. I would have been able to drive had it been urgent that I do so, but given that it was not, then I was going to take the time, dammit, because keeping my feet in position for the brake and accelerator would have hurt.

Upon getting home and cold stuff put away, etc., took one of the stash of leftover pain meds (half a pill; the stuff has a kick and I'm not used to it and I don't want to become used to it) and unlike some of the previous experiences I have had with the stuff, where it's like I'm floating on *fluffy* *clouds* and the world is *soft* and *bouncy* and there is *no pain anywhere* -- it's like the world was full of lego one-blocks on the floor and now it's that plasticy half-domed stuff they put at crosswalks, and the occasional cushioned edge, but hardly goosedown and cotton candy and rainbows. Parts of me have relaxed like a hot tub, but other parts still twinge and low-level ache. I think this means I got the dose right for the amount of pain I was in; this also says things about the amount of pain I was in, that it's not gone all soft-edged and rainbowy on half the sort of pill that one takes for the aftermath of getting your wisdom teeth out (and that winds up soft and rainbowy).

Basically, I'd better not do that thing with the weeding again any time soon.

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