Trade Off

Another perfect spring day, too nice to stay inside, but I wasn't willing to take another beating from John Dear so soon.  Hmmm.  Okay, so I made a plan.  The winter comforter went into the washing machine right after barn chores and I had a sit-down.  When the mechanical servant had done its job, Bess and I went out to hang the comforter on the line.  She has a talent for lying down right where I need to step next, so it wasn't as easy as one might think.  Another little break before going out to get a start on hand weeding the herb garden.  Marjoram and thyme die off in winter, but come back full force in spring.  The ten peony plants are up and putting out buds.  The problem is that there are so many tall weeds that it's hard to see the good guys.  Where to start?  I take a systematic approach to weeding; once I've bent over I pull everything within reach before moving on.  Bess, my supervisor, knows where I want to go next and so, of course, lies down right there.  We have to talk about this.  I traded the soreness in neck and shoulders from John for pain in the thighs from weeding.  Even so, with an armful of the unwanted and an hour of effort, there's hardly a dent in what still needs to be done.  Definitely time for another sit-down.

The best thing for sore muscles is to keep moving so I made a frontal attack on the kitchen.  Bessie Anne won't walk on the slick surface anymore, but plopped down in the doorway to keep an eye on me.  She is my constant companion, dear girl that she is.  The cats came in, ostensibly to check on my progress, but in reality to sweet talk me into giving them treats...again.  They'd already had their goodies earlier, but Celeste is insatiable and Ralph comes along and lets his sister do the talking.

I drew the line at mopping the floor and called it quits for the day.  It was a good day.