When I walked by my flower beds yesterday, the creeping Charlie had a stranglehold on a favorite clematis. The dandelions winked their yellow eyes. “Two more days, and we’ll blow seeds everywhere,” they taunted
My original plan had been to wait for a good, soaking rain and then attack the weeds. But the five day forecast sad no rain for a few more days, and my flowers didn’t look like they could hold on that long.
So yesterday afternoon, after a quick lunch and before talking myself into a nap, I pulled on the gardening gloves and got busy. Thankfully, Hiram grabbed the wheelbarrow and picked up the weeds as I grubbed them out of the dirt.
The weather was perfect. The ground, however, was uncooperative at best and iron hard at worst. Before long, my shoulders ached. From the protests my leg muscles made, they must have spent winter lounging on the beach in Florida while the rest of me exercised and walked outside in the cold.
The top of Hiram’s bald head got redder by the minute. Every muscle in my body whispered, “It’s Sunday afternoon. Time for a nap. You better quit. You’re too old for this. Give up and go inside.”
But we slaved away, motivated by the need to stay ahead of the gardening this spring and summer, at least until after Anne’s wedding in our yard on July 11.
When I rolled out of bed this morning, the aches and pains weren’t too bad, but they crept up on me during my morning walk. By the time I neared the house, I felt like an old, grouchy mother-in-law and a muttery mother of the bride.
Why did we say Anne could get married under our oak tree??How will we keep up with the yard work until July 11??Why are we such saps??What were we thinking?
What were we thinking?
What were we thinking?
Then the bleeding hearts came into view, one red and one white. Their transient loveliness, nestled in a corner flower bed, spoke blessing and family and home to me.
My shoulders still ached. My legs still screamed their insults.
But I could see my daughter in a white gown, walking on the lawn to meet her sweetheart under the oak tree we planted when she was a little girl. The shady spot spoke blessing and family and home to her and her new husband. That’s what we were thinking when we said yes.
The aches and pains are worth it.
