Anyone who is doubting the change of the season at this point is just ignoring the facts. This morning the Jack Snipe daffodils by the front door were open for business.
These little fellows are only 5 inches tall, so you get some idea of just how cute they are. Across the walkway from them, there is a lone chionodoxa open, but lots of buds ready to pop nearby. I have to remember to mark these bulbs this year, I am wanting to transplant them elsewhere and spread them out. Last fall I had ideas of doing that but I couldn’t find them. Grape hyacinths, chionodoxa and star of bethlehem bulbs all look pretty much the same in the fall.
Out in the herb garden I have miniature irises up and in full bloom.
These were originally members of a group of bulbs called “Splendor in the Grass” that I bought from White Flower Farms over a decade ago. I still have crocuses from that mixture coming up every spring, but the squirrels ate all the corms for the Grecian wind flowers, the snow drops didn’t like being mowed and these irises didn’t die from being mowed but they also didn’t flower again since the foliage was being cut back before they could feed their bulbs. So I moved them, and the remnants of that purchase are doing just fine inside an established bed.
No bees today. It’s a little chilly for the critters.
On an entirely different subject, I often think that the things that happen to me physically are placed there by an adoring Providence to give me lessons. The last week’s lesson was on why we don’t work in only one area when someone is complaining of pain. See, I went to my massage therapist complaining that my sciatic seemed to be bothering me, and so she worked on that area. Immediately, and without any ado, the tension back there alleviated, my psoas was unopposed and went into a vicious spasm. This impacted my femoral nerve and I was experiencing lots of referred pain from the pinched nerve, plus the epidermal nerve was not sending messages and so all the skin on my upper thigh felt numb while the muscles beneath felt like they were on fire.
My own personal massage therapist husband chef was pressed into service, and we discovered very quickly that the psoas had issues. So he worked on them. Things improved, but I was not out of the woods. Last night I also made him work on the lumbar area where the femoral nerve originates, and today I feel so much better.
So the lesson is, don’t change the policy of working everywhere in the body no matter where the person is experiencing pain. A person listening to my complaints would have been focused on the iliotibial tract and would never have found the actual source of my pain, which was deep in my abdomen and in my upper lumbar back area.
To top it all off, somehow I managed to get a tiny crumb of jalapeno or cayenne in my eye last night and you would have thought a nuclear weapon had been set off in there judging by the pain, the tears and the massive amount of mucous my sinuses immediately began to emit. Fortunately, rinsing it out and waiting solved that crisis, but not before the combination of that last little coup de grace and the continual discomfort in my leg had reduced me to tears.
I sent myself to bed at 8 p.m. and did not get up until 7 this morning. After the power went back on. It was out all night due to some sort of contretemps vis-a-vis the thunderstorm last night.
Now I need to think about what I am going to take to Costa Rica, which means I need to go try on my shorts. No doubt I will discover that they are way too big, since I have FINALLY managed to get the weight down to 159. Oh yeah, you read that right. My body weight has not been under 160 since 1978, so you can imagine that in the midst of all the pain and angst, I have also been rejoicing.
Let me just reiterate that. ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY NINE, for the first time in THIRTY TWO years.
Yessireebob. Life is good and looking better and better.