Today I have been playing in the dirt with happiness that I was able too. My helpers are going back to college; the plants need transplanting and the potting soil is stacked up in the patio. I took a flat box and went to the soil with doubled trash bags to hold it and a small pot to scoop it up with. Then I pushed and pulled and tugged and went backwards up my ramp, sometimes with my foot in the box to pull it. It was a thorough workout. Officially, this probably doesn't count as assistive technology, but I have always have had the attitude, if it works, use it.
Two tomato plants are transplanted into grow bags full of this wonderful dirt that looks and feels and smells like it would be absolutely yummy for plants--somewhere between steak and chocolate, or maybe a combination of both. It seemed to my eye that the tomatoes had grown between morning and early evening when I went outside to water them again.
I have been watering by hauling refilled water bottles from the kitchen sink to the outdoors. As I was doing it, I was reminded of one of those movies about life on the prairie and how the women carefully hauled water and dolloped it out to their beloved flowers. A connection to my pioneer foremothers was established here.
Tonight I am grateful for the physical work, the time outdoors and the dirt under my fingernails. Even more, I am grateful for Ibuprofen!
Tomorrow I hope to take pictuers.
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