Came up with that last night, talking to a friend about a past experience he had with a redhead. <smile>
But in some ways I think it can be applied to just about everything.
Every time I stoop down to grab a weed, shove a trowel into the ground, pick up a bucket, or pick a handful of herbs, or any other movement I wonder in my mind if my back is going to go again and my next move is going to be writhing on the ground in pain. Guess that is a scar of a kind. I certainly have a real scar on my back too.
But we keep moving along here. I processed down a picking of rhubarb into 5 pints of sauce. I like it fine plain, but prefer to mix it with strawberries. By the time it is ready to pick those again, we should have ripe ones. The plants are covered with blooms so it should be another good year for strawberries.
Have been planting up a storm here at home. Getting in beans, more tomatoes, weeding, dropping more seeds in here and there. This weekend should find me out at the Minnetonka garden Saturday afternoon with Frank planting tomatoes and peppers, and the Ness Farm garden on Sunday with Patti planting out there. There is supposed to be some rain, but so long as it is not solid all the way through, or so heavy as to turn things to mud, we should get a lot done.
As always we will see. My back is feeling pretty good, only dealing with the apprehension of movement for now.
