I thought I would be done for the season by now, either due to weather or injury. But the water is still running, the ground not yet frozen, and with care I can use my arm again.
A few weeks ago, my rib blew. It was caused by too much exertion and it was my own fault. I’d been ignoring my body’s warning signals for days in an effort to meet a self-imposed fall planting deadline but I was benched in one awful hurry. Moving, breathing, things like that were excruciating. After two weeks of some very good drugs and much needed rest, I am somewhat operational again. I still can’t plant but I can use the tractor. I’m happy the weather is holding so I can spread the 7 dump trucks loads of mulch I had delivered the other day. I may be stumbling across the finish line of this long season bow legged and broken but I am thrilled with the progress. My deer fence is finished, and over 1000 plants are in the ground.
I owe thanks to so many people! Friends and my family have supported me and contributed in so many ways; planting, digging holes for the plants, cutting trees for the deer fence, bush-hogging, laying irrigation lines and punching in emitters, watering, weeding, mowing, spreading sulphur and mulch, carrying peat moss, picking out rocks and clay, making meals, tilling, the list goes on. It has been a hard seven months and, without question, I could not have done it by myself. Literally, as I write, tears of gratitude blur my eyes. A very special thank you to Nancy and Brent who were here for over two months helping me.
At some point in every big project there comes a time when enthusiasm wanes and nothing is left but a lot of hard work. It usually doesn’t take much to make me smile but especially during the times when I was alone and the day was long that simple things gave me a lot pleasure – the smell of fresh pine mulch, seeing perfect root growth on the “bare root” plants that I potted in the spring as I gently took them from their containers to plant this fall, getting a full load of mulch on the tractor loader on the first try, or just looking at my blueberry fields and realizing how far I have come and how much I have learned this year.
My friend, Nancy Ramadan, told me, there will be blueberries at the end of your rainbow. I really hope she’s right.