Roots

 

I've had my new right knee for about ten weeks and it feels great. In fact, when I do my exercises it is often the other knee which causes me pain. Soon I'll be planning the second surgery.

My core set of exercises consists of going up and down the stairs, riding the stationary bike, and walking. Yesterday, Doug and I took a little walk and I took a closer look at the tree that uprooted in the heavy rain we had a week or so ago. It may not show so well in this photo (I should have had Doug stand next to it) but this root mass is huge! I'm usually inclined to let the woods be, but this tree is so enormous that it really is a bit of an eyesore. I don't want to think about what it will cost to have it cut up and removed ... well, save the wood for the fireplace and remove the rest. 

We didn't walk far because my left knee was acting up, which would be okay except that once it starts there is a concurrent pain that hits my back and that's the one that makes walking more or less unbearable. We walked to the end of the drive and then we sat on a little bench which Doug installed about twenty years ago, for use when waiting for the school bus. When it was time to get up and head back to the house, Doug offered his hand, partly to help me up from the bench and partly to keep me steady, to ensure I wouldn't fall while walking. I suddenly had a memory of a darling, white-haired older couple I saw in Ann Arbor, Michigan, about thirty seven years ago. They were walking down the street, autumn leaves all about, and they were holding hands. I thought it was so sweet!

 
 

Yesterday, I realized that now we are the older couple. From now on, when I see an elderly pair holding hands, I'll wonder: is it because they are still sweethearts after many years together, or is it because they hold on to keep each other from falling down. Probably it's both!

After all, those roots we build during decades together run deep and support us in many different ways. 

I haven't had a drink, yet I'm weaving

 
 

I signed up for Just Considering Weave with Jude Hill (Spirit Cloth). My first attempt was with pale teal and white threads. It took only a few rows before I realized it looked mostly white and very boring.

So, I switched to a more colorful palette. For my warp thread, I chose a nice raspberry red. For the weft, I used a variegated thread, which almost feels like cheating, because it makes it so easy to weave a pattern. 

Colorful is good at this time of year ... like my geraniums. My geraniums, by the way, allow me to pretend I have a green thumb. If it weren't for virtually maintenance-free plants, I'd have to admit the truth that gardening is but one of many Martha Stewart-esque talents which I lack.

I never look at geraniums without being reminded of a favorite childhood poem, written by A.A. Milne, author of the Winnie-the-Pooh series of books. I enjoy this poem even more as an adult. 

THE DORMOUSE AND THE DOCTOR

There once was a Dormouse who lived in a bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red),
And all the day long he’d a wonderful view
Of geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue).

A Doctor came hurrying round, and he said:
“Tut-tut, I am sorry to find you in bed.
Just say ‘Ninety-nine’ while I look at your chest….
Don’t you find that chrysanthemums answer the best?”

The Dormouse looked round at the view and replied
(When he’d said “Ninety-nine”) that he’d tried and he’d tried,
And much the most answering things that he knew
Were geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue).

The Doctor stood frowning and shaking his head,
And he took up his shiny silk hat as he said:
“What the patient requires is a change,” and he went
To see some chrysanthemum people in Kent.

The Dormouse lay there, and he gazed at the view
Of geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue),
And he knew there was nothing he wanted instead
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red).

The Doctor came back and, to show what he meant,
He had brought some chrysanthemum cuttings from Kent.
“Now these,” he remarked, “give a much better view
Than geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue).”

They took out their spades and they dug up the bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red),
And they planted chrysanthemums (yellow and white).
“And now,” said the Doctor, “we’ll soon have you right.”

The Dormouse looked out, and he said with a sigh:
“I suppose all these people know better than I.
It was silly, perhaps, but I did like the view
Of geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue).”

The Doctor came round and examined his chest,
And ordered him Nourishment, Tonics, and Rest.
“How very effective,” he said, as he shook
The thermometer, “all these chrysanthemums look!”

The Dormouse turned over to shut out the sight
Of the endless chrysanthemums (yellow and white).
“How lovely,” he thought, “to be back in a bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red.)”

The Doctor said, “Tut! It’s another attack!”
And ordered him Milk and Massage-of-the-back,
And Freedom-from-worry and Drives-in-a-car,
And murmured, “How sweet your chrysanthemums are!”

The Dormouse lay there with his paws to his eyes,
And imagined himself such a pleasant surprise:
“I’ll pretend the chrysanthemums turn to a bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red)!”

The Doctor next morning was rubbing his hands,
And saying, “There’s nobody quite understands
These cases as I do! The cure has begun!
How fresh the chrysanthemums look in the sun!”

The Dormouse lay happy, his eyes were so tight
He could see no chrysanthemums, yellow or white.
And all that he felt at the back of his head
Were delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red).

And that is the reason (Aunt Emily said)
If a Dormouse gets in a chrysanthemum bed,
You will find (so Aunt Emily says) that he lies
Fast asleep on his front with his paws to his eyes.

 

Winnie-the-Pooh belonged to Christopher Robin, of course. I had my own bear. Here I am with my dog and my bear, circa 1952. 

My bear is still with me, in 2014. There are some things one doesn't give up.