Forty-two years ago, at about this time of the morning, I woke up in labor. Twelve hours later I was wheeled into an operating room, where my firstborn was delivered by C-section.
My dad, who was in the Ohio Air National Guard, was testing for his private pilot's license as I struggled to deliver his granddaughter. He also was on alert, due to the situation at Kent State that led up to the events of that day. (He was not called up for active duty, thankfully.)
I wasn't politically active at that time. Had I been, I might have been in Kent protesting Nixon's invasion of Cambodia. My life took a different turn and there I was, almost 19, a baby having a baby.
That baby, 42 years later, amazes me. She's raising two children, working full-time and going to law school. She's bright, witty, savvy, pretty, energized and organized. She's a good example for me and for everyone who knows her, especially those children.
Happy birthday, H!
I managed to incorporate quite a bit of yoga into my garden workout yesterday, but I didn't accomplish nearly as much as I wanted or needed to. I finished the mowing and trimming first, then grabbed a bucket and started pulling weeds in the strawberry and onion beds. It was dreadfully hot, and I became physically ill – dizzy, sick to my stomach, definitely dehydrated and overheated – and had to stop after about three hours.
After I recovered, I made a list of the outdoor chores I need to do before it's too late. And by "too late" I mean optimal planting time will have come and gone, and weeds will have taken over where mulching should have been done.
Groundworks day) to put a short fence up for the blackberries, as well. And since one thing leads to another, I'd like to get those berries mulched while I'm out there.
And that, in a nutshell, is the story of my life. Once I get started, I can't seem to stop. As I've written previously, it's why I rarely sew – I want to start and finish a project all in one session. Gardening is a good thing for me to do, as it teaches me patience, Grasshopper, patience. And list-making is a good thing for me to do as well. The simple act of reading it shows me it's impossible to get everything done at once.
I wonder how I ever came to love knitting as much as I do. I don't write about it much because how much is there to say about endless rows of blue stockinette stitch? I'm a couple inches into the longest section of the second half. A summer's worth of Mad Men should wrap it up. Something to look forward to!
This post has certainly been a long and winding road, hasn't it? Birthing, protesting, violence, illness, gardening, knitting, you name it. Something for everyone – I'm the gift that keeps on giving! Heh.