When I sat up to put my feet on the floor, I got a shooting pain up the right side of my rib cage. No worry. I knew exactly what I had done out in the garden yesterday that caused it. Nothing that a small surgery, a week of bed rest, three months of physical therapy and some morphine won't cure.
Dear Daughter stopped in for a short visit last night and I gave her a nice bunch of my rhubarb, the first I'd picked this year. It looked so good that I went out first thing this morning and picked enough for a baked goodie of our own.
Came in and used the rhubarb to make a dish of Rhubarb Crunch . . . the best Crunch, Crisp, Crumble, Crackle, Crungle, whatever . . . I've come up with. Good thing I had it because the fella who put in our solar energy system (who's become a friend) stopped by this afternoon with his seventeen year old apprentice son to say hello. They sat at the kitchen table and chatted while sampling the Rhubarb Crunch. The son, who usually doesn't have too much to say, was working his spoon pretty hard in his bowl to get every last little morsel cleaned up. Finally, he pushed his bowl away and said, "That was the best rhubarb dessert I've ever had!" High praise, I felt. (If anybody's interested in the recipe --- it's really not my intent to subject you all to too many recipes --- let me know.)
Other than picking the rhubarb this morning and watering my sprouted seeds in the garden and the seedlings I'm hardening off on the deck in preparation for planting them, I didn't make it back outside to work all day. That's okay though 'cause, as I say, my energy level was lagging and I maybe needed a non-physical rest day.
That blankety-blank Agnes (my maid) didn't show up again today. Haven't seen her all week and her list just gets longer and longer. Boy, the help you get these days. I'd better get to bed. Somebody's got to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morning.