Weeds to weakness
No this isn't a post about marijuana! Last weekend I found myself unexpectedly weeding the garden and the drive – a novel experience for me. In the dozen or so rental locations I've lived in since 1996, this is the first one with a garden to look after.
Part 1 – the weeds
It started innocently enough, the weeding. I was outside playing with my toddler and thought I'd pull up that one, over there. Then maybe the one poking through the decking... and before you knew it, I was all-in on the weeding, my toddler was helping where she could, and my wife was trimming the hedge!
...and it was a wholly cathartic experience on an intermittently sunny day. Being outside. Physical work. Tangible evidence of achievement for the time put it. Mind in that pleasantly empty space focused on the task at hand instead of all the usual stuff crowding around, yammering for attention (well not completely empty – there's always that bit looking out for aforementioned toddler!).
Part 2 – the weakness
The following days I discovered that walking to and from my office job, and keeping up with the little one might keep me from being totally unfit but did not train my weeding muscles! Aching thighs from squatting down. Sore forearms, wrists and hands from pulling out those weeds. But it was a virtuous burn!
Unfortunately, as Monday came to a close another burn settled in – turned out I hadn't dodged the sickness and diarrhoea bug from nursery after all. As I type this on the Friday, I'm getting back to strength. It hasn't been the worst sickness but it hasn't exactly been fun – I'm lucky I didn't spend more time with one end or the other projecting into the cool porcelain toilet. Not the downstairs toilet mind – that one needs attention from the plumber.
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