My body is telling me today that I am no longer a spring chicken.
Yesterday the SH and I got out into the garden just before 9 am and, apart from a short break for lunch and a cup of tea, didn't get back inside until 4 pm. I spent the bulk of my time kneeling: weeding the vegie garden, planting out carrots, peas, beetroot and pukekohe long keeper onions. SH mowed and linetrimmed and then tended to his lawn edges with knee pads and a sharp knife if you please! He then fed his pride and joy with Yates Weed and Feed.
Today we both came home from work, poured a wine and beer respectively, and commiserated with each other about our various aches and pains brought on by the previous days gardening endeavours.
Over the last couple of years I have finally realised that there is a point where I need to listen to my body - that dodgy knee, that aching wrist - and say "I'll leave it until tomorrow".
20 years ago we could garden all day and then party all night - now we can manage to garden half a day and then fall into bed at 8.30!
However gardening still makes us feel alive. My Mum was still tending her garden at 85 so we've hopefully got a few years ahead of us.
The reward for me is simple - a salad like this one from last summer - radishes, lettuce leaves, spring onions, borage, cherry tomatoes and parsley all resulting from the effort we put into our garden.