This is a curly tailed lizard that was trying to climb up a tree--he kept slipping.
Here's a view of the whole plant that received a graft (a homework assignment in my propagation class this summer.)
This graft isn't mine. It was done by a fellow named David. When the professor saw it he did the teacher-equivalent of cheer. It was a beautifully healed graft.
The scaring was thorough and complete. Beautiful.
Trees heal, now it's my turn.
Monday my orthopaedic surgeon went in and arthroscopicly cleaned out my left knee. I'd put in a picture, but right now all my knee looks like is a tan-mottled-purple softball with three stars of paper tape stuck over the three incision locations. I do, however, have lots of time to write--since I am going to be starting a new habit with this operation. New? Yes, I will be laying about with my knee lifted above my heart for days rather than hours--before I start physical therapy or even do much traveling about the house. I have been doing the three exercises that the post-op nurse told me to do from the very beginning . . . while laying on my back with my knee raised above the level of my heart.
I have finished Susan's ribbon pants and a pair of shorts that I really liked, but wore once too many times while gardening--the left knee split through. (Ummmm . . . could be a clue to the mystery of how my knee fell apart in the first place?) All of my plants from my plant propagation class are safely huddled in the lanai, next to the house so that Nathan has to go out every other day and water them. The rabbits are also under the care of (mostly) Nathan who lets them out in the kitchen to frolic and meet for face washing sessions. Brent helps with the clean up in the evening. Nate feels kind of sorry for them and so offers more treats than they usually get. They have been cooperating amazingly well--no secret pee spots in the corners of the kitchen.
It reminds me of the frequent times that I was sick or in the hospital or away from home while Meg, La and Nathan were all still home. The house was spotless when I got home and then, as soon as I entered, the 1st law of thermodynamics (everything tends to go from order to disorder) set in. In the matter of a day, the house was cluttered and the sink was full of dishes. I am proud of my children's abilities to cope on their own. Sue, the woman who is in charge of the college plant nursery, told me that she always did the dishes and the laundry and the cooking--even when her kids were teenagers--and they have now left the "nest" without the ability to take care of themselves. I know that with a mother like Sue they will learn quickly to manage for themselves--memories of her examples will surface when panic sets in. I am so proud of my own children, though, who began college knowing how to do the mundane, daily tasks associated with surviving in the world.
I hear people saying that they wish that they could go back and begin again at 16 or 20--that they would do a better job of managing life. I do not have to imagine this--I am watching my children go through their 20's and doing a much better job than I could do myself.
Now that I am 51 (fifty one, sequenta uno, 25+25+1) I am impressed with not only my children and the way that they live their lives--but also with myself and the way that I have learned from and loved them. I would prefer a body that still bounced back from my adventures like it used to--but I am glad for the adventures that have brought me to the place where I am and the things that I am learning to do.
I am thirsty. I think that I will ask Nathan to bring me some of the orange strawberry slushy drink that Brent blended for me last night. Unbending (ha!) knees have few advantages right now, but there are still a few. Brent folded the laundry that Nathan washed and dried yesterday. All challenges with my body aside, I really do have an incredible life.
