The litmus test as to whether I have truly recovered from my knee surgery ordeal is when I am able to traipse about a Disney World Theme Park, unfettered by a wheel chair.
We attended the flower and garden festival at Epcot on Saturday. I informed Fiddledaddy that I felt I could indeed walk unaided, and there would be no need to rent a wheel chair. And thusly, subject me to further bodily harm inflicted upon me by two children with a driving need to careen me into a retention pond.
Fiddledaddy envisioned me making it as far as perhaps China, wherein I would then lay prone across the hot cement weakly pleading, “Carry me.” He vetoed me, and opted for the manual wheelchair. And instructed the designated drivers to try not to further cripple me.
With a good deal of pride, I would like to inform you that I made it about half way around the World Showcase using my own two good legs. And even pushed one tired 8 year old in the wheelchair part of the way. I would also like to admit with pride, that I refrained from getting even with that same 8 year old that ran me into more than two garbage receptacles the week prior.
I know. I am a fount of human decency.
We never actually made it into the Flower and Garden building where all the seminars and demonstrations were located. I attended last year, and am still lamenting the fact that I am a notorious killer of plant life. And nothing has really changed in the last year.
I can’t understand this, because I come from a long line of farmers. I simply chalk it up to the idea that keeping my own children fed and alive takes all of my time and energy. Still. I long for a garden.
While I was admiring all of the beautiful landscaping, floral containers, and herb gardens scattered about Epcot, I found one particular gardening exhibit that struck my fancy.
And I mentioned to Fiddledaddy that I don’t post nearly enough photos of myself on my blog. So he took one for me.
I was forced to crop it because upon downloading it to my iPhoto, I discovered that I was both fat and sweaty. It seems that since my whole knee ordeal began some months ago, I have gained 10 pounds. Because inactivity and depression? That combo gives me quite an appetite. Evidently.
Fiddledaddy gently asked me if I wanted to try a Phase 1 South Beach cleanse with him. I said NO. But I probably will in the coming days. So if I appear a little cranky, you’ll know why.
I suppose that trimming and pruning my own self could constitute as personal gardening. It’s a stretch, but I’m desperate. Bloom where you’re planted, and all that rot.