As a quadriplegic who would like to sit in his chair all day, the two words you do not want to hear are "pressure sores". Very simply, the extreme pressure of your butt bones on your seat cushion can cause the skin to breakdown into a sore. Just as the gardening season was taking off last April, a pressure sore began that I battled all year until a skin graft surgery in January. I had been thinking all winter that I would have this wrapped up and off to a brand-new season in the garden. At the Wound Care Center last week, my doctor informed me I have a new one that is 3 cm deep. So once again, Brenda and I have a battle on our hands.
But with the help of my family and my friends, the garden goes on. Clarence Kelly, a dutiful Knight of Columbus, delivered some beautiful topsoil from his soybean field. Even though it had a tarp on it, the rain turned it into some type of black cement. My brother Chris chipped away at it and gave me 5 or 6 inches of the topsoil on some previously unimproved earth. My friend Ted brought his tiller and blended the topsoil with some peat moss. The soil has never looked better but the doctor is only allowing me up one hour a day.
Today Brenda, Jackson and Colin worked on the south side of the house. Brenda untangled the tomato cages for three heirloom tomatoes. My previous post mentioned the ornamental peppers that nine-year-old Jackson planted with a genetic touch. And Colin wanted nothing to do with it so he could show me something in his new treehouse. So that's how we spent the rest of my time up. Three generations in the garden. I am a happy man.
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