I thought about gardening today and the theory I have heard that the sun, the dirt, and growing things, are supposed to be a healthy non-pharmaceutical alternative for hormone replacement for post-menopausal women. So for those who prefer a natural fix, isn’t that a good conviction to contemplate?
So I go to the garden and contemplate that thought as I crawl about on hands and knees yanking out weeds and putting them in a pail. Doing the healthy thing.
But out here in my garden, my conviction that a magical interchange of feeble weariness vs. youthful estrogen is happening, begins to weaken as the dirt presses into my knees and grinds its way into my shoes and under my fingernails. As flies nip at my neck and the sun beats down on my head. As rivers of toily-sweat drip salt-water into my eyes. And as cramp-spasms form painful knots in my ankles, back, and knees.
Now despite the warnings of possible side-effects, my friend told me she takes estrogen-replacement medication (in pill form) to preserve a quality of life that is very necessary. You know, stuff like energy, ambition, and bones insisting that they have the strength to run, to jump, to dance, and chronically insisting that is what they want and plan to do.
As for me, I hate taking pills. I hate an artificial fix. So I remain in my garden: absorbing hormone-replacement in a natural way.
But eventually I am finished and when I dump my pail of weeds and look up, there is Hub taking his ease in a lawn-chair on the deck.
“What’s with you?” I ask, biting my lip and stifling my annoyance. “Are you unaware how much garden work needs doing?”
“Not at all,” Hub replies. “I told you, when we were planting them, that was too many potatoes. So while you were weeding the rest of the garden, I hoed my two rows, and I am done! YOUR six rows still need hilling.”
Oh, really? Well, I’ll do them alright. How opportune for me to have so many more hours to sap up a grand excess of hormone-replacement. Then we’ll see…
He might be grinning now, but man, is he going to be sorry, when I’m finished – and my excess estrogen-replacement fervor of potency and carnality kicks in.
He’ll be running fast as he can – to the garden – to hill the remaining potatoes.
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6 comments:
Maybe you'll have to slip one of those blue pills in his soup. Be sure and tell us if all this weeding works.
kate, you certainly make me laugh. But the little blue pill? -- I don't do artificial fixes and Hub is not allowed to either. It just ain't natural. :D
Roberta,
Gardening as a means of hormone-replacement? I certainly never thought of it that way before. Only thing I ever liked about gardening was the scent of tomato vines, and a freshly cut open watermelon. Love how you garden your relationship with Hub, especially in the way you describe your interactions with him.
Scot
There is absolutely nothing as great as working in the garden. It's good therapy for both.
Hmm..I wonder how Kate knows about those little blue pills? and they don't work if the 'spirits not willin'.
I had my hub build me a container garden which is waist high...8' x 20' with cement blocks. It's easy on my knees and back and just enough for our family & friends...with many other containers on the deck for plum tomato's, cherry & grape tomato's & my herbs.
This time of year I really miss my garden and flowers. Hopefully I'll get home by September & still enjoy it.
Hi scot. Thanks for reading. Thanks for commenting. I don't know exactly how the hormone transfer happens - whether it is through plant-aura chemical exchanges or just through exercise, fresh air, and good health. But either way, I've heard it is supposed to work and probably if I 'Google' it, there are some references to be found (although the idea is not so much in vogue as it was about ten years ago).
matty, how lovely that you have a custom-built garden to enjoy. I am thinking of you often and hope that indeed you will be able to return home soon to enjoy it.
Thanks for stopping by. As always, I enjoyed your visit.
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