I am not handling overwhelming situations very well. I realize that there's more to be done than one person can handle in one day. And yet I keep trying, even through the panic attacks that are coming because I have to keep stuffing down and just plowing ahead. Trying to keep myself in balance is one thing, and then having to take on keeping Woodchuck on task and also healthy is proving to be a little difficult and a lot overwhelming. I've repeated twice recently that we can't keep dragging projects out. Get in, knock it out, and move on. He does not see it the same as I do.
But we got on the same page recently when making a trip to the land. After a roller coaster few hours about a week ago, some friends were able to drop off the lights that were salvaged from an upgrade job at a local school gym. All but two fit in their vehicle and we were so grateful not only that they made trip to our house to drop them off, but also helped Woodchuck with a flat tire that day, and saved us a lot of money in lighting!
The two that were left were dropped off to me at my workplace a couple of days ago! These are LED and will be great for Woodchuck to be able to see while working in the barn. While the last exam of his eyes showed that the macular degeneration had stopped getting worse, we have noticed that his eyesight continues to get worse in his right eye. It continues to floor, and humble me, when he tells me, "Sweetheart, I can't see that." Insert lump in my throat here.
So this is what it's like to age. To not only watch yourself slowly change physically and cognitively, no matter your efforts to keep it at bay, but to watch those around you slowly decline. I am surrounded by it at work, with the vast majority of our long-term volunteers being over 80 years old. When I think back to how they were, and how their lives were, just under two years ago when I started working there, the difference is immense and seems like it should be ten years that has gone by. How much can change in such a short amount of time. It's terrifying, really.
We unloaded the lights into the barn and headed over to the area of blueberry bushes. This was our long-awaited moment of finally pruning those crazy biatches! Now, of course it's not their fault that they weren't given trims along the way! They now resemble a distant cousin of Cousin It. So much so in fact, that when I was conversing with the elderly volunteers while at work the other day, they didn't believe me that these are blueberry bushes! "Whaaaaat? That's a blueberry bush?!" "I've never seen a blueberry bush like that before!" "Come here and look at this thing, does that look like a blueberry bush to you?"
I promise you that these are blueberry bushes (being overran by Red Twig Dogwood). There are two varieties, though I can never remember both. They had not been trimmed on over ten years, but while they were still producing, I'm sure the yield and size of berry was below what it could have been had the previous owner kept up on it. Not to mention that we couldn't reach the top portion of the bushes and the land in that area is too marshy to utilize a step stool or ladder...though I did stand in my metal work cart the first year! What with Woodchuck and I both needing a shoulder surgery, the less we have to reach up right now the better!
The before picture. There's a blueberry bush in there!!!! The reddish new cane growth of a blueberry bush can be confusing when the red cane growth of a Red Twig Dogwood is also in the mix. Sadly, the dogwoods are intermixed inside the base growth of the blueberry bushes. Only time will tell how I can handle this situation. But for now, each BB bush will get quite the make-over and we will wait the couple of years for marked fruit production!
After! It's quite shocking and intimidating, but we were told by a local blueberry business to just get in there and cut the hell out of them. I left that up to Woodchuck, he's the pruner. I think it comes with his ability to see things in dimensions, which is why he's also a good wood carver and sculptor. His hands hold such magick that he just can't see himself! I make sure to always point it out to him! 💚
While he worked on pruning, I worked on cutting back the growth around each bush so he could get the whole the way around. I know I'm going to have my hands full with the dogwood for a long time to come! When cut, and not treated, it sends out numerous new canes (not unlike other species too). I did not have the treatment chemical with me, so it's something I'll have to go back and re-cut and then treat, while being careful not to contaminate the BB bushes themselves.
In the mud again and happy. I am most fulfilled in nature, covered in bits and pieces of it, listening to the birds. My world becomes right again, every sorrow leaves me, every injury and pain healed. It's the least I can do in return for Mother E, to help her breathe easier, to spread her branches, uninhibited by choking invasives. Oh and, I finally changed my boot laces out! These boots have been with me for something like five years and have done a lot of fieldwork! Still going strong, and I think that was the first lace change to happen!
I wandered over to a small cluster of dead and dying trees that we haven't gotten to yet. They were overrun by Oriental Bittersweet. How can I love the looks of something while equally hating the damage it does? That's how I feel about Oriental Bittersweet. It's one of my favorite colors--two shades of orange--but I look at the damage it has done and the berries it has dropped on the ground and do a cringing growl. I even find the pattern of a mature vine mesmerizing.....as I cut its throat with loppers and tell it to get the fuck out of here. Yes, I really say that to it.
So the short-term goal is to get out there once a week and cut a bush. We still can't locate them all in the overgrowth, and know that some have gone into the pond since that has spread (slumped), but we were able to count seven that day. I told him, again, that we can't keep prolonging projects. Seven weeks, minimum, to prune bushes? And that's if we get out there once a week and don't have other things to work on while we were out there...which we do. Seven weeks takes us to April, and the work on the watershed needs to be done by April 1st. Factor in weather, injuries and illnesses, and there goes my panic again. We are just two aging people trying to get the land back to where it should be, and in a native state. I think I'm going to have to call a meeting soon between the two of us. Lots of alcohol may be consumed at said meeting, crying may happen, because, honestly put, I'm using alcohol to cope lately. Specifically double shots of Coffee Liquor followed with a beer. Don't judge me.
In other news, we have been accepted into the new Spring show called Halfway to Halloween that's being put on by the same team that puts on the Bizarre Bazaar that we do each Fall. While pressured to make new items, I am looking forward to losing myself in the art and magick I feel in it. I miss it so now that I'm back to work and working my ass off to pay a college tuition that I keep coming up short for each month. All we can do is our best. All I intend on doing is loving, living, spreading magick and creating a haven for us to retire to. I wish the same for you too. 💕
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