Lucky Thirteen, Wednesday, July 2022.

This year is flying by. And I've slept most of it. 

Not sure if it's depression or the Methotrexate medicine. Am not feeling well at all. No energy. Dr. Newsome suggested tripling the prescribed Folic Acid. It seems to help.

Am in more pain now than before the Psoriatic Arthritis diagnosis. Feet and hands mostly. 

My Nurse Practitioner is giving me a referral to a Rheumatologist closer than Dubois - Olean, actually.

We'll see if I get the same diagnosis and treatment plan. 

In happier news, the fingertip I sliced open is healing nicely. Still a bit tender, but the skin has grown back enough to mitigate the tenderness on the very end.

The garden is coming along in spite of several raids by the local doe. Have been eating Swiss Chard and Bok Choi and a bit of lettuce for a while. Summer squash is starting to come in and there looks to be one viable Zucchini in the making. Tiny tomatoes and peppers have emerged. The birdhouse gourds plants are very small. Not sure if they will grow at all.

Another hot day underway.

3 April 2020.

I come from a long line of gardeners. I remember my great grandmother's foundation and border plantings. She had an amazing sense of color and porportion. Her yard and flower beds could have been featured in any number of gardening magazines.

Along the grass and gravel driveway until the side stairs grew a low cut evergreen shrub. I'm guessing it was boxwood, but that's only a guess. I didn't pay much attention to shrubs back then. The front of the house also had evergreen shrubs, perhaps a type of juniper or arborvitea. 

The left side of the house had bridal wreath spirea. I remember it because of it's graceful, weeping habit and the pretty white flowers in spring. Plus the stinky smell of the blossoms.

The back north side of the house was lined with huge three-plus feet high ferns that were so thick you could hear them rustle in the breeze.