It is a regrettable fact that as we age we have less energy, less physical strength, less 'get up and go' than earlier in our lives. This is an incontrovertible fact, but one which most of us try to deny, or at least ignore, for as long as possible.
Personally, I never admit a physical task is beyond my current abilities until it becomes self-evident.
This was brought home to me again this morning. That's twice this week - first of all brass cleaning in church - and secondly today, attempting to cut down my poor dead Grevillea. Oh what a mammoth task (which is of course, why I've put it off for so long) this has proved to be.
This once beautifull and comparatively rare shrub was my pride and joy, until this Winter's spitefull and relentless cold, followed by weeks of drought turned its green spines to a murky, rusty looking brown.
I waited in vain for enough rain to rescue it, and watered the one little green bit near the base for a week or two and finally had to admit defeat. This being a day when I normally take it easy until evening's choir practice, seemed as good a time as any to tackle it.
An hour and a half later, back aching, thumbs and wrists painfull (I have arthritis in my hands), and with only about half of it cut down I had to stop. I haven't even attempted to gather up the evil spines and bag them up for collection, so they are sitting in the front garden like an early offering for fifth of November, and there they will remain until the next rush of energy arrives.
What is left to be cut is rather more like a miniature forest than the lower branches of a shrub so it is possible I may have to call on someone else to do the cutting.
Oh how I hate being beaten, but even my mostly abundant energy is flagging and I am reluctantly being forced to recognize that I am no longer 30 (or 40, or50 etc). Galling but inescapeable.
Another step down the slippery slope or maybe just a blip. Time will tell!