Bruce and I texted and called each other throughout the morning, so we were feeling pretty much together anyway. Yesterday, the plan had been for Bruce to come home on Sunday. All of this changed today when it was discovered that we live too far out of town for a physical therapist to come to the house and work with Bruce. So this afternoon Bruce called me to say that he'd be going to a nursing home for about a week to get his strength back. I understand that this is definitely for the best, but....I had to get over feeling bereft that he isn't coming home tomorrow. I lay around for awhile and drank tea, but just felt sadder and sadder.
So I did the only thing I could think of to lift my spirits: Yes, I planted potatoes. Three rows in the raised bed in the orchard garden. First I had to rip out all of last years dead vegetable stalks, then I trundled down three cartloads of compost and raked that smooth. Then I formed three trenches and laid them with 10 pounds of German Butterball seed potatoes. I got it all raked and watered in just as the sun set. As the dogs and three of the cats went up to the house with me, I realized that although not exactly feeling happy, I felt more like my old self.
One very good thing is that the nursing home will be in Stockton, so I won't have to drive so far to visit Bruce. And he'll regain his strength in surroundings where he'll be safe and under supervision -- plus he won't be in any situations where he'll be tempted to try to do something that he's not strong enough to do.
Oh, but it will be good to have him home again!