Last time I posted a blog, I was all excited about going to work at Hasting Plants, which had been high on my “bucket list” for many years.  It’s about a month later, and I love everything about working there, but confess there were times I wanted to beg for mercy.  Here’s why:

After the marathon tomato transplanting (see DonaB’s First Day), we were each given transplanting tasks in separate greenhouses.  This task included hauling 1,000-pound bags of potting soil (OK, maybe I’m exaggerating a tiny bit), filling empty pots with said potting soil and then transplanting tiny, tiny, tiny seedlings to said pots; transporting said pots to their designated location, then going back to the potting bench and doing it all again.  Piece o’ Cake, right?  It wouldn’t have been so bad if my back muscles had not decided to mutiny.  After 18 years of being a desk jockey, and one year of doing pretty much nothing because of COVID-19, I was now asking all my muscles to do what they had not done in many (OK, 40 years).  Although my other muscles did their best for the Home Team, my back muscles began aching by 10 a.m. and by 1 p.m. they were burning.  I honestly thought I might have to resign from my bucket list job because my back was a weeny.  But I couldn’t…pride wouldn’t let me.

Dealing with the pain

So, I took too many ibuprofen tablets in the morning and too many Tylenol tablets at noon and still remained in agonizing pain.  I found that if I could lay on a pallet of potting soil, with my back arched and my head hanging down for even a few seconds, it helped.  So, imagine me looking in all directions to make certain no one was watching, then lying down a pallet of cold potting soil, waiting for my back to pop, then bouncing up and going back to the potting bench (hoping no one saw me).

I couldn’t cry “UNCLE”. It would have been so embarrassing because every person I worked with (except two) were older than me. I would NOT admit I couldn’t do what they were doing.  For example, “L” is 96 years old, very bent over from back troubles and losing her eyesight, but she transplants the tiniest, most delicate seedlings with elegant precision.  Her blue eyes, nearly perfect complexion and silver hair certainly bely her age, but she reminds us, “Getting old isn’t easy”.

My inspiring co-workers

“JA” is another “old timer” at the greenhouses.  She’s had four heart failures and nearly died.  She drives “L” to the greenhouse and puts in a full day’s work.  A more giving and loving person I’ve never met.

“B” has two really bad knees, but delayed knee replacement surgery so she could work this season.  She’s on her feet and / or moving constantly – not that she complains.

“Bb” handles the gift shop, wears a back brace and stands most of the day on a concrete floor.

Nancy outworks a high school football team.  She is working when we get there in the morning and working when we leave at night.  She has the patience of a Saint, and although the two “newbies”, “LS” and I have made a few (OK, several) mistakes, she never is anything but encouraging.

Getting Better

I have figured out that my back hurt because of my really poor posture.  When I remember to keep my hips forward, my backside muscles tight, my tummy tucked in, and my shoulders back and down, it doesn’t’ hurt nearly as badly.  I haven’t needed ibuprofen or Tylenol in several days.  I hate that I spent so much time in pain because of bad posture, but at least I’m better now.

Sooo…the last few days, we’ve morphed from transplanting to customer service.  People are just desperate to get out to the greenhouse, pick up some plants and start gardening (even though our last official frost date is April 15 – still a couple of weeks off).  More adventures await!

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The photo is of my first bench of plants I transplanted all by myself.  Stay Green, Good Friends!