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Spent the entire Easter Triduum in town, doing miscellaneous work on Lenore's house on Holy Thursday and Good Friday. On Holy Saturday, cutting dead branches out of a tree, a dumb miscalculation, and I fell 15 feet onto my head. A painful and frightening incident; I'm grateful to have come through with only some back pain and severe stiffness - could've been much worse. I am still extremely stiff & sore, and must take frequent breaks.

Today is quite warm, and I do manage to plant about 250 or 300 hills of potatoes, including some little pink ones from last year's seed-originated plants. The small size, I think, is because they were from seed, and so had to grow from scratch, so to speak. Planting these tubers may (I hope) yield potatoes of normal size. I'm anxious to see how they grow and yield. Now, here's a thought: if the seeds represented a mixed parentage, then these pink-skinned potatoes are a new genetic combination, and deserve a name of their own. How about 'Rose Spuds'?

I also put the seed carrots and beets into the ground, and newly purchased non-hybrid pie pumpkin seeds. I notice peas germinating in the southwest patch (Yay!), and it's sunny enough to use sun-warmed water for my bath again.

A card from Lenore, offering prayers for my quick healing. The stiffness is loosening up somewhat, and full recovery is probably just a few days away. But this is a reminder of my own fragility, especially sobering in my current situation. I really have no backup plan, no margin for error, in this endeavor. No one to pick up the slack if I should fail. It is not good for man to be alone.