Wholesome – word of the week

I stood in the garden wondering why next door’s builders were battling through the field hedge opposite our gate. It was the end of the day and they had lost something. By the looks of it, whatever was missing was important. The whole team was there, with brooms, ladders and poles, trying to evade the stinging nettles and brambles. It was taking time to find. I envisaged vehicle keys or a vital widget, needed to secure a ladder to the van’s roof. Suddenly a whoop went up. Two builders were dancing around. They’d found it. Something that I suspect most people around the world could relate to. Their football. “That’s wholesome” came a voice behind me.

My nineteen year old had joined me as I watched. She was right. I had spent the last two weeks dodging this team of builders, as they used our drive to access next door’s roof. They were polite and, each time I needed to drive out, they quickly moved their van or equipment out of the way, but it was a hassle. They created mountains of dust and noise. Leaving our gate open, so I couldn’t let Hero the hound out.

Football found, I watched them kicking it back and forward in the newly cut field. I guess they’d spotted the fresh field yesterday and brought a ball to finish off their week and let off steam.

She was right, it was wholesome.

Unless wholesome has a whole new meaning for this generation, but I didn’t ask her. I find it best not to sometimes. I’ll stick to my meaning.

Gardening

Life has settled into a pattern of work, garden and fitness classes for me. There is nothing like digging your fingers into the earth, at the end of the day, to plant lettuce seedlings. The slugs had all my squash and courgette plants, so I’ve been potting up my reserve plants ready to put out. Yet again thanking myself for sowing too many plants and not bearing to throw the excess away. Just as long as I can keep the wild pheasants out of my greenhouses, I should be OK. They love making dust baths in there and squashing my plants. Not that I think they mean to squash them, but they do.

I’ve sunk and tied up the hazel sticks, ready for the various beans to climb. We coppice poles from our own trees. These ones were cut about three years ago. They are starting to feel brittle, which means we’ll be cutting new ones for next year. They’ll do for one more season and then the current ones will go for firewood.

Fitness

Along with strength training and cardio, I’ve tried a few more classes at the gym. Some worked. Others not. I’ve settled on yoga and pilates, with a dollop of “Legs, bums and tums” class. I remember doing LBT in the 90s, so it feels wholesome to be back doing it again, minus the leg warmers. Same music though. Sometimes.

The classes are really friendly and the teachers are good. I go in the morning, so it’s mostly older people there, but there is a complete mix. I think a good number of them must go to every class available and start their day doing two or three hours of exercise, five days a week. (Not an option for those of us who are squeezing it in during our work day) They are amazing and put my fitness to shame. As I’ve become a regular, more of them greet me and chat. It’s quite a change after spending most of my working life working by myself, but I like it. Although trying to balance on one leg, while giggling at someone’s latest exploits that they are sharing with the class, has to be a whole new level of hard.

My balance is getting better.

Food

With all this fitness, I am keeping an eye on our meals too. I’m learning more about my body and what wholesome food it needs. The rest of the family have no choice but to come along for the ride. I’m the main cook. This week, I made my first risotto from scratch and I will never go back to the packet method. I’ve not missed the snacks either and am drinking more water. Early days, but I’m starting to see a change. I managed to run up most of our dog walking hill one morning, with Hero, so my stamina must be improving.

Lasts

There was a school meeting one evening. Youngest has an overseas school trip coming up. We went for an information evening and I realised that, despite him having another year at the school, it was probably the last time I’ll go into school. Eleven/twelve years and that was probably it for me. An era is quietly drawing to an end. Also squeezed in a last orthodontist appointment for Middle daughter and a check up for Youngest, this week. Definitely not his last, but that won’t be far off.

As for the builders, they finished off playing football, without losing it again, and left for the week. Quiet again, until Monday, when I’ll be back to dodging them on my way to the gym.

That is my week.  Joining in with Anne’s word of the week.