So, I gardened for an hour and a half (btw, didn't even touch the backyard) and, on my way to return the tools to the shed, I managed to pull my calf?! I actually heard a sickening pop. Holy cow (no pun intended), that is painful. And how I managed it, walking steadily after merely gardening is beyond me. (Yeah, gardening can be intense but it's just bending and crouching and leaning and pulling.) I've been elevating and icing and using arnica pellets and my arnica salve and walking carefully and stretching etc. Alas, I don't think this bodes well for a long weekend of errands - and whipping the back garden into an impressive state. Mind you, having lived through the terror of pertussis, I choose not to fuss overly. This is unlikely to kill me via suffocation and, if I have to lie on the couch and knit for a couple of days (between bouts of limited, conscious movement), so be it.
On the plus side, my front garden kicks ass. The outside water tap is broken on the inside of the house (as we discovered this week, needing for the first time this season to set up the soaker hose), and my newly planted things are struggling extensively. I finally borrowed the hose/water from my neighbours (our taps and gardens are within 5 feet of each other) but it might be a while before the plumber can come for our pipe and this long period of heat without rain has gone on for almost 2 weeks. It's crazy by Toronto standards. FWIW, by my standards it's awesome and could persist indefinitely (if I had a working soaker hose).
So, I've decided to content myself with a bottle of Rioja, a glass of iced tea and some brie with gluten-free crackers (they actually don't taste offensive). And the newly corrected cowl-neck sweater. The sun is shining and I have the house to myself. It could be worse.