I thought about doing a handstand the other day
I thought about doing a handstand the other day.
Not for any good reason. No yoga mat. No warm-up. Just a fleeting thought that drifted through my brain while I was in the garden.
In my twenties, that thought would’ve been immediately followed by action. In my thirties, maybe a brief stretch and then action. At 51, it was followed by a pause, a deep internal scan of my joints, and the clear, undeniable understanding that this would not end well.
Because at 51, there are a lot of things I think about doing and then think better of. Jumping down off retaining walls. Twisting quickly. Twisting slowly. Rolling over in bed without some sort of mental risk assessment. A handstand now falls firmly into the category of absolutely not.
And yet, every day, I garden.
They say if you don’t use it, you lose it. Mobility, strength, balance - all of it quietly packs its bags and leaves if you stop moving. So, I use it. I bend, stretch, lift, dig, squat, haul, reach, crouch and shuffle about the garden like a woman determined to keep her joints guessing.
The problem is… using it hurts. Not at the time. Always after the fact. But hurts all the same.
Somewhere along the line, gardening stopped being a wholesome hobby and became a full-contact sport with consequences. By the end of a good day in the garden, I’m often moving about the house like a 90-year-old, making small involuntary noises every time I stand up, sit down, or dare to change direction too quickly. Stairs become a suggestion rather than a certainty.
I’ve accumulated memberships in several clubs I never knowingly joined.
There’s the Pulled-a-Muscle-While-Sleeping Club, which really feels like a personal betrayal.
The Tennis Elbow but Somehow It’s in Your Knee Club, brought to you by repetitive spade work and poor life choices.
And the How Is That Even Injured When I Didn’t Do Anything Club, where pain arrives unannounced and refuses to explain itself.
I’m also, whether I like it or not, a fully paid-up member of the If You’re Passing a Toilet, Always Do a Precautionary Wee Club. You might not need to. You might be perfectly fine. But middle age has taught me that ignoring a conveniently located toilet is both arrogant and risky.
Gardening, they say, is good for your health. And it is. It’s good for your heart, your head, your mood. Digging in the dirt lowers stress, calms the nervous system, and brings an enormous sense of satisfaction - especially when something you planted actually survives your care.
But it’s also, for the middle-aged gardener, a perilous journey.
There are squats involved. Awkward reaches. Long periods spent hunched over pretending your spine is fine with this arrangement. There’s lifting bags of compost that feel heavier every year, and kneeling down only to discover that standing back up now requires a small plan and possibly a nearby solid object.
I stretch. I hydrate. I tell myself I’ll “take it easy today” and then get carried away because I just want to finish that one last thing, which is never one last thing. It’s five last things and a side quest involving pruning something I absolutely didn’t come out to prune.
At this stage, I do feel I made a questionable life choice in who I married. In hindsight, I really should have married a deep-tissue massage therapist. Or a chiropractor. Or preferably an orthopaedic surgeon. Instead, I married an airline pilot, which is lovely in many ways, but does very little for my sore knees and back at the end of a long day digging in the dirt.
And yet, despite the aches, the twinges, the mysterious pains that appear overnight like unwanted garden volunteers, I keep going out there.
Because gardening makes me happy. It gives me purpose, routine, and a sense that my body is still capable, even if it occasionally sends strongly worded complaints. I may not be doing handstands anymore, but I’m still moving. Still lifting. Still learning where my limits are (usually after I’ve found them the hard way).
At 51, I don’t bounce like I used to. I creak. I crack. I think twice. But I also know that stopping isn’t the answer. I’ll take sore muscles over stiff ones. I’ll take the odd limp over sitting still wondering where my strength went.
So I’ll keep gardening. Carefully. Enthusiastically. Possibly with knee pads, a heating pad waiting inside, and a healthy respect for my own mortality.
And the handstand?
Let’s not get carried away.
Did you know?
Some seeds won’t germinate unless their hard outer coat is damaged first. In nature this happens through fire, frost, weathering, or even passing through an animal’s gut, so gardeners mimic it with scarification or soaking to kick-start growth. Big, shiny, hard seeds sometimes need help. If a seed feels like it could survive the apocalypse, it probably needs scarifying, heat, or cold before it’ll grow.
What to do in the garden this week
Northern hemisphere
🌹In milder regions, start pruning roses in late January. In colder areas, wait a bit longer.
🌸If you didn’t do it in autumn, cut back spent perennials, unless you are leaving them for the wildlife.
🫛Under cover you can sow onions, leeks, early lettuce and in milder climates, broad beans. Check your stored crops and remove anything that’s started to rot.
🌡️Ventilate your greenhouse on mild days to reduce dampness, mould and fungal issues.
🌱Clean pots and seed trays ready for spring sowing.
♠️Clean and repair garden tools and sharpen secateurs.
Southern hemisphere
🌳If you’re having a particularly dry summer, don’t forget to deep water your young trees occasionally. We all remember our garden beds, but not always our trees.
🌼Cut back spent annuals.
🍅Harvest your veggies daily - some of them get away on you quite fast.
🌱For late summer or autumn crops you can sow carrots, beetroot, silverbeet, lettuce, radish, and spring onions now.
🫛Leafy greens might bolt in the heat. You can help prevent this by providing some shade.
🌹Pot plants need daily water in the height of summer - sometimes twice daily in extreme heat. You can move them into shade if it’s very hot, or mulch the soil just like you do in the garden to help retain moisture.
Photo: after the spring flush was deadheaded, the roses are now coming back for their second round of blooms. This one is Cuppa Tea, new to me this year, and a definite contender for ‘Kate’s favourite rose’. The white blooms behind are Hydrangea Annabelle.
What’s new on Behind the Garden Gate?
🌼Nitty Gritty: this week it’s all about plant spacing - when you need to follow the rules, and when you don’t. That’s right! I break gardening rules, but only sometimes, and only to get the desired result. This blog post lets you know exactly when I stick to the rules, and on what occasions I ruthlessly jam the plants in with intention.
🤨You know those days when…. The Husband had no comeback after I created chaos and carnage in the garden. The moral of the story? Ask permission first.
📷Snapshot Shed: photos to inspire and provide you with ideas for your own garden.
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Photo: This is Chocolate Prince rose. It’s a beautiful dusky red with a mild fragrance. It’s definitely one of my favourites.