A view from my garden

I am broken down, and so is the tiller. Not a very good start for what appears to be an early spring. And yet these warming days and unpredictable nights are lovely, as is Mt. Baldy when he peeks out of the clouds. "Springtime in the Rockies" is the old song that runs in my head now.; so very welcome after all the grey skies of a northern Rockies winter.
So, what to do? I can at least get the tomatoes started, and some lettuce and peas outside. I soak the peas between damp paper towels until they have sent out their little first root, then they do not have to stay in the cold ground so long before sprouting. They germinate freely this way/
There is so much clean-up still to be done; shredding and moving compost, digging what must be done by hand, and if the tiller is not back soon, then finding another to rent or borrow, for I cannot do it all by hand anymore. I hate to admit it, but the years are taking their toll even though I beat them back with the biggest stick I can wield!
On touring the garden, I find that spring is here, ready or not, for the daffodils are up, the lilacs are budding, and the forsythia, in its fourth year, is covered from head to toe with bright yellow blooms! How I have waited for this forsythia to find its place and begin to really perform.
In my life I have planted too many forsythias and too many roses, and then moved on, leaving them for someone else to enjoy. This is not a bad thing to do. Giving, even of plant life, is what we should be doing, and so I look back and admire that string of roses and forsythia; after all, what can one do with one’s favorite plants except plant them, even when it takes several years for them to become truly worthwhile, and when you already know the gardener is a gypsy, a basically incompatible situation.
I had a woman bring m4e her house plants recently; a sorry lot, though basically healthy. At the encouragement of her husband she had decided to find them a better home. I know the feeling; sometimes it is better to remove one source of endless guilt when life becomes too demanding. I am happy to report that each one is doing well and that a beautifully planted basket is flourishing to the point where it must be separated. It has a Dracena, a small red striped one, very good looking among the pothos and ivy. I just gave a friend a Dracena that is fully seven feet tall, for her new high-ceilinged house. So it seems that I am launched on another several years of growing this new Dracena through all its interesting stages.
Life is full and, shall I say, rewarding? Even though sometimes the tiller breaks down and is not ready for spring plowing (in 35 years, this is not the first time this has happened) and even though I am not at my own usual 100% level, but only somewhere near. Spring and new growth, and help from my friends. What can be better in this life?