Author: Flower Roberts

My New Left Hip and My New Attitude

| Flower Roberts

Today was the day! I now have two new hips with double balls. My right hip was first replaced in August 2024 and then  revised in June 2025, after three dislocations which involved three ambulance rides to three different Emergency Rooms.

I have been in almost constant pain for ninteen months, due to an arthritic right  which was replaced with a faulty prosthetic hip and an accident which jammed my left hip just three weeks before schdeuled first replacement of the right one.  Blah!

I am not a graceful person. I have spent my life focusing on the physical work I was accomplishing. I used my body like a machine, or maybe like a man does, or like  fool does? Well that habit has backfired.

This is my sixth joint surgery; one shoulder, two knee replacements, two hip replacements and one hip revision. I am only sixty-four.

I am lying in the hospital bed tonight thinking and blogging between nurse visits, because there is no point in trying to actually sleep in a hospital.

What lessons have I learned from this long, painful journey?

First, I have always tried too hard. I will NOT place blame on Daddy who wanted a son, or Mama who wanted a little lady, or even my sister who wanted a playmate sister instead of an introvert who dug in the dirt. I have continued to try too hard through adulthood. Maybe I felt I needed to prove my worth as the youngest child or earn my value as a non-boy. I am still trying to figure all that out. Do not hold your breath for the answer.

Daddy and his girls.

I have finally stopped this over-achieverness because I could not be Wonder Woman while waddling around with canes and walkers,  grimacing and crackling like an old crone.

My friends and family have warned me NOT to fall back into my go-for-broke patterns after my new left hip heals.

Next, I treat myself like somebody else now. I have tried to be kind to my body and mind after years of mis-using them like appliances that can be fixed. There will be more careful planning and pausing from now on. I will be spending funds to hire others to do things I should not have been doing at all, much less solo. I will work smarter NOT harder.

I will stop with one LAST epiphany that I noticed about my new self today.  This may also be of value to you.

“To be part of a team, you must be part of a team. “

I have tried to be the whole team, instead of team a member. I have no super powers nor am I a genius. WTF Flower?

NOW,  I will focus on doing what is essential and needed. I will ask for help when I need it. I will tell folks what I need. They are not mind-readers and neither am I. Flower will quit showing off!

I have always been determined to be independent and do things without the help of others while also insisting on helping others.  Who do I think I am? I feel compelled to improve conditions wherever I am. That is not admirable. It’s OCD! Why is this true Biddle Boo?  I have usually refused help that was gladly and lovingly offered out of stubborness and pride.

It has taken ninteen months of brokenness for me to realize that the ebbs and flows of life are natural. I can quit shoveling sand against the tide like a maniac.  I can stop trying to prove I am as tough as my Daddy,  or as smart and pretty as my Mama or as extroverted and popular as my sister.

I will be just me…no pearls, no curls,  and no merit badges, but I will wear a shirt. Ha

The ladies and me.

I plan on thinking more and hiking more.

I will be pausing to observe and enjoy.

It’s about damn time!

FLOW

Bloom When You Can

| Flower Roberts

It is October 21 today. Mr. Flower just sent me this photo of one of the daylilies. This one is in the Bunny Yard, which no longer has bunnies. Instead it is visited by the neighborhood ground hog. The fence keeps out the deer herd.


My home garden has gotten very little attention from me in two summers. This bloom may not look like much to you, but to me it is a message of hope.


This ‘Breed Apart’ daylily is showing its grit. It is exhibiting resilience. ‘Breed Apart’ is  budding up and blooming in Autumn despite neglect, drought, and cold.

Breed Apart daylily


‘Breed Apart’ showed up and did what it was supposed to do. It bloomed where it was planted.

“Grow where you are planted.”

I have said this to my daughter, Rose, many times. Her life has been peppered with less than ideal conditions. She has grown and bloomed despite this.

Sometimes the “where” is not optimum. In this case the “when” is not optimum. But here are the lovely faces of ‘ Breed Apart’ in October.

Blooming in late October

I apprecite the survivors. They are beacons for what can be accomplished even under challenging circumstances.

I would like to salute and celebrate all the BREED APART survivors who bloom where and when they can.

FLOWER

In honor and memory of NOBODY’S GIRL.

The Storytellers’ Chairs

| Flower Roberts

Now that the Zebra table has been restored, I can focus my attention on the storytellers’ chairs.

Our Gorgeous Zebra

These chairs were in the lovely home of my maternal grandparents, which was full of many interesting things.


In my first memory of this pair of chairs, they were mossy green in a livingroom with green carpet. A big picture window looked out onto Hibriten Mountain. Their house was perched high on a hill. The street name was Ridgecrest.

The green wingbacks were one of the places our Grannypaw sat to tell stories. The grandchildren would gather around on the  carpet to listen to his stories and jokes.

Grannypaw telling stories in the green wingback chair.

While all this sitting and talking was going on;  my Gran, Mama and the aunts visited in the kitchen while they cooked and cleaned up. The significance of this tradition did not dawn on me until I became one of the women in the kitchen.

My maternal grandparents

When the Ridgecrest home was sold, the two wingbacks were moved to our home on  Enwood. My mama had them recovered in a soft coral-pink shade of velvet.

One of the pair eventually got moved to the corner of the den. My sis and I called this corner Hong Kong because Daddy seemed to be far away as he sat silently sipping coffee.

My Daddy in Hong Kong

The other chair was put in our livingroom which also had green carpet and a big picture window. My daddy sat here to tell stories, listen to music and listen to my mama play her piano. He would sit in this chair when we had company and tell stories.

Daddy at Christmas


Several years back the wingbacks’ bottoms began to sag. We feared a guest would fall through, so we placed footstools under their seats. This is embarassingly tacky, but it was better than embarrassing or endangering a guest. When we transported the pair to the mountain house, the footstools came, too.

Footstool reinforcements under saggy seats.

Mr. Flower and I loaded up the two Storytellers’ Chairs into our truck today. We drove them off our mountains, through some hollars and hills and then climbed up onto another mountain near Boone.

Two wingbacks and a roll of new, blue fabric.

The pair has been delivered to a furniture rehab facility to get their seats shored up and covered in a soft, sky-blue, leather-like vinyl.

Wingbacks in the workshop.

We look forward to the pair’s rehab and return. Then some of the younger folks need to take over the storytelling tradition. Wonder where we can find some?

FLOWER

Our Gorgeous Zebra

| Flower Roberts

The Zebra just got delivered. It could not be more beautiful. I cannot stop crying. The Zebra’s long journey is over. It is restored to its proper glory. My Daddy would be marveling at the craftsmanship that was hidden under the dark stain and dirt.

Those legs!

The Zebra is just plain gorgeous. The artists at Restoration House in Blowing Rock, NC brought it back to life to be loved by many more generations of our family. Thank you Klutz family!

Two artists from Restoration House, Blowing Rock, NC


I took photos of all sides, legs, tops, wooden wheels, drawer and back. (which is too pretty to be against a wall).

Beautiful back of the Zebra

It will stay in the middle of the great room beside Daddy’s chair, so we can see it and pet it for a bit.

Bottom shelf is still zebra.

The Zebra top veneer was replaced by solid oak. That old veneer was missing a corner, crackly and warped. Now, the top is solid and ready to be used.

Oak top, drawer open

I am proud of the three or more generations of my family for having the insight to save it and transport it. It is finally where it belongs.

The Zebra’s tiny, wooden wheels.

My heart is full. I only wish Daddy could have seen it. But maybe he can.

FLOWER loves the Zebra and her Daddy

Four Legs of a Zebra

Our Macho Zebra

Our Macho Zebra

| Flower Roberts

I got a call that the refurbished Zebra was almost ready. I let the experts choose the stain color. When Ruth said the name of the stain over the phone, I knew Daddy must have been involved.

Our Precious Daddy

My sister and I used to get so silly that we rattled our usually calm father. When this happened, he would get tongue twisted and use the wrong words. This would make us squeal with delight, because we thought it was so cute. Our laughing would get him even more flustered and his face would turn red. 

We have favorite stories about poor Daddy mis-speaking followed by our shrieking. One of these involved Daddy using the term mocha instead of macho. He would just grin when we repeated ” He thinks he’s so MOCHA.”

All pieces of our clean Zebra ready for Restoration House.

When Ruth said the stain they chose was named MOCHA, I laughed outloud and said that sounded perfect. I immediately called my sister to report that our Zebra was going to be MACHO.

Now, I can share the before photos of our famous Zebra foyer table. This is a big deal to me. Our Zebra will finally be restored and put in our family home.

Four dirty legs with little dusty wooden wheels.
Missing piece of Zebra veneer off the top.
One leg and the lower shelf.
The lower shelf’s Zebra veneer not as damaged.
Filthy dirty Zebra bottom of top.
Top, middle and four legs.

Get ready to see the refurbished

“MACHO ZEBRA” … HOORAY

Excited FLOWER

Surviving and/or Thriving

| Flower Roberts

Yesterday was the day of the potted plant migration into my workshop. I am pleased that there is a lot more room in there this fall due to the purging and adoptions. I can easily get to my art supplies. I am able to walk all the way around the workbench to water and preen my green treasures.

Once I had every plant in an optimum spot, I took an assessment of the condition of each. These are the survivors. I have given many away, but many also died during my absence. I do not push my plants with strong boluses of fertilizer. I am a coaxer. This type of care gets them ready for the long game. Slow and steady gets them ready.

After I prepped all plants, I asked myself if each was thriving or just surviving. I made mental notes of which ones did not bloom this year. There were quite a few.

The hoyas did not bloom. These long arms should not be shortened,  because the blooms form on the ends. This one is going to a new home today.

Hoya

The two surviving woody hibiscus plants from the Hibiscus Circus did not bloom. There was one bud on each now. I wemt ahead and chopped it back mercilessly.

Hibiscus

My precious Night Blooming Cereus plants did not bloom. I am glad I could enjoy the many blooms on my friend Palmer’s miraculous plant that he adopted from me years ago.

Night Blooming Cereus

The Bird of Paradise has never bloomed. It requires a greenhouse or a conservatory to thrive in. It needs a new home. A big, warm,  new home. Its blooms are supposed to be white. Any takers?

White Bird of Paradise

My precious Clivias did not bloom. Neither my yellow ‘Good Hope’ nor my orange ‘Fire Lily’ put up a stalk this year. These will be spending the winter with me. I count on those glorious blooms in early spring.

Clivias

To bloom well, plants must have optimum conditions for thriving.  But do not take surviving for granted. It takes grit. Picky, needy plants are greedy plants.

I think this country is going to learn some lessons about grit like it did during the dust bowl and the depression. The lessons will be difficult. Some may not survive. Maybe we need to read Steinbeck instead of Epstein.

FLOW

More Relief and Less Grief

| Flower Roberts

I have just done a potted plant and garden inspection with a walking stick. Not my usual shovel. I did not need the temptation!

I ate my first and last tiny tomato from the garden today.

Tommy toe snack

There is still a good crop of jalapeno peppers to be harvested. We make crazy hot poppers that make folks cry.

Jalapenos

I am proud that I have found new homes for so many of my potted, green babies. The migration of pots going inside today will be so much easier. Mr. Flower and my son will be in charge. They know the drill.

Ric rac/ fish bone cactus

The Schlumbergera survived and benefited from a nip of cold. Some are even budding up. My collection used to be 3x this size.

Schlumbergeras

Some of my pickiest plants died in my absence. I have mixed feelings about these losses. I regret their demise, but not a tear was shed. No guilt was felt. My attachment to them was not strong. There was more relief than grief.

Epipyphyllum and black elephants

Some tiny treasures disappeared. I do not know if they died or were eaten. Many hypertufa troughs are totally empty. My  fences were breached in several locations. We have deer, rabbits, raccoons, foxes, possums and ground hogs at the lake house. It has been a thirty-year battle to garden here. I am not up to it anymore.  My efforts are best spent elsewhere. Boundaries is my new mantra!

Fence corner pushed apart.

I was happy to see the little Chinese Dunce Caps blooming. These are treasured and tucked in a safe spot in the rock wall, but still need some attention.

Chinese Dunce Cap

I will accept the fate of my plants. No matter relief or grief. I have been shoveling sand against the tide for too long here.

It’s time for relief!

FLOW

Giant Wooly Bears Tumble and Roll but do NOT Sting nor Predict Weather

| Flower Roberts

I try not to keep my house and garden too clean. It makes visitors uncomfortable and intimidated. No white gloves inside and only dirty garden gloves outside. I want all to feel welcome.

I used a leaf blower today to clean off the porches, patio and door jambs and door slabs outside. The wind was blowing, so I was in a leaf tornado when I spotted a fuzzy black ball rolling away from the doorway.

Giant Wooly Bear

The blowing had dislodged one of my little friends from its hiding place. I took the opportunity to take some photos before recreating the mess I had just moved.

This caterpillar is hairy but NOT poisonous or stinging like many that have bristles/setae. Its best not to pick the bristly ones up. Some of the cutest ones give painful stings.

Its name is Giant Wooly Bear. It does NOT predict the winter length and harshness. Neither does the Banded Wooly Bear which has black ends and a brown middle..but that’s another story.

This Giant Wooly Bear is the caterpillar stage of the Giant Leopard Moth. The species name is Hypercompe scribonia. I had to use the internet to look this up. I found all kinds of misinformation and even how to keep them as pets. All this gave me a headache.

Let’s focus on what I know.

The shiny black setae/hairs are arranged in star-like tufts that do NOT sting. The tufts deter predators which usually do not like fuzz in their mouths and throats.

Non-stinging setae/tufts

The red-orange bands only show when it rolls up to protect itself. Red is a warning color to would-be predators. 

Giant Wooly Bears roll up really tightly holding the tail and mouth together. Do not try to pry them open. You will cause harm.

Enjoy carefully looking at any caterpillar and then put it back where you found it. You would not like being taken out of ypur home and moved to a foreign location would you?

But that’s another story.

FLOWER with a blower.