Ronda Rich

Syndicated Columnist

A new year has begun and this makes me very happy. Good riddance to 2025.

The Good Book instructs, “pride goeth before destruction.” My pride almost killed me this year.

All my life, I have enjoyed good health. Yet, I never appreciated it like it is meant to be appreciated. In fact, I bragged about it. Since I had a sinus infection eight years ago, I have not been sick except for migraines. I exercise, drink water and mostly eat well.

“I’m never sick,” I said often. No meaning to brag. Still I often said it.

My lesson has been learned. The worst happened back in the summer. I pretty much hate cell phones. I hate having a quiet walk, thinking creatively, playing music that inspires me then the phone rings. I had solved this, at one point, because I had an old iPod. I could work on the Rondarosa, listen to music and not be interrupted by calls or texts. Then, one day in 2025, we were burning brush and limbs when the iPod flipped out of my shirt pocket and into the fire.

Did you know Apple doesn’t make iPods anymore?

I outsmarted them and bought another one when they announced a few years ago that the iPod was going away. Proudly – there’s that word again – I produced the new one out of the box but it wouldn’t download the music. Antiquated.

We live two miles from a cell tower, but the reception is so poor that we keep two landlines in order to conduct business. If the Lord gave me back the time I spend looking for my phone, it would make up for the time that AT&T has deducted from my life in aggravation.

However, I may owe my cell phone and AT&T an apology. Tink was out of town one weekend. I had done my barn chores that morning but decided to go back to the barn to check on an ailing horse. Taking a shortcut, I stepped up on a low stone wall with a flat rock top. I caught the toe of my boot on the wall’s lip and, immediately, I knew it wasn’t going to be good.

I flipped backwards, flying through the air, landing in an enormous hydrangea brush in full, glorious bloom.

A word about this plant known as the “Dooley Hydrangea.” It is a hybrid hydrangea that former SEC football coach and master gardener Vince Dooley created in the 1960s when he bred two different hydrangeas together. It is heralded as the only hydrangea able to survive a late spring freeze and still bloom.

Seventeen years ago, I was having dinner with Dooley and his wife, Barbara, at their house. As we discussed gardening, I mentioned in passing that I would love to have a cutting of the Dooley hydrangea sometime. It was a humid, miserable August night. After dinner, Dooley disappeared for a while. He came in the back door, soaked in sweat, toting a nice sized Dooley hydrangea that he had dug up in his yard. He then instructed me how to plant it to get the perfect light.

In full bloom, it is about six feet around and five feet tall. It was more beautiful this year than ever before. The blossoms were countless and huge.

My backward leap landed me in the midst of the bush, breaking my fall and helping to soften the blow when my head hit the edge of a stone step. I was knocked dizzy but, for once, had my phone in my hand. I couldn’t remember my husband’s name but called a friend who realized immediately, I was garbling. She called Tink, then called me back, keeping me alert on the phone until he arrived.

A night in the hospital, babbling out of one’s head does a lot to a person’s pride.

In words of the mountain folks, I’ve been ‘umbled.

Ronda Rich is the best-selling author of “A Merry Chatty Christmas.” Visit www.rondarich.com to sign up for her free newsletter.