While
we were camping, my flower beds have been taken over by weeds. Lots
of them. That nasty invasive wild ginger has woven into the mulch and
is trying to crawl up the shrubs onto the brick. Poison ivy is growing
into saplings. Little maple trees have germinated from those
whirlygigs. Pokeweed, wild blackberries and privet are everywhere.
And I don't even want to talk about the crabgrass.
We
kept the lawn mowed between trips, but I didn't take the time to pull
weeds or trim. I'm making up for that now. I don't mind weeding,
really, but this much is nearly overwhelming. One section at a time,
and I'll get it done. It's the price I pay for living in the country
and having natural, unstructured flower beds instead of manicured
landscaping.
I
was thinking of using a blow torch on the wild ginger, but since I
mulch with pine needles that might set the whole yard on fire. At
least my arms are getting a workout yanking up the stuff, but my
hands are beginning to cramp. My trigger finger is sore from spot spraying
poison ivy that decided to sprout between my hosta plants and behind
the shrubs. If I could sell all the poison ivy on these five acres,
I'd be a bazillionaire.
Oh
yeah, thanks to the state highway workers who sort of mowed the right
of way while we were gone. They cut to the ground the iris and vinca under our
mailbox but trimmed carefully around a giant thistle plant and left
it standing.
On
a positive note, while I was taking a break I noticed hummingbirds
are enjoying my gorgeous daylilies and butterflies are flitting around the
purple coneflowers and blackeyed susans. If you need me this week, I'll be
outside weeding, or resting on the porch with an icy cold beverage,
or on the phone looking for a landscaping service.
When
weeding, the best way to make sure you are removing a weed and not a
valuable plant is to pull on it. If it comes out of the ground
easily, it is a valuable plant. ~Author Unknown
I
appreciate the misunderstanding I have had with Nature over my
perennial border. I think it is a flower garden; she thinks it is a
meadow lacking grass, and tries to correct the error. ~Sara Stein, My Weeds, 1988
