Every morning I spend about an hour pulling and digging weeds. Granted, I get side-tracked at times with rearranging books in our little library or pulling off expired petunias, but I have realized that after our long, wet spring, weeds flourish. I’ve also realized that if I skip a few days or take a short trip away, the weeds have not skipped nor vacationed, but instead have taken advantage of my absence to grow left, right, and center.
In the old days, just a few years ago, dandelions proved to be my nemesis. Left unattended the blossoms quickly turned to parachuting seedlings that once landed, implanted and brought forth more dandies.
At a young age I had my grandchildren engage in dandelion assault – “Grandma!! Come here – there’s another ugly one to dig.” With digger in hand and a spray bottle of poison, we handled the scene together to demolish my mortal enemies. Friends would mention making dandelion wine; grandkids occasionally dropped the battle and created bouquets. However, with diligence and Weed and Feed, these creepers can be fairly well eliminated. Even when others let them thrive, the floating possibilities tend to avoid my yard. Word is out – I am the destroyer of these yellow demons.
Now comes a new set of problems. In the past I have complained about members of the Euphorbia family such as prostrate sandman and purple spurge. Both are prolific but usually I can overcome their invasion by July.
This summer is another story. The more I yank and tug, the more quickly they return, especially the sandman. One tiny root clinging to an earthly home soon re-emerges, covering gravel areas and open garden space. They remind me of our hog farming days when we’d haul a load of 60 to Dixon, California, and return to find 65 had been born. Yes, the piglets provided funding, but they also multiplied our work.
In the spring, bur buttercups covered the desert. These sneaky critters start with a cute, winking flower but rapidly transform into horrible, painful burrs that prick fingers when the plant is pulled and draw blood in bare feet that accidently encounter one on the floor. I tugged them out like mad last year and still they returned. As I crawled around again this year I noticed that dead burrs were embedded in the gravel, just waiting for a chance to sprout. Besides the agony these weeds cause me, even worse is the name – buttercup? Buttercup? I use that word as a term of endearment. There is nothing dear about these noxious weeds.
Another agonizing weed is the old faithful goat-head also known as puncture vine. I don’t imagine that there is a cyclist in Nevada who has not lost air over this cruel growth. Carrying Fix a Flat or tire repair kit is recommended, even for a trip around the block. I have almost defeated these through attentive persistence. When a tiny leaf peeps out, I quickly grab it then solemnly bury it in the trash. I know some of the heads hide, waiting for another opportunity, and others come home in the soles of my shoes. I carefully extract them after a walk, but inevitably one escapes me, to return in my stockinged foot.
Fortunately, Russian thistle has been kept at bay in my neighborhood. It is another weed that when left alone breeds like crazy. Entire roadsides or fields can be eaten up in a short time and extraction becomes impossible, or at minimum a lifelong struggle to contain them. Last year at the cabin I spied three of these on my running route. The next day I jogged with bag in hand and wrenched them from the ground and foisted them in my bag. I continued this pursuit throughout vacation feeling positive about my determination. When I left, though, “to what should my wondering eyes should appear”? Thistle. I texted my sister, described the exact location, and requested that she end their lives. Of course, thinking heat exhaustion had overtaken me, she ignored my plea. This May I checked the spot for the culprits to no avail. Success! This became short-lived when I discovered a patch of these monsters along a nearly deserted trail and while I cannot guarantee it, it looked as if deer had stomped the area and munched on young thistle shoots earlier in the year. Is this possible? At any rate, happy weeding to us all!