Weeds– very plural


Today, there are two posts for one reason: I couldn’t abide having the Hummel picture at the top of my blog.

I would rather have a weed.

my sworn enemy

Like I say in the Hummel blog, Some People (I’m waving my arms like crazy here!) just don’t appreciate Hummels.

The pictured weed was the first to poke its unwelcome little head up out of my “grass,” or more precisely, the area which in most people’s yards is devoted to an admirable green swath of lovingly-tended festuca glauca or ovina, poa pratensis, you know: Grass.

Our visitors are greeted by, yep, weeds.  Or me, stooped over, pulling the weeds. It’s my annual, season-spanning, take-no-prisoners battle: Me, my Trusty Trowel, and the Weeds.

Can you guess who’s winning?

Years ago, my friend Genine owned an organic gardening shop, the very beautiful, much missed Heron Hill. One fine day, I walked in and asked her for a recommendation for an organic weed killer, She reached under her counter and pulled out… a trowel. It’s still my beloved Trusty Trowel.

Maybe in the intervening years, Science has invented a magic chemical that effectively kills weeds but not grass without devastating the groundwater supply and the planet’s inhabitants. Maybe, but I kind of doubt it. My neighbor Mark who composts and grows gorgeous grapes which he is learning to turn into delicious wine uses chemicals. In fact, Mark is fairly amused by my sweaty, foul-tempered, Sisyphean efforts.

“They have chemicals for that, Suzanne.”


When we downsize, when Paul and I are finally living in a home with no yard, no “grass” of any kind, will I miss these hours spent dirty and sore, under the relentless sun, engaged in my annual Stoop-Dig-Pull! ritual?

Ask me as I am lovingly hanging my retired Trusty Trowel on my low-maintenance wall.


One Response to “Weeds– very plural”

  1. kara Says:

    I love your friend’s organic week killer!

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