Overgrown

There are dandelions.

Personally, I like them, though they also make great practice targets for the sjambok on daily walks.  However, between them and the crabgrass, this place is the Amazon basin right about now.  Must slay them all.  Have a huge brush pile to feed to the chipper, which to me sounds like an excellent job with which to get help from the nephew.  Young nephews of athletic bent should, on principle, be assigned strenuous and annoying tasks.  I always was.  He will get the joy of prepping this stuff for the chipper, a hot, noisy, sawdusty, cantankerous widowmaker with the basic guts of a planer, but far more persnickety.  Me? I have to feed it.  I’m the only one who won’t jam it every time.

So soon I’ll be walking around with a backpack spray tank, a mask (can’t hurt), and the motivation to slay any vegetation that displeases me. Think of it as editing my lawn. For the mulberry weed trees, I have a special plan:  1/2″ drilled holes with Roundup concentrate poured in.  Why do I not use KNO3? Tell you what.  You go to your local Cenex or Purina ag supply house and tell them you want a bag of potassium nitrate, though you can’t prove that you are in agriculture.  Let me know how that works out for you, and who comes to your door.

I guess we better hope the nation’s enemies never get the idea to just start farming.

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2 thoughts on “Overgrown”

    1. It is almost obligatory, Shannon, the way of the universe. Older people sick the youths on the tasks that their long experience has taught them are on the “I’d really rather not do this shit” list.

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