Weeds

     I have a lot more free time theses days.  And, truth be told, there are a lot of things I have needed to do but have not.  The lawn is a prime example.  When I finally got around to pulling the weeds, I stopped after about five hours because I was afraid I'd be investigated for deforestation.

     The more I looked, the deeper the problem went.

     I've known about the lawn in a passing over the last few years.  I have transversed it at high speed on the riding mower many times.  When I started looking at it from a near stationary position though I saw things I'd never noticed -- as far as the weeds went.

     There's one with cute little flowers that can take over and drown out the grass as it spreads quickly across the landscape.  I have the market pretty well cornered on it.  My lawn is beginning to become a yellow profusion in spots.

     I stopped at the county agricultural agent's office with an example to ask how I could  get rid of it.  The woman who was at the office gave me a print out detailing the weed killer chemicals needed. And as she handed them to me she casually said, "At least you don't have horsetail."

     Horsetail is a prolific weed. If you see a one inch sprout, you don't see the foot-long root.  And it spreads like crazy.  (Kind of like rabbits or lawyers.  If you have one, it is lonely.  Have two and you'll soon have a whole bunch if they are any good at their job).

    Horsetail is said to be high in iron and herbalists find it fairly powerful in a variety of uses.  But still, it is a weed.  And I've got it as well.

     "Funny you should mention that," I said, "I do have a bunch of it."  "Oh, I am so sorry," she murmured as she handed me another pamphlet.  I accepted it dubiously and then brightened when I read the words,
". . .and is best eradicated by flame" at the bottom of the page.  "You mean I can get rid of it with a flame thrower?" I asked.  "Oh yes," she replied cheerily.  My head swam with thoughts of battling the evil weed with something that could cook dinner in two minutes and the boy within me awoke with glee.

     Up here in Port Angeles, many folks fall into the "hippie, organic blueberry" type of people.  I know one such.  He was nominated to be the organic gardener at the White House for President Obama.  He once told me that vinegar was a great weed killer.  So a part of my efforts has been to spray with vinegar.  I started that today.

     Armed with my one gallon garden sprayer and a couple gallons of white vinegar I went out to combat the dreaded herbage.  As I happily bowed the vegetational leaves under the pressure stream from my organic killing device I happened to overshoot and hit some of the horsetail.

     My neighbor, Stan, was curious as to what I was doing in the yard and I explained about the empty vinegar jugs.  "Oh, that stuff will kill anything. . .including your grass!  Ya better be careful where ya get that," he cautioned.  I thanked him for his sage advice and went inside soon afterward.

     His words kept resonating in my mind and I soon found myself back outside, like one of our dogs, checking to see at where I had sprayed.

     Everywhere I looked plants were shriveling after having consumed the vinegar. . .even the horsetail.

     I cursed silently.

      I really wanted a flame thrower.