Weed Attack

I left work a little early today, because I finally could, and got home as the daylight was fading. With about an hour before it would be time to leave for my Singles group, I went after the worst offenders of the weeds in front of the house.

We had rain this week, enough to soak into the ground--not like a couple weeks ago, when the rain just dampened the top layer of dirt and went on its way. The bad part of a good rain was that it made all the weeds, which had been hugging the ground up until then, thrust themselves toward the sky. One (I don't know what kind it was) was uglier than most, with its thorn-filled leaves held close to the trunk, and it had jumped to a height of about a foot. I went for that one first.

I didn't wear regular work gloves, just the plastic gloves that food-service workers wear, so I wouldn't get weed stains all over my fingers. The thorns were a challenge, but I was finally able to get a painless grip on the roots and toss the whole thing in the green-waste recycling bin.

After the spikemeister, the milkweeds and dandelions followed, and then I couldn't see well enough to do anymore. The front of my house hasn't been cleared completely, but it's back to tolerable, with low-lying weeds and clumps of grass. Ideally, I'll get it emptied of everything again, and then I'll plant some lobelia, which spread really well at the house I lived in before this one.

For now, though, the dirt in front of the house feels like real soil, rich and full of promise. It won't stay that way for long, I suspect.