Sheila O'Riley

Accidental Invaders, Beware

The Iowa State University Extension Service’s Master Gardener Program is a great program. I’m a 2001 graduate. You learn scientific specifics about prolific gardening. Eeks; that’s a lot of ics!

Chris Nelson, Adams County Extension Director here, was one of the leaders of the classes. He prepared certificates for participants at the end of the training. He made a point of putting a clever, personal gardening related message on each participant’s certificate. As Chris knows that I am a black belt in TaeKwonDo, the special message on my certificate was “Accidental Invaders, Beware.” Meaning whether the accidental invader is a hoodlum or weed, he better watch out for Master Gardener O’Riley. I doubt Chris realized how true his statement is.

The truth is I enjoy pulling weeds. The mindless task of weeding gives me time to ponder the wonders and challenges of life. I like the feel of the roots breaking free from the earth as I tug on the weed. Each weed breaking ground gives me a feeling of satisfaction. “No more weed. More vegetables for me” Or it can be an outlet for my pent up frustrations. “There, take that you dirty, rotten, nasty weed!”

Most of the time, the weed is extracted by grasping with the thumb and forefinger and giving a little tug. Sometimes it warrants the whole fist and a yank. Other times it involves wrapping both fists around the base of the stem, planting the feet, and a lot of grunting. Luckily, I don’t do the latter in my yard; very often anyway.

That was mostly back in the days of walking beans for my parents. My dad wouldn’t allow us kids to cut the milkweeds, cockleburs, and button weeds. No sir-eee. No bean hooks or corn knives for us. Dad wanted to see the roots to be sure it wouldn’t grow back. That might be how I developed my weed fetish.

As my gardens are mulched and never tilled, there aren’t many weeds in them. I’m forced to turn to my lawn to get my weed pullin’ fix. My lawn gives me a never ending supply of weeds. It is not unusual for people driving by my place, to see me crawling on my hands and knees through the grass hunting down weeds. When I find a large patch of weeds, I sit on my bottom and pull, pull, pull.

Crab grass, knotweed, and creeping Charlie don’t stand a chance against my hands. What’s a puny weed to hands trained to be self-defense weapons? And thank goodness I learned patience in TaeKwonDo, as it takes lots of it to gently nudge the crawling stems of creeping Charlie out of the grass. I will admit I sometimes brandish a weapon that I inherited from my in-laws. I call this weapon my dandelion digger. I use it to--well, I guess you can figure that one out.

During a recent sparing match with a patch of crab grass, I was inspired to write this story. I hope you enjoyed it. May you be victorious over your accidental invaders.

Lesson:

A chore is what you make of it; burdensome or enlightening.

Or is it…   Weed ‘em and reap.  9/07