Combat Zone

I mowed my yard last weekend.  First time this year.

I wish I could say I mowed the grass, but I can't.  I mowed dandelions, fireweed, horsetail, leaves, twigs, raspberry shoots and some dog...well, you know.  I think there may have been a few blades of grass in there somewhere.

It always amazes me how hard I have to work to get things I want to grow to grow, and how prolific the things are that I attempt to kill.  It's a battle I fight every year, with varying degrees of success.

Most of the opponents in my yard don't inflict bodily injury, but the raspberries do.  They like to jump out and bite me when I'm mowing.  And for some reason the scratches they inflict really burn.  If it's warm outside and I'm wearing long sleeves, you'll know I've been pruning dead wood out of the raspberries.

They are dangerous even in death. 

I do have a few weapons in my arsenal. Two bags of Weed & Feed should help...well, it will try. I'm kind of fertilizer challenged.  I've been told the trick is move quickly when pushing the spreader and try not to overlap rows.  Every year I think I've done just that, and then the dark green stripes show up.

Ever tried to hide fertilizer stripes?  You can't. 

I keep hoping to start a new trend.

So...the battle will rage throughout the summer months.  Mother Nature will call a truce sometime in September when she blankets everything with a heavy frost, and then both my yard and I will retreat back behind enemy lines to lick our wounds and plot for next year.

In the meantime, I had the chance to chat with my neighbor on Monday.  "Your yard looks great!" she said,  "It always does."

Ha!

I'm hoping intimidation picks up where fertilizer leaves off.