Now, you probably just read that headline and wondered out loud – why is Linda writing about the “One and Only Wonderbra”?
Maybe she is referencing the unmentionables that Caitlyn Jenner donned to create that bosomy look for her famous photo shoot with Annie Leibovitz.
No, no, no!
It is not that at all.
“Lift and separate” is simply my method to deal with those gazillion &%$ mini weeds that were growing everywhere in my mulch this morning. Weeding is no uplifting experience to be sure.
But … first I had to deal with the big fellas.
If you follow my blog regularly, you know I laid down 30 bags of mulch over Memorial weekend.
I’ve only recently recovered from that ordeal. I spread that mulch around (oh my aching back), and I no sooner put the rake away, when thousands of those elm seeds some refer to as “eyeballs” and an equal number of those pesky maple seeds everyone calls “helicopters” descended from the trees, fluttering down and settling onto my mulch.
It was just a matter of time before those little buggers sprouted. No surprise there – we had the second soggiest May on the books and June is looking to best that record. As I write this post, we are having the fourth rainfall of the day and I am hurrying to finish up here and beat the thunderstorms which are on the way.
Yesterday, when I returned from my long walk, my hand clasping the camera with those hot little 121 photo images that were begging to be uploaded to the computer, I thought I’d take some pictures of the yard for my pal Ann Marie who asked to see my gardening handiwork.
Well, I took one look at the gardens – there were weeds galore, so no pictures were taken. In fact, as I stood there gazing at the weeds, some as high as my ankles, I made a mental note that this would be Sunday morning’s agenda – an hour tops of weed-pulling, then a walk.
Two hours later I was still pulling and tugging, and alternately stabbing, some very gargantuan weeds – thistles, dandelions, purple nightshade, dock weed and wild ivy. Then, despite that destructive group’s efforts to mangle and strangle each of the perennials and roses in the backyard, and infiltrate the mulch as well, who can forget that cad, Creeping Charlie, which is all over like cheap underwear?
And, all this happened in two weeks!
Of course, that’s not even counting the teeny sprouts of elm and maple “trees” … well, I wasn’t going to pull those out by hand, nor by using my hand weeding tool. No way! I took my hand rake and long-handled rake and just rumpled up the mulch, ripping them out by their tiny roots and returning them to the earth, hiding them beneath the mulch.
Out of sight – out of mind.
So, while I immersed myself in that horrid weed-pulling chore, the mosquitoes insisted on having their way with me. It sure was muggy and buggy back there, and, despite being clad in my garden boots and a sweat suit, they insisted on biting me on the arms and legs through the heavy material. I swatted them away, of course, but, bloodthirsty little buggers that they were, they went right for my neck – it wasn’t even Halloween for goodness sake.
So, between swats and swear words, I wondered what Noah was really thinking to include a pair of mosquitoes on the ark?
Well, I missed my walk, but communed with nature anyway, so I guess that is not so bad, especially after lamenting long and loudly about the cold and brutal Winter and vowing to have no complaints come Spring.
At least the pit bull terrier slept in this morning … thankfully.