As I began the third hour of mowing the “back forty” today, I remembered why we used to go camping over the Fourth. It was so that we didn’t have to mow the “back forty!” Since I was on a roll with lawn maintenance, I decided to practice thistle mitigation after mowing. Life is full around here.
Why is it that one puny drop of weed killer will destroy an entire rose bush, but a gallon of the stuff will not take out a thistle? Nevertheless, I ritualistically engage in the sport of thistle wrestling each summer. Apparently, I think I am going to beat Mother Nature at her game, even though she has used her forces to bury entire civilizations. Thankfully, tomorrow I can plead the “Fifth,” and take a break from freeing the lawn of noxious weeds.