Zac and I just weeded the front yard in about 25 minutes. He has to do 30 minutes of exercise, 5 times a week.
Guess who is loving this?
Hint: It isn’t Zac.
The formerly-blue sky clouded over today. I had kettlebells this morning, so I already worked out. Zac? Well, he hadn’t done anything yet. Now, it looked like rain.
“Wanna take a half hour walk with me?” I asked.
He shrugged. Okay, no.
“How about we do some weed-pulling?” He needed to fulfill his requirement. He decided pulling weeds sounded better than taking an aimless walk.
I walked out the front door. He ambled outside after me.
I moved to the front of the yard and held the leaf of a plant in front of Zac.
“This, with the triangle-shaped leaves, is morning glory. Yank that sucker out.” The insidious green vines twined around the honeysuckle we trained to climb the pergola out front.
Morning glory, despite it’s flowery name, is a parasite plant. Ours look like this.
Morning glories come in a variety of colors – blue, purple, red, even the palest pink of moonflowers. Wikipedia informs me ancient Chinese used morning glory seeds as a laxative. And, I guess if you ingest enough morning glory seeds, you can enjoy a pretty good LSD-like trip.
In my yard, however, they’re a pasty white and a horrible nuisance. They bind themselves to our lavender. Their bendy stems spiral around petunia stalks. They weigh down our rose bushes. They push up through the barkdust, all freestyle. Zac and I even found a large garland sprouting straight out of a crack in the cement wall. That, friends, is just plain cheeky.
I have to admire the morning glory’s will to survive. Donna Summer had nothing on this plant.
In a short amount of time and despite a few light sprinkles, we’d tamed the weeds in the front yard. Morning glory – 0, Ishams – 1. But I know the battle will rage on as long as the ground remains warm. Plants of all kinds will grow; it’s what they do. We must remain vigilant against the insidious interlopers. Besides, Zac has more P.E. time to fill.