Karen vs the Dandelions (Part Two)

The Lawn Ownership Experiment continues.

Since the last chicane, I have even had compliments on the above-mentioned lawn, in that it was green and suspiciously free of dandelions. I am proud to report that the Army of Dandelion Invaders has been, if not eradicated, then quite squelched and maybe a little bit humbled, too. Last night, during inspection,* I found only three wee little dandelings trying to muster up strength from their wimpy little roots, but hah! I snatched them free and threw them into the composter.

I then stood proud, surveying that which I have tended, 'ere these many weeks...and noticed another foe. There's some kind of little creeping vine (called, I believe, Creeping Jenny), which was beautiful in my front garden, all walled in and contained. But I'm guessing that one of the workmen, while transporting plants from the front yard to the back, dropped a small little tendril -- just one! -- and created my new obsession. Now, let's just say first that I enjoy Jennies of all kinds. I find them to be delightful creatures, in general, but this particular Jenny has to go.

I first noticed it by my side deck - just a few little vines infiltrating the grass. I pulled at one, and it came out, root and all (I think?), leaving a slightly bald patch. And then I saw more. And more. And more. "This is not an effective use of your time," I was informed by a random husband (who shall remain unnamed), as I squatted down and pulled one vine after another out with my bare hands. For an hour. The problem with these pretty little vines is that if you leave one -- just one -- behind, it will spread and take over the entire planet,** choking out your grass and leaving unsightly patches of dirt. So, any time spent plucking is wasted unless I get every last one. Which, I admit, causes me to look a wee bit insane, especially since I keep finding more and more, while squatting down, muttering to myself. I found another large invasion of it beside my vegetable garden. Grrr.

And after a bit of internet research, the prognosis is glum: the scorched earth/clean slate is the most recommended, with dumping vast amounts of chemicals ("natural" or not) a second-best choice. The physical/organic way will take more time, more work, and more of my sanity away, but I'm committed. I'll keep pulling these things out, consarn it! And then I will topsoil and reseed and fertilize*** and blather about it to anyone who will listen! And then I will have a drink.





*Aside: uniform for lawn inspection last night was a nice tie-back work top, ugly beige shorts, pink happy bunny ankle socks (with little happy bunny pom poms), and black sneakers. No, it did not add to my appearance of being sane.

** Oo, fun! The Dictionary.com word of the day is "pullulate". How appropriate!

***Also, I will water it. I discovered that simply "waiting for rain" doesn't keep a lawn green. Vaughn and Ailsa, naturally, are delighted with the sprinkler and the hose.