embattled

We continue to wage war even when we know the chance of victory is slim. The enemy isn't necessarily stronger than we are, but it is resilient. It'll come back again and again, even if we push them back with our exceptional might.

This is how I feel about bramble roses and creeping charlie.

When I first moved to the farmette, I thought that where I wanted there to be raspberries, there would be raspberries. Where I wanted flowers, there would be flowers. Sure, weeds, quack grass -- they're part of the deal here. But places where I sought control, where I waged war, would be mine. I have force and determination on my side!

So do they.

This morning, after breakfast...






...I work. Long, tedious hours of school work. Systematically I check off pages, write down assignments, take  notes on what I'd read. By afternoon, I am spent.

Time to refresh. Time to maybe put in the bulbs. I have some five dozen -- crocuses, tulips. No daffodils. I have hundreds of those in already.

But I get distracted. When did the bramble roses get so out of control? How did the creeping charlie creep into my primary flower bed? Ah, the nasturtium! In its abundant phase, it covered over the weeds. It covered over everything.







And of course, life continues and I have my attention elsewhere and now rose brambles are coming out of every conceivable space and creeping charlie is about to declare victory.

Not yet! I have might! I have determination!

I spend two hours pulling out deep roots of invasive devils. Heave! Pull! More! Come on!

Ed comes home and finds me with blood dripping down my face (bramble stalks fight back).

I suppose I should feel victorious. I brought things under control. For now.


 


But I know it's a temporary victory. It isn't a blow out celebration. They're hiding, but they'll be back. Next year, they'll be back.

But for now, I have to believe that I've made progress.

Dinner is of the easy kind: salad, veggies, eggs. That's it. Nothing more.