"Get up! Get up!" General Katz yowled as she sat on my chest. "It's time to finish off the war!"
It was only 6:30 on a Saturday morning and it surely wasn't time to start the day. Unfortunately, the little general wasn't backing off. Reluctantly, I waddled out of bed to get her breakfast and get her off my back. Or rather, my chest.
But it was time. She was right. I looked outside to get my bearings on the day ahead. The ground was soft from a nice rain the night before. Clouds filled the day. Yes, this was the day to end the war that had been waging in my own backyard.
The war on crabgrass.
For years, I was resigned to the war. Hated the backyard because it was just so dull. I'd neglected it and paid for it heavily as the years took their toll. As the years passed, I was mowing less Bermuda and more of the crabgrass. It hit my knees at times it got so tall. Finally this spring I decided to attack.
In early March, after what was supposed to be the last freeze, I hit the backyard with roundup. Hit it hard. There was a bit of St Augustine grass that had been trying to move its allied forces in from neighboring lands, but it could never take hold of much but the edges. Where it stood, it stood firm. I allowed it to continue. But the nasty crabgrass got a full napalm-like explosion to kill it all. It worked. In a matter of weeks, it was crippled and dying.
But even in death, the crabgrass held onto its territory. Never letting go or relenting. I needed to get new reinforcements in to help the fringe army from next door. But to do this, I had to remove the decaying army still holding ground.
It took me 3 days of battle to finally pull the last of the dead crabgrass from the ground, all by hand and most of it holding tight in its roots. I took away 10, 30-gallon sized bags from the yard and sent it along to the trash. All the while General Katz was watching from a distance. It was exhausting but the war is over.
It was only 6:30 on a Saturday morning and it surely wasn't time to start the day. Unfortunately, the little general wasn't backing off. Reluctantly, I waddled out of bed to get her breakfast and get her off my back. Or rather, my chest.
But it was time. She was right. I looked outside to get my bearings on the day ahead. The ground was soft from a nice rain the night before. Clouds filled the day. Yes, this was the day to end the war that had been waging in my own backyard.
The war on crabgrass.
For years, I was resigned to the war. Hated the backyard because it was just so dull. I'd neglected it and paid for it heavily as the years took their toll. As the years passed, I was mowing less Bermuda and more of the crabgrass. It hit my knees at times it got so tall. Finally this spring I decided to attack.
In early March, after what was supposed to be the last freeze, I hit the backyard with roundup. Hit it hard. There was a bit of St Augustine grass that had been trying to move its allied forces in from neighboring lands, but it could never take hold of much but the edges. Where it stood, it stood firm. I allowed it to continue. But the nasty crabgrass got a full napalm-like explosion to kill it all. It worked. In a matter of weeks, it was crippled and dying.
But even in death, the crabgrass held onto its territory. Never letting go or relenting. I needed to get new reinforcements in to help the fringe army from next door. But to do this, I had to remove the decaying army still holding ground.
It took me 3 days of battle to finally pull the last of the dead crabgrass from the ground, all by hand and most of it holding tight in its roots. I took away 10, 30-gallon sized bags from the yard and sent it along to the trash. All the while General Katz was watching from a distance. It was exhausting but the war is over.
As the final hours of the battle were waged and the reinforcements brought in in waves (the transporters only held about 60 sheets of sod at a time), Katz patrolled the new territory, surveying the land, and sniffing it all out to make sure it was just right. She sighed, then as any good general, laid down in the sun, blissfully snoring in the sun.
All is good in the backyard lands these days. The new troops are standing tall and holding steady. As time goes on, these troops should propagate and take over the rest of the land.
Freedom reigns in St Augustine!
1 comment:
Wow. What a great post. Want another battleground to tackle?
;)
Good writing.
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