One crabby old lady continues to
Grouse, grouse, grouse
about the
Grass, Grass, Grass
thwarting her life's mission, a little bit of prairie restoration.
Pasture Grass,
forever seeking to reassert its tenure on our seven acres, most of it former pasture. Seeds like dormant for decades. (Did I mention my Agony in the Garden, by the Decade post?) Disturb the ground, and the seeds squeal, "I see the light!" and start sprouting and growing and taking over my little world.
Another grass overtakes the pink yarrow and Campion's Bladder
(awful name, but the seeds are contained in a "bladder"),
Yes, I know. Nothing is a "weed" in and of itself, but only if it grows where a "land owner" doesn't want it. And yes, no one "owns" the land, but I am a caretaker, a steward, and I'm on a mission to restore some of the prairie. Here in the Midwest, not even one tenth of one percent of our original prairie remains. The number of restorations, however, is bring up the percentage of our land that is not a monoculture of corn or soybeans or sterile suburban lawns. For 21 years I have lived on these seven acres, battling the elements. I'm gray, wrinkled, bitten by insects and itching with poison ivy and sneezing the pollen from my miserable sinuses.
Back to business!
White Yarrow thrives where I've pulled the grass,
But this grass must be pulled EVERY YEAR, several times a year. If the seeds are not tenacious enough, the elaborate, rhizome root system will hold on for all eternity, never ceding its claim on the land.
The birds gifted me with rhubarb,
Rhubarb! yes, in the midst of my praire flowers.
Asparagus too, here and there, and strawberries. I love perennial garden plants.
What's that non-native day lily doing in my prairie restoration?
Not taking over, that's what,
but providing some color. I actually do welcome some "aliens" - I'm not a total racist when it comes to native plants. š
Hollyhock and chicory,
not native, but a welcome source of color: hello, and welcome to my garden! Pardon me while I pull some more of this pasture grass out of your way.
One lonely pea plant
has survived the drought. It's in the flower bed, avoiding the intense sun, getting watered daily. I'm not one to plant straight rows of anything in a flat bed of dirt. I like the idea of "forest" gardening and of planting little surprises here and there.
What should this crabby old lady do: Let the grass reclaim its tenure on this land, or take up arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing, end them?
(She shuffles off to don the Pyrethrin-soaked pants and grab the hoe, spade, rake)....
Off I go now to continue waging war on the invaders. If it were bluestem or maidenfeather or some other prairie native Iād let it take the entire lawn.
Join us in the Silver Bloggers' community by clicking here.
For Part One, click on the image below.
Thank you for listening to a silver-haired blogger's rant. Let me set aside the weeding and I'll listen to yours.