Opinion

April showers bring more weeds than flowers

When I drive around residential areas of Bremerton and see weedless flowerbeds with pretty flowers blooming in all of spring’s glory, I get irate. The more brilliant the colors, the more angry I get. All those gardens do is remind me that I can’t get control of my own yard.

Every spring, no matter where I live, I battle the forces of evil for control over my yard. Last year, the battle wasn’t hard because I lived in Jackson Park and it was professionally landscaped.

Bonus!

This year, we have our own abode and all I have are weeds, weeds, as far as the eye can see. I have hearty green, sprouty weeds. I have thick, healthy dandelions. I have gorgeous buttercups.

I don’t want any of them.

I want pretty tulips. I want roses. I want, I want, I want.

In the course of the last three weeks, I’ve put so many chemicals on my front yard it will likely end up in a 12-step program. The weeds wilted for a few hours — just long enough for me to gloat at them — then recovered. That which did not kill them just made them stronger.

I guess that saying is right.

I’ve plucked weeds out of my flowerbeds for hours. One Saturday I was out in my front yard for three hours doing nothing but pulling weeds. I enlisted my 3-year-old’s help by telling him if he helped me pull weeds I would give him chocolate pudding, as I am never above bribery.

He pulled two weeds, announced he was finished pulling weeds and rode his bike on the driveway while I did all the work.

Once I was finished, he reminded me that one weed and one weed makes two weeds, so he had fulfilled his duty enough to earn pudding.

I may as well have played with the kid instead of pulling weeds because before I could pull the top off his Snack Pack, the weeds already had grown back.

After the weed-pulling incident, I was desperate for help. I was even more desperate for a shortcut. So, like other desperate homeowners, I took a trip to the Lowes garden section. I described the weeds in my yard, then told the lady with the blue apron I was determined to kill them.

“I want them dead ... gone ... annihilated.”

The lady in the blue apron told me exactly what I didn’t want to hear. “You have to pull them out first,” she said.

I’m still seeking a second opinion.

Adding insult to injury, on my way out the door, I saw a lady with two shopping carts full of potted flowers ready to be planted into the ground. Her flowers were likely be nine feet tall by the time I conquer my weed infestation.

I figure by the end of the summer, I will have either won the battle or lowered my standards. I hear the “uncontrolled jungle” look is all the rage this year. Or at least it is in my yard.

For now, I’ll just keep pulling away.

We encourage an open exchange of ideas on this story's topic, but we ask you to follow our guidelines for respecting community standards. Personal attacks, inappropriate language, and off-topic comments may be removed, and comment privileges revoked, per our Terms of Use. Please see our FAQ if you have questions or concerns about using Facebook to comment.
blog comments powered by Disqus

Read the latest Green Edition

Browse the print edition page by page, including stories and ads.

Oct 24 edition online now. Browse the archives.

Friends to Follow

View All Updates