Friday, June 23, 2006


"What's that? On the Wood's landscaping (if you can call it that!)"
"Everywhere! It's like orange waves..."
"Oh yeah, I see it now. What IS that?"
"Looks like somebody painted the grass with some orange stuff."
"Not exactly BURNT orange is it?"
"No, but the grass looks burnt."
"It looks like a road map seen from space... except the road is ORANGE."

Okay, so after pulling more weeds with more pulling power than a boys' high school dorm, and after ANOTHER round of pulling, the weeds came back.

I bought the stuff that warns if it touches your flesh you become a Wes Craven horror movie. I put on the surplus radioactivity-proof gloves. Wore long pants. Held my breath. Kept upwind.

And squiggled the sprayer into every weed hideout I could find. I won't be surprised:

a- if it doesn't work

b- if it does work and takes out legitimate growth like a dmz

c- giant grasshoppers breed here

"There's another there's another there's another there's another there's another..." My weed killer brain signaled my sprayer trigger finger which perhaps was a bit too enthusiastic.

Time will tell.

------------------------- 4 days later ----------------------

...And only several of the weeds look like dead. The rest are proudly waving their green heads into the sunlight as if to say, "Boy, that was good!" I reread the instructions (something I am loathe to do) and mix up another vat of toxic cesspool o' death. I suit up. Rubber gloves. Long pants. And have at it again. I drench the little weeds. All twelve million of them. One by one.

No agent-orange-trails are visible yet, but there are a few bare spots starting to smoke. I bought the $23 CONCENTRATE and have enough to go for another few rounds. Yes, there might eventually be collateral damage but that's the way it goes/grows.

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