I’m a big
fan of wild flowers, but I draw the line at thistles, the bane of my
pasture. This charming deep purple
flower is saddled with an enormous base of stiff and prickly leaves, which
understandably are left uneaten by the deer and horses. Fortunately, thistles are not deeply rooted,
and tenacity and a sturdy pair of gloves can be combined to upend them before
they flower.
Typically
by now, the grass has already grown lush and high, masking the young thistles
before they erupt. But in this season of
drought, the thistles have gotten out of the gate ahead of the grass, and I can
spy them in their near infancy. I waited
for the rain of the past week to end, and today, I launched my attack. I donned my gloves and grabbed a shovel, a
pitchfork, and a trowel and worked my way around the perimeter of the house and
the fences, where the thistles tend to congregate. After I removed the more monstrous ones
manually, I grabbed the Roundup to spray clusters that were just beginning to
peek through the ground. Take that,
thistles! I’ll be back.
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