In the weeds

I weeded an ivy bed yesterday.

That’s not a bed you sleep on.

A long time ago, before I weed whacked the ivy bed into semi oblivion, the ivy was growing, well, everywhere in the bed. It had become about a foot tall in spots and was unruly.

No problem, or so I thought upon setting out to curtail some of the height with the aforementioned weed whacker.

Weed whackers are curious creatures.

They can be unwieldy. But when you can keep the twine feeding properly when you need it, there is no better tool for weed whacking efficiently–read that as weeding in the shortest time possible.

Fast forward a couple of years and the weeds had overrun the bed. There is a tree in the middle of the bed that at one time was being choked out by the ivy.

Now, though, the weeds were choking out the ivy that had lessened its grip on the tree trunk by virtue of it being overrun by the weeds.

I practiced ignorance for a bit.

This was the kind of ignorance where instead of not being in the know, I merely chose to ignore the fact the ivy bed had seen better days and the weeds were taking over.

This worked for about a year until my significant other put me on notice.

“Bob, you’ve got some work to do there.”

These are some of the words no man wants to hear, especially when we’re experiencing mid-July temperatures in May.

To be fair, I had gotten about as much mileage as a body can for someone who’s practiced ignorance in this matter. Actually, I was informed I was practicing avoidance by an entity known as Google.

I am very suspect of any intelligence known as artificial.

That said, however, I knew it would not bode well for my short- and long-term peace of mind if I insisted on putting off weeding the bed any longer. I thought about saying I needed to write instead of weed, but quickly thought better of it.

What really would have been more pressing story-wise for me to portray than performing the task at hand which was weeding?

How about telling the story that is the interminable amount of time it takes to update Windows PC’s and Macs compared to Linux machines?

Nah, I didn’t think that’d fly, either.

What about saying I needed to spend quality time with the dog?

Nah, that would have gotten me the stink eye.

There really wasn’t any excuse I could think of, let alone have it sound legitimate coming out of my trap.

I simply nodded after acknowledging the ivy bed was out of control with weeds. And using the weed whacker on the problem would not be tolerated, nor would it be effective.

No, no, no.

What was required was the scourge of weekend gardeners: hand weeding.

Well, maybe not the scourge of all weekend gardeners, but certainly this one, at the least.

I made sure I was hydrated throughout–taking frequent breaks to drink large quantities of water.

I dug out all the weeds by hand.

I tried to leave the good ivy intact as much as possible.

It was tedious, time-consuming work, taking the entire afternoon.

My knees ached.

My fingers were sore but not as sore as they are today.

I really should be on the 15-day blogging disabled list, and I may yet go on it, but I needed to get another post out or risk this site becoming as fallow as the ivy bed.

The ivy bed is probably better called ivy patches now. At least the ivy outnumbers the weeds–which to my tired eyes means there aren’t any traces of weeds, except maybe just a few clover weeds that I can revisit should they grow.

The thing in the bed that there is the most of now is dirt.

It’s kind of like how the oceans swallow the few land masses that exist on the earth. Now, the ivy is like those land masses and the dirt is like the ocean that surrounds the land.

It’s not quite an ivy bed, but hopefully, in time and with some weeding as necessary, it’ll get there again.