Life is Good...But the Weeds Must Die

Life in a small town thus far has been good. Cheryl has been enjoying her job and I have begun the regular life of a substitute teacher. For the past week-and-a-bit I have been daily moving between schools pretending I am a knowledge source from everything from Grade 1 to highschool home-ec. I feel like those annoying people in the Holiday Inn commercials; “Well, no I’m not an ICT instructor, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night!”. But the work has been good. I have been exposed to the schools and most of the experiences have been good. I would tell you more but this is a public blog and I am not about to become an ‘agent of the state’ with his foot in his mouth.

Otherwise, we are happy in our home.

Today, however, poses a new threat to my happiness because insofar no one has called me in to work, and that means I have no excuse to avoid the pending yardwork. There is at least 12 hours of pulling weeds with my name written all over it and so a-weed-pulling- I must go.

This feeling is not one of triumph such as my heroic battle against the lawn because unlike the lawn, which carries its own sense of elegance and self-worth, weeds are a ruthless enemy. Weeds are sneaky and mean, they engage in Guerrilla-like tactics; striking when you least expect it, hiding behind the foliage only to strike when your guard is down. The thistles stick in your hands, the spores violate the air, and they are always planning another attack wave with hidden numbers. Their roots extend deep to the point of conspiracy. Indeed, the only way to rid yourself of a weed is to dig at its roots until either you or the weed is forever vanquished. To do otherwise is futile. But weeds have learned to survive. There are even plants in the garden that are really undercover weeds. They are broadleaf yet flower, but don’t be deceived, they are the enemy and they must die. Other plants seem to have forged an alliance, covering the existence of the weeds with their own foliage, thus concealing the threat and converting it to a covert operation. Yes, the weeds have a plan but I have a secret weapon…Killex. Yes, I intend to descend upon the yard with chemical warfare. With my Killex canister in hand I will distribute death to the organic onslaught that is the weeds. And when the canister runs dry I shall deal out weed-death with my garden-gloved hands. There may be some casualties along the way but it will all be for the greater good (I would say “democracy shall prevail but let’s not get ahead of ourselves, we are only talking about plants here).

In the words of Garfield the cat, “If I’m not back in 10 minutes, send a banana-cream pie after me.”