When weeds attack !!

Now I've been around a few gardening blogs lately and I must say my first impressions are always of awe and wonderment at how neat and tidy every ones garden appears to be. My first impressions are usually followed by envy, jealousy and lately, suspicion. Yes suspicion, because in a world of very busy people how in the name of Christ do ye keep on top of the weeds ? I turn my back for ten minutes and look what happens a veritable jungle has appeared. You could lose a whole troop of boy scouts down there !! and wouldn't it serve them right with their damn badges for everything. A badge for successfully tying their shoelaces, a badge for helping old ladies, a badge for wiping their own ass ........ But once again I digress, if ever a garden was in need of help from Ground force. Charlie, where are you ?



Some of the weeds were almost five feet tall ! " How on earth ? " I hear you cry, well it was easy really it's as if they grew themselves !!
Today was the day when I would reclaim my garden for once and for all, no weed would be standing when I left the garden, I felt a bit like Tommy in that Kenny Rogers song " The coward of the county " only this time the Gatlin boys didn't stand a chance and they certainly wouldn't have their way with Becky.

To war I went and all was going great til my old back injury reared it's ugly head, the pulling of these weeds was akin to uprooting five year old trees ! But I struggled on, the weeds fought back, I never knew nettles could be so damn sneaky. They hid amongst the more placid looking weeds and struck time and time again as I grabbed a handful. Have you ever been stung repeatedly between the fingers ? Bloody sore I can tell you ...... and no I wasn't wearing gloves, gloves are for sissies !! Who was the clown that said rubbing a dock leaf on a nettle sting would ease the pain ? Did he know that nettles grow amongst the docks causing more torment ? If the suggester of this little gem of knowledge were to appear today I'd give him a rub of a dock ..... A Doc Martin size ten !

Then there were the bees, I planted flowers everywhere this year to encourage bees back into the garden, I love bees .......... and bees must love me or else it was the fact that the weeds were also in flower and instinct had whipped the furry little sky pilots into a damn frenzy. " Go pollinate me flowers ", but no, every time I carried an armful of weeds to the wheel barrow I risked the wrath of the bees. It's a bit like shelling out for an expensive present for a child and then watching crestfallen as they seem to get more enjoyment out of the packaging. " Go away from the weeds ". But a child can't sting you, well technically anyway. So when a huge bumble bee found his way down the back of my jeans and wedged himself firmly in my ass crack the first thing I thought of was the sting. The second thing I thought of was to stay calm, but unfortunately that thought came too late. For I was off doing a sort of demented riverdance while flinging the armful of weeds straight into the air showering myself with more bees ! I could feel him trying to turn pawing at my butt cheeks with his furry hoofs, yes he had hoofs for he was the size of a small donkey.I dared not flex my cheeks for the pressure might prompt the release of the javelin which was surely being aimed at that moment, it would spell the end for the bee but also the end of sitting for me. " Please don't sting me mister bee " Why am I talking to a bee, especially one jammed in a sweaty ass crack, he must be feeling trapped, he probably can't hear me anyway, do bees have ears ? So many thoughts so little time. I managed to open the button of my jeans while busting some dance moves that haven't seen the light of day since I was trying to woo the knickers off of Mrs Foxylock, successfully I might add but theres no time for that right now. I gingerly inserted my index finger into my butt cleavage just below the bee and with a deft flick it was all over, I had liberated the bee, saved a life and a hell of a lot of explaining. Off he flew, I was full sure he looked back at me and winked !! I wonder what would the casual observer have made of the situation not knowing of the presence of the bee donkey ?

Shaken but not stirred I ploughed on and had nearly come to the end of my hardship when I came upon a thistle almost six foot tall. This mother could look me in the eye, I was tired but would not give in to a thistle no matter how mean and spiky it was. I have seen my father dig thistles with a shovel, with one sharp thrust below ground level he severs the thistle and walks away with it balanced neatly on the shovel, whistling and looking around as he nonchalantly flicks it over the nearest boundary " One for the neighbours " he smiles, he's pure cool you know !

So with shovel in hand I approached the thistle I could have swore it tried to move. " Ha, you fear me " I said out loud. I thrust with the shovel but made a balls of the balancing part, I pushed the shovel upwards and outwards in a vain attempt to compensate. I guess you can't compensate for ineptitude and I ended up giving the thistle a sort of awkward bear hug while taking the brunt of the spikes on my face. A hundred fiery pinpricks tried to burst my bubble as I kissed the modelling job goodbye !

So I can't make money from modelling, won't make money from gardening What's left ? Anyone want to buy a wheel barrow of top quality weeds ? I'll throw in a couple of bees ........