Saturday, April 25, 2009

weed killer

As part of a course on pasture management I am currently taking (more about that some other time), we received this book:


After careful perusal, my LSH and I determined that we have significant populations of about 90% of the plants pictured in the book. Our property is a veritable weed haven, with healthy and vigorous populations that would have greatly simplified the job of the book's photographers: they could have come over here and knocked out the photos in a few short hours. My LSH proposed that the course managers pay us a small fee to have the attendees troop around and see the book's samples live and up close.

Our weed population has met its match, however. My LSH received a large and mysterious box via UPS on Wednesday. I am not sure how he restrained himself, but he managed to hold off on assembling it until last night.

The days of the weeds are officially numbered.


And the boys are suitably impressed -- just look at those faces and eyes, equipment like this is what kicks testosterone into high gear -- though they do keep a respectful distance.


They are also being kept busy maintaining the bucket and hose brigade, because my LSH is employing a take-no-prisoners approach.


Maybe "scorched earth" would be a even more fitting description of his method.


But he should be consulting the book a bit more often; those green shoots were not a weed! Not a weed!


I don't think the following was a weed, but to tell the truth, I can't tell at this point.


The best part, in my opinion, is the instruction manual. After cautioning the operator to always keep a fire extinguisher handy, it ends a long litany of various behaviors to be avoided by stating "If in doubt, don't do it."

Wise advice indeed. As a matter of fact, I have decided that this will be my mantra of advice for the boys' teenage years, as it is applicable to almost any situation a teenage boy might find himself in. I had my first opportunity to trot it out today when discussing some less-than-ideal behavior with Primo. Of course, the flaw is that the advice presumes that there will be doubt to begin with, but a mother has to have some sort of faith that her nagging and badgering all these years has made a dent in those egos. Let's hope it gets them through. I am starting to get a little worried, myself.


  1. The look on the boys faces is priceless. Whoa, fire and all that smoky stuff. The only thing better is if it made huge amounts of noise.

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