Day: January 12, 2022

A Battle She Cannot Win

The weather is mild today, in between cold fronts, so the human female is going to do a little yard work. She lives in a state of perpetual delusion, thinking that her puny efforts are going to keep the place looking less derelict. Pfft! Pulling a weed or three is not going to make anyone think that tidy people live here.

The concrete driveway had some cracks when the humans moved in, and since my coming, I’ve made sure to deepen and widen the cracks, fill them with soil and humus, and introduce a charming variety of weed seeds. It is the results of my efforts that the human female intends to deal with today.

A recent cold snap took out a number of sunflower seedlings which had come up in the lawn, but I sowed some hardier sorts in the driveway.

I’ve heard that sunflower shoots are edible, human, so feel free to munch away if you don’t feel like pulling. Mind the spurge plants that are growing beneath them, though, because their sap is caustic.

I planted henbit in this crack.

The human female likes the purple flowers very much and leaves the plant on other parts of the property, but she is going to pull this poor, helpless plant out by its tender roots. Hypocrite.

Yank, yank, yank! The weeds are coming up in handfuls I don’t really mind. I’ll just plant more and she’ll have to do this again in a few weeks. Plants without seeds are going in the bucket, destined for the compost heap.

Beloved, take care not to fall in! I do not want you to end up in the compost heap with the fruit peels, wilted lettuce ends, old eggshells, and the occasional knife that gets swept up in the kitchen carnage.

The bits that might have seeds or which would take root and grow in the heap are going into a trash bag for pickup by the city.

Farewell, my little weedies! You have served your purpose admirably and deserve a rest.

Ehehehehe! The human female has discovered my other little bit of mischief! I invited some fire ants to nest in the cracks in the concrete! For those unfamiliar with this busy little Hymenopteran, they are small, active creatures, capable of delivering a very painful sting. The human female is quite sensitive to their venom, breaking out in angry pustules that itch for weeks. What?! Great Frigga’s Hairpins! The human female has found an old can of fire ant poison bait and is applying it liberally. Curses!

Never fear, my little myrmidons! I think the bait is old enough not to work, but if some of your number do succumb, I’ll be sure to rescue a few of you so that you can start another colony elsewhere.


The driveway being finished (for now), the human female has moved on to the front walkway. I’ve done some good work here. I planted Bermudagrass in all the spaces between paving blocks. I love this plant! Nothing can kill it; it thrives on neglect; it spreads by runners, rhizomes, and seed; and will take root again if you pull it up and simply cast it aside. Look at this!

Eighty percent of this population has been killed off by the cold (it’s originally from tropical Africa), but the remaining twenty percent is going to take her all afternoon to dig out with a screwdriver! She’ll probably even have to come back out tomorrow to finish the job!

At which time, she’ll discover I’ve planed some nut sedge in there too.

Why go to the trouble of working mischief with lowly weeds? I’ll tell you why: A busy human is one who’s not bugging me. Every hour she spends hunched over, grubbing herbage out of cracks, is an hour I can spend peacefully attending to other matters.

Like hiding socks or tipping over poorly-closed bottles and jars of sticky substances in the cold box…

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