Last year we experienced a record-breaking drought. The grass was dead by May and worries turned to the fear of fire. In January somebody upstairs opened up the faucet and now I find myself at war. The grass maybe dead, but the weeds have my compound surrounded.

They’re so high; I’ve lost the dog three times this week.

Granted, I only mowed once last year, but now the weeds are popping up so fast around here, they’ve become too tall to mow. Somebody hand me a scythe.

All my neighbors are cooing over the lovely display of wildflowers. Listen up people, those monsters may have flowers on them, but they still bite.

Last week, I was attacked on my way to The Funny Farm. A four foot dandelion reached over with his largest leaf and slapped me. Then a giant thistle tried to strangle me, while clover grew up between my toes. I can no longer go outside unarmed.

How bad had this weed infestation gotten? Yesterday, I walked in the local grocery store/gas station/bait & tackle shop. I waited patiently in line to make my purchase. Someone behind me walked up to take their turn and I smelled the distinct odor of fresh cut grass. I whipped around and saw a nice woman behind me covered in green clippings.

She apologized, “Sorry. I’ve been wrestling with thistles all afternoon and I think they won. My WeedEater’s dead.”

I nodded and said, “Get out your rifle. They’re so big now you can sit on the porch and take them out one by one. You’d be the county’s first Thistle Sniper.”

Do goats eat weeds?

When I do venture out to The Funny Farm now, I wear long pants, a long-sleeved shirt, combat boots, long rubber gloves and a bike helmet. I carry a set of very sharp loppers in one hand and a machete in the other. I look like a poster child for The Little House of Horrors.

Stroke of Genius has already announced he’s afraid of the back yard. I told him to man up, go outside and grab the gas-powered monster that could destroy those evil weeds. He shook his head and said, “No. I mean look at that one over there – it’s taller than me.”

Obviously, he’s never taken on anything tougher that Bermuda grass and seasonal color.

Nope. This is the frontier. I may not have tomatoes this year, but I’ve got more weeds than I’ve had dates in the past 10 years.

Last night I had a rather unnerving nightmare about the green monsters. Seems Seymour and his gang of spike-laden buddies came to life and surrounded the house. Then they started dancing in sinc; something reminiscent of a Disney Cartoon. About the time they were opening the windows to the house to come get me, I woke up sweating all over. I slept with my pinking shears the rest of the night.

So now I’m plotting over how to get rid of these blasted things. Round Up? They’d just laugh at me. Mowing? Nope, they’re too tall. WeedEater? Wouldn’t last 10 minutes without burning up the motor.

No, I think my only option left is the old truck trick. I’ll just attach a chain to the hitch and pull them out one by one, just like tree stumps. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

They say, “The grass is always greener on the other side.” You want to know why? Because this side is full of weeds.

Before : (

After : )

Spreading laughter throughout the world…one chuckle at a time.

Mikie Baker
www.mikiebaker.com