My weed is taller than your weed. At least I think so. (For your sake, I hope so!) Not that I’m proud of this or anything, but I have a seven-foot tall weed in my backyard. Seven feet tall! I wish I could say, “I don’t know how it escaped my notice,” but I know exactly how. Checking for weeds, even the ginormous variety, is just not high on my list of priorities right now.
I vaguely seem to remember seeing it out there a while back and, looking at the leaves and one of the blossoms, just assumed it was a cucumber or some other squashy thing my husband had planted and rather than engender his ire, I didn’t pull it up. Then I forgot about it. I know this thing must grow like a weed (sorry) but how did it get to towering over all of our heads, even my sons’, and in such a short time and completely without notice? I mean, I just weeded the garden a month ago.
When the husband pointed it out yesterday, I thought, OMG. (Yeah, maybe I actually do think in text-speak) It is a weed! We stared up at it. Its seedpods are unique and spiny and creepy. We wanted to know what this thing was and pronto. And we couldn’t. We Googled and Googled ‘til our googlers were sore. Dinner was delayed for forty-five minutes.
“No one’s eating ‘til we identity this thing,” cried the husband. My Google searching had already departed all the University extension sites and was trending towards terms like “Jack” and “magic bean stalks” and “effect of radiation on dandelions.”
We have a saying at our house, about “the mouse that got away.” It seems in any project, or in life in general, there’s always one mouse that gets away, the one thing that didn’t get noticed or fixed or painted or was completely forgotten in the crazy, daily commotion that is our life. I guess if, for the summer of 2012, the only mouse that got away was a seven-foot tall weed in my backyard, then I’m doing pretty good.
After much searching, we finally did identify it. “Velvetleaf.” Whew. Now the question is, when do we find the time to chop it down?
Filed under: gardening