I left for a week and my archenemies made their move. The thistles of monstrous size have returned.
If you’re not familiar with the thistles of monstrous size, let me enlighten you. First of all, these aren’t your normal, small clumps of prickles that like to appear in the backyard. Oh no. Those you can grasp with normal gardening gloves, and with a little work, get them right out. The thistles invading my yard are of a different breed. They eat normal gardening gloves for dinner. And it’s no good waiting until they’re dead, because their bite only gets worse. They attempt to leave a reminder of their hatred in your thumb while you move them to the trash. Really, they’re like zombies.
These thistles also grow in every direction at an alarming rate. Upward. Outward. I fear to think how deep the roots go. It doesn’t matter what formerly claimed a certain spot. If they want it, they will have it. (There’s currently a front of them attempting to displace the hot tub.) W
When I moved in last year, I first encountered the thistles in all their monstrous, mature glory. As in, the flowers could look me in the eye and laugh. The only way to kill them then was to go after them with the heavy-duty weed whacker, and then deal with the corpses and hope not to lose a finger in the process.
This year, I get to witness them from birth. More or less. Like I said, I made the mistake of leaving town, and returned to find them eating the yard. Seeing as they more or less are the size of normal thistles, I pulled on my gloves and gave one a tug. That was stupid.
Today, I went on the offensive and doused them all with vinegar and dish soap, which will supposedly kill them before they get any bigger. (Perhaps I should have thrown some Holy Water on them as well.) This can only go one of two ways. Either I will wake up tomorrow and find them dead, as the recipe claims. Or I will find they have eaten the patio furniture in retaliation.