Tumble Weed

In the Spring, when the dandylions were blooming so profusely, my boss pointed to a mess of yellow fluffy heads growing in her bed of Asters and Lamb's Ears.

"Can you hop in there and pull them out?"

Of course, I said. But like so many things, it was easier said than done. I squeezed passed four Japanese maples and slid by one prickly spruce - ouch - in order to reach the bed. My boss raises most of her flower beds with boulders, brick, or railroad ties. This one was a boulder bed; it also happened to be situated on a slope. I clambered over the boulders and stood surveying the enemy.

Dandylions must have been created with a hint of cleverness in them. They have a knack for finding small cracks between walls or they grow right up against a tree or other shrub. These were smack against the asters. So the trick is to pull the dandylions, roots and all, without pulling the asters.

Hmmm...

I knelt and pulled. Nothing. I stood up, bent over and pulled. Nothing. I squatted down next to the dandylions and pulled with all my weight using the down-hill pull of gravity. The dandylions realized their own defeat and gave up the ghost.

The roots popped out of the soil, and I rolled downhill into the Lamb's Ears! I was quite a sight, laying on the sloped hill, my feet in the air and my head against a boulder with the blood rushing to it.

Listing this under "I feel out of a tree today while pruning", I decided that my occupation can be hazardous to my health.