Chap 1 Continued....what to do with honeysuckle

In trying to get rid of the honeysuckle vines and bushes (since my yard looks like the Amazon gone wild), I first went to the obvious place - waste management. As nice of service as waste management can be, it can be a pain when it comes to getting rid of green waste, like leaves, sticks...etc (this statement is purely my opinion of our local Waste Management's rules about ridding ourselves of plant material). First, I called the local office because I could not find exactly what I wanted on their website. I was directed to a nice lady that sounded like a taped recording as she expressed to me all the facets of what can and cannot be submitted as green waste through their organization. In order to follow all of the rules, besides a chain saw, I would need a measuring tape, a T-square, a level, a 90 degree angle thingy, a GPS??? and Lord knows what else to get the exact measurements of the "branches" to their required specifications. Since I failed Shop in High School, it would be like teaching a goldfish to do a soft shoe, not happening.

So then I thought back to the days of my parents and what they used to do, which ended up not being an option...they used a burn barrel. I remembered what happened when my 30 something year old brother touched that very burn barrel with both hands when he was about 5. Talk about gross and paaaaiiiinnn (that would be the closest he would ever experience a sixteenth of what I endured through his nephew's 15 hour birth). It was amazing that it did not scar his hands for life.

Finally, while meandering through the internet, I read about an old practice called "Wattle Fences", which are seen in England and Williamsburg, Virginia. This is a really neat art of weaving annoying, voracious vines and long, skinny branches through some sort of close together posts. As always, I talked about it a lot because the idea of it was appealing - I could get rid of my annoyance and create something pretty ornamental. Talking is one thing, but doing is the hard part, so I talked sweetly to my hubby. He ended up helping me get some rebar and demonstrated how far apart they should be when I decide to drive them into the ground. Well, if you have ever had the experience of working with rebar, it's something. I left the spikes in a pile and kept telling myself I'd get to them tomorrow and then the next day and then the next. You get the picture... When I finally got some motivation, I found to my amusement rebar rusts and that rusts gets on everything. When I finally got around to messing with the spikes, I wound up having rusty hand marks on my shorts right around my derriere, my white T-shirt and I think I located some specks in my hair. After cussing over my new rusty look, I ended the week on a good note and I am now the proud owner of a long row of slightly skewed and rusty rebar. Let's see how long it will take me to go to the next step....

Chap 1: Honeysuckle and her sidekick Poison Ivy

Have you ever had to do battle in a little, bitty yard with enemy number 1 - honeysuckle :(? Unfortunately, I am ever brandishing my loppers against this ever emcompassing foe. It almost got me one day because it took a lowly, but extremely annoying side kick - The Poison Ivy. Found out around then, I was allergic to the darned side kick and at that time mildly pregnant. Okay, have you ever had poison ivy pock marks on half of your body and can't do anything about the aggravating itch besides slathering yourself in pink stuff? Now, according to my doctor (and I'm not even sure why he would bring up this option), the pharmaceutical companies had a miraculous drug he could script me, but the major drawback was that my unborn child would wind up with a cleft palate. So, cleft palate or stop the itchies (weighing my hands like one of those scales)? Duh, like any good mother did, I suffered for my child. And when she was born, beautiful as I knew she would be, I looked at her straight in the eye and told her that I better never hear that her mother didn't love her.