Our greenhouse has been invaded by wild
Morning Glory vines or “Bindweed” as it's sometimes called. We've
sprayed it, dug it up, and pulled it out by the roots, but like
“Arnold” it just keeps coming back.
The amazingly fast growing roots are
long, white tubes that can reach the size of a pencil and sometimes
you can pull three or four feet out of the soil before they break off
and start growing again. Any broken pieces will regenerate into a new
vine and every day new sprouts appear, giving us the daily chore of
pulling them out.
Several days ago I spied some new
vines creeping out from behind a piece of plywood leaning against the
greenhouse wall. I pried the board out a bit so I could see what was
behind it, and Eureka! There was a bonanza of tangled Morning Glory
roots hiding there.
I pried the plywood out some more,
slid my hand down and started pulling out fist full after fist full.
I couldn't believe how many of the ropey things I was yanking out of
their hiding place. I had a 5 gallon bucket half full of roots
before I was almost done. I saw one more, way back in the narrow
crevice and I jammed my hand in, grabbed it and pulled it out.
Imagine my surprise when it curled
around my wrist, opened it's mouth and hissed at me. On second
thought, “surprise” is too mild a word for what I felt. Maybe
“terror” or “horror” would be closer, but I don't think
there's a word in the dictionary that has the definition “almost
crapping your pants!” (At least I couldn't find it.)
Now, most folks would say, “That
was just a harmless little garden snake!” but they haven't seen the
bruises I received while I was flailing my arms like an out of
control windmill, trying to get rid of the damned snake and get out
through the green house door.
It's been two days now and I think
my pulse rate has dropped back to nearly normal. It's occurred to me
that a temporary cure for the slowness of movement that happens to
older people like me with Parkinson's Disease might be to surprise
them with an occasional snake. But count me out!
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